The Orion Deception (8 page)

Chapter

Three

~

The shuttle touched down gently in the parking lot of an old run down pub in the middle of Nowhere, Florida. A rickety neon sign swayed from a chain,
The Swampwater Grill. 
They were in a small town called Astor, located at the south end of Lake George, roughly in the middle of the State of Florida. It was a backwater town, one that Heck had been to only once as young man; it was unlikely that anyone would simply guess he would come here.

He exhaled deeply as the shuttle settled onto the ground in the vacant lot. All of the main flying lights were off, but Heck could see insects hovering in the dim amber-colored ground lights that illuminated the parking lot. He looked out at the scene before him through the shuttle's windshield; the old building was just as he remembered it. It was three stories, unusually tall for Florida, and it had that Old South feel to it. It was sided with black boards that were faded and weather worn in contrast to its sleek, gray, modern hurricane shutters. The oily black waters of Saint John's River glistened in the moonlight beyond the pub.

"You!" he said to the cowering man sitting near Lainne. "What's your name?"

"Micheal Forester, sir," the man gulped. Something was strange about him to the ex-law officer. But Heck hadn't had time to ponder it. He was suspicious of the man simply for the fact that he was on the same shuttle as the government agents who were trying to kill or capture him.

"What are you doing here, Forester?" he asked as the man approached.

"Uh, g-going to Tampa to visit my sister. Sir." Heck scrutinized the man closely. He ordered the man to stand still while he frisked him. Finding nothing of interest he returned his attention to the task at hand.

"Mr. Forester, help that injured woman up and take her downstairs. When we are out of sight, you can call for an ambulance; you might just get one after a while." The man, middle-aged and dressed in a business suit, nodded hastily and did as he was told. The woman was beginning to wake up now. Lainne had been able to get the woman's wounds to close up during flight with some of the wound-bonding cream in the shuttle's first aid kit. The cream would not heal the wound completely but it was very good at sealing lacerations and keeping them from bleeding.

A hatch on the side of the shuttle opened slowly and a staircase dropped to the ground below. Once again, Heck cursed the Florida humidity and bugs as the warm outside air replaced the cool climate-controlled atmosphere of the shuttle. The balding man put the semi-conscious woman's arm around his shoulder and stepped out of the hatch into the humid Florida night.

"I would caution you against trusting that man, Mr. Thomas. He does not fit in here," offered the pilot. “I do not know what his purpose on this shuttle is.”

"I'll keep my own council, thanks." Heck scanned their surroundings from his vantage point inside the shuttlecraft but did not see any potential threats. Still, he knew they could not stay long.

"What now, Mr. Thomas?" asked the young pilot as he powered down all shuttle systems. The craft was now completely dark and the Florida humidity fell over them like a wave with the outer hatch opened. Heck pushed the prisoner forward and out into the night with his hands bound behind him and his legs tied together with a strap just long enough for him to shuffle-walk. "I have done as you asked and followed your plan, for what that was worth." 

"Now, you forget about me. At least for a little while," said Heck, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. It was very quiet here. There was one dim, old-fashioned streetlight that flickered at the entrance to the ground vehicle parking lot. The road, Highway 40, was empty. In its heyday Highway 40 was a busy highway that connected the west and east sides of the state, running through some very rural areas. But Astor was always a small town, and when people began to populate space stations, drifts and planetary colonies, Earth development slowed to a halt. Rural communities like this one just stayed rural.

"Not likely, Mr. Thomas," returned the pilot, an edge in his voice as he followed Heck down the stairs. "I am coming with you."

Heck ignored the man as he prodded his prisoner toward the empty road at the far end of the parking lot. Lainne trailed along behind Heck and the prisoner, holding each gun as though it were a live snake. "I think you know that I'm not a man to cross, Soldier."

"And I think 
you 
will find your notions about me are ill-conceived." Heck stopped suddenly and glared at the man. The pilot continued. "I am neither a Soldier of the Crescent Moon, nor a Muslim. And I am 
not 
a pilot for the Florida government."

"I don't care," replied the ex-lawman, exasperated.

"You may call me Gelad Benin. I am an Israeli government operative and he
 
is
my
prisoner," said the pilot, pointing at the silent but mean-looking captive.

"Like hell he is," growled Heck, turning to leave.

"You do not want to fight me, Mr. Thomas. You will find that I can be much more valuable to your cause when I am on your side."

"Why should I give a damn about you or whatever government you claim to work for?"

"Because I will hunt you down, dog your every move, and interfere with your plans until I have my prisoner. Or until you are dead."

"Don't threaten me, boy," growled Heck, whirling around with an angry glare.

"You do not want me in your shadow, Mr. Thomas," returned the man, a deadly glare in his eyes.

"Uh, Heck? He seems capable enough. Why can't he just come with us?" asked Lainne, hoping the two would not start fighting right there.

"Because-" Heck began, but he was interrupted by an unexpected commotion. The seemingly innocent Mr. Forester suddenly shot and killed the injured, and unarmed, woman. As Forester spun around to fire at Heck, the ex-lawman shoved Lainne down and spun his prisoner around in front of him in one smooth move. Gelad Benin flattened himself to the ground next to the shuttle stairs and produced a sleek weapon that the ex-lawman recognized instantly.

Before Heck could return fire a pair of dull
thuds,
not unlike the sound of a knuckle quietly rapping on a wooden door,
sounded from the area of Gelad Benin. Forrester simply collapsed to the ground, his knees suddenly giving way beneath him and a stream of blood flowed from an opening in his head.

Only one pistol in the System sounded like the one that Gelad was using right now, the Raptor Star. And the only people he knew of that used that specific weapon were members of the Israeli Special Police. The Raptor was a highly sophisticated weapon that used a tiny computer capable of analyzing the DNA of whoever was holding it to an onboard sample of authorized users. Only the proper owner of a Raptor could use one, and Raptor only made them for the Israeli Special Police.

"Hell," he whispered. He knew now that the man was probably telling the truth about his background. It was unlikely that someone could kill an ISP officer then take the weapon and reprogram its highly protected and encrypted onboard computer. It was a technology that was developed by the Israelis and used by no one else in the System.

"That was unwise, Mr. Thomas," said Gelad as he rose to his feet. "That man probably wanted our prisoner dead more than he wanted you dead."

"Fine," said Heck, angrily acknowledging the Israeli's logic. It was a stupid move and Heck knew it. It seemed that if the man was in fact an Israeli operative he would prove useful, to a point. "You can come along and you can have 
this," 
he said with an angry shove to the stoic prisoner. "When I'm done with him."

Heck tied the strangely silent prisoner to the hatch of the shuttlecraft and ordered Lainne to guard him. Heck and Gelad agreed that they should each exchange clothes with one of the dead men. Then they dragged the bodies of the dead agents down to the dock behind 
Swampwater
 
Grill
and disappeared from Lainne's sight, leaving her alone with the intimidating prisoner.

The prisoner was securely bound to the steel door of the shuttlecraft, but Lainne did not like the way the man stared at her. His eyes were dark and cold, seeming more black than brown. His hair was closely cropped to his head, leaving just a layer of fuzz, and tiny tattoos of adorned the back of his neck. His facial features were chiseled and square looking and his dark countenance contrasted starkly with his expensive suit and his meticulous appearance.

Lainne tried her best to be strong and grim faced, but she found herself looking away from the prisoner every time he looked into her eyes; his triumphant smirk lingered in her mind, painfully reminding her of her inability to handle conflict. She contented herself with brief, stern glances at the prisoner and a meaningful display of her twin pistols.

As Lainne gave the man her best intimidating glare, his grim demeanor softened for a moment, then he burst out in mocking laughter at her. Something snapped in Lainne then and she slapped the man on the side of the head with a pistol barrel in pure anger. Her own reaction shocked her and for a moment she was proud of herself, it was something Lainne Connor would never do. But the man didn't stop laughing however, and that only made the woman madder.

"You bastard!" she snarled, raising the weapon as though she were planning to strike him again. "What did you do with my brother? I know you were involved, I saw you snooping around!"

"Lainne," barked Heck, interrupting her interrogation. The sound of his voice as he crossed the parking lot toward her snapped her from her anger and she nearly jumped, earning another snicker from the prisoner. “What are you doing?”

“I was asking him about-”

“Don't,” he said as he reached her side. He gently escorted the woman further away from the prisoner. "Keep your distance from him. You can shoot him just as easily from ten feet away as you can from two feet away."

"Wait a minute!" she exclaimed. "Why are you wearing those clothes? Where are the bodies?"

"We fed the gators," replied the ex-lawman simply. "Now it's your turn."

Lainne gasped and looked horrified. "You - you can't be serious!"

Gelad laughed at the woman's discomfort and, pointing to the remaining corpse, he said, "Miss, I believe he wants you to feed 
her
 to the alligators."

Lainne was at first relieved that she had just misinterpreted the ex-lawman's humor, then she was reviled by what he had just told her to do. She didn't like it, but she knew that Heck was too much of a pro not to have a reason.

"Lainne, take off your clothes," ordered Heck.

"I beg your pardon!" she demanded angrily, suddenly unsure of her judgment in hiring Heck Thomas. The prisoner snickered again. "I will not!"

"Take your clothes off, switch them with hers."

"I will not-" she began to protest.

"You will," he said harshly, grabbing her arm. "We don't have much time, Lainne. The authorities will figure out very soon where this craft dropped off the map. They will figure out where we are and they will come with a company of Commonwealth Marines. I don't intend to be here when that happens. If you'd like to, then stick around and keep her company."

Lainne watched fearfully as Heck stalked away from her, leaving her with the corpse and the prisoner. He joined Gelad at the rear of the shuttle where the two were out of earshot of the prisoner and they began to converse softly.

Lainne glanced at the prisoner and scowled; his dark eyes seemed to mock her, telling her she wasn't strong enough to do what was asked of her. She looked away, ashamed. All her life her brother had been there to help her through the tough spots, but now she was alone. Alone and facing a daunting task. She knew inside that changing clothes with a corpse wasn't really the thing that was bothering her most, it was running away. She was now running away from the security of her old life and running toward the unknown. 

She was on the verge of running into the shuttle and finding a corner to cry in when a glance from Heck changed everything. For some reason his hard eyes and solid countenance seemed unshakable despite the chaos. And it was then that she realized that there was, in fact, some warmth in there lying beneath the surface. He was struggling to come to terms with his loss, like her, only this man seemed to find a way to shut the chaos out and keep his feet steady. She let out a deep breath, believing that he would not allow her to come to any harm. And believing that he was, perhaps, looking for some stability to hang onto also.

She would try her best to give it to him.

With a strength born of desperation, Lainne dragged the corpse of the dead woman down to the inn, gagging at the gurgling sounds the corpse's abdomen made when she moved it. It was no easy feat, the dead weight of the woman was exceedingly difficult to move and Lainne was sweating profusely in the humidity, the cool dead skin felt repulsive to her own soft hands. With a small measure of privacy offered by the old buildings she changed clothes with the corpse. Afterward, she pulled the corpse to the edge and rolled it into the oily waters of the river. The body made a slurping splash and half-floated in the slow moving water. She watched the body and wondered for a moment why the others had done this and why the other bodies were nowhere in sight. Was it some kind of joke?