The Dark Defiance Page 7

  “It’s more than that,” Tommy answered. “Chelak, was Dheema the only language in use at the time, or was Kholarii still in use?”

  “It was. Why?”

  “Because only half of the inscriptions are in Dheema. The rest must be translations into Kholarii. This place was a warning to them, after all.”

  “Still, nobody can decipher it after all these centuries.” Chelak waved a dismissive hand at the wall. “As useless to you as all of those inscriptions on the ruins above. No doubt, if you could bring an ancient Kholarii here, he could read them for you but, unless you possess a time machine, that is unlikely…”

  Tommy had to force himself to take a deep breath and bite off his impatient response. Chelak lived on a planet, in an entire region of space, which had used one language for thousands of years. What they were seeing wouldn’t be obvious to him. “Chelak, the inscriptions are matched – one set of Dheema, one set of Kholarii. This,” he indicated the wall, “is our Rosetta Stone.”

  The name had meant nothing to Chelak, but Harry turned towards them at the sound of the familiar artifact at the end of a long, unintelligible conversation. “Something you want to share with the rest of the class, Tommy?”

  “Dheema.” Tommy pointed to the upper row. “Kholarii.” He shifted his aim down to the second row. “Captain, we can translate the ruins if I can have some time to work on this. We need to get images of the whole thing, down here as well as topside.”

  “Who has cameras?” Harry asked. Terry and Tommy raised their hands.

  “Let’s get to work; I want us off this planet before anything else nasty happens to us. The job down here is pretty straightforward. Terry, get a series of shots that go all the way around. Make sure you can read the glyphs in each shot. We can put it all together when we get back to the Völund. Tommy, you should probably take the shots topside: you’ll have a better idea of what you’re looking for up there than any of us.” Harry turned for the stairs.

  “I want us moving in two hours.”

  The Völund

  In orbit around Khola

  Jan fought to control her breathing as she crouched against the bulkhead. The main companionway was just around the corner to her right. She felt the selector lever with her thumb, confirming that the MP-5 was set to fire three-round bursts. She almost jumped out of her skin as someone appeared at her side. It was Max D’Autrive, one of the three engineering assistants who worked for Keira. He held his own MP-5, an excellent weapon for shipboard fighting.

  An immensely heavy man, Max was sweating profusely but he was determined not to lose without a fight. He was left-handed, making him a better choice for support at this corner. Danraj had paired the crew into fighting teams, selecting opposing hands as much as possible.

  Jan moved away from the bulkhead, giving Max room to move up to the corner. He nodded his readiness and she counted down from three on her fingers. As the last finger dropped, she clutched her weapon as Max leaned around the corner to fire down the companionway. Jan darted past him, moving to the far side of the wide hall to allow her partner a clear field of fire.

  She raced halfway to the far end, ignoring the return fire from a weapon that was blindly aimed around the corner. Max’s covering fire was obviously effective. She stopped, pulling out a flash-bang. She yanked the pin free and almost threw it before catching herself with a curse. Bloody things, who puts two pins on a grenade? She pulled the secondary safety pin and threw. She had judged the angle correctly. The flash-bang bounced off of the companionway wall and clattered down the left-hand passage where her opponents were sheltering.

  A blast shook the corridor and she raced to the end, firing at the stunned forms around the corner. She was surrounded by the smell of gunpowder.

  “Excellent!” Danraj exclaimed. He grinned at her. “Absolutely textbook, Jan. Good teamwork, you two.” He turned an approving grin on Max who came up behind them. “You’re officially my prize pupils!”

  “As for you three,” he continued, turning a look of amusement on Carol, Doc Fredo and Ray Roosa, one of the deck officers, “If you find yourself firing blind around a corner, it usually means your position isn’t very good.” He pointed to the corner behind them. “You should have fallen back to the next corner. Giving ground doesn’t necessarily mean you’re losing. Had you been back there, you would have been unaffected by the flash-bang and you would have been able to pick Jan off when she was rushing this position.”

  “We were going to do that, but…” Doc Fredo trailed off.

  “But someone wouldn’t fall back?” Danraj asked. He looked keenly at Ray, who glared back at him. “Mr. Roosa, I know you’ve been in a fight with the Chinese before but you can’t let your anger do your thinking for you.” It was common knowledge that Ray’s ship had taken a serious pounding when the U.S. and Chinese fleets had nearly started a global war in the South China Sea. “Stay cool, think it through and kill your enemy. If falling back pulls them into a trap, then you fall back.”

  Ray looked sullen but didn’t argue. Jan was surprised to see Danny let it go, until she thought it through. Carol probably tried to pull them back as the senior member of their team and Ray wouldn’t go. Danny’s probably trying to avoid drawing attention to that. She’s going to have to tune him in later, I suppose.

  “Right,” Danraj clapped his hands together. “Good evolution. Re-load whatever blanks you fired off, and head back to the lounge. Send me teams three and four; don’t forget to give them your vests along with the weapons.”

  Khola

  The Central Continental Cloud Forest

  “So, what do we do with him,” Ken nodded over his shoulder at the dead sniper.

  “We can hardly leave him lying around here, someone will find him sooner or later and come asking us questions.” Harry looked through a gap in the rubble to where the edge of the ravine could be seen. “We could drop him in there…”

  “Not if he has a tracker on his body,” Liam said firmly. “We don’t want the Chinese finding him either. They’re just as likely to come asking us questions and we probably have our own operators, just like him, on other worlds. We don’t want to start a secret war out here.”

  “True enough,” Harry said meditatively. “I do like the idea of keeping them in the dark. Let ‘em wonder what happened to their man.” He turned to Tommy. “Do you think our friend here might know of a good way to dispose of a body? He seems to know the kind of folk that dispose of bodies…”

  “Chelak, do you know of a way for us to make this soldier disappear? We think he may have a tracking device implanted on his body, and we would like to keep his superiors from learning his fate.”

  The driver seemed unsurprised by the question. “I knew you and Kobrak were going to get along,” he laughed. “If we follow the road that brought us to that path,” he indicated the direction from which they had arrived, “it will take us very close to the caldera.”

  “Caldera?”

  “Yes, we are on the side of a volcano. It occasionally releases some lava but it always flows down the far side. I have been up to the rim many times, mostly ‘delivering packages’ for Kobrak.” He shrugged.

  After a quick hike back down the path, an inspection of the van (which yielded a one-pound charge of plastic explosives) and a twenty-minute drive, the group found themselves standing at the edge of a live volcano. The dead sniper lay at the edge, his hands crossed over his chest.

  “Should someone say something?” Bernie asked.

  “I’m hungry?” Kale volunteered. No one felt like laughing. “Looks like the pit of fire for you, buddy.” He crouched down. “I met him – he was a damn good shot,” he said softly. “I’m just glad he was off his game today.”

  “Amen,” Ken agreed fervently.

  Kale gave the body a push.

  Khola

  The docks

  They were back where they had started. The crowds in the fish market flowed past the right side of the van while Tommy used o
ne of the credit chips to settle the account with Chelak. The driver had pulled up tight against the end of the pedway leading to the lighter. Nobody wanted a repeat of the angry mob from the morning drive. They would simply step out the left side of the vehicle, straight onto the pedway.

  “Don’t want to bring the mood down,” Kale drawled, “but we got a problem with our exit strategy.” As faces turned to him, he nodded in the direction of the lighter.

  Tommy looked out the window. Through the wet windows and a couple hundred meters of light rain, he could make out five figures standing under the tail of the lighter. Two figures were kneeling in front of them.

  “Well, well,” Liam was looking through a monocular at the scene. “Tommy, see if Chelak can identify our new friends for us, will you?” He turned to hand his scope to the driver but Chelak was already gazing at the monitor on his central console. He had repositioned one of the exterior view cameras. The detail was impressive.

  “Thomas, that’s Saramach. What would he be doing here? If he thought that his human friend had killed you, why would he hang around here?”

  “A very good question.” Thomas switched to English. “That’s Saramach, Kobrak’s main rival. If he’s here, then it may be that the sniper was supposed to leave the captain alive.”

  “What the hell for?” Kale demanded, still gazing out the window.

  “If he wanted the captain alive,” Bernie murmured, “then he probably wants to force him into a business relationship, one where our side gets little or no room for profit.” He grunted, reminding everyone of his wound – no sense in wasting the limelight. “He wouldn’t mind if the Chinese make us a bit weaker, but he probably wouldn’t approve of them eliminating potential customers. Business is business, and the Chinese would have to play ball if they want to deal with him.”

  “Makes sense,” Harry admitted grudgingly. “So what do we do about it? We can’t attack outright, they have Jim and Willie.”

  “Ken has the Stoner,” Liam offered. “At this distance, he should be able to get at least two of them before they can react.”

  “Which means one of us needs to get closer and use a handgun.” Harry said with an air of finality. “They think I’m alone.” He turned to face the landing party. “Liam, give me an extra Glock.” He took the handgun from Liam, checked the magazine, chambered a round and gingerly slid it down the back of his tunic collar.

  He looked up at Tommy for a few moments. “If he means to force me into a deal,” he began, “then he would have left me my translator. Tommy, you better return to the land of the living and join me.”

  Liam frowned. “How would they have any way of knowing which one was the translator?” He demanded. “Pure bloody guesswork? It’s an unnecessary risk. Just shoot the buggers like we planned.”

  “The sniper would have been told to spare the human that was talking with Chelak,” Tommy cut in. “Easy enough for a highly-trained operator to figure that out. The captain’s right, this will work better if I go with him. Saramach will tell us more if he thinks he’s cock o’ the walk.”

  “Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is a debate,” Harry’s voice held an edge. “Tommy’s on the payroll. I’m taking him with me.” His face was stone as he gazed at Liam. “Ken, get ready. We’ll take out the four guards first. If we can take their boss alive, we will. If you hear me say ‘counter proposal’ or ‘we won’t be doing business’, start killing. Someone give Tommy a headset and a gun.”

  “Bernie, you need to move back here with Kale. I need the floor by your feet.” Ken hefted his Stoner. The weapon looked like it had started out life as an M-16 but then started taking steroids. The barrel was long and heavy. The 7.62mm round gave it a one-inch grouping at a hundred meters.

  Ken lay on the floor, his body angled under the front seat and the rifle aimed towards the area where his targets would become visible when the side door slid up. “I’m ready.”

  “Good,” Harry answered. “They’ve been watching us. Any more delay and they’re bound to get twitchy.”

  Chelak opened the left side door and Harry scrambled out with Tommy, careful not to dislodge the weapons wedged against the back of their necks. They jogged along, looking over their shoulders as if expecting an attack at any moment. As they reached the intersection, leading right and left to two other landing pads, Harry looked up, grabbing Tommy’s shoulder and stopping as if in surprise.

  “Good,” Ken’s voice appeared in their earpieces. “Make them think you’re surprised to see them – nice touch. We’re gonna wipe those smug smiles off their faces in a few seconds.” He shifted his aim. “Harry, the one on the far left, your left, still has his shiny new Chinese assault rifle on safe. Start with the guy between him and Saramach.”

  They came to a stop ten feet away from the five aliens and off to the left, giving Ken a line of sight to each opponent. Harry reached out his left hand in a placating gesture as he pulled his sidearm from its leg holster, dropping it with a splash on the cracked, wet pavement of the landing pad. He raised his hands and put them behind his head.

  Tommy followed suit. If this goes pear-shaped, will I have the stones to kill one of them? His right hand sought the grip of the Glock in his shirt collar, curling around it. It seemed so absurdly simple. He felt he could easily kill both of the closer guards. And why not? He looked down at where Jim and Willie knelt on the wet tarmac. They looked exhausted. Would I even feel remorse if I killed them to save our own lads?

  He felt the urge to rescue Willie and return the favor, done so long ago. This man had risked his life to help rescue Tommy from a meth lab in East London’s infamous ‘Sector One’. Willie had been part of Liam’s unit and, when Liam had returned from a year of captivity, that unit had volunteered to help him rescue Tommy from captivity.

  “By now,” Saramach began with a sneer, “you will be aware of how dangerous it is to defy me. You have lost many people today. I have lost three, but I can easily replace them.” He grinned. “You have more difficulty, I think, replacing lost crew members.”

  “I suppose you will keep your human friend busy for the foreseeable future.” Tommy translated Harry’s reply. “Why did you kill my crewmen?”

  “You and I will do business,” Saramach stated with simple confidence. “But you will not empty my pockets like you did with Kobrak. You will not dictate terms to me with your fighters pointing weapons at my head.”

  “Enough of this bullshit,” Harry sounded surprisingly calm. “We won’t be doing business.” He pulled the pistol out and pointed it at the surprised face of the guard standing to Saramach’s right. He squeezed the trigger and the guard’s face disintegrated almost at the same time as the guard on Saramach’s far left pitched backwards.

  A second pistol shot killed the guard who tried, too late, to find the safety lever on his unfamiliar weapon. He fell in tandem with the guard to Saramach’s immediate left. He wasn’t shot by Harry.

  Tommy looked down in surprise at the pistol in his hand. A light wisp of smoke curled out of the barrel, twitching in the rain. I don’t even remember pulling it out, he thought. Shouldn’t I feel bad? I just killed someone. Someone who could easily pass for human on Earth – a little odd looking but… His thoughts trailed off as he watched Willie collect the loose weapons from among the guards, clearing the breaches and putting the safeties on before throwing them on the ramp of the lighter. The Scotsman spared him an approving nod as he worked.

  “Tommy,” Harry’s voice called him back to the matter at hand. “We need to talk with this fine gentleman. I need you back on the job for a few minutes.”

  Tommy looked at Saramach’s horrified face. Typical bloody bully. Take away his power and watch him squirm. Kobrak’s rival had thought he held the better hand. “We won’t be doing business with you.”

  “Dammit, you tell him only what I tell him, you got that?” Harry was still hyped up from the shooting, but he was probably also a little tired of Tommy’s independent conversatio
ns with the locals.

  “I just translated your earlier refusal to deal with him.” Get off my back, you bloody oik.

  Harry sighed, nodding acknowledgement. “Alright, tell him that we have a deal with Kobrak. If he gets in the way of that, we’ll put our ship in orbit around Ghela and pound the shit out of his harvesting platforms.”

  Tommy translated, feeling disgust at the pathetic look of gratitude on Saramach’s face as he realized he wasn’t going to be killed. “Go!” he waved their erstwhile captor off. He watched him stop in confusion when he noticed the approaching shore party, still alive.

  The crewmen flowed around the stunned creature. Ken and Terry split apart to walk on either side. Kale, walking behind them, slammed into the hapless male, knocking him to the ground. “Oops,” he said casually as he walked away.

  The flight back up to the Völund was a noisy one as the shore party exchanged stories with Jim and Willie. Both sides had their stories to tell and each crew member competed for a chance to tell their part.

  Liam sat back, not engaging in the conversation. He looked across to the other side where his son sat. He had watched Tommy kill someone. It was for the right reasons; Liam had no doubts on that score, but killing a person changed you. It didn’t matter if the cause was a good one.

  Taking a life always changed you.

  The Völund

  In orbit around Khola

  Carol was just on her way to the forward elevator when a dark form leaned around the corner of the companionway, an assault rifle aimed at her chest. This time, there was no blank-firing attachment. The yellow insert was designed to help capture the gas from a blank round, allowing the breach to cycle properly. The weapon pointed at her chest was definitely not configured for training.

  “Clear,” Terry called out. He stood up from his firing position and walked forward, followed by the rest of the landing party. Harry was carrying his Glock 9mm in his right hand, his finger near the trigger.

  “Carol, why does my ship smell like a firefight?” He kept glancing past her, eyes constantly moving. “Is everything secure up here?”