Pirates of the Outrigger Rift (25 page)

“Good stuff, eh?” Brock said.

“Where’d you steal this?”

“I have friends in high places.”

“Apparently,” Chandler said. “This stuff is hard to find. But I suppose a lot of luxury goods come through here. As I understand it, the pickings have been pretty good.”

Brock raised an eyebrow, then topped off Chandler’s drink. “I suppose so. I haven’t been involved in that end of the operation. I’ve mostly been doing what I’ve always done.”

“As little as possible?”

“Yep, pretty much.” Brock nodded and took a sip. “What’s it been, five years? Six?”

Chandler shrugged. “Something like that. What happened with you and that waitress in Opportunity City? What was her name?”

“Paula? I haven’t thought about her in years.” Brock shook his head. “Everything was fun until her husband got home from the Scouts.” They laughed, but it was a forced laugh. Tension hung between them like a heavy weight.

Brock took another tiny sip of his drink. Chandler noticed that he seemed more willing to pour than swallow. “So, I can’t believe you’re working for bounties these days,” Brock said.

“It’s a small world, ain’t it? I never figured you for a pirate, either. Last I heard you were doing freelance surveillance work.”

“Well that, my friend, is a long story, full of woe,” Brock said. He picked up the bottle. “Freshen your drink?”

“I’m good.” Chandler made as if to swallow a huge mouthful of the fiery liquor but actually only took in a sip. “Ah!” he breathed. “So tell me your story. We’ve got nothing but time, after all.”

Brock scratched his head. “Well, the latest episode began with me being a day late and a credit short on Raken. A man comes up to me and asks if I want to make some money. Says it will be simple surveillance work, just set up and watch a building.” Brock paused for a moment, stared into space, then let out a belch that rattled the walls and peeled the paint. “Damn, that tasted even worse the second time around.”

Chandler grinned.

Brock gave him an abbreviated version of what he’d been through, but Chandler could sense he wasn’t telling him the whole truth. In the back and forth, both men tried to extract information, but they kept their cards close to the vest. “So one thing leads to another, and here we are. As you know, I’m good at what I do.”

“Your girlfriend didn’t seem to think so.” Chandler laughed and took another sip.

“I’m sure you did much better and that’s why you guys are still together.”

“Touché,” Chandler said. “So what’s with this Glenn guy?”

“Used to be Thorne’s right-hand man. When the time came to take him out, Glenn popped him between the eyes and took over, but he’s not like Thorne at all.”

“How so?”

“He’s intelligent. He isn’t planning on being a pirate forever. He has bigger goals. He wants to use this operation as a lever to create a legitimate enterprise. I’m not sure how he’s going to do it, but I actually think he will. If he can steer clear of the Confed.”

“Fine with me. I wish him well. But I just want to get my money and get out of here,” Chandler said.

Brock nodded. “Yes, well, that is one problem. Do you remember the old saying about how three people can keep a secret?”

“Three can keep a secret if two are dead?”

“That’s it. No one who knows the actual coordinates of the base ever leaves it except to go on short raids. Once you know where it is, you really only have two ways out. Either join up and rise in rank to the inner circle, or leave feet first.”

“So you’re of the opinion that I won’t be making it out of here with my bounty?”

Brock shrugged. “Hey, what do I know? Tell you what, let’s finish this bottle and worry about that later.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

H
ank woke up to find his head resting on Sai’s lap. She was asleep, and her face looked peaceful, almost angelic, in the dim light. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the warmth of her body.

He felt the urge to kiss her sleeping lips. But he didn’t want to wake her and have her dreams be disturbed by the reality of their situation.

They were locked in a dark cell, dimly lit by the light that snuck in beneath the heavy steel door. They lay on a hard mattress that smelled of urine. A stainless steel toilet with a sink built into the upper tank stood in the middle of the back wall. The room measured about three meters wide and three meters deep.

His temples throbbed in pain. The last thing he remembered was punching someone, then being shot—by Chandler. He’d really betrayed them! Why? He remembered when Chandler had tried to pick them up in Last Chance. Had that been an offer of help or an attempted abduction?

What motivated a man like Chandler? Was it money? Could money really be that much more important than friends? Than honor? Hank couldn’t understand it. He’d seemed so genuine, and Hank prided himself on being an excellent judge of character. Well, an okay judge of character. There had been a few bad choices. Like that girl in—

Sai stirred in her sleep, and she moved her hand to caress his forehead. Hank closed his eyes and turned slightly to lay his cheek against her leg, enjoying this moment with her. Take the simple pleasures while you may. It was better than dwelling on their situation.

Hank heard the door rattle and open. Sai twisted and nearly spilled Hank to the floor as three large men entered the cell. Hank tried to jump up, but he was still stiff from the stunner blast.

“Come on, girlie. You’re getting transported,” one man said, making a grab for her.

Sai lashed out with a swift kick to his left kneecap. He fell with a scream, but the other two moved in with batons.

Hank tried to punch the first man, but the guard easily dodged his feeble attack, then smacked Hank in the jaw with his baton. Hank fell to the floor.

Sai tried to wrench herself from the grasp of the other man, but he jabbed her in the gut with the butt of his baton. She fell to her knees.

“Don’t even think about it,” one of them said to Hank as he struggled to get to his feet. Hank ignored him, pushing himself up. The man shook his head and kicked Hank in the ribs. Hank fell back to the ground, unable to catch his breath. This time he couldn’t muster the strength to try again. They dragged Sai from the room, and there wasn’t a thing he could do but watch them though his tears.

The man hit Hank one last time across the face, then backed out the door. “Pathetic,” he said.

“Where are you taking her?” Hank said.

“None of your business,” the man said.

“Lighting farts in the airlock? Is this the same guy who didn’t know the difference between concussion and incendiary charges?” Chandler asked.

“They might be brothers … or father and son.”

Both men roared in laughter. Even with the tiny sips they’d been drinking, they’d managed to drain the bottle of tequila. And a bit of whiskey as well.

After they both wound down, Chandler looked at Brock. This was a man he knew from war. This was a man he knew from countless days escaping from battle in Confed base bars and back-alley starport dives. He’d had this man cover him as he rushed into hell. He had to risk it. It could go two ways. Either allies to the end, or enemies who would do their damnedest to kill each other.

“So, Brock …”

Brock turned to Chandler and stared him in the eye. “Mike, let’s cut the shit. I know you’re not the kind of man who runs around kidnapping folks for blood money.”

Chandler nodded. “And I know that you’re not the type of guy who would work for pirates.”

Brock smiled. “So what the hell are we doing here?”

In a simultaneous motion, both men brought out the pistols they’d been aiming at each other from beneath the table, clicked them on safety, then placed them beside their drinks.

“You first,” Chandler said.

Brock sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Confed Secret Service. Deep cover for about a year. The Confed can only protect trade ships in the space directly around major ports of call. That used to be fine, because pirates typically had no way to locate merchant ships except by cruising around randomly in those areas fishing for prey. Thorne changed everything. He’s been able to get direct access to shipping routes and timetables. We can’t escort every ship. Our only hope of stopping him was to do it from the inside. What about you?”

Chandler took a swig. “Been doing private operative work. My current client is Lord Randol of Nebulaco. His daughter, Helen, was kidnapped. We were in the process of a jailbreak. We have the goods on the operation and how Thorne had been feeding off Nebulaco. We can shut the whole thing down. If we can make it out of here alive.”

“You’ll need help to do that.”

Chandler nodded. “You in?”

“Damn straight. I’m sick of this rock. All I needed was a way to get the coordinates and get out so I could report them to the Confed.”

“Well, we got ’em, and opportunity’s knocking on your door right now. Ready to go?”

Brock raised his glass. “All right then.” He slammed the last of his drink and stood up. The room spun and he blinked several times. “Give me a minute to let the floor stop moving.”

Chandler laughed and pushed himself to his feet. “Still a lightweight, aren’t you?”

He went to take a step, then reached for the table to steady himself.

Brock shook his finger at Chandler. “Who’s the lightweight now?”

“We can do this.”

“Be like our days in the Academy.”

Chandler grinned. “Those were the days. Where’s the head? I gotta piss like a Dynerian wildebeest.”

“Most guys just piss on the wall.”

“Yeah, I noticed. That’s just disgusting.”

“True. Piss in the bottle. We can seal it up and leave it in the galley. They’d probably drink it even if you labeled it
Tequila Piss
.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

C
handler and Brock marched as straight as they could, considering their condition. Their footfalls echoed through the corridor leading to the cell block. They looked at one another and grinned. Chandler felt pretty invincible, but then, he’d swallowed the worm.

When they reached the cell block, Brock strode right up to the guard’s station and slammed a hand down on the desktop. “We’re here to pick up some prisoners,” he said loudly.

“Oh look, it’s Brock,” the guard said. “I thought they had you on galley detail.”

Brock squinted his eyes and looked at the man. “Don’t I know you?”

“Yep,” the guard said. “I’m Ray. Ray Larson. Remember? Used to work for Nebulaco. I was the leader of Red Team on Raken. Got fired for that cluster, so I signed on with these guys. The pay is good. They gave me the job of guarding the
important
prisoners.”

“Well that explains why they ordered us to move them,” Brock said, jabbing Chandler in the ribs with his elbow.

Chandler smiled. “So this is the Larson guy?”

“Yep. He healed up pretty good, didn’t he?”

“So what’s the story?” Larson asked.

“Like I told you,” Brock said. “We’re here to transfer Hank Jensen, Sai Collins, and Helen Randol. Glenn wants us to take them to his special secret prison.” He gave Larson a wink.

“I didn’t hear anything about this.”

“No kidding,” Brock said. “That’s why it’s a secret.”

Larson checked his log. “Well, it says here the Collins girl has already been transferred.”

“Really?” Chandler and Brock shared a concerned look. “Where to?”

“Port Royal, Coulson City.”

“When did they transport her?” Brock said.

Ray checked the log again. “Just before I came on duty, about twenty minutes ago.”

“You see, Chandler? It never fails around here. They screw everything up. They were supposed to transport them all together.”

Chandler nodded. “Yes, it sure looks that way.”

“Hey, guys,” Larson said. “I wasn’t even here.”

“Oh no,” Brock said. “It’s not
your
fault. I understand. Hell, you’re too smart to screw up like that. Come on and help me load up these jerks.”

Larson shook his head. “Sorry, guys. I can’t.”

“What?”

“I have to have clearance from upstairs.”

Brock threw up his hands. “If that don’t beat all. Here I was thinking you were different from these other bozos, and you come up with something like that.”

“Sorry. I have to get authorization.”

Chandler reached forward and tapped the man on the head with his fist. “Hello! Think about what you’re saying.”

“What do you mean?”

“Okay. How do you get an authorization?” Chandler said.

Larson shrugged. “They call me on the com?”

Brock and Chandler nodded. “And what’s wrong with that?”

Larson’s gaze shifted from one expectant face to the other. “I don’t know.”

Chandler slapped himself on the forehead. “Think!
Anybody
can call you on the com. What does it take to fake a voice? Besides, what if someone tapped the system? How would you keep anything secret? That’s why they send us in person for the high-level security transfers. You know who we are, so you aren’t going to be fooled.”

Larson shook his head. “I don’t know, guys. I really think I should call upstairs.” He reached for the com control.

“No!” Brock yelled.

Larson looked at him suspiciously.

“Don’t you see? If you start broadcasting all over the base, then it won’t be a secret anymore. I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble, Ray. For example, how did they handle the transfer of the Collins girl?”

“They called down here on the com.”

“See? And that was a mistake. Had they done the proper procedure we would have been able to transport all of them at once. Does it make any sense to use two ships?”

“Well, no.”

“Exactly. Now, remember what happened on Raken at that oracle’s place?”

“Hey, that should have worked!”

“I know, but did it? Who was there trying to save your butt?” Brock cocked a thumb at himself, trying not to weave too much. “Yep, who’s your buddy?”

“You?”

“That’s right! Now, I guarantee that if you touch that com and breathe a word about us transferring these prisoners, all hell will break loose.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I speak with complete certainty.”

Larson sighed. “Okay. Let me find the keys.”

With Larson’s help, Chandler and Brock opened the cell doors. They brought Helen out first. She blinked in the bright light of the hallway. She was filthy—dirty clothes and black fingernails, her blonde hair matted and tangled. As she stepped out, they put her in manacles. She looked frightened and didn’t speak or meet their eyes. She’d gone from corporate princess to slave. Brock tried to nod at her, but she wouldn’t look at him.

Hank came next. He’d been beaten. A big welt was swelling up on his jaw. Dried blood crusted around his nostrils. His lips were swollen and split. He looked at Chandler with an expression of pure hate as they placed manacles on him. Chandler winked at him out of Larson’s sight, but he thought the motion infuriated more than comforted Hank. He was glad that Hank would be in cuffs for a while, at least until they liberated a ship, and perhaps longer than that based on the looks he was giving.

Chandler and Brock led the pair of prisoners out of the cell block. “Thanks, Ray,” Brock said. “Remember, not a word of this over the com. You know those idiots can’t keep quiet about anything. You just keep standing guard as if the prisoners are still in there. That’s the only way we can keep a lid on this and prevent those morons from spreading the news everywhere.”

“You got it, Brock!” Larson smiled, giving him a thumbs-up.

Chandler and Brock looked at each other and grinned.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Chandler moved close to Hank and whispered. “This is a jailbreak.”

Hank looked back at him, confused. “Is this another one of your games?”

“Just keep quiet, and leave everything to us,” Chandler said, leaning forward, almost knocking Hank over.

“Good god! You smell flammable,” Hank said. “What have you been drinking?”

“Tequila, but it’s all gone so don’t ask,” Chandler said.

Hank shook his head. “I really thought you had sold us out. I’m sorry.”

Chandler shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I would have felt the same in your boots.”

“Now the only person on my shit list is a thawed-out, lying pirate,” Hank said.

Helen looked at Chandler. “We’ve met, haven’t we?”

“Yep. Champion beer chugger at your service.”

She looked at Brock. “And my waiter is here as well.”

“The tips sucked, so I moved up in the world. How you feeling?”

“I’ve been better. You’re really here to save me?”

“That’s right. Your father sent us,” Chandler said.

“Really? I’m surprised my father even cares.”

“Believe it or not, you’re the only thing your father does care about. Now keep quiet, do what we say, and we’ll get you home to him.”

“Does anyone know what happened to Sai?” Hank asked.

Chandler’s features clouded. “She’s on her way to Port Royal. I figure whoever’s behind this whole thing is after what’s in her head about the bank accounts.”

Hank tried to smile. “At least we know they aren’t going to kill her. She’s the most valuable woman in the universe to them now.”

They followed the hallway to the hangar.

“The way I figure it, we’re practically home free,” Chandler said. “All we have to do is steal a ship in the middle of a crowded hangar, outrun a couple hundred pirate Marauders, rescue a girl from some bad guys, and save the galaxy before breakfast.”

“Been there, done that,” Hank said.