Cain's Crusaders (34 page)

As Adam ran around the ship he noticed a large tank of acetylene gas standing near the central construction workbenches. The release for the gas was electronic – of course – as was the igniter draped over the tank. With his mind, Adam imaged the release value and commanded that it open, releasing the gas into the air. But now he reached a quandary. The inner wall to the hangar was directly in front of him, only about ten feet away. The tank was about thirty. Adam pressed himself against the wall and turned toward the work area. And then he began to concentrate. He’d seen Arieel do this before; all he had to do was envision what she had created.

McCarthy rounded the back of the
Phoenix
and spotted Adam standing in plain sight against the far wall. He stopped running and began to approach cautiously, the weapon still leveled at Adam’s chest. “Now you’re being reasonable,” he said. “There’s no need for either one of us to get hurt….”

McCarthy slowed his approach as he began to imagine a thin blue light between him and Adam. He frowned and cocked his head, squinting to see if what he was imagining was real or not.

Adam continued to concentrate, letting his face go limp and his eyes staring off into space. He could see the shield in his mind’s eye, and when he refocused on the space before him, he could see the image of McCarthy shimmering on the other side of a light blue aura.

Suddenly Nigel’s eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. “You right bloody bastard – you, too?”

Just then Adam lit the igniter above the gas tank, causing a tremendous explosion of heat and blue fire to envelope the inside of the hangar. McCarthy was blown to his right, impacting the side of the
Phoenix
with such force that it would be a miracle if he survived. Meanwhile, the effects of the blast spread out over the entire north end of the hangar, heading straight for Adam.

He fought with every ounce of his mental concentration to maintain the image of the shield, and when the concussion hit, it was like nothing he expected. The explosion shoved him hard against the metal wall of the hangar, the flame and searing heat only inches from his body. The inferno continued for what seemed like an eternity, with yellow and blue fire trailing off to his left and right, yet not penetrating beyond the shield.

Finally, it was over, and the shimmer blue shield recoiled back from his body. He was alive – and unharmed. But that couldn’t be said for this section of the hangar. It was a smoldering remnant of its former self, with debris piled against the sturdy bulk of the
Phoenix
and against the outer walls. The area where the acetylene tank had been was devoid of anything, except for blackened streaks on the metal flooring.

The life-saving shield of static electricity slowly faded away and Adam moved out into the center of the work area. He looked around quickly trying to find the medallion that he remember as last being held in his grasp, but no longer there. Then against the wall, he saw the broken and charred remains of the device. It was destroyed … at least was this one.

He heard moaning coming from near the
Phoenix
and immediately realized it had to be coming from McCarthy. Damn, he survived. Can’t anything kill this guy?

A pile of debris fell near the spaceship and a leg appeared, the clothing burned, the skin underneath red and bloody. Adam walked over and rifled through the pile until he found Nigel’s head. Except for a bad gash under his left eye and half the thin hair on his head missing, the big Englishman didn’t to be too badly injured. His beady blue eyes were glowering at Adam.

“You … you have it, too.” He managed to spit out through swollen lips.

“Yeah, but mine’s the Cadillac of the telepathy machines. Yours was an Edsel.”

McCarthy managed a painful laugh. “But I can mass produce the things. Can you?”

The thought sent Adam’s stomach into knots. That was definitely something that gave McCarthy the upper hand, even if he wouldn’t be around to guide it. His technicians knew.

Adam quickly pulled Nigel from the pile of debris and found a metal chain that had blown nearby. He wrapped it around Nigel and then placed a metal bolt through the links to keep it from coming undone. In Nigel’s injured condition, it should be enough to hold him. Adam now had to prepare for the blow back from the explosion. Surely McCarthy’s commandos had to have heard it.

He ran to the front of the
Phoenix
just as half a dozen armed men appeared at the hangar opening. They had their M4A1 carbines securely in battle ready stance as they approached. They also still had the flash rifles strapped across their backs.

Adam slipped down behind one of the big landing pads of the
Phoenix
and tried hard to remember what Trimen had said about how to turn a flash weapon into a bomb. That was it! Disconnect the fire control and discharge the power pack into the weapon. He closed his eyes and began to envision the inner workings of a Xan-fi flash rifle. He had used this weapon for years now and knew nearly everything about it. The images poured into his mind.

Within ten seconds, Adam could hear the every-increasing hums coming from the weapons. There were panicked voices as the commandos sought to understand what was happening. It only took a few more seconds for them to realize the sound was coming from their flash weapons. By then it was too late.

The force from six simultaneously exploding flash rifles was staggering, strong enough to slide the
Phoenix
away by around ten feet. Adam was protected behind the landing pad and took the short ride with the huge spacecraft.

Without waiting for confirmation that all the commandos at the hangar were dead, Adam sprinted from under the
Phoenix
and out of the hangar, heading for the living quarters. In his mind’s eyes, Adam knew seven commands had bit the dust outside the hangar. That still left six in the building with his teammates – including Sherri.

What would Nigel’s men do now that they’ve just heard a secondary – and more powerful explosion – than before? Would they simply execute Adam’s team and then head off the island?

With energy derived from panic and desperation, Adam ran for the shell-shaped building. There were more lights on now, something he had not done. And then he heard the voices. They were coming from above him, from one of the balconies on the third floor of the building.

Adam skidded to a stop and looked up. That’s when he saw Sherri, leaning over the railing and waving. She was smiling.

“Relax, Adam,” she called down to him. “We’ve got it under control up here.”

Just then Dawson and Riyad appeared behind her, cradling M4 rifles and manhandling a couple of McCarthy’s commandos to the edge of the deck. “Thanks for the distraction, Captain!” Dawson yelled down at him. “It was just what we needed to get the jump on these assholes.”

Adam bent over and placed his hands on his knees, and taking in several deep breaths. When he looked up, Dawson and Riyad were still smiling broadly, but Sherri’s smile had vanished. Even from that distance, he could see the pain in her eyes.

This would be the last straw.

Chapter 28

M
edical specialists were flown in from a system ten light years away to tend to McCarthy’s injuries, which turned out to be nothing more than a broken left leg, several cuts and bruises and a patch of third-degree burns on his left arm.
 
After surveying the effects of the explosion, Adam was amazed Nigel had survived at all, let alone as relatively unscathed as he had.

Eight days after the attack, McCarthy was cleared for travel and placed aboard the
Phoenix
for transport to Juir. From there, the Human diplomatic mission would take charge of him for transit back to Earth.

Already Adam and his team had received numerous CW links with Earth congratulating them on the capture of Nigel McCarthy. It seemed that the experts in the black rooms were anxious to get their hands on him, and to use their skills to extract that most-valuable of information the Englishman carried with him – the location of the Kracori homeworld. Planners within the Planetary Governing Authority were already drawing up rough strategies for the assault of Elision, having every confidence that attaining the information was only a matter of time.

In the meantime, Adam and his people went about preparing the body of Lee Schwartz from transport back to Earth as well. He was placed in a special cryogenic casket, and after a brief yet tearful ceremony was also placed aboard the
Phoenix
. In about a year’s time, Commander Lee Schwartz, U.S. Navy, would be home, to be buried at the fully-rebuilt Arlington Cemetery with full military honors.

As the team tried to get back to a somewhat normal routine, they received a message that a delegation from Formil would be arriving in a few days, ostensibly to present Adam with an award of some kind. He had had it up to his neck with awards and accolades, and after witnessing Sherri’s initial reaction to the news, he was ready to call the whole thing off. But then Kroekus informed them that he would be arriving for the ceremony, as well as the Human Ambassador, John Daulton.

Sherri bit her bottom lip and stormed off to her apartment, after agreeing with Adam that there was nothing he could do to stop it now. He was pretty sure she was up in her quarters, packing for Earth – for about the tenth time this month!

Chapter 29

M
ark Henderson had just about reached his breaking point; this was the third time in as many days that the killer Nigel McCarthy was asking to see him. For Henderson’s part, he couldn’t wait for their arrival at Juir so McCarthy could be transferred to a larger ship with hiberpods. Then they could place the arrogant Englishman in one of them and crank the cold-meter down to absolute zero. At least then he wouldn’t have to hear his uppity Baroque accent anymore. Some people may find the accent interesting and sophisticated. Not Mark Henderson. On one level, he equated it to that of a hillbilly drawl … just another funky way of talking.

McCarthy was locked away in one of the executive staterooms aboard the
Phoenix
, complete with a king-size bed, large grooming station, a small food processing center, along with all the DVD’s he could watch. Technically, he could exist in the room for the rest of his life – however long that may be. Once Henderson got him back to Earth, he was sure McCarthy’s life expectancy would be measured in days, if not hours.

Henderson didn’t fear McCarthy. Although he may be huge and well-trained, he still carried a cast on his broken left leg and a thick wrap around the burns on his arm. He had minor bruising of his ribcage, along with numerous other bandages where his cuts were healing. Overall, Nigel McCarthy was in no condition to take on a six-foot two, two-hundred nineteen pound former Army Ranger. So Henderson simply fingered in the security code on the door and entered without knocking.

Nigel McCarthy was seated on the stateroom’s solitary couch, a caramel-colored drink in his hand. He looked relaxed and seemingly confident … for some reason.

“Captain Henderson thanks for coming.” McCarthy greeted warmly. “There’s a drink ready for you on the counter.”

“I’ll pass,” Henderson said, annoyed that McCarthy was acting as if he was the host, rather than the prisoner. “What do you want
this
time? It looks like you’ve made yourself right at home.”

“C’mon, mate, sit down. We have a lot of time to kill. What’s the harm in passing it with a little conversation?”

“Nothing … mate. It’s just that you don’t have anything I want to hear.”

“Oh, but I think I do.”

Henderson looked over at the drink sitting on the counter to his right and thought what the hell? It had been three days since they’d left Pyrum-3 and in all that time Henderson had not had a single sip of alcohol.

He walked over the counter, scooped up the glass and then sat down in one of the chairs at the small table affixed to the left-side bulkhead. “So what do you think I would want to hear out of your traitorous mouth, you limey bastard.”
There, that should let him know what I think of him.

McCarthy smiled and took a long swig of his drink. “Now, now, Captain Henderson, let’s try to be cordial.”

“Why should I? You have such a long record of screwing over your own people – including killing my friend Lee Schwartz – you don’t even deserve to be spit on. I wouldn’t want to insult my spit by wasting it on you.”

“Fair enough, but I believe your impression of me may change once we’ve had our little talk.”

Henderson raised his eyebrows and sent a wry smile back toward McCarthy. “That would take a fucking miracle.”

McCarthy nodded. “Well, let’s see if this qualifies. You are aware that I know the location of the Kracori homeworld, a planet called Elision, don’t you?”

“Of course; everyone does. And no matter how much you want to keep it a secret, the people back on Earth will be able to pull it out of you. In fact,” Henderson said, smiling more broadly, “I’d love to give them a hand. And I’d do it for free.”

“You won’t have, Captain. I’m willing to give it to you right now, voluntarily.”

Henderson tried to hide his shock. He knew McCarthy was probably playing a game with him, and if he really was going to give him the coordinates, it would more-than-likely be in exchange for his freedom.

“Okay, go ahead. Give it to me.”

“Come now, mate, we’re both a couple of smart guys. You know I want something in return.”

“Yeah, your freedom; it didn’t take a genius to figure that one out. So, let’s see, I just let you go and say I did it in exchange for the coordinates. I think the powers back on Earth would say thanks a lot, but now, Mr. Henderson, you’re in a heap of trouble for letting McCarthy go. Like I said, they’re going to get the information out of you anyway, whether you want to give it up voluntarily or not. And then they’ll still have
you
. They’d be really pissed off if I let you go, and spoiled all their fun with executing you a billion times over.”

“You are a very intelligent person, Captain – I commend you. You have a quick mind and can analyze a situation at a moment’s notice. That’s what made you such a good officer. You know Cain was enlisted before he was given a field commission. He’s no more officer material than, well this glass I’m holding. You should have been the ranking officer of
The Crusaders
.” Still holding his glass, McCarthy made a half-quotation-mark gesture with his free hand around the term
The Crusaders.

“Cain’s paid his dues. He’s been through a lot. Besides, he caught you, didn’t he?”

“He had help. Did you know he has the same powers as that Formilian woman, the one who can control electronic devices?”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s true. How else do you think he was able to capture me and defeat nearly all of my best commandos virtually single-handed? He has the power; they gave it to him as a reward for rescuing their princess, or whatever she is to them.”

“Then good for him.”

“Yes, but Captain, why hasn’t he offered this power to the rest of his team? Would that be something that would help all of you to be a more efficient fighting force? It’s because he wanted to keep it for himself, so he would be superior, even to you.”

“So what?” Henderson knew what McCarthy was trying to do, to turn him against Cain. It was insulting to Henderson that McCarthy would try such an obvious ploy on him. “Also, you’re not sure he won’t give us the same powers later on. He was a little busy after all trying to stop your fucking commandos from killing us all.”

“That’s true, but we’re getting a little off the subject.”

“I didn’t start this.”

“No you didn’t, but just let me draw you a scenario.” McCarthy emptied his glass and then took a deep breath. He looked Henderson straight in the eye and began: “Here’s my proposal: I give you the coordinates to Elision, then you doctor the ship’s log to indicate that the
Phoenix
was attacked by Kracori. They’ve already tried to kill me once over the past three months, and Cain knows this. He’ll believe they tracked me down again and attacked. You then take a shuttle off the ship and blow it up. I, in the meantime, will be in another shuttle heading in the opposite direction. You just say I was killed when the ship blew up.”

“Sounds great, McCarthy, let’s do it! That’s the best fucking plan I’ve ever heard.” Henderson said, mockingly. “Just one thing: there are about a dozen holes in your plan.”

“You mean the dozen other people aboard the ship?”

“For starters.”

“Well, Captain Henderson, let’s carry this out a little further. As the Kracori are attacking, I give you the coordinates, just so the bloody bastards will have to pay for killing me. You’re then the only person in the galaxy who knows the location of Elision, outside of the Kracori and the Klin, of course. You do realize that this information is the most valuable in the entire galaxy? Not only does Earth want to learn the location of the Kracori homeworld, but so do the Juireans. Either party would pay a frigging fortune for the information you will have.”

Henderson hesitated slightly before responding. He hadn’t thought about getting money for the information – maybe he should have. And McCarthy was right: the location on the Kracori homeworld was one of the most-sought after bits of information in the galaxy. “I can see selling the information to the Juireans – after all, the Kracori did destroy Juir. But I couldn’t really sell the information to the people back on Earth. That would make me out to be a royal asshole, kinda like you.”

“No, but you could certainly expect a reward, a finder’s fee if you will. Considering the value of this information, what do you think ten-percent, or even twenty-percent as a reward would come to? Millions … billions? Not only that, but think of the fame that will follow you. You would have options, Captain. Sell the information to the Juireans for Expansion credits and continue to live out here among the aliens – but on a planet of your own! Or return to Earth for a ticker-tape parade down Broadway, plus more money than you could ever spend in a dozen lifetimes.”

“Why don’t you negotiate something like that for yourself, McCarthy? Save all the enhanced-interrogation experts all the trouble.”

McCarthy nodded. “I could possibly do that. Maybe even negotiate to save my life. But then I’d have to go into hiding. You do realize that my name now carries with it a reputation even worse than Hitler’s? I’m an accomplice in the deaths of over a billion of my fellow Humans. For many, I’m considered even worst that the Klin, the Kracori and the Juireans combined. I betrayed my
own
people. No, Captain Henderson, I don’t think that is anyway to live. And let’s face the truth; your enhanced interrogators would probably get off on pulling this information out of me by the cruelest means possible. I’m sure there would be a very strong argument presented against granting me any kind of concession for my information. It just seems like such a waste letting this information go for free….”

Henderson was feeling sweaty and hot. His heart was pounding and the chair he was sitting in suddenly seemed very uncomfortable. Was he actually considering doing what McCarthy wanted? What kind of person did that make him? The idea of taking the information in exchange for McCarthy’s freedom seemed straight-forward enough; he had something of value he was willing to trade for his life. And why shouldn’t Henderson then benefit for giving the information to the Earth? Even though the authorities wanted McCarthy so they could make him pay for his crimes, the information he carried was much more important than revenge for crimes committed over ten years ago.

No, the only thing mucking up the whole plan was
Jamal Dawson
. He was the only other Human aboard the ship carrying McCarthy. The rest of the crew consisted of four aliens of some race he’d forgotten the name of who were piloting the ship, along with half-a-dozen of the gray Jakrean creatures, those bug-eyed things what were – or had been – the representation of all alien visitors to Earth in nearly every science fiction movie or abduction account in the past. Henderson had already proven it to himself – that like nearly all of his kind – alien life didn’t hold much worth. He’d already killed dozens since joining the
Crusaders
, even though he had been expecting to kill more when he’d mustered out to the galaxy five years before.

While still attached to the Human forces in the Expansion, he had dreamed of exciting space battles and laser sword-fights, the kind of which his childhood fantasies had been based. He had found no such thing. It was only after he joined Cain’s group that he saw any real action at all. But even that was limited and constrained.