Fatal Blade (Decker's War#3) (9 page)

Decker started laughing.

“You find me amusing, Ser Whate?”  The mobster seemed momentarily nonplussed by Zack’s reaction.

“Try that and we’ll die.  You won’t get anything.  Like my partner here said, we won’t cooperate.  The way I see it, someone’s going to die today.  It’s pretty much up to you who that is.”

Syko’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Are you trying to tell me you’ve been conditioned against interrogation?”

Decker tapped the side of his nose with a thick forefinger and winked.

“Got it in one.”

“I should have known that you’re Navy plants, damn it,” Syko roared.

“How about you cut it out with the insults, fatso?”  Decker slammed his fist on the marble top.  “I belong to the animal kingdom even though I’ve been accused of coming from a different branch than the rest of you pink apes.  Your goons, on the other hand, look suspiciously like stalks of broccoli.  They have that vacant stare in their eyes.  I’d say if anyone was a plant here, they are.”

Neither Syko nor his guards knew what to make of Zack’s nonsensical declaration, and they stared at him as if he’d sprouted a second head that had immediately begun to sing Shrehari opera.  Then, Syko laughed.

“Very good, Ser Whate, very good.  I like a man who keeps his sense of humor in the face of adversity. You’re almost making me reconsider my decision to simply take your ship.  Almost…”  He smiled again briefly, then touched something on his side of the table and almost immediately, the door opened to reveal the other two guards.  “Take this comedian and his friend to the interrogation room.”

The goons behind Syko raised their weapons menacingly while the new arrivals pulled out restraints.  Decker glanced at Talyn and nodded.

“Now.”

The Marine’s right leg shot up, and he caught the edge of the table with his heel, giving it a mighty heave so that it toppled over Syko, pinning the man to the floor.  At the same time, Talyn rose from her chair in a fluid motion, pivoted to face the door and pulled out her gun.

One of the guards facing Zack prepared to fire, his facial expression telegraphing his intent.  The Marine pulled his pathfinder dagger from its forearm sheath and sent it flying straight into the goon’s throat.  Blood spurted and the man collapsed.  Decker then drew his blaster and shot the other goon without missing a beat.

Two double-tap coughs beside him, with no follow-on shots, proved that Talyn hadn’t missed her targets either.

It had taken only a few seconds, but in that brief time, barely long enough to take three deep breaths, four men lay dead and their boss was caught beneath his desk, helplessly pinned down by the marble slab.

“Wonderful,” Zack said, walking around the upturned table to retrieve his dagger.  “Wherever we go, it ends up with a trail of bodies.”

“Can we help it if we’re the designated clean-up crew?” Talyn pulled the door shut before someone noticed that their boss’ office had been replaced by a charnel house.  “I hope you waited until they shot first.”

“Sure.  Goon on the right had one up the spout and almost out the muzzle.”

“Good enough for me.”  She looked down at Syko. “My partner did tell you someone would die today.  You should have listened to him.”

“You’ll never get out of here,” the man whispered, struggling to master his shock at the lethal turn of events.  “I have fifty men guarding me, and there are only two of you.”

“Fifty?”  Decker chuckled.  “Those are twenty-five to one odds.  I don’t think your men are going to make it, do you, Sera Pasek?”

“Nope.”  She shook her head.  “What do we do with this piece of crap?”

“He was going to steal our ship, which makes him guilty of attempted piracy.  That’s still a death penalty offense, and I’m sure he’s made people disappear into his rabbit warren before.  So we can also get him for multiple counts of enslavement if not first-degree murder.  In most jurisdictions, those can bring down a death sentence too, especially slavery, and I do hate slavers.”

“Legally, summary execution isn’t an option at this point, you know that, right?”  Talyn asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.”  Zack looked down at Syko again.  “Maybe fatso will try to shoot me first; then I can kill him.  Want to shoot me?  You’re not getting out of here alive.”

Anger warred with terror in the mobster’s eyes.

“Who are you?”  He asked, hoping against all hope to distract the big man while he struggled to pull his weapon out.

“Just some honest, God-fearing spacers looking for work.”  Decker hadn’t been fooled.  “Sadly, you picked on folks who don’t like to be played for idiots.  I wish I could say that you should remember so you don’t do it again, but I figure you won’t have the chance to be a good boy.”

Syko’s pistol snapped up, the stubby barrel aimed at Decker’s chest, but Zack was faster.  His Imperial Armaments blaster coughed once, drilling a neat hole in the mobster’s forehead.

“Navy plants indeed.  I’m a bloody Marine, you dumb fuck.”  He looked up at Talyn.  “He was about to shoot, so it doesn’t count as summary execution.”

“Sure.  We won’t mention that he would have had an entirely good self-defense argument if it had ever come to trial.”

“Whatever.”  Decker shrugged and holstered his gun.  He was about to turn away when he noticed something on Syko’s neck that had become visible after he’d slumped backward in death.

“Wonderful.  Our man here has a Jackal tattoo, which might explain why he was so keen on stealing
Phoenix
.  Maybe his buddies on Kilia Station put out a BOLO.”

“And that makes a difference to our current situation how, exactly?”

“Other than having the whole pack on our asses once they find out we scragged the local boss?  Can’t think of a single thing.  Not that I have any remorse.  I’m just trying to think ahead of trouble.”

“Good for you.  I doubt all of his goons are part of the pack, though.  They’ve been known to take control of local gangs through one or two members.  Anyway, that’s for a later conversation.  I’d say now would be a good time to see if we remember the way out.”

Talyn opened the office door cautiously and looked out into the antechamber.

“Clear.”

Decker passed through and took up position by the opening to the passageway.  When he glanced back, he saw her pull a dark, nut-sized nugget from her pocket, thumb off the top and toss it into the office before pulling the door shut.

Expecting a loud bang, he was disappointed at the dull thud he heard seconds later.

“And here I thought you’d joined me in believing there’s nothing that can’t be solved with a few high explosives.  You did a great job in the Marengo stockade.”

“Thermal grenade,” she replied.  “In about thirty seconds, there won’t be anything left to identify except that ugly marble slab.”

“I guess I’ll have to be satisfied with the intent.”

He glanced into the passageway again, but before he could move to the next intersection, an alarm began to peal.

“Your little nugget seems to have triggered the fire detectors.  Let’s hope the rest of Syko’s crew are as sluggish as his late bodyguards.  Come on.”

TEN

“Does it actually bother you that we seem to leave a trail of bodies wherever we go or was that a rhetorical statement?”  Talyn asked in a conversational tone.

“We don’t always.  Marengo had a pretty low death count.  So did the two missions before that.  Mind you, there was that Shrehari marauder, but they don’t actually count.”

He glanced around the next blind corner.

“This place needed a good cleaning anyway; the next free traders that got conned by Pavel Krig into meeting Ser Syko wouldn’t have made it out alive.  We did our duty by the spirit of our oath. What really bothers me is that we walked into this one like bloody amateurs.”

“Why would you expect us to know that the local Jackal capo felt like expanding his horizons?  How many starship hijackings occur planet-side?”

They jogged to the next intersection.

“Shit happens,” she continued.  “This was one of those times.  Mind you, I’ll agree that we may have been a teensy bit too easy with bribes.  That might have had something to do with Syko’s unhealthy interest, even if he got a tip-off from his friends on Kilia.”

“Noted for the next time,” he replied, eyes scanning the shafts on either side.

She slipped past him to the next intersection, looked around the corner and pulled back almost immediately.

“I think we’re about to meet Syko’s goons, and they look kind of pissed.”

“You think they know we turned their dear leader into a pile of ashes?”

“Probably not, but since we don’t wear the right colors, we’re prey.”

“And the body trail is about to lengthen,” he pointed ahead, where a knot of miners blocked the way.

“Only if they have the brains God gave broccoli, to use a Deckerism.”

“Which they obviously do.”  Zack took the lead, leaving Talyn to turn and cover their backs.  “Incidentally, those fine specimens
are
blocking the way out.  Since we can’t go over, under or around, it’ll have to be through, unless you want to go spelunking without a map.”

“I like easy problems,” she replied, eyes on the men filling the passage behind them.  “I guess you’re rubbing off on me again.”

“Nothing wrong with that – the rubbing, I mean.”

One of the miners, easily Zack’s size, stepped out in front of the rest and twirled a length of metal.  It began to glow on one end.

“Oh come on!” Decker groaned.  “A vibra-pick?  Don’t these bozos know you bring a gun to a gunfight?”

“He may be doing that alpha male thing guys sometimes do, you know, a challenge.”  She drew her blaster.  “Or they’re under orders to take us alive.”

“I don’t have time for this.”  Decker pulled out his gun and shot the twirler, grazing his arm.  The pick fell to the ground with a clatter, but instead of deterring the others, a low growl erupted from a dozen throats.

“I think I just made them mad.”

“That’s what you get when you don’t aim for the center of mass,” she replied.

“A moment ago, you were the one making sure we didn’t cross the line between self-defense and murder.”

“So I was too bureaucratic.  Sue me.”

One of the miners following them sped up and raised a needler.  Her gun coughed once, hitting him in the leg.  The man’s friends, smarter than the miners facing Zack, thought twice and backed off.  Between angry shouts and howls of outraged pain, the decibels had reached an uncomfortable level.

“Shit.”  Decker shot several times, rapid fire, over the miners’ heads to check their advance and yelled out, “Syko’s dead, you dumb fucks.  He stepped in front of my gun.  Don’t make the same mistake.”

A sudden silence fell over the corridor, underscored only by the distant peal of the alarm bell.  The group in front of Zack split apart to reveal a man dressed like the rest of Syko’s security guards.

“What did you say?”  His tone was almost a savage snarl.

“Your boss is dead.  He tried to screw over the wrong people.  It didn’t work.  The end.  Let us go and no one else has to die.”

The goon glanced at Zack’s blaster and then back at his face, apparently calculating how many of them would eat plasma before they could take down the stranger and his partner.

“Don’t do it,” Decker warned.  “Four of your buddies died with Syko.  We don’t have a beef with anyone else here, but if you force the issue, we will shoot to kill.”

“You only managed to wing two guys and that at close range.  I’m not impressed.”  A grin spread across the guard’s face.  “I don’t think you bozos can shoot worth crap.”

Decker chuckled.

“Warning shots aren’t meant to kill, dumbass.”

He snapped up his blaster and fired at an encased ceiling light above the miners, destroying it in a shower of sparks with a direct hit.

“How hard to you think it would be for me to drill all of you a third eye in the middle of the forehead?  Let us go and no one else gets hurt.”

Syko’s men slowly backed off, leaving the guard alone in the middle of the corridor.  A newcomer forced his way through them.

“Let it be, Dan,” he shouted.  “We just got word the boss’ office is burnt out, with him and your four buddies inside, just like he said.  Whatever’s going on is no longer our business.  You know how it goes: the moment word gets out Syko’s dead, the vultures are going to come down on us and you don’t want to be around when that happens.  It’s time to find another boss.”

“Wise advice, Dan,” Decker said with a sardonic smile.  “Live to fight another day, that’s what I always say.”

The goon made an obscene gesture, but turned on his heel and followed the miners to the entrance.

“See, I can negotiate us out of another gun fight.”  He winked at Talyn.

“I’ll be sure to note that on your next performance evaluation,” she replied, shaking her head.  “What a mess.”

The guards at the entrance to Syko’s lair had left by the time the two operatives stepped out of the maze.

“I guess Dan picked up his buddies on the way out.  Smarter than he looked, that one.”

Decker holstered his blaster, making sure he could draw it quickly again when the need arose.

“You’re probably right,” he continued.  “Syko and maybe one or two we didn’t see are Jackals.  The rest are local talent.  I doubt full pack members would have let us out of there alive.  It would have been bad for their reputation, even worse if they’re in cahoots with the
Sécurité Spéciale
. Now what?”

“Now, we get away from here and pretend we never visited Ser Syko.”

She waved at the bright lights blow them, and they began walking back to Yavan and the Paradise hotel.

“You know word will get around about us,” Decker remarked.  “Some of Syko’s rivals in the thieves’ guild that runs Andoth are bound to get curious; worried even, especially if they knew he had the tattoo.  That could be an advantage.”

“Or someone with more brains and brawn than Syko could try to eliminate us before we do unto him.  In the meantime, we’re no further ahead finding the pipeline that’s shipping supplies to the Garonne resistance.”

“Sucks to be us,” he replied with good humor, “but I’ll live, though I might have a few words with the analysts who told us Kilia Station and Andoth were good places to pick up the scent.”

***

“Do you think Syko went off script or was he acting under orders?”

“I’ll tell you once I know how all the parts are supposed to go together,” she said dropping into their usual booth.  “I assume you're going to have second breakfast?”

He looked at his timepiece.

“More like elevenses by now.  Fighting always gets my appetite going.  Don’t tell me you’re not ravenous.”

“Okay, I won’t, but I’ll pass on the pile of
stuff
you shoveled down your throat this morning.  Maybe they’ll serve us something more civilized.”

“A vat steak or three, with plenty of fries?”

“You can have the ‘or three,' I’ll stick with one, big boy.  And we still have to find a contract,” she added for the benefit of any hidden listeners.

“I get the feeling we’ll be approached soon enough.”  He rubbed his hands gleefully.  “Here’s our holographic waiter.  Now, what can your kitchen give us that isn’t breakfast?”

An hour later, Decker slumped back against the bench with a hearty belch.

“That filled the old ammo locker very nicely.  I give this place at least three novae, if not for taste then at least for quantity.”

“Look sharp,” Talyn whispered, “there’s a thin guy at the bar talking to Wim, and they’re both looking in our direction.”

He turned to glance over his shoulder, then slowly swiveled back to meet her eyes.  She reached out and touched the back of his hand with her fingertips.

Someone you know?

Decker nodded.

This could get strange
, he signaled back.

The man approached their booth, eyes flicking between Decker and Talyn before finally settling on the latter.

“Captain Pasek of
Phoenix
?”  He stopped at a respectful distance and briefly dipped his head.

“Perhaps.”

“My name is Tran Kinnear.  I understand from Sera Lyde at the spaceport that you’re looking for a contract.”

Though the man, like Decker, no longer bore any sign that he had once been slave soldier in the Trans-Coalsack Sector, there was no mistaking him for anyone other than his old comrade in arms.

So far, Kinnear had not recognized the Marine, but even the best disguise can’t hide some of the fundamentals and in due time, he’d begin to get the feeling that Ser Whate reminded him of someone.  Fooling the human mind was harder than fooling facial recognition software.

“We are,” Talyn nodded, “though you’ll excuse us if we’re a bit less enthusiastic than you might expect.  We had a bit of a run-in with a potential client whose ideas were somewhat different from ours.”

“Might I join you?”  Kinnear motioned towards the chair at the end of the table.

“Sure.” She shrugged with seeming indifference.

“Information moves fast on Andoth, though its accuracy is always open to question.  The word is that off-worlders did a number on one of the local bosses by the name of Syko.  I’ve had some dealings with him in recent days and can fully understand how you might have found your encounter unpleasant.”

Decker snorted.

“A number?  Is that what they call it around here?  Yeah.  He won’t be flirting with piracy ever again.”

“You are aware that he might have had some dangerous affiliations?”  Kinnear asked, eyes searching Decker’s face as if to discover why it seemed vaguely familiar.

“Sure.  Didn’t do him much good.”

The Marine had to repress an overwhelming urge to thump Kinnear on the shoulder and ask him what he’d been doing since the day Zack had traded command of Decker’s Demons for an intelligence operative’s billet.  Tran had been a solid platoon leader back then, dependable, honest and willing.

“Pardon me, Ser Whate, but have me met before?”  Kinnear frowned, apparently searching through the furthest recesses of his memory.

Decker shook his head.  “Nope.”

“You said you wanted to hire some transport?” Talyn asked, to derail the man’s train of thought.

“Indeed.”  Another polite nod.  “The information provided by Sera Lyde about your ship would indicate that it might meet the requirements of the interests I represent.”

“Cripes, another Pavel Krig with his bloody
interests
.”  Decker made a disgusted face.  “We’re not following you anywhere, just so you know.  We keep our meetings with scumbags to one a day.  More would be gluttony.”

A faint smile appeared on Kinnear’s solemn face.

“I can assure you that I’m nothing like Ser Krig, and the interests I represent aren’t on Andoth, nor do they bear any sort of resemblance to Krig’s.  In any case, his business should dry up once word gets around that he’s responsible for introducing you to the late Ser Syko and his associates.”

“Serves the traitorous little snake right.”  Decker flexed a ham-sized fist.  “Though I wouldn’t mind giving him a token of my appreciation.”

Only too late did Zack realize that he’d been speaking like the man Kinnear remembered, and a brief flash of interest appeared in the latter’s eyes.

“Mister Kinnear,” Talyn said, “what exactly is it that you’re looking for?”

Before he could answer, the main door swung open with a crash to reveal a trio of heavily armed men in black uniforms.

“Perhaps I could tell you somewhere else,” he replied, suddenly sounding very anxious.  “The gentlemen who are now taking a good look around the Paradise belong to what passes for law and order in Yavan.  Considering they’re in the pockets of virtually everyone with extra-legal interests, I’m going to surmise they’re after you two.”

“Did you left anything in the room you feel sentimental about?”  Decker asked his partner.

“Negative.”

“Then perhaps we should skedaddle to our shuttle and lift off.  I’d rather not mix it up with corrupt cops in full public view.”  He turned to Kinnear.  “If you have nothing to keep you in Yavan, I can offer a ride out of here while we talk business; otherwise, this conversation is over.”