The Fall: Crimson Worlds IX (24 page)

“It is nothing personal, Minister Li.  And as for my country, I came from the gutters of Shanghai.  My mother was a maid for a mid-level government official.  She cleaned his home, and when he wished, he used her like a whore.  When he got tired of her, he cast her out, and we lived on the streets until she died.  I joined C1 because it was a chance to improve my life, not out of any patriotic foolishness.  I couldn’t care less who wins this war.  I am in this for my own gain.

“Who was it?  Did Ryan Warren get to you?”  Could she have been that wrong about Warren?

“No, Minister Li, not Ryan Warren.”

Li’s cloudy eyes brightened with realization.  “Gavin Stark?

“Very good, Minister.  If one is going to make a bold move, it is best advised to choose the most capable ally, wouldn’t you agree?”

So Stark was alive after all.  He’d played them all for fools, and she didn’t have a doubt that everything that had happened was his work.  He had defeated her in the end, completely and utterly.  Only now, as she faced her own death, did she truly recognize the genius of the man she had struggled against for so many years.

Her plans were in ruins.  Indeed, she had even aided Stark.  When Ryan Warren didn’t hear from her, he would assume she had betrayed him somehow.  Instead of pulling the Powers back from the brink, her actions would push them closer to the abyss.  She felt despair and she looked back at the utter futility of her life.  She wanted only death now, to join Dutton and leave the world to its destruction.

“He has promised me a position in his new empire.”  Daiyu stared at her former boss, gloating with satisfaction.  “Preventing you and Ryan Warren from interfering with his plans will earn me great rewards, and a high place in the new order.

Li An stared back with pity in her eyes.  “You poor stupid girl.  You know nothing about Gavin Stark.”

“That will be enough.  I am sorry, Minister Li, but I have my instructions, and time is limited.  She aimed the pistol at Li An’s head and fired.

The ancient leader of C1 was slammed back hard, her chair tilting over and dropping her body to the ground with a soft thud.  Daiyu stepped around the desk, looking down at the legendary head of C1.  Li An was dead, that was obvious, but she emptied the pistol into her just to be sure.

She pulled a small data chip from her pocket, placing it on Li An’s desk.  It was evidence that would lead to Ryan Warren.  When the Alliance was blamed for assassinating the head of C1 in the middle of the CAC’s secure wartime facility, all restraint would be fall away.  The stage would be set for Armageddon.

She turned and left the room, pausing to take hold of the doorframe.  She was suddenly lightheaded.  She took a breath and walked back toward her desk, making it about halfway before she fell to the ground, gasping for her last breath.

Gavin Stark did not leave loose ends.

Jennings stared at the main display, watching the enemy fleet approaching, a cluster of 36 small icons moving directly toward his small ship.  They had altered their vector to intercept Sand Devil, so there was no doubt his ship had been detected.  Jennings knew he was staring at his death approaching.  The damaged Torch couldn’t fight off one vessel in its current condition, much less a whole fleet.

Verason had tried to get ship identification data on the fleet, or at least basic mass estimates, but the scanners were too damaged for anything like that.  His barely functioning sensor suite told him 36 ships were approaching, but that was all.  Not that it mattered.  The Martian fleet was still out at Saturn, and he couldn’t imagine Admiral Campbell could have made it back this far so quickly.  Even if he could have, he had no reason to come this way.  The Alliance forces under Admiral Garret were at Columbia supporting the Marine invasion there.  The rest of the Superpowers’ fleets were fighting each other out in the colonies, or they were in open revolt.  He couldn’t think of a scenario where these inbound ships were friendlies.

Jennings sighed softly.  Eliminate all other possibilities, he thought, and you must be left with the truth.  Those ships had to be Stark’s, and that meant Sand Devil would be destroyed the instant they came into firing range.  Then the armada would move to Stark’s base, and Cain’s people would die too.  If they weren’t already dead.  And the chance to eliminate Stark before he achieved his final victory would be lost.

The Martian captain had faced death before and escaped, but he couldn’t come up with a way to get his people out of this.  Surrender was unthinkable, even if the enemy would accept it, and his ship was too battered to flee.  He and his crew would fight, but he knew that was almost laughable.  He doubted they would even damage an enemy vessel before they were blown to atoms.

“Resend the communication to Mars.”  They’d already transmitted, but Jennings wanted to be sure it got through.  Roderick Vance had to know about Stark’s base, especially if Sand Devil was destroyed and Cain’s Marines overwhelmed.  If they got the word to Mars, at least his people wouldn’t die in vain.  Perhaps Vance would find some way to strike at Stark.

“Resending, Captain.”  Verason sounded as resigned to his fate as Jennings.  But there was no panic, no loss of focus.  If he had to die, he was resolved to die well.  “Message successfully transmitted, sir.”

“Very well, Lieutenant.”  He was proud of his people, and he felt fortunate to command such dedicated warriors.  He stared ahead as the wave of small ovals moving steadily across the display.  “Now, please bring us to battlestations.”  Laughable or not, he was resolved his ship was not going down without a fight.

Cain spun around the corner, firing half a dozen bursts into the open air.  The enemy had pulled back, leaving the corridor undefended.  Two bodies were lying on the ground, victims of Cain’s deadly shooting during the firefight, but no live enemy soldiers remained.

The Marines had fought three different enemy groups since entering the base, and they’d used one of their portable mines on the third, killing half a dozen enemy soldiers and blowing apart another section of Gavin Stark’s base.  The explosives had come in handy, but they only had one left, and Cain had it marked for the door of the control center.

Their navigation had been all guess work to this point, and Cain was following pure instinct now.  If he was right, they were near the control center, and that seemed as likely a place to find Stark as any.  He was anxious, and the closeness of his goal was like a weight around his neck.  He reminded himself Stark had control of the base’s surveillance systems.  The Marines had destroyed every camera they found, but he doubted they’d gotten them all.  Even if they had, the trail of destroyed surveillance systems pinpointed their location nearly as well as any camera.  Stark wouldn’t be waiting quietly to serve himself up to Cain’s Marines; he would be ready.  Cain wasn’t sure what his adversary would do, but he was sure it would be something unexpected.  Don’t underestimate Stark, he reminded himself.

Breyer pulled up behind Cain, his rifle at the ready.  There were hatches all along the corridor, and enemy soldiers could come out of any of them.  “I’m running low on ammo, Erik.  I’ve got this cartridge and two more.”

“Me too.”  Halligan was right behind Breyer.

Cain knew they were all low on ammo.  He was worse off than any of them, down to his last cartridge.  But that meant nothing to him.  When he was out of bullets, he’d use his blade.  Or his armored fist.  Or he’d jump out of his armor naked as the day he was born and rip the bastards apart with his bare hands.  But Gavin Stark was not going to escape him.

“Let’s make them count, boys.”  Cain ejected his empty magazine, slamming the final cartridge in place.  “That looks like it might be the command center.”  He pointed down the corridor, to a set of double doors.  He cranked up his magnification until he could read the small letters just above the access plate.  Control Center.  Well, Cain thought, that’s an amusing breach of security for Stark, labeling the control room for us.

“OK, let’s have that last mine.”  Cain reached behind him grabbing the heavy sphere as Breyer handed it up to him.  He punched in a series of numbers, activating the explosive and setting it for ten seconds.

He turned and looked back at his five surviving companions.  “You guys all ready?”  They all nodded.  “We’ve come a long way to get here, gentlemen.  If this is to be our final fight, I say we make it a worthy one.  Gavin Stark should have died years ago, and now we five will make certain he does.  Killing the bastard is our only priority.  Remember that.  If Stark dies, we have won, and we will have saved our friends and comrades from death and slavery.”  He paused, his head panning slowly across the small group.

Cain extended his armored hand toward the Marines.  “If we are marked to die here, I say for myself, I could not hope to fall in better company or alongside such brave and noble warriors.”  He took a deep breath.  “The Corps forever.”

“The Corps forever,” they responded in unison, extending their own hands and laying them atop Cain’s.

He turned and took another breath, pushing back the wave of emotions.  He leaned around the corner, activating the explosive and sliding it down the hallway.  He pulled back, waiting for the explosion.  “I love you, Sarah,” he whispered softly to himself.

The corridor erupted as the mine detonated, and Cain leapt to his feet.  “Now, men.  Follow me.”  And he ran around the corner, through the flames and billowing smoke.

“Attention unidentified vessel, this is Admiral Francisco Mondragon, Alliance navy, on the flagship Wellington.  Do not make any hostile moves or attempt to flee, or you will be fired upon.”  His voice was heavy with suspicion.

Jennings heard the words blaring through the com, but it took a few seconds for realization to set in.  He felt excitement flooding through his body as he stared at the phalanx of approaching vessels, now identified not as enemies, but as Alliance allies.

“Please identify yourself at once.”  Mondragon was impatient, demanding.

He looked over at Verason.  “If you’d be so kind as to open a channel, Lieutenant.”  He couldn’t hold back the smile forcing its way onto his lips.  “Greetings, Admiral Mondragon.  This is Captain Ben Jennings, commanding the Martian Confederation Ship Sand Devil.”  He paused for an instant and added, “We are very glad to see you.”

“Please accept my greetings, Captain.”  Mondragon’s voice relaxed, shifting to a much friendlier tone.  “We have just come from Columbia at Admiral Garret’s orders to assemble a status report and to take any actions we deem prudent.  Can you update us on recent events?”

Jennings exhaled hard.  “Admiral, we have a lot of news to pass on, and I’m afraid almost none of it is good.”  He paused.  “But you have come upon us in the middle of an urgent mission.  We have discovered Gavin Stark’s base in the asteroid belt, and we just landed General Cain and his people there, less than 100,000 kilometers from this position.”  Another pause, briefer than the last.  “I’m afraid they are heavily outnumbered and probably in need of assistance, Admiral.  We were about to return after transmitting a status report to Martian GHQ.”  The excitement slowly slipped away from his tone.  “I’m afraid the general and his men are in a desperate situation.  They may even be dead already.”

“Lead us there, Captain.”  There was cold determination in Mondragon’s voice.  “We have a Marine contingent aboard, and I am certain they are ready to assist General Cain.”

“My pleasure, Admiral Mondragon.”  He turned and motioned toward Verason.  “We are transmitting coordinates to your fleet now.”  He hesitated, glancing over as his officer sent the data.  “We have considerable battle damage, Admiral, and we are unable to accelerate at greater than 3g.  I suggest that your lead vessels proceed immediately to the base as quickly as possible.  Before it’s too late.”

“We’re on the way, Captain.”  Mondragon’s voice was like tempered steel.  “Follow at your best speed.”  The Alliance admiral cut the line, and a few seconds later, the fleet began accelerating at 7g, heading directly for Stark’s base.

“Let’s make our best speed to follow, Lieutenant.”  Jennings leaned back and sighed.  “We have an appointment with Gavin Stark.”

Cain leapt through the shattered wreckage of the door, his eyes scanning the room, assessing any threats.  There were half a dozen officers at their posts, but no armored troops.  And no Gavin Stark.

“Ghomes, keep watch on the door.”

“Yes, sir.”  Ghomes’ response was as sharp as a razor.

Cain glanced quickly back, watching as the veteran sergeant moved to the entry, cautiously peering out into the corridor.

“All clear, General.”  Ghomes stood where he was, looking out into the hallway, his rifle at the ready.

Cain walked over toward one of the control room officers.  He towered over the unarmored man, looking down like some monster from a children’s nightmare.  “Where is Gavin Stark?” she asked, his voice calm.

“You are mistaken.  He is not…”

The officer’s head exploded as Cain fired his assault rifle from 20 centimeters.  “Wrong answer,” he roared, his amplified voice almost shaking the structural supports.  He walked down to the next station and aimed his gun at the terrified officer sitting there.

“Where is he?  I know he was here, so where did he go?”  Cain’s gloved finger was poised on the trigger of his assault rifle.

Teller was standing behind Cain, watching uncomfortably.  He understood his friend’s motivations, but he couldn’t understand how a man as loyal and honorable as Cain could become such a cold-blooded killer.  When Cain said he would let nothing stand in his way, Teller understood he meant it.  Literally.  To Erik Cain, nothing was important enough to stand in the way of killing Gavin Stark, no covenant of civilized behavior, no hint of mercy.

The terrified officer glanced over at one of his comrades.  He was shaking, and sweat was beading up along top of his head.

“Don’t look at him.”  Cain spoke softly again, the raging anger of his outburst seemingly gone.  “He’s not the one who’s going to blow your brains all over your workstation.  That’s me.”  He paused for a few seconds.  “Now, I’m going to ask you one more time…and only one.  Where is Gavin Stark?”  Cain knew all of Stark’s people were scared to death of their psychopathic master, and he’d be damned if he was going to allow them to be less terrified of him.

The miserable officer squirmed in his chair, his body shifting away from Cain’s armored bulk.  “He…”

“He what?”  Cain moved the rifle up, holding it right in front of the officer’s face.  “Spit it out.  You may make a live prisoner yet.”

“He…he left.”  The prisoner glanced back to his comrade, who was shaking his head.

Cain whipped the rifle around and fired, his hypervelocity round tearing the target’s head right off.  “I told you not to look at him.  Now tell me where Stark is.”  There was impatience in his tone now, and a deep coldness.  A dark spirit of vengeance controlled Cain now, the man totally submerged, hidden beneath the elemental fury that was driving him.

“Down to the landing bay.  The base was compromised, so he is leaving.”

Cain spun around.  “Let’s go.  We’ve got to stop him.”  He turned back, his eyes panning over the remaining officers sitting in their chairs.  His arm began to move slowly.

Teller knew what Cain was going to do.  “Erik, you take Elliott and Jack with you and chase after Stark.  Douglas and I will handle the prisoners and see if we can shut down the launch sequence from here.”  He took a deep breath and held it.  He wasn’t going to have a dispute with Cain, but if he could save the prisoners’ lives he would.  He wasn’t even sure why.  He knew they were all cutthroats and murderers.  Maybe he’d just seen enough senseless death.

Cain nodded.  “Good.  See what you can do.  Anything to keep that ship from taking off.”  He turned his head.  “Breyer, Halligan, with me.”  He moved to the door, pausing to take a quick look down the hallway before leaping through and breaking into a near run.  He was close.  Too close to let Stark slip away again.