The Darkness of God: Book Three of the Shadow Warrior Trilogy (21 page)

Andros shook his head. “It would have been so much simpler if you’d been interested in joining us,” he said, reaching behind him. “As it is, I’m truly sorry …”

Joshua’s small hideout gun snapped from his sleeve and he shot Andros in the face. The man rolled on his side, his half-drawn pistol falling into the dirt.

El-Vah drew his pistol. Wolfe shot him in the chest. The boy made a surprised sound in his throat and tumbled backward.

Wolfe heard shouts from the cave as Esperansa brought up her rifle, fumbling with the safety. Two blasters crashed simultaneously and she fell forward onto her face.

Blast rifle up, Wolfe sent a burst into the cave. He tossed Chesney his gun belt, stuffed the brown envelope into his shirt, and shouldered his pack.

“To the trail,” he snapped. “Back the way we came. Stay just ahead of me.”

Chesney nodded, buckling his gun belt on, hefting his pack. “What about the case?”

“Leave it. They almost paid for it.”

Somebody shot at them, and the bolt smashed into the ground nearby. Wolfe sent another burst at random and started running, pistol belt slung over his shoulder.

The sentry in the middle of the path looked bewildered. “What is happening? What — ”

Chesney shot him in the head. He spasmed, throwing his rifle high overhead, fell back into the creek. They went over the bridge, and Wolfe kicked the length of alloy down into the water on top of the sentry’s body.

He caught up to Chesney. “We walk like hell for a count of one hundred,” he ordered. “Then you keep walking for another hundred count, and go off into the brush and wait for me.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“Double back, ambush them, then join you. For pity’s sake, don’t shoot somebody coming up the path whistling. It’ll be me.”

“Right.”

“Especially since I still have the envelope with the money.”

“Let’s go,” Chesney said. “I can hear them coming.”

They went on. It was just light enough to dimly follow the path. Wolfe counted carefully, calmly: ninety-eight … ninety-nine … one hundred.

He ducked to the side, and Chesney kept moving.

Wolfe
felt
out,
felt
them coming. But he didn’t need the Lumina. He saw figures in the dimness, pelting up the trail. He stepped out and fired a long burst.

There were screams, wild shots. Another burst followed the first, then Wolfe went uphill once more.
Damn, but I wish I had some grenades,
he thought with the part of his mind that wasn’t counting.

At fifty, he stopped, frowning. He thought for a brief moment, then turned off the path.

• • •

Chesney lay prone, pistol pointing back down the path, ready to fire. He shrieked involuntarily as a hand came down on his shoulder, and Wolfe crouched beside him.

“God, god, gods,” he almost sobbed. “Don’t
do
that, man. My heart’s not up to that. Why didn’t you — ”

“Wasn’t sure there might not be a mistake,” Wolfe said.

“I heard you shooting them up,” Chesney said, voice nervous. “Did you get them all?”

“Nope. I’m not that efficient a killer.”

“So what’s next? Are we going to have to keep running?”

“We are — but I’ve got a way to slow them down, or anyway give them somebody else to worry about.” He dug into his pack. “I brought these along in case we needed a diversion,” he explained, holding up two spacesuit emergency flares. He took the end cap from one, inverted it, and put it on the other end.

“Wolfe, everybody on the goddamned planet’ll see that!”

“Hope so,” Joshua said, and slammed his hand against the cap. White fire hissed upward nearly a thousand feet, and blossomed into a series of red-green-red-green flashes.

Joshua sent another one after the first. Chesney was still utterly bewildered.

“Now we turn left,” Wolfe said. “We’ll move parallel with the ridge crest until dawn. Then we’ll turn uphill again, and cross into our own valley. Up and at ‘em, soldier.”

• • •

Minutes after they started moving, they heard the whine of gravlighters and saw lights in the sky.

“Down, and hope the Inspectorate’s shitty with people-sniffers,” Joshua ordered.

Explosions boomed, and the ground shuddered around them.

“Good,” Joshua said. “Bomb that old jungle. Always do it the easy way.”

There were high screams from the sky, and a pair of scoutships dove down. Fire blossomed from their bellies, and rockets slammed into the mountain.

“They’ll keep that up all night, if I know my amateurs,” Wolfe said, “then land troops on top of the mountain and sweep down. When — if the Inspectorate discovers the cave, they’ll have something to keep them busy, and they won’t be looking for us.”

• • •

Just before dawn they heard gunfire and explosions. “They found them,” Chesney said.

“Maybe,” Wolfe said. “Or maybe they’re shooting up each other or a really offensive tree.”

“I hope they get the bastards.”

“Why? They did something stupid,” Wolfe said, “and it seems to me they’ve already paid for it.”

“I don’t like people who try to kill me.”

“An understandable emotion. I frequently share it.”

• • •

Chesney was staggering by the time the sun came up. Joshua found an impenetrable thicket, and they pushed their way into it. Chesney went immediately to sleep, not offering to stand guard.

Wolfe let his senses float out but
felt
nothing. He calmed himself, breathing steadily, and let his body relax while his mind watched.

Around midday, Chesney grunted and woke up. He saw Wolfe sitting cross-legged, counting money. “How much do we have?” he asked.

“A little less than half a million,” Joshua said. “Again, it appears real.” He shook his head. “They should’ve bargained instead of going for the guns. Two-thirds isn’t bad soldier’s pay.”

Chesney nodded agreement. “You’re right,” he said. “Lord knows I’ve taken less and not cried all night. But why the hell can’t people stay honest?”

Wolfe looked at him without replying.

Chesney had the grace to turn away.

• • •

They moved slowly, quietly, following the mountain crest, until almost midnight, then they holed up until just before dawn. Aircraft constantly passed overhead, scout-ships, lighters, gravsleds. But none slowed, so Wolfe paid no mind.

They crossed the few open spaces at a trot, listening carefully first. “We’re making a big circle,” Wolfe explained. “We’ll have one more night in the open, then make the
Resolute
not long after first light.”

“Oh Lord, a consummation devoutly to be made,” Chesney misquoted fervently. “I never knew I could smell so bad. I’m going to
live
in the fresher until further notice. Is that what it’s like being a soldier?”

“Nope,” Wolfe said. “It’s when you don’t know you stink and don’t care either that you start soldiering.”

• • •

That night, when Chesney slept, Wolfe slid over beside him. He picked up Chesney’s pistol and pushed its bell mouth firmly down into the ground they lay on. He wiped the dirt from the outside of the barrel, and set it back down near the pilot’s hand.

• • •

Chesney touched controls on the tiny box and waited. Brown water roiled, and the
Resolute
surfaced. Its secondary drive hummed, pushing it close to the bank. Its lock door opened, and the gangway slid out. Wolfe started down the bank.

“Joshua.”

Wolfe stopped.

“Turn around, Wolfe. I don’t like being a back-shooter unless I have to.”

Joshua obeyed.

Chesney had his pistol aimed in both hands at Wolfe’s chest. “I really don’t think three-quarters of a mill is enough for two people,” he said, and his voice gloated as it had when he told Trevor he was wrong. “And I don’t think I’ll be sharing it with our mutual friend, either.”

“You don’t want to do that, Merrett,” Joshua said.

“Oh, but I have to,” Chesney said, and his voice had a tone like the ring of cracked crystal. “I know you weren’t sleeping. I know I was talking in my sleep. No one must know about me. No one.”

“I said, don’t do it,” Wolfe said calmly.

The dirt-clogged barrel of Chesney’s gun was aimed steadily at Wolfe. “But I’m going to,” Chesney said.

Wolfe turned, started up the
Resolute
’s
g
angway.

Merrett Chesney laughed again, convulsively jerking the trigger.

• • •

“Chesney’s dead,” Wolfe said into the blank screen.

“How?”

“He didn’t believe people tell the truth sometimes,” Joshua said.

“What does that mean?”

The transmitter hissed for a while.

“All right,” the voice conceded. “He was a strange one at best. I suppose you knew about him?”

“I learned.”

“He was so afraid of anyone finding out, and I think everyone knew. Oh well. So what next?”

“No changes,” Wolfe said. “I’ve got nearly three-quarters of a million credits. I take my cut, drop the rest off with you.”

“What’s the split?”

“I’m going to take my fifty percent of what we agreed on, plus half of his fifty percent for general aggravation,” Joshua said. “You get the rest.”

“Pretty damned generous,” the voice said.

“Why not? I’ve got a ship now, so I can afford to keep up the old ties.”

“Good. Nice doing business with you,” the voice said. “Stand by to record.”

Wolfe scanned the control panel of the
Resolute,
found the recorder, and switched it on.

The voice reeled a set of coordinates, then: “Got them?”

“I do.”

“Good.” There was a moment of silence. “Wolfe … I’m sorry about what happened — but you understand how business works.”

Wolfe lifted an eyebrow.

“Clear,” the voice said, and the contact was broken.

• • •

The coordinates were for open space, far between systems, near the fringes of the Federation. During the war a great battle had been fought here, and the shattered hulks of starships, Federation and Al’ar, still spun in aimless orbits.

A medium-size, ultramodern starship hung in space at exactly the specified points.

Wolfe opened his com. “Unknown ship, this is the
Resolute.
”

“Go ahead,
Resolute.
You have the credits?” It was an unfamiliar voice. Wolfe shrugged. He hardly expected his contact to meet him personally.

“I have.”

“Come on across, then.”

Wolfe breathed,
felt
across the distance. There was nothing. No warmth, but no threat. He tucked his hideout gun into his waistband, put on a spacesuit, buckled on a heavy blaster, went into the lock, and cycled himself into space.

It was dark, except for the far-distant glimmer of forgotten suns. Wolfe turned on a suit spotlight, jetted across the short distance to the other ship, and touched down next to its lock.

The outer door was open. Wolfe went into it, closed the lock door, and let the lock cycle.

The door opened into luxury. Stepping out of the lock, Wolfe saw three men with guns. They wore strange helmets that fit snugly from the base of the neck over the top of the head and down over the forehead. Reflecting goggles hid their eyes.

They held blast rifles leveled.

Joshua slowly lifted his hands, grimly cursing his carelessness.

A man came out of a compartment. He also wore a helmet, but instead of a suit he wore a uniformlike tunic with a jagged crimson streak on the chest.

“If you move, you’re dead,” said a voice in Joshua’s speaker.

The man took Wolfe’s gun, gingerly unfastened his helmet, and lifted it away. His hand came back very quickly with an air-hypo against Wolfe’s neck, and he pressed the stud. Wolfe jerked aside, but not in time.

“There.” The voice came from another room. “That’s got you.”

A door slid open. Out came Jalon Kakara. He walked over to Wolfe. His eyes were alive with rage, hate. “I warned you,” he said, and smashed his fist into Wolfe’s face.

“I warned you,” he said again.

“I told you,” Kakara went on, “to sleep with one eye open — but you didn’t. You just went on about your merry way, as if you could steal my wife and there’d never be any paybacks to worry about.”

Wolfe tried to speak, couldn’t.

Kakara grinned. “Can’t talk, can you? Just so you know, you’ve been hit with about two hundred cc’s of HypnoDec. Your automatic body controls function, but that’s about it. Go ahead. Try to walk.”

Wolfe’s sluggish mind tried to work, tried to reach out, tried to
feel
the great Lumina a few hundred yards away in the
Resolute.