[01] Elite: Wanted (22 page)

‘I don’t want to live like that,’ Orla said.

‘Me neither.’

‘So this is a suicide run?’

‘Not very Dane’s Law, huh?’

‘So why the delay? Why are we leaving Jenny in a cage longer than necessary?’

‘I need an out for Ji.’

Orla nodded.

‘Can you get behind that?’ Ravindra continued.

‘Yeah,’ Orla said after some moments of thought.

‘Do you think Jenny could?’

‘Yeah,’ Orla finally said. ‘I think she’d be okay with this. When we get her you can ask her. If she spends her last moments beating on you with a wrench, then we know that we were wrong. So where’s it gonna be?’

Ravindra told her. A huge smile split Orla’s face.

‘I’m smiling because I’m drunk. That’s madness.’

‘And in two days time …’

‘It’s going to be in a very interesting place,’ Orla finished.

‘Look, we both need some sleep, then we need to do what we can with the
Song
and I’ve got some things I need to—’ The comms icon in Ravindra’s lenses started flashing. It was a ship-to-ship link with a full holo avatar. She checked the caller ID. ‘What does this arsehole want?’ Ravindra muttered. She piped the signal through the common room’s holo-emitter, making sure its lens was turned away from the bloodstain on the floor. Merkel’s bruised, broken-toothed, smiling visage appeared, flickering from the long-range nature of the transmission, in the common room.

‘I’m afraid I can’t recommend a plastic surgeon,’ Ravindra told the image. Merkel’s smile wavered slightly. Ravindra counted the delay. He was at least two light seconds out. That covered a whole lot of space.

‘We’re too pretty to need them,’ a drunken Orla told him laconically.

‘Big score, Khanguire? Seems you’ve got the Syndicate pretty pissed with you.’

‘I’m busy, Merkel, what do you want?’

A pause. ‘
Captain
Merkel,’ Merkel hissed.

‘Bye,’ Khanguire said and opened her mouth to give the order to break the transmission.

‘I’ve got your son,’ Merkel told her and grinned. Ravindra and Orla stared at the image. Orla reached into the knee pocket of her cargo trousers and took out a blister pack of Purge pills.

‘Nothing to say now?’ Merkel goaded. Ravindra couldn’t talk through her cold fury. Orla popped several of the pills into her mouth and then stood up and headed for the bridge.

‘See, everyone thinks you’re a cold, hard bitch, don’t they? But little Ji, he knows better. I’ve sussed this out over the last few months we’ve been hanging together. You really love that snivelling, fucking wretch, don’t you?’

You’ve been looking for leverage to boost a score from me because you’re too lazy and inept to pull a decent job yourself
, Ravindra thought. Merkel was a stand-over pirate. The lowest form of scum.

‘Well, bad news for you, your baby boy’s fallen in with people just like you.’

‘We’re nothing like you,’ Ravindra finally managed to say.

‘Fuck you! Fuck you, you sanctimonious bitch! You’ve always looked down on me! Let me tell you something, you’re not getting out of this alive. I’m not going to be looking over my shoulder for you, waiting to see the
Song
in my scanners. You’re going to die, you’re going to die suffering and messy. That and we get the cargo from your last score, the one that Ji told us got you into all that trouble.’

She hadn’t told Ji anything about the score, but of course he’d known that they’d gone out on a job. She’d told Ji that she was in trouble. That was almost enough.
You fool, Ji
, Ravindra thought. The Syndicate connection, though, Merkel would have had to learn that from somewhere else. Someone in Harlan’s organisation? Or Harlan himself? Maybe she’d become too much of a liability.

‘Rendezvous point?’ Ravindra’s tone was calm.

‘What? You think I’m going to face up to an Imperial cutter in a Cobra? Do you think I’m stupid?’

Yes. I’m not going to fire on a ship with my son on it.

‘We meet on the station. I’m paid up. You try to move on me and Whit’s gotta protect me. And I know what you’re thinking, that you’re paid up as well, but nothing’s going to happen to you. Well, nothing on the station. That’ll just be a simple exchange of goods and personnel – and in case you’re thinking of trying anything, I’m going to have old Harlan and some of his people along, not to mention I’ve hired a few more people of my own.’

‘When?’ Ravindra asked.

‘Two hours, my berth. Who’s getting looked down on now, huh?’

‘Still you,’ Ravindra said and cut the comms link. There was a moment of self-pity, mostly brought on by fatigue, then she turned and marched to the bridge.

‘Any luck?’ Ravindra asked. Orla was seated at the scanner controls. She was covered in sweat and stank of whisky from the Purge forcing the alcohol out of her body. She didn’t look well.

‘I managed to narrow it down but we’re still looking at an awful lot of space. What’re you going to do?’

‘I’m going to go and see Harlan,’ Ravindra said as she tapped her comp ring to make the holo-keyboard appear. She typed out the text message as she walked.

‘You sold us out, you son-of-a-bitch!’ Ravindra shouted. Harlan turned around away from the window in the station’s Command and Control centre. He was leaning on his cane, backlit by Motherlode’s planetary horizon. Almost everyone in the station’s control centre stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Ravindra as she stalked up the steps from the door and onto the central gantry that ran above the workstations.

‘How’d you get in here?’ Harlan demanded. By either wall, the massive Harrelson and the whip-thin, vicious-looking Jonas kept pace with her as she strode towards Harlan. ‘Keep those hands away from those pistols, girl, or my people will burn you down.’

‘You let them take him!’ Ravindra shouted as she came all but nose-to-nose with the station boss.

‘He left here of his own free will. What happens out there isn’t my concern, but if Merkel chooses to do business on this station, he’s paid up, protected. You understand me? No trouble.’

‘What about Ji? He’s paid up.’

‘I’ve got nothing to do with what happens off the station and he fell afoul of Merkel off-station. That’s his look out. He’s just contraband now. You should have looked after him better.’

Ravindra stepped back as if she’d been slapped. She stared at Harlan. She flexed her right hand, and felt, rather than saw, Jonas shift slightly in her periphery.

‘Seems to me,’ Harlan said – he was speaking low but his voice carried across the now deathly silent station control centre – ‘that you’re just causing me more and more trouble. I’ve spoken with Merkel, so me and some of my people are going to be at the exchange just to make sure everyone plays nice, and then you’re finally off this station, understand me?’

Ravindra glared at him. ‘If anything …’

Harlan placed a finger on her lips. Ravindra was so surprised that she went quiet. Harlan leaned in close to her ear.

‘You threaten me,’ he whispered loud enough for it to carry, ‘and you die here and now.’ In her periphery she was aware of Jonas smoothly drawing a weapon and letting it hang down by his side. Ravindra flinched away from Harlan, turned and stormed out of the control centre.

For Ravindra there had always been something comforting about the familiar, angular, wedge shape of the Cobra Mk. III. It was the ship that so many pilots had started flying, though her first ship had been one of the old Mk. IIs. In some ways they were reliable old workhorses, in other ways they were frustrating pieces of shit. Nearly every frontier pilot thought fondly of them, however. Except the
Magician
. Now, looking at the familiar lines of the Cobra, she couldn’t stop wondering what had happened to her son on that ship.

Merkel had hired six gun-tramps from the station. Along with the captain himself, Alice and the other two crew – whose names Ravindra had never bothered to learn – that brought the count up to ten guns in the Cobra’s shadow in the docking berth.

Ravindra was stood about halfway between the Cobra’s ramp and the door to the docking berth, just under the tip of the Cobra’s wing. Harlan was just to her right, leaning on his cane. The cube-shaped, coded and locked cargo box was on her right. Harrelson and Jonas were standing a little way back and to either side of Ravindra and Harlan. Harrelson had an automatic shotgun slung across her front. Jonas was looking bored and inspecting his nails

Merkel stood half way down the Cobra’s ramp. Alice was next to him. The other two members of the
Magician
’s crew were at the base of the ramp. Two of the gun-tramps were walking towards Harlan and Ravindra.
Brave
Merkel, it seemed, was going to let them handle the exchange. The other four gun-tramps were in cover behind various crates, tool benches and the landing struts of the Cobra.

‘Where’s Ji?’ Ravindra demanded.

‘He’s safe, inside. You can have him when we’ve got you and the cargo.’ Merkel told her.

‘I want to see him first.’

‘So?’ Merkel asked. Harlan sighed and looked down.

‘What do you mean, “so”?’ Ravindra asked. ‘I’m not giving you a thing—’

‘Shut up, you arrogant bitch!’ Merkel screamed at her. ‘You’re not in control here, I am! You do what I say! What I want! Do you understand me?’

Ravindra was taken aback by the outburst. The thought of Ji being under this man’s power sickened her.

‘Can we get on with this?’ Harlan asked. ‘I’ve got an appointment with Al for a shave in less than half an hour and I don’t like being late.’ He held up a cheap comp ring. ‘The decrypts for the locks are on here. Merkel, you owe me credits for this, understand?’ Merkel glared at the station boss but acquiesced. The two gun-tramps came to a stop in front of the station boss. Harlan dropped the ring. ‘Shit, sorry.’ The closest gun-tramp leant down to pick it up. Harlan swiftly drew the rapier blade from his cane and rammed it through the neck of the other gun-tramp. At least a foot of the narrow blade burst from the other side of the man’s neck. He started sinking to his knees, blood pulsing from the wound and bubbling from his mouth. Harlan let go of the sword-cane and took a step back, fast-drawing the ancient pearl-handled, nickel-plated, single-action revolver from his waistband as the gun-tramp who had reached down for the comp ring straightened up.

At the same time the explosive bolts on the mocked-up secure crate blew the top and front off. Orla emerged and straightened up. She was already throwing one EM carbine to Ravindra, and was bringing her own to her shoulder.

Harlan fanned the hammer on the ancient revolver. The pistol fired, the gun-tramp in front of him staggered back.

Ravindra caught the EM carbine and ran towards the
Magician
’s loading ramp.

Merkel and Alice turned and began running back into the
Magician
as the ramp started to rise.

Harrelson shouldered her automatic shotgun and was advancing, firing short bursts at two of the gun-tramps under the Cobra. Jonas had a laser pistol in each hand and was moving quickly to one side, looking for a shot.

Orla fired two short bursts from the EM carbine. Ravindra had been broadcasting lens footage to Orla the entire time she’d been in the box. Orla had integrated the footage with her own lenses’ targeting software. As soon as she had burst out of the crate she had known where to aim.

Harlan worked the hammer of the revolver with his thumb and all but shoved it into the gun-tramp’s face. He pulled the trigger. The muzzle flash scorched the man’s skin and the impact of the bullet made the man’s face look as if it had just caved in on itself.

The two crewman at the base of the
Magician
’s ramp brought their weapons up as Ravindra sprinted towards them and the closing ramp. Orla’s burst caught one of them in the chest. The needle-like hypersonic rounds punched straight through his armour and he stumbled back and fell to the ground. Seconds later she caught the other crewman in the head with her second burst. Little pinpricks of red perforated his face.

Harlan limped back as fast as he could as the two dead gun-tramps in front of him collapsed to the ground. Harrelson stalked past him. She was firing at two of the remaining gun-tramps. The shotgun’s enormous barrel was twitching between both targets as she fired. The ball bearings from the weapon’s combat load were tearing up cargo crates and workbenches as she suppressed both of them, forcing them to keep their heads down. They were only managing the occasional return shot. One of them tried to make a run for it. He was torn apart, the high velocity ball bearings making him dance a ragged red jig across the docking berth floor before he collapsed. The other one threw his gun down and put his hands up.

Jonas was being shot at. Much of the fire was inaccurate, panicked. The last two gun-tramps were rattled by the violence of the attack, at how quickly things had gone wrong. Jonas kept moving. A few shots had tagged him, making him stagger, but he had invested a lot in his armour. He looked for the moment. He raised his laser pistols and fired one and then the other. The beams bathed the docking berth in a harsh red light. Both hit. Superheated armour exploded outwards and then cooked flesh did the same in plumes of red steam. The two gun-tramps hit the ground.

Ravindra threw herself at the closing ramp as the second crewman, shot by Orla, collapsed to the ground. She hit the ramp hard and scrambled into the interior of the airlock. The inner airlock door was just sliding shut. Ravindra threw herself through that as well, hitting the cargo bay floor just as hard. Alice was walking towards her bringing a shotgun to bear, a look of terror on her face. Ravindra fired a long, undisciplined, ragged burst at the girl. The rounds stitched a line in pinpricks of red across her target’s torso. Alice staggered back. The shotgun discharged into the air as Alice fell to the ground.

Ravindra rolled to her feet. She started moving quickly through the cargo bay, checking all around her, heading towards the stairs that led up to the crew quarters. In front of her the door to the stairwell slid open and Ji stepped out. Merkel had hold of him. Using him for cover. He was hunkered down tight behind the boy, an EM pistol pressed against Ji’s head. Ravindra brushed her fingers forward and switched the EM carbine to single shot.