Read The Forbidden Army Page 40


  Zurra saw a heretic fleeing from the carnage and took him down with his Triple-One, hearing the chamber clicking in vain after only getting off a few shots. He tossed the gun over the edge of the bridge, its purpose served.

  Three heretics jumped into the second SHIPR and turned it around to head towards Catalina. The new gunships gained altitude and each fired another rocket. One of the rockets detonated in midair above Zurra’s head, throwing him violently to the ground. The other landed right next to the fleeing SHIPR, causing it to cartwheel high into the air and over the edge of the bridge.

  Zurra was breathing heavily, pressing his okka rifle tight to his chest and looking around in desperation for an escape route. He saw further along and across the width of the bridge Dakkal and two of the surviving heretics scaling a service ladder down to the second deck, apparently out of view of the gunships, which were now all three scouring the top deck for additional threats. A lone heretic tried to make a break for Dakkal but was cut in three by the violent stream of gunfire.

  “Frusrand guide my path,” Zurra whispered under his breath and rose, realizing that at least one if not all of the gunships would see him. He grabbed the concrete barrier and hurled himself over it, holding onto the top with one hand. There was a gap in the metal crossbeams and he aimed his body through it like a missile. Zurra landed roughly on his back, feeling pain shoot through his muscles, but for now, he was safe.

  He looked up and saw the last heretic in Dakkal’s detail pass on the far side of the bridge down the service ladder. Zurra cocked his okka rifle and took aim, firing a single needle in his enemy’s direction.

  One needle was all it took. The barb struck the krokator in the shoulder and caused him to cry out in pain, lose his grip and vanish from view.

  “Two to go,” Zurra muttered under his breath and gave chase across the deck, arriving at the service ladder. Peering down, he could see no sign of Dakkal.

  Nevertheless, he slung his rifle back over his shoulder and started climbing down the obscured ladder. It was time to end this.

  #

  “President Paine has a few words to say before we retire into the summit,” Godford announced to the assorted crowd and waited for the applause to end before stepping back.

  Paine stepped forward to the podium and smiled like always. “Ladies and gentlemen, humans and otherwise, and all friends, thank you for joining me tonight. It is encouraging to see this kind of solidarity in these dark times.” He adjusted his bowtie. “I had a friend, from when I was Prime Minister on a world here in the Alliance called Aurora, who gave me sound advice. He told me that I should never judge a man based on his manner, only on his actions. Tonight, I ask myself: what is more important, our manner, or our actions?”

  Perry consulted his watch. He was going to have to excuse himself soon in order to make the transport. Still, his mind couldn’t help but dwell on the news Barkley had given him. Gresham and Zurra had killed Vosen and were coming. Hopefully Dakkal had taken care of them on the bridge.

  “We are faced with what may be the most significant threat to the security of the galaxy we have encountered since the League charter was signed. What makes this enemy so fearsome is that it is anonymous. We don’t know who they are, where they are, or what they want. Their goals could either be blind chaos or a distinct, sinister agenda. In the face of such a threat, how do we respond as a galactic community?”

  Paine glanced at Godford and then at Nikkwill before continuing. “There are some who argue that new measures must be taken. That we must do anything possible to stop additional attacks, no matter the cost. But what are the costs we’re ignoring here? Dignity? Freedom? Peace and prosperity? We recognize that many nations within the League are not… democracies, by any means, but every government has a responsibility to its people, to protect them from enemies foreign and domestic. But in this climate of fear, who will protect us from ourselves? Who protects the people from their own government when draconian measures enforced in the name of security are enacted? Quis custodiet ipsos custodies – who will watch the watchmen?”

  #

  Gresham slowly pulled up to the front of the Catalina Convention Center, seeing an SIS man approaching slowly and waving at him to gain his attention.

  Tucking his gun into his pocket, Gresham got out of the HUVR. “Evening!”

  The security agent nodded in acknowledgement. “Evening to you too, sir. Can I help you?”

  “Major John S. Gresham, here for the security summit,” Gresham said and held up his hands. “I know I’m late, but traffic coming over here was a bitch.”

  “Sir, I’m sorry, but the reception is nearly over. The summit is starting soon and only essential personnel are allowed.”

  “I know General Godford. If anyone gets in late, it’s me.” He stuck out his thumb. “Check me, I’m cleared.”

  The SIS agent muttered something into his sleeve. He touched a finger to his ear as the response came back and he suddenly smiled courteously. “Follow me, please. We’ll check you in at the security center.”

  “Splendid.”

  They entered through the atrium in the lobby and Gresham looked out at the setting sun behind him. It was almost nine. He needed to find Hess or his men before something bad happened.

  “So I just wanted to give you a heads-up, I think there might be a threat,” Gresham said. “You mind helping me look around the building?”

  “I don’t think you’re cleared for that.”

  “Then call it in,” Gresham said flatly. “While you’re checking me in, you need to get somebody in the basement looking for a bomb.”

  The SIS man sighed and ran a hand through his hair. As he did, his jacket pulled back and Gresham could see that his sidearm was not standard issue, but an okka pistol.

  Gresham immediately had his handgun out and stuck it into the impostor’s back while grabbing him by the shoulder. “Okay, I’ll make this a little simpler; take me to the basement, immediately.”

  The impostor spun around, grabbing Gresham’s wrist in an attempt to disarm him. Gresham instinctively pulled the trigger and the bullet passed through the man’s face.

  He circled around the body, wiping blood from his cheeks, realizing that the sound of his gunshot had likely attracted attention to himself.

  He had to find the basement, and fast.

  #

  The reception room went silent after the sound and everyone looked towards the doors in concern. Was that a muffled gunshot they had heard?

  Two of the three security guards inside the room stepped outside and the remaining one held up a hand to Paine’s personal bodyguards, advising them to stay put for the time being.

  One of the security guards walked back into the room and flashed Paine a thumbs up. The President nodded and turned back his attention to the crowd.

  “As I was saying, it is the responsibility of us, as a galactic body, to move forward in unity and with the security of our citizens and their leaders as our foremost priority, but in that respect, we cannot forget the ideals that led to the creation of the League of Planets in the first place. We are a young and fragile union, the likes of which the galaxy has never seen…”

  Perry looked to one of the security guards, raising an eyebrow. The guard pointed his thumb towards the door. Whatever the problem was, it was being dealt with outside.

  #

  Gresham was running at a full-on sprint towards a Personnel Only door at the far end of the lobby. He turned around to see a single security guard in hot pursuit not far behind.

  He barged through the doors and slammed them shut behind him, and then stood expectantly pressed against the wall. An okka needle pierced the door’s window to confirm what Gresham already suspected – Hess’ men had already seized control of the convention center. It was a brilliant gambit, and he was impressed – using fake security so that everything would appear normal, and eliminating the real SIS contingent with silent okka guns. They had bought themselves a lot of ti
me.

  The mercenary tore the door open and Gresham swung hard, striking his pursuer in the face. The impostor struggled to get up and received a kick to the chest to keep him down. Gresham struck twice again with the butt of his gun, knocking the mercenary out cold, and then raised it back up to eye level, proceeding forward.

  On his left, he saw the open door to a stairwell leading downwards. This had to be it. He slid up along the side of the wall as he nudged the door open with his foot, peering down into the red-lit stairs.

  It appeared clear. Gresham slowly moved down the stairs, his heart pounding so loud he could hear the beat and could feel each pump of blood in his shaking fingers.

  #

  Hess glanced up, hearing a commotion over his voxcom. “Barkley? You there? What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve got a man shot dead and another who’s not answering,” Barkley replied testily. “There’s been a clear breach but hopefully they’ll be too late. We’re just about ready to move out. I’m dismissing the men outside of the reception room and I’ll keep an eye on things from up here. You guys almost ready?”

  “Yeah,” Hess said and motioned at two of the men plastering the MV5 onto the floor to stop what they were doing. “We’ll make sure nothing’s gone wrong down here. I’ll see you soon, Barkley. Wait for my signal.” He looked at the two expectant mercenaries. “Go check around the basement, make sure everything’s in the clear.”

  Hess looked back at Winchell and the last mercenary. “You both have something better to be doing? Get those tubes onto the paste quickly! Come on, we don’t have a lot of time!”

  They complied and laid the radioactive cylinders down as gently as possible. Hess fidgeted, watching Winchell reach for the jar of black crystals to catalyze the MV5 compound.

  “I’ll put just a few crystals in to give us the ten-minute window,” Winchell said. “Too many and the reactant will catalyze instantly.”

  Hess coughed and raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  “Yes, Mr. Hess. And we wouldn’t want to miss the flight out!”

  “No, we wouldn’t,” Hess said and pulled his gun out, shooting the confused mercenary next to him in the throat. He turned his arm immediately and shot Winchell in the forehead before he could react.

  Hess crouched down next to Winchell’s lifeless face. “You didn’t really think that any of us were leaving here alive, did you?”

  #

  Zurra scanned the lowest deck of the bridge, searching for a sign of Dakkal. It was completely empty, all the civilians having abandoned their vehicles and fled. There was only an eerie maze of empty HUVRs and the whine of the gunships circling nearby.

  “Where are you, Dakkal?” Zurra roared into the air.

  He heard a noise behind him and he realized something was moving beneath the metal grating that ran along the edge of the concrete barrier. He crouched down to a knee on the asphalt and raised his rifle.

  Two needles zipped up through the grating, one hanging near-suspended in midair before falling to the asphalt while the other’s trajectory carried it out over the side of the bridge. They were down in the bridge’s underbelly!

  Zurra heard a whine and turned around to see one of the gunships hovering alongside the third deck to check for trouble. He heard voices yelling from far above and realized that one of the other ships had dropped off soldiers on the top deck to check for survivors and secure the bridge.

  He crouched behind a HUVR and waited for the gunship to pass, which it did after about a minute. Zurra breathed a sigh of relief and looked around, trying to discern how Dakkal had descended even further down. His eye fell upon an opened hatch in the grating about twenty yards away and he moved to inspect it.

  There was another short ladder that led to a narrow catwalk. Zurra lay down on his stomach and lowered himself through the hole to look for his prey. An okka needle narrowly missed his upside-down head.

  Surprised, Zurra lost balance and fell headfirst down through the hatch, hitting the catwalk with a thud and nearly sliding off, his okka rifle coming loose and falling away. He managed to catch himself in time, his feet dangling freely over the ocean below.

  The narrow catwalk was part of a grid of maintenance walkways crisscrossing the bottom of the bridge. The wind came roaring across the water and the grid shook, rattling and swaying in what would on the bridge deck be felt only as a strong breeze.

  Zurra grunted and pulled himself higher, looking further along the walkway for a sign of Dakkal or his sidekick. Finally, he saw it; the red-spiked hair of a heretic beyond a wide metal crossbeam sandwiched next to a concrete support.

  “Frusrand guide my path,” he whispered once more under his breath and exerted all his might to pull himself up onto the walkway. Zurra flattened along the cold metal as an okka needle skimmed over the top of his head. He was completely pinned down and exposed.

  #

  “…As long I am in office, this administration will not dishonor or remove any of the rights afforded to every citizen of the Human Alliance, and this government will never breach the pacts made in the League of Planets Charter or infringe upon the sovereignty of any member-state in the name of our own security. I invite and challenge every member of the Chair Nations to join me, united as a galaxy, in the face of this new, invisible threat.”

  There was a round of applause and Perry checked the time. It was almost nine. Why no word from Hess? The reception would be ending soon.

  Something’s gone wrong, he thought, debating if he should call Barkley to check on progress. Maybe it was worth leaving to head for where the transport would meet them.

  Paine pointed his finger into the air for emphasis. “Going forward, we will need the entire interstellar community to come together. This may be difficult – I know that within the League, there are a number of nations that have a… troubled history, to say the least. I am personally aware that we humans have not always had the best relationship with the Krokator Star Empire, and that is an enmity I plan to mend and a friendship I look forward to building.”

  Nikkwill noticed that Paine was looking straight at him and nodded politely. Paine turned back to the audience. “Just look at what this summit represents! Just weeks after a string of senseless violence and assassinations, we can come together as a galaxy and amicably discuss a solution to our current challenge. That we have assembled in the same room a briling Prime, a high-ranking iktathol general, five Senators of the Pree Republic and even the krokator High Prod shows what we can and will accomplish in the days and months ahead!”

  There was another round of even louder applause. Paine was one hell of an orator, Perry had to give him that. He picked at the fish fillet on his plate with his fork, staring into space. Why hadn’t Hess applied the catalyst yet?

  #

  Gresham breathed out slowly, hearing voices up ahead in the hallway. The red lights made it difficult to discern what was in front of him but the sounds were definitely human.

  There was a noise behind him and he squeezed as much of his frame into a shadowed section of the wall as he possibly could. A figure came charging down the stairs, okka gun clear as day in the waxy illumination.

  There were faint pops in the darkness up ahead and needles pierced the silhouette’s chest. The mercenary descending the stairs cried out in pain and he fell, his gun discharging and sending a flurry of venomous barbs hurtling into the shadows ahead. Gresham heard a resounding cry and realized that two of the mercenaries had just shot one another on accident.

  Lucky me, he thought and raised his gun. There was still somebody else up ahead.

  An okka needle zipped by, clearing Gresham with several feet to spare, and Gresham saw movement near a distant blotch of red light. He fired three times. Five shots left.

  There was a thump and the figure he had shot at toppled out into the light, coughing and twitching on the concrete ground. Gresham quickly moved in his direction to see if his target was dead. In doing so, he passed in front of an opening th
at snaked away to the right. Gresham stopped and doubled back to go down the side corridor.

  He slowly inched along the wall, descending a short flight of stairs and hearing steam rattle through a pipe just above his head. Something moved up ahead and he saw a shadow along the floor, cast by not only the red lights but also by a portable lamp.

  “Who’s down there?” Gresham called out and reached the bottom of the stairwell, staying close to the wall to avoid revealing his position in the dim light.

  There was a gunshot that bounced wildly off of the wall opposite Gresham. He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. This was it.

  “You’re too late!” a voice screamed from ahead. Gresham reached the end of the hallway and saw in the adjoining heating chamber a figure hunched over a jug of black powder, which he was trying to unscrew with one hand while holding the glass with the same hand with which he clutched a gun.

  “You’re surrounded,” Gresham bluffed, slightly lowering his sidearm. “There are LAPD commandos and Marines taking back the building as we speak.”

  “You don’t suppose I would know if that was the case?” the figure called back and spun the top of the jar off. Gresham knew enough about MV5 from what he had read in the report on the Shoregrove bombing to recognize the catalyst for the explosive compound.

  Reacting fast, he brought his gun back up to eye level and pulled the trigger. What Gresham did not anticipate was his enemy standing up and doing likewise. They both squeezed hard and the pistol’s recoil made it quiver in his hands. He held it steady, but his final shot went errantly into the dark as he felt a hot, searing pain in his left shoulder and a second jolt on the side of his face. He clutched his arm where he had been struck and sank towards the floor, watching his target collapse backwards like a felled tree, knocking aside the jar of crystals, spilling the crystals out over the floor away from the MV5.

  Gresham dropped his gun to the floor and staggered over towards the body on the floor. He felt something warm and hot flowing down his cheek and neck, and he gingerly reached up with his right arm to touch it. He pulled back and saw blood on his fingertips and realized that he his head had also been grazed.