Star Runners: Mission Wraith (#3) (34 page)

Pushing the hatch far enough open for him to pass through, Austin crawled in and pulled his knees onto the floor of the room. He pulled the pen from his chest pocket as he moved in the kneeling position.
 

The pilot suddenly stood and turned, his bloodshot eyes growing wide as he stared at Austin. His jaw dropped, a string of spit hanging from his lips. Austin froze, hesitating.
 

The pilot turned to the closet. Austin squeezed the pen, unleashing a brilliant bright lightning bolt. The flash illuminated the room like a strobe. The bolt hit the pilot in the back of the head, and he fell to the floor. Austin exhaled, standing and leaning against the wall. The pilot twitched twice and remained still, his bucket spilling more vomit across the white floor.

Ignoring the burning in his muscles, Austin moved over to the main door and made sure it was locked. Turning around, he took in the room and planned his next move.
 

He didn’t have much time.
 

He turned the pilot over and searched the man to make sure no required forms of identification had been on him. He dragged him over to the trash chute. He pulled the zip ties from his pocket and tied the man’s wrist to the end of the hatch. With a grunt, he stuffed the pilot inside the chute and let him hang.
 

He shut the hatch to the trash chute and washed off in the sink, happy to get the smell of vomit off his hands. He cleaned the rest of the room, erasing any sign of vomit from the quarters. He stripped off his coveralls and stepped in front of the flight suit in the closet. The flight suit was black with bright red trim. Two identification badges hung from the chest. It was thick like his Tizona suit, heavier than you would first think when you picked it up. It fit perfectly.
 

The black helmet had a tinted visor just as Val had said. He slipped it on, found the fit to his liking. He grabbed a red folder from the top shelf and sat at the table. The folder contained a thin red tablet and papers written in Zahlian symbols. No doubt the tablet contained flight information just like Legion vessels. He would carry it with him when he made his way to the
Wraith
, and plug it into the fighter when the time came.
 

He sighed and closed his eyes, a wave of fatigue washing over him despite his adrenaline pumping. He cracked his knuckles. Closing his eyes, he replayed the orders Val had given him the night before.
 

“The
Wraith
was very close to the pilot’s quarters,” she had said. “Once you get the signal, walk directly for the fighter. You only have ten minutes to reach the
Wraith’s
hangar. Ten minutes or all this effort would have been for nothing.”
 

When he started thinking about escaping the Claria system and his refuel point, he shook his head.
 

Stop it, he thought. Focus on now. Focus on what you have to do next to survive. It is the only way this will work. You have plenty of time to worry about the rest later. One task at a time.
 

He suddenly heard Nubern’s voice in his head.
 

“Take what you’ve learned from today and apply it to your next encounter.”
 

His ears filled with a hissing sound. “Breakfast will be served cold,” Val’s voice came through his implant.
 

He stood, buckling the holster for the laser pistol around his belt and sliding Val’s pen into his chest pocket.
 

The time had come.
 

Austin Stone tightened the Zahlian helmet into place, locking it into the collar. He pulled down the tinted visor, hiding his face. He latched his gloves and stood in the quarters for a moment, taking in a deep breath.
 

The door to the corridor suddenly slid open. Austin took a step back.

Two Zahlian Marine guards stood facing him with laser rifles draped across their chests. They stared forward, their eyes not acknowledging his presence. He lingered for a moment, feeling their attention shifting on him. They stared at him, motionless.
 

Fearing he remained still for too long, he arched his back and marched out of the door and to the right down the white hall, trying to emulate the stroll of an arrogant officer. The guards turned behind him. His boots echoed on the flawless polished floor. The building was so perfectly white; he had trouble distinguishing where the floor met the walls. Footsteps joined his own, and he knew the guards had fallen in behind him.
 

The corridor came to a halt up ahead. A pulsating maroon sign glowed with black Zahlian symbols. He felt the attention of the Marines behind him. He took another right as Val had instructed, trying to act as if he had made this walk a thousand times before. He didn’t know how he could project “routine.” It wasn’t something he had thought about practicing. As a fresh bead of sweat slithered down the center of his back, he wished he had.
 

Two doors opened up at the end of the hall to reveal a bowl-shaped area the size of a tremendous auditorium. Another guard stood in the doorway, facing Austin. He stepped up next to the guard and paused in the doorway. Was he too early? He saw no distraction Val had promised, nothing but rigid order.
 

“Major,” the guard said through Austin’s translator.
 

Austin offered a shallow nod, unable to respond as he looked into the room. Should he move into the room?
 

A line of computer-filled offices lined the rim of the room behind glass, everything focusing on the center. Engineers and technicians worked at their stations on the ground level, adjusting screens and typing on holographic keyboards. In the center, standing out in the otherwise white room, sat the parked
Wraith
.
 

His eyes widened at the horseshoe crab shape of the dark fighter, looking powerful and ominous. The hull was black like volcanic glass, shimmering and reflecting its surroundings. He had seen what this girl could do up close, remembering the unimaginable speed and maneuverability. But now it seemed to beckon to him like the finish line at the end of a marathon. She wanted Austin to fly her out of here. His breathing quickened. Up above, the ceiling came together in two pieces. Austin blinked. The hangar doors.
 

The room looked familiar. Austin remembered the video Braddock had shown on board the
Formidable
, the images shot by an agent. Was that one of the agents Val had mentioned?
 

Austin stepped into the room, making his way toward the
Wraith
.
 

The glass separating the offices from the rest of the room suddenly shattered, followed by a wave of fire. A shower of tiny glass particles blasted across the area, the pieces falling like a crystal rain. Black smoke poured into the room, hanging over the hangar like a storm cloud.
 

“Excuse me, sir!” a guard barked from behind Austin.
 

He got out of the way, spinning and backing against the wall. Chaos filled the facility, engineers coughing and recoiling from the flames. White gas shot from the ceiling inside the offices, extinguishing the fire immediately. The gas filled the room like a morning fog, reducing his vision to a few feet in front of him.
 

Move it!

Marching with confidence, he strode down the stairs to the center of the room. Men and women in white lab coats brushed past him, hacking and crying as they tried desperately to exit. Some crawled on their hands and knees, blood trickling from their ears. He fought the instinct to help them, instead focusing on the fighter he knew lurked in the cloud of gas.
 

A colossal guard with a chest like carved marble materialized and stood in front of him, clicking his boots loudly on the floor. He saluted and shook his head.
 

“We cannot continue our mission today, Major,” he said. “At least not until the gas clears.”

Austin took in a breath, looking to his left and right. He saw no other guards within the thick white gas. He turned back to the guard, noticing the laser pistol at his side.
 

He swallowed. He knew what he had to do.
 

Nodding as he placed his hand on the pen in his front pocket, Austin turned halfway around as if he planned to leave. He snapped back, yanking the pen from his pocket and firing.
 

The lightning bolt struck the guard square in the jaw, sending him spinning like a top back into the gas.
 

He heard screaming, voices barking orders. He ran through the white gas mixing with the black smoke, hoping the fighter was close. The floor rumbled, a strong vibration filling the room. The gas and smoke began to dissipate, his visibility improving. The ventilation system must have activated.

Through the smoke, emerging like a creature from a children’s story, poked the nose of the
Wraith
.
 

Found you, Austin thought. He hurried to the ladder leading to the cockpit. As he climbed, he kept the tablet tucked under his left arm.
 

As he was about to spin around and drop into the cockpit, his shoulder flashed with pain. Sparks erupted from his flight suit. He fell onto the ladder. He winced, tightening his grip on the side of the cockpit. A screaming guard emerged from the rapidly disappearing smoke. Austin pulled his pistol and fired twice, striking the guard in the face.
 

Ignoring the pain burning into his shoulder, Austin collapsed into the cockpit and thrust his tablet into the console. The control board flashed to life. He keyed for engine start up and shut the canopy. Most of the fighter’s systems had prepped and appeared to be on standby. As the canopy slid shut, the roar of his engines blared inside the hangar like a monstrous roar from the depths. Papers fluttered around the room like a snow storm.
 

As soon as he was able and the fighter’s systems had warmed up, he activated the shields and raised the craft off the floor. He hovered for a moment, wondering if the hangar doors would open. He paused, the
Wraith
tilting to the side as he rotated it around the confines of the room.

He couldn’t control his breathing, his helmet fogging up slightly. His hands trembled as he plugged the flight suit into the
Wraith’s
life support systems, the condensation on his helmet fading. The hangar doors above him hadn’t opened. If they didn’t, he would be trapped in this complex.
 

Laser fire bounced off the shields as the gas and smoke exited the room. More Zahlian guards filed inside, lining around the fighter. He couldn’t count them all, but several dozen pointed their weapons at him.
 

A sinister voice breathed into his headset. “Did you really think you could steal it?”

Austin searched the scene, his fingers resting lightly on the trigger. If he couldn’t get out of here, he wouldn’t go down without doing damage. He checked the readout, saw he had four missiles, two stunners, one full spread of countermeasures and laser guns—enough to take this entire complex with him.

“Land immediately,” the voice said, louder this time. “Land and I promise you will receive a quick death. Land and save us the trouble of destroying our fighter.”
 

“I can’t do that,” Austin said without transmitting. He activated a missile and prepared it to fire.
 

I’m sorry, Mom. I really am.
 

He touched the trigger, closed his eyes and prayed. When he opened his eyes, he lowered his gaze.
 

“Here we go,” he said, ready to fire.