Supremacy's Outlaw: A Space Opera Thriller Series (Insurgency Saga Book 3) Page 16

  Jan pushed up, winced at the pain shooting from his shin up to his hip, and took a few experimental steps. He made three before he sat heavily. His shin hurt too much to walk.

  So it was over. Finally. Given all the heat he now faced — the agony of Senator Tarack’s impending torture nanos, Elena Ryke’s impending torture followed by death, the CSD’s random desire to arrest him, and one last random fuck you from a bunch of giant lizards — it almost felt good to give the whole situation the finger and simply concede.

  It would have been nice to confront Fatima, to find out the truth about her betrayal (or lack thereof) but now, staring down his own self-inflicted death, Jan was relieved it was over. He wouldn’t be forced to choose between getting revenge and losing Kinsley forever. He wouldn’t have to decide if Fatima was telling the truth or lying to him, because he was going to die.

  Emiko slid an arm beneath Jan’s armpit and pulled. “Get up, you big baby. We’ve got to go.”

  “I will never make it,” Jan said. “Not now.”

  “Don’t be such a nutsack! It’s just a little torture. We’ll get you home and comatize you.”

  “I’ve already gotten you both in enough trouble.” Jan gripped Emiko’s hand and squeezed. “Ryke expects her disc, and the CSD expects my head. My death, I believe, will satisfy both, leaving you in the clear.”

  “You might be right,” Kinsley said, grabbing Jan’s other arm and pulling up. “But we’re not ready for you to die.”

  Reluctantly, Jan let both women help him to his feet. Even with them supporting him, each step felt like a dagger in his shin. He’d endure the pain until he could explain everything.

  “There’s something I’ve neglected to tell you,” Jan said, as the three of them hobbled along. He owed them the truth.

  Emiko snorted. “You don’t say.”

  “It was Fatima who stole the data disc we seek from Senator Tarack,” Jan said, each agonizing step cutting its way through his brain. “I had no intention of working with her. My purpose in coming here and enlisting you was to hunt her down.”

  “What a shocking revelation,” Emiko said, with a huff. “Now can you be less heavy, please?”

  “Also, it was Fatima’s betrayal that sent me to orbit five years ago.” That hurt almost as bad as the pain in his leg. “Fatima sold me to the Supremacy.”

  Emiko missed a step and Jan cried out, unable to support himself. All three of them went down in a tumble. Jan hissed and clutched his shin, groaning as he rolled back and forth.

  “No effing way!” Emiko expertly disentangled herself and sat straight up.

  “You are mistaken,” Kinsley added, as she struggled to extricate herself from beneath Jan’s weight.

  Jan rolled off Kinsley and frowned at her. “Am I?” She sounded awfully confident. “And just what makes you say that?” Kinsley and Fatima had always been as close as sisters, so if Kinsley knew something Jan didn’t ...

  Kinsley brushed her legs off and sat up. “You were simply captured by the Supremacy. It happens to the best of us.” She didn’t answer Jan’s question, which told him enough.

  “I got captured because I went to the starport to meet Fatima,” Jan reminded Kinsley, holding his aching shin. “I responded to her text—”

  “Texts are trivial to fake,” Kinsley interrupted.

  “—and met her in person, as requested, at Bay N-6 in the Star’s Landing starport. Fatima waited there by an old freighter. She beckoned me forward. And then—”

  “Motherfucker,” Emiko whispered.

  “—the Supremacy arrived,” Jan finished. “Two CSD officers escorted Fatima to safety as Captain Varik and his Vindicators surrounded me. Fatima walked right out the door.”

  “You don’t have all the facts,” Kinsley said.

  “What other facts are there?” Jan demanded. “I watched her walk away, and then Captain Varik said—”

  “Supremacy officers are not known for their honesty,” Kinsley interrupted again.

  “—that Fatima sold me out for four hundred thousand dollars.” Jan glared right at Kinsley. “So if you’re so certain Fatima didn’t betray me, if you know, Kinsley, tell me what actually happened five years ago. Now.”

  Kinsley knelt at his side. “We will talk about this later, once we’re back at the Hole.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “First, we get you home.”

  Kinsley absolutely knew something about why Jan went to prison five years ago, and why Fatima claimed she hadn’t betrayed him. Why would she refuse to share that with him?

  Jan supposed it didn’t matter. He was done anyway. Kinsley and Fatima could keep their big secret, as even knowing the truth wouldn’t change what had to happen now.

  Jan pulled his arm away. “I’m not enduring those torture nanos.” Neither woman could make him walk against his will, and he was not enduring an hour of torture on the way back home.

  “So suck it up!” Emiko tugged futilely on his bicep. “You got us into this! You can’t just give up!”

  Jan gripped Emiko’s hand. “Tell Ryke the CSD was going to pick me up, and I killed myself to avoid going back to prison. Nothing will blow back on you.”

  “Fatima would never betray either of you,” Kinsley said, looking between them with a hard gaze, “and you are going to live long enough to learn that. Now get up.”

  “Sorry.” Jan leaned back and closed his eyes. “I’m done.”

  “Get up, Jan!” Emiko shouted.

  “Go on. Be safe. Tell the others what happened to me.” Jan reached for the brace of knives at his back and wrapped his hand around one hilt. He didn’t want to see their faces when he sliced his own throat. He didn’t want to look them in the eyes.

  Emiko straight up tackled him. She hopped right onto him and jammed her fingers against his lips. Her attack was so out of character it took him off guard, and his eyes popped open when he realized Emiko’s fingers were sticky and wet.

  The gloss. Emiko’s knock-out gloss!

  As the roof of the maglev track spun and the world darkened, Jan remembered to struggle. He tried, he really did, but the effects of Emiko’s drugged lip gloss were irresistible. He batted futilely at Emiko’s hand, flailing in disbelief as she, too, betrayed him, and pants-shitting terror gripped his brain.

  When he woke, he knew, it would be to a world of agony.

  Bharat grimaced as their autocar pulled to a stop a full three blocks away from their intended destination: the Greasy Bowsprit. It was all too obvious why the autocar had stopped. It was the line of blinking armored barricades with the glistening letters “CSD” prominently displayed.

  Each barricade stood at least two meters tall. Though they did not fit together tightly enough to prevent a single person from moving in and out, they certainly constricted movement such that anyone squeezing through in either direction would be an easy target for an average marksman. Bharat idly wondered how the CSD had hauled those barricades out here. Airdropped, or did they have a fleet of flatbed trucks?

  “Whatever are they doing here?” Fatima asked from beside him, in what would have been the driver’s seat in a vehicle that had manual controls. “Did we miss a gang war?”

  Bharat debated charting another destination, but they’d already wasted forty minutes on the drive over here. Jan had less than an hour before the torture nanos inside him spun up and stung the shit out of him. Their best and only chance of finding Jan before that happened was speaking to the woman Jan had mentioned earlier: Tiana Johnson, owner of the Greasy Bowsprit.

  Bharat tapped the green exit button by the door. The gullwing door hissed open. Yet as he stepped out, Fatima grabbed his shoulder and pulled.

  Bharat allowed himself to be pulled back inside the autocar. His only alternative was yanking Fatima out in front of the officers watching from the barricade, and he imagined that would raise some eyebrows.

  “Are you blind?” Fatima whispered, even though Bharat doubted the officers could hear. “That is Ceto Security Division. Yo
u do recall they plan to arrest us?”

  “You,” Bharat said. “They plan to arrest you.”

  Fatima huffed and released his shoulder. “I hate to shatter your illusions of supremacy, but even if they don’t want you in orbit, they do not let random civilians wander in off the street. Given how many CSD officers are former Patriots of Ceto, you’ll be lucky if one doesn’t accidentally shoot you in the back.”

  “I have diplomatic credentials,” Bharat reminded her. “Even if those don’t get me inside the barricade, we have no better options. You asked me to rescue Jan, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” Fatima said, one elegant eyebrow raised. “And that’s worked out splendidly.”

  “Let me do this,” Bharat insisted. “Given the CSD presence that has now formed a perimeter around Tiana’s tavern, it’s likely Jan was here not long ago. If Tiana hasn’t stashed Jan somewhere, she’ll certainly know where he is.”

  “And you honestly believe she’ll reveal anything to you?” Fatima asked. “To some random Advanced she’s never met?”

  Fatima made a good point. Bharat had never actually met Tiana Johnson. Still, Bharat couldn’t know his plan wouldn’t work until he tried it. “Will she trust you?”

  “I quite doubt it.”

  “So we try this my way first,” Bharat said. “Hold onto the car. We might need it. I’ll be back soon.”

  Fatima sat back and crossed her arms. “See that you are.”

  Bharat stepped out of the autocar and approached the barricade. He could just make out a man in body armor standing behind it. The man stood well in the shadow, and it was impossible to tell what he wore or if he was armed.

  “Stop!” the officer at the barricade shouted. “This is a restricted area! Turn around and return to your vehicle!”

  Bharat did stop walking — it wouldn’t do to keep advancing on an armed CSD officer — and casually raised his hands. “I’m here on diplomatic business for Senator Clara Tarack!” he shouted. “I must speak with your commander!”

  “Return to your vehicle!” the officer repeated.

  Behind him, Bharat heard the crunching of the autocar’s wheels and the audible hum of its electric motor. He glanced back in time to see the car finish a turn and glide away.

  What was Fatima up to? No matter. This played right into his hands. Bharat turned back to the barricade.

  “As you can clearly see,” he shouted, “it is now impossible for me to return to my vehicle! If you’ll just summon your commander, I’ll present my credentials, and we can all avoid an interplanetary incident!”

  There was no immediate response, which was the confirmation Bharat needed that the officer had just radioed his commander. Bharat invoking the name of a Supremacy senator had marked this encounter as far above this officer’s pay grade. Each passing minute brought Jan closer to death by torture nanos, but Bharat waited. Rushing the barricade would simply get him shot.

  “Approach slowly and keep your hands up!” the officer shouted. “Do it now!”

  Bharat kept his hands raised and walked forward. He reached the barricade to find one officer waiting. From the way his hand hovered at the pistol at his hip, the man was a rookie. The face behind his visor looked nervous for a man in full body armor, behind multiple barricades, with other officers backing him up.

  The man standing beside the rookie obviously wasn’t one. His posture remained ramrod straight, and he had his feet placed evenly to maximize balance. He wore body armor as well, but no helmet, and had short blond hair. His handsome, unscarred face belonged on a CSD recruitment poster.

  “Identify yourself,” the blond officer ordered. The name tag on his chest read “Coffman.”

  Coffman wore what Bharat believed to be a lieutenant’s pips on his shoulder, though Ceto Security Division wasn’t consistent with their ranks. Bharat saw no reason to lie about his identity, given he had no way to plausibly do so.

  “My name is Bharat Dhillon. I’m Senator Clara Tarack’s chief of security. May I ask what happened here?”

  “Credentials,” Lieutenant Coffman said. So that was a no.

  “You have a PBA?” Bharat asked, out of habit. Unlike the Advanced, not every natural-born on Ceto had one installed.

  Coffman narrowed his eyes. “Yes. Now identify yourself, or I’ll arrest you for impersonating a diplomat.”

  Bharat tapped the side of his head with a thumb, bringing up a Send prompt in augmented reality. He attached his credentials, fixed his gaze on the blond lieutenant, and tapped his temple one last time. The other man blinked, then relaxed.

  “I’m Lieutenant Coffman,” Coffman confirmed, which showed he was more of a by-the-book stickler than a casual asshole. “What brings you all the way out here, Chief Dhillon?”

  “I’m hunting a fugitive,” Bharat said. “Jan Sabato.”

  “I see.” The way Coffman’s jaw tightened revealed this news did not please him. “And why is the chief of security for a Supremacy senator hunting a random thief on my planet?”

  “I can say only that Senator Tarack wishes to speak to Mr. Sabato, and she’s tasked me to find him so she can do so. I trust he was here recently?”

  “It’s interesting how you told me you can’t share why you’re here,” Coffman said. “Because, in a truly shocking development, I have no obligation to share anything with you, either. Unless you have an arrest warrant.”

  So it was going to be like that. “I see no reason we can’t help each other. All my employer needs is a few minutes to speak to Sabato, over vidcomm. Once we find him, he need not even leave your prison cell.”

  Bharat certainly wasn’t going to let Jan get captured again, but Coffman didn’t have to know that. Bharat remembered Jan’s tortured, desperate screams inside Tarack’s yacht. He had to find Jan before Jan endured that again.

  “That’s generous of you,” Coffman said. “It’s also unnecessary. You have my contact information, and you now have my word that once we capture Sabato, I’ll let your employer have a few minutes with him.” Coffman offered a mild smile. “Wouldn’t want to cause an interplanetary incident.”

  Bharat frowned. “I’d prefer to help you find him.”

  “And I’d prefer you leave local law enforcement matters to local law enforcement.” Coffman’s stare made it obvious this argument was over. “You’re one whole planet out of your jurisdiction here, Chief, and we both know I’m being polite.”

  So much for speaking to Tiana. Desperation surged in Bharat as he pondered options, but nothing he could think of would result in anything less than, as he and Coffman had both pointed out, an interplanetary incident.

  “I understand, Lieutenant. Thank you for your time.”

  “Sure thing,” Coffman said, but as he turned away, Bharat raised a hand. Coffman paused, annoyed, and turned back. “Yes?”

  “Why exactly are you hunting Mr. Sabato?”

  Coffman raised one eyebrow. “Why are you?”

  Fair enough. “He stole something from my employer. She’d very much like it back.”

  “That’s nice,” Coffman said. “He killed four of my officers and wrecked their APC, so you’ll forgive me if I have a strong incentive to track him down myself.”

  Bharat kept his expression as neutral as he could manage. “I’m sorry to hear that.” When had Jan tangled with the CSD? And didn’t he know better than to kill government officers?

  “Thank you,” Coffman said, and he turned on his heel and strode away. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Bharat ignored the rookie, who still fidgeted nearby. Coffman hadn’t given any order to make Bharat leave, so the rookie was likely working out the plusses and minuses of starting an argument. Bharat walked out of the barricades. He’d made this poor rookie’s job stressful enough for one day.

  No wonder Lieutenant Coffman had dropped a three-block cordon around Jan’s last known location. After someone killed four of their fellow officers, most planetary security forces tended to get upset. He hoped none of th
e soldiers now hunting Jan planned to take justice into their own hands.

  As he left the barricades behind, Bharat surveyed the dilapidated streets ahead. He’d learned the hard way, back in the Luxury District, that his instincts wouldn’t keep him safe down here. He had no idea what he’d say to Ava Cole when he saw her again. He didn’t even know who had Jaxon Cole’s body.

  Also, where the hell had Fatima driven off to? Had she abandoned him to search for Jan on her own? Should he summon yet another autocar and head back to their safe house?

  Bharat started walking, sticking to the middle of the street. Given the lack of traffic, that was the safest place to be, as he would have plenty of warning if anyone rushed him from the alleys. Walking often cleared his head.

  Bharat had walked two blocks without being abducted before his implants picked up the sound of heavy footsteps in the alley to his right. He stopped and faced the alley. He kept his hands visible and waited.

  A chop-haired blonde who Bharat would easily describe as the largest woman he had ever seen stalked out of the alley. She straightened to her full, impressive height, fists clenched. She was dressed for combat, wearing boots and padded body armor, and had a disturbingly large rifle strapped across her back.

  Also, she looked like she wanted to murder him.

  Bharat located a dozen areas of nearby concealment on the street, but cover? That rifle looked big enough to hammer bullets through a biocrete wall. If he ran, the woman would just shoot him in the back, so if it came to a fight, he’d go straight at her. Once he got inside the range of her massive weapon, he was confident he could put her down despite her size.

  Mostly confident.

  “You Bharat?” the woman asked.

  She also knew his name. Interesting. “Yes.” Denying what she already knew would probably anger her more. “And you are?”

  “Did you put torture nanos inside my friend?”

  Bharat’s discussion with Jan inside the Greasy Bowsprit, almost a day ago, came rushing back. “You’re Pollen.” Bharat realized then he might be about to have a very bad day. “To be clear, it was Senator Tarack who forced him—”