The Hunted Assassin (32 page)

Camille stepped to the side, allowing Francisco space to begin freeing Jaxon’s ankles. Jaxon and Camille’s eyes locked, as if life were reaffirming its grip on their existence together.

Camille moved to Oliver, who was working on gaining access to the rest of the space station. “What’s our play?”

“Well, assuming that I can get this door open, I expect a fair amount of resistance on the other side.”

Camille nodded and took in a deep breath. She finished stowing her emergency breather before withdrawing her plasma gun from its holster. She thumbed off the safety and placed her hand on Oliver’s back. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Oliver slipped a cylindrical device from his side pocket and thumbed the activator, causing alternating red lights to flash all around its edge. Then, he opened the door.

56

The two guards stationed by the door were momentarily caught off guard. The mechanical seal grunted its release and the door cracked open, but just a few inches. Before either of the guards could react, a grenade dropped to the metal floor and the door reclosed. A quick four seconds later, the amount of time that Oliver dialed in, a muffled explosion reverberated through the airlock.

Oliver dialed open the door once again and found the two guards sprawled across the floor, motionless.

“Are they dead?” Camille asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. She wasn’t necessarily leery of seeing corpses, but it was a new experience.

“No, just incapacitated,” Oliver said, stepping over the bodies. “It was just a concussion grenade. More bark than bite. However, these have a little extra
juice
to them. They’ll knock you out if you’re within range. Otherwise, they normally cause temporary blindness and loss of hearing. They’ll recover, but we’ll be long gone before that.”

Camille followed Oliver’s steps down the narrow corridor. They strafed along the wall, prepared for more guards. Guards that never came.

When they reached the first intersection, Oliver eased to the edge and peered around the corner. It was clear. Without pause, Oliver lurched ahead in the direction that he hoped they’d find the source of the voice over the intercom.

A few meters down, they came to a closed door. The plaque next to the door read: airlock control center.

“He’s gotta be in here,” Oliver said.

Camille stepped around Oliver and was about to press the console button when Oliver grasped her arm.

“Let me, boss. I have a bigger frame than you and can take more of the potential hits. Hang back, but come in a few seconds after and clean up what I don’t get on my first pass.”

As eager as Camille was to eliminate the putrid man responsible for nearly killing Jaxon, she saw the logic in Oliver’s thinking and stepped back.

Oliver keyed the console, and the door whisked open. Plasma bursts instantly blasted out of the opening. Oliver dropped to the ground and rolled to the side, pointing his own plasma gun into the room. Three quick blasts from his pistol and the commotion halted. Oliver stayed on his back, his pistol pointed into the room. Several moments of silence passed before he grinned.

Camille, taking Oliver’s smile as a good sign, tilted her head around the corner and into the control room. There were two more guards on the ground, dead. There was a third man in the room who was seated in the only chair. He had dark skin, was in his mid-thirties, and wore green combat fatigues and a beret tilted to the side. His face was pockmarked from years of acne, and the left side of his head was badly mutilated. It was Pablo Guzman.

Camille brought her pistol up to the side of his head in a quick motion as she stepped into the room. “You sonofabitch,” she blurted as she slid her finger over the trigger. “Give me a reason, asshole.”

The look on Guzman’s face was at first stunned, then placid acceptance. “Oh, my dear. I shall not give you a reason, for you will die before that happens. You see, I have already triggered the silent alarm on my station, and an army of a hundred men are on their way here right now. You and your team will be dead soon enough.”

Anger pulsed through Camille’s veins, and she hauled off and smacked Guzman across the face with the butt of her gun. “Try again, asshole. Call off your rabid dogs and I might let you live.”

Guzman soothed the side of his face at the point of impact. He looked up into Camille’s burning eyes and laughed out loud. “I know why you’re here; Brutus already told me. You came here to put a stop to my operation and to take my life. You’re here to complete the mission that Jaxon Rasner failed to do twenty years ago.”

“But I didn’t fail,” Jaxon said, stepping into the room. “You were never part of my mission. It was all about your father and you know that.”

“Won’t you just die?” Guzman asked, staring incredulously at Jaxon. “It has taken me years to find my father’s killer, and you continue to rob me of my revenge.”

“Heh, I aim to please,” Jaxon said with a smirk.

“It doesn’t matter. As I just told your FiFi, I’ve already activated the silent defense alert for the station and your time is now limited. Mark my words, you will all be dead real soon.”

Jaxon looked at each of the team members in the room. “We still have a job to do,” Jaxon said, “and less time to do it. Miles, why don’t you go see what you can do about stopping our hosts from ending the party too soon? Clay, why don’t you and Camille go get the research that you need and then find us a ride off this station?”

“What about you?” Camille asked.

Jaxon stepped up to Guzman and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Me? Oh, I’m going to get a little more acquainted with our new friend here.”

Jaxon dragged Guzman from the chair and threw him out into the corridor. He continued driving him toward the airlock he’d just left.

57

Blood caked the side of Guzman’s face where Camille had struck him, yet he didn’t make an effort to wipe it away. “You know, Señor, there is nothing to be gained from doing this,” Guzman said as Jaxon fastened the restraints at Guzman’s wrists.

Jaxon only smiled as he kneeled down and tied his legs to the same posts where his had been a short time ago. “You’re probably right, but experience dictates that I have to at least make an effort.”

With Guzman tied in place, Jaxon returned to the doorway leading to the rest of the space station. He keyed the door open and slid a supply crate into the door’s path, forcing it to remain open. Next, he stood at the control panel and began deactivating the safety settings.

“What exactly is your plan, Señor? I assure you that no matter the torture, I will not divulge anything that you’re after. Besides, my security will be here in—”

Jaxon ignored Guzman’s attempts to dissuade him from proceeding. After he’d completed the reprogramming of the exterior airlock, he turned to Guzman and smiled.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, Pablo. I’ve only been with my team for a short period and let me tell you, they are far more resourceful than you could imagine. I’d wager that Miles is preoccupying your crack security team as we speak.”

“Oh, I think it’s you who’s mistaken, Señor. You underestimate my control on this station. It’s quite impenetrable, and that’s only due to the dedication and resolve of every man on board. They are my family. They will not relent until I am safe.”

Jaxon shrugged and threw his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. “Okay then. You have me. Should I just stand here and wait for them to handcuff me again?” Jaxon asked sarcastically.

Guzman scowled. “You jest, but just wait.”

“Well, while we wait, there’s no harm in you giving me a little information. Seeing as you’re going to capture me again and kill me and all that, what do you have to lose?” Jaxon asked.

“Let me guess. You want to know who Brutus is?” Guzman asked.

“That would be a start. It seems like whoever it is, he’s been in your back pocket for quite a while. I have my own guesses, but I would like to know for certain, so I know who’s going to die next.”

“Ha, you amuse me, Mr. Rasner—”

“Please, Pablo,” Jaxon interrupted. “I feel we’ve known each other long enough; I think you can use my first name.”

“You amuse me, Jaxon.” Guzman said his name with Spanish flair. “You still think you’re going to get out of this alive, and I think we both know that can never happen. Not since you’ve seen my secret lair.”

“Brutus. Who is he?” Jaxon asked, tiring of the mindless chatter with Guzman’s overinflated ego.

“Let’s just say that he’s a powerful man and he would not be very happy if I divulged his identity. You might say he’s quite untouchable. He’s in an absolutely sensational position, really.”

Jaxon smiled. He knew Guzman would never reveal Brutus’ true identity. Besides, he already had enough information to track down his hunches.

“Fair enough,” Jaxon said, moving back to the control panel. He pivoted the display away from the wall so that he could see Guzman’s face as he activated the exterior airlock. With just a few quick motions on the touch screen, the door to outer space began to inch open.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Guzman asked, his confidence vanishing.

“I just thought I’d open a window to get some fresh air in here. Isn’t it a little stuffy in here?”

Guzman craned his neck around and saw the crate keeping the door open. “You’re crazy! If you open the door, you will kill us all. If you haven’t noticed, we removed your environmental suit when we brought you on board.”

Jaxon shrugged. “No matter,” he said as he paused the opening of the door. He adjusted the setting on the panel until the door reclosed, quieting the hideous whistling sound of the air rushing out into space.

“If you’re trying to scare me into giving you the information, you might as well give up now. I’m not going to betray Brutus.”

“Oh, but you have already. I know exactly what I need, and now for the next question. Your answer will be the key to your survival,” Jaxon said, hovering his hand over the control panel.

“I don’t know what else you want from me,” Guzman said, watching Jaxon intently.

“You said earlier that it was your team that was sent to take my life. You also said that Lily’s death was by your command.”

As Jaxon built up his question, Guzman appeared to know the direction of the interrogation and began to nod his head.

“So you know what I’m looking for? You’re a smart man, Pablo. Why don’t you just tell me?”

Guzman smiled broadly. “That’s what you’ve always wanted to know. From the very beginning. Since the moment you stepped on this station, isn’t it? You want to know about your daughter. Isn’t that right, Señor?”

“See? I knew you had intelligence. Tell me where she is and I will not open the door.”

“Before I tell you, Señor, you need to untie me first. You killed my father and maimed me at the same time. How can I trust that you won’t still kill me?”

Jaxon triggered the airlock again, the hiss returning as air began to escape. Once the door was just a few centimeters open, he halted its movement.

“Listen, Guzman,” Jaxon said, getting in the face of his hostage. “Tell me where she is right now or I will simply walk away, leaving you here to die.”

Jaxon stared into Guzman’s fear-riddled face. Sweat began to bead up on his face, glistening on his hideous scars.

“How do I know you won’t just leave me anyway?” Guzman asked, his eyes once again darting to the blocked open door.

“You have to trust me, Pablo. Tell me what I want to know and I will let you live. If you fuck with me, I will kill you. Just like I did your father.” Jaxon stared intently at Guzman, assuring him that he was done messing around.

“B-B-Brutus. It’s Brutus. He was supposed to kill her and your girlfriend, but he kept her for himself,” Guzman pleaded.

“Looks like we’re back to square one. Who is Brutus?”

Guzman sighed heavily and averted Jaxon’s stare. He dropped his head and looked at the floor. “Brutus is—”

Suddenly, warning sirens blared throughout the space station, followed by an automated voice.

“Warning: Hull breach detected: level six. Hull breach detected: level seven. Hull breach detected: level eight.”

“Well, I guess that’s my cue,” Jaxon said, standing upright and striding toward the blocked open door.

“But, Señor!” Guzman screamed. “You said you wouldn’t kill me.”

Jaxon paused at the door and contemplated Guzman’s words. He turned toward the drug lord and smiled. “But I haven’t killed you. You’ve killed yourself.”

Jaxon pressed his shoulder on the edge of the door, releasing the pressure on the crate. In one swift motion, he kicked the crate to the side and stepped through the closing door. As soon as the airlock sealed, the howling whistle ceased. Unfortunately, the warning sirens continued to blare.

58

As Jaxon walked away from the airlock, he could hear Guzman’s faint screams for several meters. Jaxon forced the pleas out of his mind and rushed forward, beginning to retrace his steps through the facility. He thought that he could recall each of the turns they made when entering the labyrinth of corridors, but he wasn’t completely sure he didn’t get turned around somewhere between the holding cell and the airlock. Only time would tell, and he could only hope that his path to the docking bay wasn’t somehow blocked off.