Sons of Abraham: Terminate (18 page)

              A failure, that’s what he was.  Jones told himself that he’d taken a grand risk to acquire the data for the Cyber hardware, and now the risk required a hefty payment.  He didn’t need to consult with his colleagues to know what steps must be taken next.  It was regrettable, but the outcome was necessary.

              Ten minutes passed before the duo reached the armory.  Anderson put the code into the panel, then swiped his badge before the thick door opened.  The heavy man ushered Jones inside, pointing to the suits on the far end of the room.  Jones nodded though he noted the rows of assault rifles, ammo clips, and various grenades that filled the room.

              “Know what you’re doing?” Anderson asked.

              “Yes, I’ve taken a few spacewalks in my day.  I’ll need a cart, though.  Those oxygen canisters can get heavy.”

              “Oh sweet Jesus, what was I thinking?” he muttered.  “Hell, we passed the storage room with the carts five minutes ago.”

              Anderson started to walk out, then appeared nervous as he turned to gaze Jones head to toe. 

              “You alright in here?”

              “Yes, I’ll just double check the pressure on the cells while you’re gone.”

              “Okay, I’ll just be ten minutes.”

              “Take your time, they still have to round up our escorts.”

              Anderson darted out of the room, allowing for Jones to get to work in privacy.  He waited until the door closed, sealing him inside before taking his datapad from his pocket.  His fingers danced across the screen, linking into the communications network for the station.  Once inside, he activated the proper program, which needed only twenty seconds to perform its duty.  He scrolled through the network, searching for the coms he would need to apprehend.  He found Keenan’s, then Vanessa’s, each of the Marine’s, the pilots’, and finally the transport ship’s com-codes and directed them to his data pad.  From that moment on, all messages they sent would filter through the device he stuffed back into his pocket.

              He piled six suits onto the floor, then chose eighteen oxygen cylinders.  He placed five into the suits, leaving one chamber empty.  Then, he waited for the man to return.

              The door slid open as Anderson pushed the cart into the room, clearly out of breath.  Jones estimated it took the man eight minutes, leaving him to ponder if the poor fellow would keel over as they loaded the suits.  The work went quickly as the two piled the suits and tanks onto the cart.  Anderson was all too happy to allow the tall, strapping, and younger man to push the cart back to the quarters. 

              The time crept by as Anderson gave Jones more history of the ring, which Jones pretended to take an interest towards as he focused on the squeaking front wheel of the cart.  The journey felt like a lifetime as the man continued on, his story morphing into his first week on the station, and how everything seemed to go wrong at once.  Finally, Jones brought the squeaking wheel to a merciful stop outside of his quarters.

              “You should go ahead and get the docking codes to the pilots,” Jones informed him.  “I’ll just need a minute to gather my things.”

              Anderson gave him a puzzled look, his mouth hanging open as if to protest.  The man thought twice, shaking his head as he waddled on down the hallway.

              Jones stuffed the cart through the door, pulled the suit with the empty backing and tossing it on the bed.  He unlocked the latches, then slid his hand under the bed, returning with the black bag he’d hidden.  His fingers ignored the top two containers, instead going directly for the one on the bottom.  He checked the door, then pulled the pad from his pocket and opened the case.  The silver box lies waiting, springing to life as he accessed its controls through the data pad.  The green light came on, leaving him to close the case and put the pad to sleep.  He stuffed the black box into the empty container for the oxygen tank.  He threw the other suits on the bed, carefully placed the loaded suit onto the cart, and then returned the others on top of it.  He jumped to his feet, snatched all his clothes from the closet, and stuffed them into the bag without care. 

6 CHAPTER SIX

              The sun beat down on Calloway’s neck as he stormed to the spaceport.  The image of the prisoners overtook his senses, the vibrations of their crushing bones against the cells drowning out his emotions as his stomach threatened to unload.  In all his life, he’d never witnessed such a monstrous display of brutality, the sight of the prisoners bodies, collapsed under the weight of the artificial gravity, riddled to little more than a pile of liquid forever burned into his thoughts.

              “Agent Calloway!” Commander Dayne shouted as he ran to catch up.  “Please wait!”

              Nathan thought of ignoring the call.  His feet wanted nothing more than to storm to his ship and leave this planet in his dust trail.  The boots were stomping hard behind him, allowing for him to either wait for the Commander to catch him, or break into a full sprint to avoid him.  Somehow, his training reminded him that ignoring the Overseer would be an insult to the Eden Monarchy, and would lead to disciplinary action.  He waited.

              “Agent Calloway, is everything alright?” Bastiian asked, his words coming smooth as the fit man had miles to go before losing his breath. 

              “How can I ever be alright again?” Nathan shouted, turning to the Commander.  “That was the most horrific display of cruelty I’ve EVER witnessed.  You DARE to call yourselves civilized?”

              “It was an execution,” Bastiian replied, his face locked in shock.  “How would you suggest we kill them?  Should we give them a sleeping drug and gently suffocate them?”

              “Yes!”

              “Absurd.  You suggest we show pity upon them.  They were criminals.”

              “They were human beings!  You wouldn’t slaughter an animal in such a manner.  You would treat a disease with more mercy than what you did.”

              “It has always been our way.”

              “Your way is nothing more than bloodlust.”

              Bastiian stepped in front of Calloway, stretching to his full height.  It wasn’t the first time someone tried physical intimidation on the Agent though the armor was a nice touch. 

              “Get out of my way.”

              “Go around.”

              Nathan leaned in, his chest pressed against the heavy armor of the Commander.  People had stopped their walking, choosing to pause and watch the two men challenge one another.  Nathan was smaller, and lacked the impressive armor, but he had no intention of breaking Bastiian’s stare. 

              Bastiian continued the locked gaze, then blinked and stepped away, allowing Nathan to pass.  The Commander’s footsteps continued to follow as the Agent pulled ahead, nearing the large station that led to the port.  Dayne quickened his pace, reaching the Agent’s side as he hung his head before speaking.

              “My apologies, Agent Calloway,” he muttered.  “It wasn’t proper of me to lash out of you in such a manner.  I pray you won’t think ill of my people because of my words.”

              “No more than I already did.”

              Bastiian smacked his hand against the armor over his thigh, the blow echoing off the nearby corner, causing many to turn their heads in concern.  The Commander sped up once more, circling in front of the Agent, and cutting him off from the entrance to the port holding his Cirrus.  Nathan stopped, though not because the Commander stepped into his path.  He stopped because a figure, in a dark cloak, was standing next to the ramp of his ship.

              “What’s going on, Commander?” Nathan asked, still looking to the cloaked figure.

              “Please, walk with me, but keep your voice down.”

              The two walked halfway through the port before stopping once more.  Nathan tried to peer to the dark figure though the cloak prevented him from seeing the face. 

              “I’m afraid I must clean my conscious,” Bastiian started.  “I suspect you never believed my reasons for requesting your presence.”

              “Imagine that,” Nathan said with sarcasm. 

              “Yes, well, believe me when I say I had my reasons for not trusting you.”

              “You trust me?  Think ya got the order wrong, Commander.”

              Bastiian sighed and looked to the side, trying to gather his thoughts before attempting to speak with the angered Agent.  He looked up at Nathan through his brows, his frame stooping to appear to beta.

              “My apologies, Agent Calloway, but I needed to KNOW the man before I could trust the man.  My lies started when I mentioned the work performed on your vessel.”

              “So the oxygen leak isn’t fixed?”

              “Oh no, the leak has been repaired.  I thought it the least I could do, considering.  My mechanics has also balanced your positioning harriers.  I hope it makes for smoother landings.  However, if I may continue?  I needed an Agent to come because I have something very precious to me, which needs to reach Earth.  I’ve placed this precious cargo on your ship, but now I beg of you not to toss it before you leave.”

              “And the dark cloak?” Nathan asked, still looking at the dark figure.

              “Yes, I’m getting to her.  I am begging you, as one honorable man to another, to please see that the cargo reaches Earth.  You will know the exact location when you gaze upon it.  You must understand, there were no other options for me to take.  I couldn’t risk being discovered by a random check at the port, on either planet.  As an Agent, you are immune to such nuisances, thus assuring delivery.”

              “I’m not a delivery boy,” Nathan muttered, looking to the Commander in distaste.  “And that mess back there makes me questions anyone’s honor on this planet.”

              Bastiian held back, shoving his anger deep down before continuing to plead his request.

              “I understand,” he continued.  “I swear I shall never again speak to your displeasure of our ways.  With that said, I must return to the matter at hand.  This cargo is so precious to me that I would offer ANY amount of wealth to ensure safe delivery.”

              “I’m not a greedy man.”

              “Then this negotiation should be short.”

              Nathan couldn’t help but smile, relieving the tension amongst the two proud men.

              “Not SO short,” he laughed.  “I don’t want riches, in any form you offer.  I want something way more valuable.”

              “You have my attention.”

              “My job comes with a certain amount of risks,” Nathan continued, the smile fading.  “There have been several occasions when a favor fulfilled would have made an enormous difference.  Especially if this favor were to come from someone as capable as an Overseer.”

              “What kind of favor do you speak?” Bastiian asked, looking concerned.

              “I have no way of knowing right now,” he replied.  “Maybe I need help to track down a suspect…..”

              “I shall place an army at your disposal.”

              “I could find myself homeless….”

              “I’ll build your home with my bare hands.”

              “Maybe I’ll need your Queen spied on?”

              Bastiian opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. 

              “Well, good to know the limit beforehand,” Nathan added, noting the Commander’s discomfort.  “I kinda noticed you never called the cargo an ‘it.’  Wanna explain why?”

              The Commander grew uneasy, his eyes shifting to a place above Nathan’s left shoulder.

              “I cannot,” Bastiian whispered.  “We are being recorded.  I’m certain they cannot hear us as we stand in the center of this vast port, but I dare not take such a risk when the loss could be so dire.”

              “I see,” Nathan whispered.  “So if there’s an army closing in around me?”

              “I shall rain down upon them with all of Eden’s might,” Bastiian informed him, standing tall and proud.

              “Alright, you have a deal.”

              Nathan stuck out his open hand, which Bastiian quickly took.  The two men shook on the deal.  Bastiian attempted to release his grip, but the Agent clutched his hand, pulling the man, forcing them to stand with their opposite shoulder’s touching.

              “If you make me regret this,” he threatened.  “My face will haunt your dreams until I take that last, arrogant breath from your lungs.”

              The Commander nodded in agreement, allowing for Nathan to release his hand and take a step back.  The thin fabric between the fingers of the Commander’s gantlets was torn, the edges shearing through it like butter under the strong grip of Calloway. 

              “The dark cloak?” Nathan reminded him.