Mission: Earth "Voyage of Vengeance" (43 page)

Suddenly I understood. I could not believe my luck! He was heading for the roadhouse in Connecticut! I was sure of it!

Despite old blind ladies and deputy sheriffs I would have to pilot Raht in there.

Well, I could do it.

I grabbed a map. The whole trip up there from JFK Airport was only about forty-five miles.

He turned off the expressway and went through a town. He went along the state highway and turned onto the cow path. He came up to the abandoned service station and the old lady came out.

"Where's your sweetheart today?" she said.

Heller couldn't answer her. My viewer misted.

He got the jeep out and put the Porsche in the garage. He transferred his baggage and drove off.

I had realized before that this old highway, long since grown over, was the same one which used to serve the roadhouse. And sure enough, he drove along over brush and between trees and came to the creek with the broken wooden bridge. He put the jeep in four-wheel drive, went through the creek bed, pulled up the far bank and was shortly stopped under the huge maple trees.

He unlocked the door, carried his baggage in and with very slow movements, quite unlike him, began to straighten up one of the old bedrooms so that it could be used for sleeping quarters.

My radio went live. "I've cleared in," said Raht.

"Oh, are you in luck," I said. "Now listen carefully." And I gave him very explicit directions to rent a car and where to go. "And when you get in sight of the abandoned service station, leave your car and continue on foot. The old lady will come out. She carries a shotgun for intruders. Shoot her. Then proceed on foot." And I gave him the rest of the directions to get to the roadhouse. "When you get across the creek, hide under a bush and call him. He is certain to come to the door, thinking it is one of the deputy sheriffs. When he does, shoot him."

"I've got all that," said Raht. "There's something else. I want you to give me the direct order, very explicit, to kill a Royal officer, by name. I have a recorder on right here in the terminal. In that way, if this ever comes to trial, it's your responsibility."

I almost laughed to myself. The order came from Lombar Hisst and he controlled Voltar, even the Emperor. I said, "I am Officer Gris. You, Agent Raht, are ordered to kill one Jettero Heller, Grade X Combat Engineer of the Fleet." I added the date and time.

"Now one more thing," said Raht. "If I do this I want ten thousand dollars cash. I'm not in this business for my health. You've had me on lowered allowance and pay for months and I mean to get my own back."

I almost laughed. He had just made it worth ten thousand to me to shoot him the next time I laid eyes on him. "Of course," I said. "I'll tell you what. I'll make it twenty thousand. How's that?"

There was silence at the other end. Then an excited, "It's a deal! But I'm not going to rent a car. I'm going into town first to steal one and also get a silenced rifle. It'll only add an hour to my schedule. I want to make awful sure of this. All right?"

"I hope it's a big caliber," I said.

"Will do. Officer Gris, you've made my day!"

He clicked off.

I polished my hands one against the other.

Heller dead!

This I was going to ENJOY!

Heller was sitting in the main room of the old bootleggers' roadhouse in Connecticut. The door was open but the light was dim.

He was holding in his hands a handkerchief with the initial
K
on it. His head was down. He must be feeling very bad.

The cat seemed to sense his mood and was just sitting on the floor, looking at him.

Two hours had gone by and he had not moved.

My radio went live. Raht's muted voice. "I'm on the other side of the creek. I can see the roadhouse."

"Be very silent," I said. "He has good ears. He's sitting in the main room and the door is open. What kind of a rifle do you have?"

"Sako Safari Grade.300 Winchester Magnum. Thirty-two hundred feet per second muzzle velocity, more than a ton and a half foot-pounds of impact."

"Excellent," I said. "It will blow his head off."

"Yes. And just to make sure, I've got specially loaded explosive bullets. The rifle is silenced."

"Did you get the old blind woman?"

"I sure took care of her," he said. "You're on the level about that twenty thousand now, aren't you?"

"Indeed so," I said. "Now listen, just angle around until you can see in the door and let him have it. Shoot to kill, first shot."

"Got it. Be sure and tell me if he hears anything or moves."

"I will," I said.

I watched the screen carefully. Heller was just sitting there. A perfect target.

Minutes went by. Then my radio went live again. Raht's voice was a barely audible whisper. "I am under a bush about twenty-five yards from the house. But I can't see in the door. Trees are in the way. Is it all right if I call to him and get him to come out on the porch? The second I see his head, I can fire."

"Do it," I said impatiently.

I tensely watched my screen.

Then I heard a faint voice through my speaker: "Hey, whitey engineer!" Oh good, he'd think it was a deputy.

Heller's head lifted. He was looking toward the open door.

The call repeated: "Whitey engineer!"

Heller put the handkerchief in his pocket. He reached around to the back of his belt and drew the.45 Llama automatic. I hadn't realized he was armed or would be suspicious.

He got up.

He went to the door.

He didn't see anything and stepped further out on the porch.

An explosive bullet crashed into stone to his left.

Raht had missed!

Heller went down on one knee. He was looking at a bush.

He raised the.45 and, without sighting, fired!

There was a yelp of pain!

Then a blast of fire from the bush.

The visio on my screen went dead!

There was the sound, metallic. The pistol dropping to the stone. Then the thud of a body falling.

My speaker was dead.

I sat there for an eerie moment.

No visio.

No sound.

Gradually it was borne in upon me that Heller had been hit in the temple, destroying the visio. Then he had dropped his pistol and he himself had fallen. And Raht, taking no chances, had fired again, hitting him in the head and destroying the audio bug.

I sat very still.

I could not believe my luck.

HELLER WAS DEAD!

I sat there in a daze.

For all these long months he had made my life a mess of assorted Hells. And he was gone.

I had expected to feel surges of jubilation. Instead, I was sort of numb.

A fantasy that his ghost might come and haunt me passed through my mind.

I shook it off. Psychologists and psychiatrists were all agreed men had no souls. They were just animals, just a bunch of cells. There was no life after death. Thank Heavens for that! It sort of steadied me.

Maybe if I shared this news the expected joy would come.

I got to my feet. They were festered and painful. I picked up the radio and limped down the passageway to the hangar. I found Stabb.

"I've got good news for you," I said. "The Royal officer has just been executed. He's dead!"

Stabb's beady eyes flared. "You don't mean it!"

"Fact," I said. "He's just had his head blown off."

Stabb gave a bark of joy. He yelled to his crew. He told them and they cheered.

"Oh, Gods," said Stabb, "that should happen to every condemned officer in the Fleet! Them and their high-and-mighty ways. How can an honest pirate do his job with (bleepards) like that around! So he's dead, is he? Well, let's get cracking on the bank robberies, now that that is off your mind."

My radio went live. "Officer Gris! I've got the blood staunched now. He got me in the leg. I'm in bad shape, Officer Gris. I can't walk. You've got to get me out of here."

"Oh, I think you can manage it," I said. "We've got other things to do than cover up your bungling."

"Officer Gris," said Raht, "I don't think you understand. When I was looking for bandages, I looked down a shaft and there's all kinds of equipment here. For

Gods' sakes, come over here with the tug before we have a Code break to end all Code breaks. Voltar is written all over these boxes."

"Well, set the place on fire," I said. "Burn it all up and get out of there as best you can."

"I don't think these diamonds will burn."

Stabb was suddenly alert. "Diamonds?" he said.

I was suddenly alert as well. "How many diamonds?" I said.

"I can't carry them out. I got them as far as the front porch and I can't get them any further. They're spilled all over the steps."

I looked at Stabb and Stabb looked at me. We nodded in sudden accord.

"The moment that it's dark here," I said, "we'll take off in the tug. You stay right there and wait for us. We'll take care of everything." And you, too, Raht, I added to myself.

Right that moment it was 5:00 P. M. where we were. We could take off at 8:00 when night was thick. We would follow the sun's shadow around the Earth and land in Connecticut.

"I'll try to hold on through the next five hours," said Raht in a faint and pain-filled voice. "Promise not to abandon me if I go unconscious and can't answer."

"Don't worry," I said, "we'll soon be on our way!"

Stabb's men were scrambling to get
Tug One
ready to lift off.

I hobbled back toward the tunnel.

A black-uniformed assassin pilot pointed his red-gloved finger at the tug. "You're going to take off in that?"

It was an unnecessary question. The Antimancos were swarming over it.

"Just remember this," said the assassin pilot, pointing at the two flying cannons on the other side of the hangar, "if you try to leave this planet, we will blow you out of the universe. Those are our orders. They have not been changed. The locational bugs are in place on your ship and we will be right behind you."

"Wait," I said, staring at the deadly assassin ships, "you could get some nutty idea we're trying to evade you when we aren't. You take it easy with those things."

"You are not our senior," said the assassin pilot. "You just make sure you don't do anything that might give us 'nutty ideas.' Your tug is completely unarmed. Just one shot from either one of our ships and you're finished. We haven't had a kill in months and we're hungry."

He went off to alert the other three pilots and get ready to fly.

Faht Bey was barring my way. "What are you up to now?"

"I'm just carrying out orders," I said.

Faht Bey looked at the assassin ships. All four of the pilots were now in conference below them. "If they have reason to finish you off, what do I do with Forrest Closure? You can't keep a representative from Grabbe-Manhattan here forever."

"Don't you dare let him go until I return!" I said in sudden alarm. "I've got this all solved now, so don't mess it up."

"YOU are telling ME not to mess things up?" he said. "Officer Gris, if I had the slightest excuse I'd convene an officers' conference on you this instant."

"You would be sorry," I said. "I am of vast service to this base. Just a short while ago I removed the Crown inspector that was going to execute every one of you!"

Faht Bey walked off.

I went to my room. Gods, my feet were hurting. Maybe I was developing gangrene. Or possibly lockjaw. I felt my jaws experimentally. No, they hadn't locked yet.

I got into the black ski suit.

Musef and Torgut were at the door. "Any orders?" said Musef.

Suddenly I realized I had good news for them. "Remember the DEA man that you had a fight with last fall?" I said. "He's dead."

They beamed like rising moons. They grabbed each other and began to do a circular dance, the combined seven hundred pounds of them shaking the floor. Their whoops were earsplitting.

Utanc came to the door to see what the noise was. Alarmed, she saw I was buckling on my guns.

She sped forward to me and threw her arms about my neck. "O Master, you are going into danger!"

"It's nothing," I said.

She kissed me tenderly. "O Master, I would die if anything happened to you. Come back safe!"

I was touched.

Eventually my room cleared of people. I had one further problem. Should I kill the Countess Krak now or when I came back?

I had a little time. I had two poison-gas grenades. All I had to do was walk outside and up the hill to the vent hole hidden behind a rock, drop in one or both of those grenades and that would be that.

There was only one thing really wrong with it. The thought of walking on these feet over the rough terrain was more than I could measure up to.

I went in and looked at her viewer. It had no image on it. She must have lost track of time in that place and was asleep.

And then I was seized with an uneasiness. Suppose, while I was gone, she would get out: I'd come back to the base and find her waiting there, ready to stomp me into the pavement.

I picked up a poison-gas grenade. I hobbled out into the yard. My feet were terribly bad. I did not think I could make it up the hill.

Ahmed was sitting in a car talking to Ters. I beckoned and Ahmed came over.

"Listen, Ahmed," I said. "There's a gray rock up on the hill there. Just behind it you will find a hole. A badger made it and his noise is interrupting my sleep. Here's a gas grenade. You pull the pin and drop it in. Will you do that for me?"

"Of course," he said. He took it and raced off.