The Hunted Assassin (13 page)

“My God, what have I done?” I mumbled.

“You have to move, now, Saber,” crackled into my ear.

So much for radio silence, I thought.

Stunned, I cursed at myself for being so careless. How could I have overlooked the potential of injuring another person, let alone a child? I tried to keep my hands from shaking, but it was difficult. Then the crackle came once again.

“Saber, do you read? You have to move now. El Tonto’s guards are already on the move. You’ve got sixty seconds to get out of there.”

Forcing away my remorse, I lurched into action. With a practiced hand, I dismantled my sniper rifle and slipped each of the parts into a compact briefcase, just like I’d done hundreds of times through training. I closed the window and shuttered the drapes in the small hotel room. I rushed to the far side of the room and slipped the briefcase into an exposed cavity in the wall. Once in place, I slid the bureau in front of it before doing one last pass through the room, being sure not to leave anything out of place.

Calm and collected, I stepped out into the corridor and made for the exit stairwell. I knew that as soon as I reached street level, El Tonto’s goons would be all over the place, most likely being assisted by the local police.

As I descended the stairway, I pulled out a wig of slick brown hair and donned it over my tightly cropped sandy blond hair. Then, from my inside pocket, I slipped out a dark brown mustache adhered to a piece of cellophane. I paused momentarily, long enough to apply the critical piece of my disguise.

Finally, on the move again, I slipped off my jacket and discarded it in the stairwell. My undershirt was of white linen, with sweat stains in the armpits. I now looked like a Mexican worker that had been slaving away in the sun for many hours. When I reached the first-floor landing, I picked up a broom and dust pan that I’d previously placed in the inside corner, completing my disguise. I stepped out onto the street.

20

A stinging pain overcame Jaxon as he rolled to his side. He was waking up. He tried to reach up and soothe the back of his head, but his hands didn’t cooperate. They were bound at his sides.

He opened his eyes and blinked several times, trying to remove the blurriness from his vision. After several moments of uneasiness, his surroundings started to come into focus. It was clear to him that he was in some sort of cargo facility by the multiple lashing points around the perimeter. At the far end of the bay, the wall was slanted up and away and had signs of substantial use. A retractable loading ramp. He was on a military supply ship.

To his right, there was a ship’s ladder leading up to a platform with a single man-sized door. Leading into the rest of the ship, he assumed.

Jaxon tried to stand, but the restraints at his side were lashed to the bindings at his seat. He looked down and found that he was not only bound at the wrists and waist, but his ankles were shackled as well.

“What the hell?” Jaxon murmured, trying to get a grasp of his situation.

As if on cue, the door on the landing above grinded open, and a man in black military fatigues stepped out. He gripped the sides of the ship’s ladder and slid down to his level then headed right for Jaxon.

“What’s going on here?” Jaxon asked, attempting to raise his hands.

The man in black walked by Jaxon, ignoring his question. He continued past and sat a few seats away.

“Hey, are you deaf? Why am I in handcuffs? Who are you?” Jaxon asked again.

A faint smile crept across the stranger’s face. He fastened his seatbelt and pulled a magazine from beneath his seat and began reading.

Jaxon rolled his neck to the side, attempting to release the pressure building up on his spine. The pain was excruciating, and it felt like he’d been run over by a truck. He thought back to his last moments of consciousness, but most of it was a blur.

He was with Gillette on the moon base, and they were attempting to … to do what?
What were they trying to do?
Jaxon wondered, running through multiple scenarios in his mind.

Wait a second,
he thought.
Why was I even on the moon?

Slowly, Jaxon worked backward through what had happened, and few seconds later, everything came flooding back. The ambush at his apartment, the assassination attempts in the service tunnels as well as at his tea shop. Everything rushed into his mind like a freight train.

“Okay, if you don’t want to tell me who you are, can you tell me why you want me dead?” Jaxon asked, trying a different approach.

The man shrugged as he flipped through the pages of his magazine.

“Come on, man. You’ve got to give me something,” Jaxon pleaded.

“Ain’t got to do shit,” said the man in black without looking up.

“Okay, fine. Can you at least unhook me from this chair? I’d like to stand and stretch my legs,” Jaxon asked, already calculating potential escape routes.
But escape to where?
he wondered.

Surprisingly, the man in black stood and unlocked the steel cable that had been run through the shackles at his feet and waist. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he said.

Jaxon stood and promptly sat right back down due to dizziness.

“How long have I been out?” Jaxon asked.

“Not long,” the man said.

Jaxon stood again, and waited for him to expound, but it became clear that he was a man of few words. He’d already sat back down and resumed flipping through his magazine.

As soon as Jaxon’s equilibrium was balanced, he began to shuffle his shackled feet up and down the cargo bay, trying to formulate his plan further. Experience told him that the difference in the artificial gravity and the momentum he felt in the ship’s superstructure meant that he was, in fact, flying through space. Besides living on earth for most of his life, Jaxon had spent a significant amount of time on the moon, or on various space stations. Each environment had its own distinct level of gravity that he’d learned to recognize. The gravity beneath his feet right now was unmistakable and doom quickly set in as he realized that he was out of luck for any attempt to escape. Unless he could get out of his shackles, he was at the mercy of his captors.

But who were his captors? Where were they taking him? His only guess was to the outer ring, which oddly enough was his initial destination.

After a bit of time pacing back and forth, the man in black called.

“You better sit back down, boss. We’ll be landing soon, and we’d hate to see you get … knocked around,” he said with a wry smile.

Reluctantly, Jaxon agreed. Depending on where they would be stopping, the landing could be rough. He retook his seat and the man in black leaned over and refastened his seatbelt.

“Got to stay buckled up, you know? It could be bumpy,” he said.

Shortly after, Jaxon felt the momentum of the ship change and the pit in his stomach rose. They were dropping. Oddly enough, the gravity beneath him changed as well. It was much stronger, and he knew instantly where they were heading. They were returning to earth.

21

The floor plates beneath Jaxon’s feet began to vibrate. Jaxon gathered that the landing thrusters had just been engaged and the moment of his reintroduction to the Earth’s surface was imminent. The reunion after eight peaceful years living in hiding.

As the ship continued to pitch and roll, adjusting for the landing platform, Jaxon thought more about a potential escape. Flying through space created certain difficulties for breaking away, but once he was in a breathable atmosphere, the playing field was level.

He looked down at his shackled ankles and judged his stride to be about 12 inches. The bindings at his waist allowed his arms to freely move about the same distance in each direction, but not enough to effectively aid in any heroic maneuvers. He had to get out of the shackles first. At least he was free of the lashing cable, being held securely by a simple seatbelt now. Perhaps if his timing was right, he could pop his release button and spring onto his captor and immobilize him long enough to search for a key to his restraints.

Jaxon looked at the man in black, trying to gauge his alertness, when he suddenly returned Jaxon’s gaze. It was almost as if he knew precisely what Jaxon was thinking.

“Don’t try it, buddy,” he said, dropping the magazine into an empty chair. The man in black sat upright and crossed his arms, glaring straight at Jaxon.

Well, the cat’s out of the bag on that plan,
Jaxon thought.

Moments later, a loud concussion reverberated throughout the cargo bay as the landing gear touched down. The vibrations beneath his feet subsided almost instantly. That’s when Jaxon felt a faint movement, almost as if he was on the water.
Have we actually landed on a sea platform?

Jaxon was aware that several private organizations had been using the floating landing pads since earlier in the century, but they were only utilized for non-habitable missions. Jaxon wondered what else might have changed since he last set foot on earth.

As this new situation began to set in, Jaxon returned his thoughts to his escape plan. He knew how to swim, and despite being off earth for such a long period of time, he still remained in good physical shape. He was confident that he could swim with ease, despite being shackled as he was. Granted, he’d have to swim like a fish, utilizing his abdominal muscles and leg kicks for propulsion. He just wondered whether it would be a better alternative than staying captive to who knows who.

With a rough escape plan in place, Jaxon decided that his best chance for success was to get near the edge of the landing platform. If he could then catch his captors off guard, he could simply jump out into the water. The likelihood of one of them following was pretty slim. Or so he thought.

The man in black unfastened his seatbelt, stood, then adjusted his posture. A common maneuver when returning to the gravity of earth after a long space flight. “Up,” he said, staring directly at Jaxon.

Jaxon attempted to stand, but his own seatbelt was still fastened. “A little help?” Jaxon smiled.

The man leaned down and unfastened Jaxon’s seatbelt before gripping him firmly by the shoulders, lifting him upright.

“Thanks.”

The man in black guided Jaxon forward, toward the cargo bay door. As they neared the door, Jaxon felt the grip strengthen around his arm and slowly pull him backward. With his other hand, the man triggered the door release, and the pressure seal whispered softly. The pressure equalized with the environment outside and the door slowly grinded open. Once it was clear, Jaxon saw a ramp already touching the landing platform below. The man shoved Jaxon forward, causing him to nearly trip down the ramp.

The salty air infiltrated Jaxon’s nostrils instantly. “Ah, earth.”

As Jaxon was guided down the cargo ramp, he glanced back to see the type of ship they were flying on, hoping to determine its origin. No visible insignia appeared anywhere on the hull. There wasn’t even a vessel number stenciled on the hull, which he thought was mandatory for galactic travel.

Once on the landing platform, the man guided Jaxon toward the edge of the platform, practically inviting him to carry out his plan. Jaxon watched the water carefully the closer they got to the edge, judging the swells of the sea. In the distance, Jaxon saw the horizon, where the sea met the sky. There was no land in site in any direction. They were at least a few miles from the coast and that worried him. His ability to swim was not in question, but the presence of sea life was. The ocean was full of predatory mammals, and Jaxon knew he would be nothing more than an appetizer for any one of them.

When they reached the edge of the platform, Jaxon quickly decided to deviate from his plan when he noticed a stairway leading down. About halfway down the steps, Jaxon was met with two more men coming up. They had equally menacing looks on their faces.

“Hi there,” Jaxon said, trying to be disarming in his approach. “How’re you doing today?”

They both ignored Jaxon as they squeezed by, continuing up to the platform.

Confusion began to set in. Jaxon had thought they’d have more guards around. And the first two people he encountered, besides the man in black, walked by him without concern.
Who are these people?
Jaxon wondered.

As they reached the bottom of the stairway, the man in black steered Jaxon in through a portal, then down a long corridor that ran the length of the landing platform. About midway down the hallway, they came to an unmarked door. The man in black straightened then knocked.

Motion could be heard from the other side of the door seconds before it swung open, instantly revealing the identity of his captors.

Perry Evans stood before him.

“Well, if it isn’t Jaxon Rasner,” Evans said, thrusting his hand out to greet Jaxon.

“In the flesh,” Jaxon tried to accept his hand, but because of the shackles, it was nearly impossible.

“My God, man. Dispense with those bindings, now,” Evans said sternly. The man in black quickly obeyed, removing the restraints from around Jaxon’s waist before kneeling down and removing the shackles from his ankles.