Читать книгу South of the Ecliptic - Donald Ph.D. Ladew - Страница 10

Chapter 6

Piehl woke from a deep sleep easily. He spent a few minutes in the fresher and trimmed his beard which hadn't had any attention in two months. He found his kit carefully cleaned and neatly stowed. The sergeant had been busy. Looking solid and tough in a clean fleet marine uniform without insignia the sergeant came in from the office cubicle.

"Will you want any particular side-arms this morning, Captain?" His voice was a cheerful growl.

Piehl was surprised at how comforting it was having the Sergeant on hand. He'd had an orderly in the Legion after his first promotion to command status. The sergeant had taken over with the ease of long experience and quickly had all the details of Piehl's life running smoothly.

Coffee with a tot of spacer's brandy in the morning, clothes, weapons and comm-sys all laid out. Before his desk had been a disorderly mess.

"A Fenwall Blaster and a Stunner in a leg strap, Sergeant. Two days and it's back into the deep. How do you feel about that?" Piehl asked.

"Good, sir. Can't say I'll be sorry to leave. I like having a destination that's more than a five minute walk."

"I agree, Sergeant. This job may be a little hairy, but by the God’s at least we'll be outward bound. Suit up, man. You and I are going into the city to see a man about some information."

"Full kit, sir?"

"Full kit, sergeant."

"Very good, sir. Should be a nice day for it."

Piehl chuckled to himself. I'll bet if I said we're going to single-handedly attack the central barracks, he'd say it was a nice day for it.

They headed out to the tubeway and caught a direct to city-center. As he left the ship, he spotted a lot of familiar faces around the docking bay. They were Legionnaires Flex had called in.

"Be alert, Sergeant, I haven't spotted anyone, but they're out there somewhere."

After a few minutes the sergeant spoke softly without moving his lips. "I've spotted two, sir."

"Where away?"

"As we move toward South-One lift-way there's a mirrored wall facing us. If you look in it you'll see them about fifty meters back. Two bureaucrat types with pale faces and metal attaché cases. They keep shifting them from hand to hand. Too damn heavy for a bureaucrat. Government workers are lazy, won't carry anything heavier'n a pay chit. These fellas are probably wearing bone induction implants, they talk without moving their lips."

"You earn your keep, Sergeant," Piehl said with admiration.

"I intend to, sir."

"What do you think, trying to put us in a box? They've probably got one or two people forward of our position."

"That would be my guess, Captain."

"Any idea where or when, Sergeant?"

"Their best bet would be the Central Tower Rotunda. Must be twenty exits in every direction from there," the sergeant said.

"Lot of people in there. I don't like the idea of blowing up a bunch of civilians even if they are bureaucrats. We've got to figure a way to deal with these bastards on our terms."

They were passing through an area of shops and businesses about a half mile from the tower. Piehl remembered something.

"Keep your eyes peeled for a red and yellow striped door," he said. "It's a maintenance access, used mostly by work robots as a machinery storage site; not likely to be anybody there. We'll go in fast and improvise."

"Sir, I'd say those guys are carrying some heavy-caliber hardware."

"Okay, let's be sure they don't get a chance to use it. As soon as we get in I'm going to climb to the overhead rails just inside the door. Use your judgment Sergeant, because as soon as they're all inside I'm going to drop down and remove them from the game."

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, maybe I should do the climbing?"

"What's the matter sergeant, worried I'll mess up my ship's suit?"

"Uh, no sir."

"That's good, because I've found what we're looking for just ahead on the right."

They moved along casually until they were opposite the door. Piehl removed an all-city access card from his jump-suit.

Damn, this had better work.

He moved to the door with a lunge and slammed the card against the I.D. Plate. Luck was with them and the big door slid back smoothly showing a dimly lit corridor.

"Go back twenty meters or so and find cover," Piehl said.

"Aye, sir."

It was a large space with machinery and parts spread around in piles. In the background he heard the throb of heavy engines and hoped it would cover any noise they might make. Piehl spotted the overhead rails, and on a damp metal wall, rungs leading upward. Piehl went up the rungs of the ladder at a run.

He grabbed a thick coil of cable going along the top of the passage and swung out then hooked a leg over one of the rails. They were slippery and he almost fell head first. The thought of falling on his head in front of their pursuers was so ludicrous he burst out laughing.

Letting the tension get to me, he thought. Loosen it up, Piehl. When he got his balance he ran down the rails in a crouch back toward the access door and waited.

For a moment nobody entered. They were smart. Whoever was out there wasn't going to hurry it. Probably waiting for the two back-up men.

After several minutes one of the two attaché types came through the door only the case was gone. In its place he carried an assault rifle with professional ease. Sophisticated equipment. Right behind the first man came his partner. The first jumped to one side and the next guy moved to the other side.

After a moment's hesitation they began moving forward. Neither man spoke but they moved with a familiarity and timing that spoke of experience. Piehl waited for the other two. About then he heard a metallic crash down the passage.

The first two men, now well into the gloom, crouched quickly and looked back toward the access door. It was a bad moment. If they looked up Piehl was in real trouble.

They weren't looking for him because just then the back-up men came through the door and stopped to let their eyes accustom to the darkness. They didn't separate which suited Piehl.

The two front men came up out of their crouch and began moving again. Piehl maneuvered himself over the two near the door. With the blaster in hand he dropped in the two-man attack position - right out of the manual.

One stiff leg knocked the man on the left forward onto his face and Piehl brought the other raised leg down like a piston catching the second man in the forehead. Piehl felt the crunch of bone.

He rolled toward the other man and swung the blaster at his head.

This bastard is quick! Piehl grunted with the effort. He only hit him a glancing blow. The man grimaced, but stayed with it enough to try to get his blast rifle into action.

Piehl had no choice. He brought the Fenwall up and shot the man in the face.

The man flew into the nearest wall, a crumpled mess. Piehl continued his roll toward some machinery beside the wall. None too soon. A searing orange flame shot through the space where he'd been and ‘opened’ the access door without benefit of I.D. plate.

It was a mistake. The two guys forward stood to shoot. The sergeant moved silently from where he was hidden and calmly shot first the one on the left, and then the one on the right with his old Marine-issue blaster; one-two, like shooting wild birds in the marshes.

There were a couple of sickening thuds as they were thrown to their faces in front of Piehl.

The sergeant ran forward on the double. "What about those two, Captain?"

"Gone to the back of the line, sergeant."

The sergeant nodded with satisfaction. "Nice work, sir."

His assessment of things was simple: have an enemy, see the enemy, shoot him, move on.

"Time we were leaving, sir."

It was hard to understand. Outside in the street it was as if nothing had happened. The word was that it would take the second Drakon invasion to get anyone's attention on Regents and even that might go unnoticed. Nobody looked their way and they blended into the crowds of traffic heading toward the Central Tower.

As they passed through the Rotunda with its crowds in the tens of thousands, Piehl had an immediate and gruesome picture of what it would have been like if the action had started there.

When Piehl called and said he wanted to purchase information, he had a thought that his secure line might not be that secure. But he decided to keep the appointment as arranged.

The Broker was an ordinary looking man; short, slightly obese, dressed Fourth Imperium sloppy. There was nothing ordinary about the man's mind and after the credits were transferred he gave Piehl a rundown on the politics surrounding the King that left little to be told.

At the end of the interview he spoke candidly. "Look, Sir Aubrey, Claren Trone is your best bet. He was the old Federation's most determined enemy. It was Trone who pushed to have all surviving Legionnaires executed as a war criminals. He stays in the background and has great influence with the Star Lords."

"Is there any connection between him and the Worlds in the Dark?" Piehl asked.

"Of course. He's the silent but controlling partner in Far Reach Trading and Shipping."

Bloody hell! Piehl thought. That's the biggest shipping company in the Imperium.

"What is not generally known," the Broker went on, "is that he acts as a connection to all the riff-raff in the Dark Worlds, through the Out Worlds Trading Company. It's well hidden but he's the one who owns and controls it."

As Piehl and the sergeant made their way back to the docking bay Piehl realized he wasn't surprised by anything he'd heard. The problem was what would he do with it?