As Clay hoped, the starport concourse was busy, but not overly so. He sat in a lounge seat overlooking the lower arrival/departure concourse, waiting for any word from Halferne. It was now two and a half hours since he carefully set up the scene and sent the message, thirty minutes longer than Halferne had indicated he required. Things were not moving as promptly as expected or promised. There could be any number of reasons for the delay, including something as mundane as traffic, but Clay couldn’t help but feel he was being set up. If Prevo had suspected Halferne of consorting with the enemy, it would have been logical for Halferne to get back in his good graces by delivering Keraunos along with the off-world spy to steal it.
Clay scanned the area for enemies but saw nothing that stood out as significant, just the usual Starport Authority personnel on routine stations and patrols. He’d done this enough times to know that they were completely numb to all but the most obvious violations of the law, so his main concern was how long it would take before they flagged Ness’ aircar, just outside, for being unattended and illegally parked.
Ness had confirmed her readiness fifteen minutes ago from a maintenance catwalk in the ceiling overlooking the entire scene. He wouldn’t insult her by asking a third time if she was prepared. He risked looking in her direction a couple of times. He was unable to see her, which was good. However, his ocular implant picked up a definite Ness-shaped heat signature. With luck, his enemies would not be so equipped.
A holodrone circled twice before steadying itself in front of him. The image of Abil Halferne materialized in the seat opposite him at the lounge table, his voice suddenly appearing over the comm he had supplied back at the museum. “Good morning, Mr. Clay.”
“Halferne,” Clay acknowledged, frowning. “Well, this wasn’t exactly part of the plan. I assumed you would be handling this personally.”
“I’m afraid that was never a part of the plan,” Halferne admonished. “Surely you understand my need for discretion, not to mention the personal risk to me should your plan go south, and I find myself in the presence of so many of my enemies.”
Clay nodded. “I also know that if this transaction is as important to you as you say it is, you should limit the number of surprises you spring on me.”
“Or you should learn to be more adaptable, considering what planet you’re on,” Halferne chuckled. “I will be magnanimous and make the first gesture, however. Observe the entrance to Terminal D to your left.”
Clay watched from the corner of his eye as two men dressed in local civilian attire escorted Ursa Venter out of the passageway and directed her to a seat in the middle of the open concourse. She was in visible distress, barely able to walk. When she was placed in a seat, one of her handlers instantly moved away, back to the terminal entrance. The other sat directly across from her and began studying the concourse.
“Your move,” Halferne said, his voice almost a casual song.
Clay studied the girl and furrowed his eyebrows. “The deal mentioned a transport out of here with diplomatic credentials to get us past Gate Station security.”
“A holo display opened between Clay and Halferne, showing an itinerary. Starliner Bashōkajiki departs for the gate station in thirty minutes from Bay 19. You can still make it if you stop wasting time. Ursza’s escort has the credentials and will hand them to you on your way out after we have the datarod.”
Clay nervously scanned the room. Something wasn’t right. Where was Hēi Gēzi? He glanced around at the dozen or so people in the room, supposing any one of them looked like they might be a ninja assassin in their spare time. “The storage lockers on the east end of the concourse. Number 201. Unlock code: 14561.”
Halferne smiled, and the man standing by Terminal A began casually walking towards the row of lockers Clay described.
Ness’ voice suddenly broke into the com in his other ear. “White linen jacket, northwest corner of the room by the merchant’s booths.” Clay caught the man in the corner of his eye. He watched Halferne’s man at the lockers, one hand suddenly moving to his left pocket. He had not yet displayed a weapon.
“Starport Authority,” Halferne said, nodding. Somehow, he was listening to Clay and Ness’s private frequency. The man headed for the lockers suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“My man has him if he makes a move.” Clay began.
Halferne cut him off. “Does your man also have the woman in the leather jacket seated next to Terminal C and the green duster by the main entrance,” the Halferne holo said, still staring aimlessly ahead of him, “or the man in the brown coat who just moved to triangulate her with the locker my man is walking toward?”
Clay scanned and instantly picked out a tall, thin woman sitting at the end of the row of seats just outside the terminal entrance. “Ness, leather jacket, green trench, and brown worker coat?”
“I see them,” came Ness’ slightly delayed response. “Shit. Trench coat looks like he has some serious hardware under that thing.”
“They’re not Starport Authority, and they’re not Tokusha,” Halferne said deadpan. “Probably Cerberus. Your man can’t cover all four.”
“Shit,” Clay swore out loud. If the Tokusha had an agent in the room who hadn’t revealed himself yet, then at least five interested parties were observing the transaction.
“Yes, it does complicate things,” Halferne said. “You only brought one backup. How many shots does poor Ness get before she’s fragged by Cerberus or arrested by Starport Authority? Perhaps now would be the appropriate time to tell me where the real datarod is.”
“What makes you think that’s not it?” Clay asked, impressed.
“First off, I know you’re not very trusting. I offered you the advantage immediately, everything in the open, but you declined and feinted with what must be a decoy, waiting to see what other pieces were on the board. Second, I can be certain that the locker is a decoy because those two Cerberus goons still haven’t made their move, which means they must have seen you set up at least two, possibly more, potential drop locations before you contacted me. You weren’t planning to double-cross me, were you, Mr. Clay?”
Clay sat forward and glared at the holo, hoping Halferne would somehow see deep into his eyes. “You’re one to talk, Halferne. Your boy Ren slipped up. He called me ‘Agent Man’ and remembered I had business with Ursza and Hēi Gēzi when I saw him yesterday. He may keep notes, but he doesn’t write down secrets like those if he’s half as smart as he pretends. No, I think he’s a government listening post and the one who tipped off the Tokusha that I was in Harba City. The girl ensured Keraunos and I got away that time, but now you’re using her to lure me into a trap.”
Halferne’s face sank in terror. “Oh, you may be correct, Mr. Clay, except that Ren’s not one of mine. I didn’t know anything about him until I went to him to send that message. I felt a familiar face might get you to trust me when I said I was on your side.”
Clay froze. “If he was working for the Government, then that means they knew about our meeting at the museum, and no doubt know we’re here now.”
“I don’t see anyone I recognize as being Government.”
“Don’t lie to me, Halferne.”
“I assure you, my intent is honorable. Why do you think I am doing the deal for the datarod and letting you keep the cipher? The data must be destroyed. It’s done too much damage already!”
Clay froze. It never occurred to him to take Halferne at his word.
“Clay, we’ve got minutes. I probably have seconds before they find and arrest me. You have what you need. Now make good on your promise and go!”
Clay rolled his eyes and nodded. “Have your other man move three seats to his left.”
Halferne nodded. Five seconds later, the man guarding Ursza suddenly sat up and moved three seats. As soon as he sat, he pulled out a datapad and pretended to be engrossed in reading. Clay saw his left hand dip under the seat and confirm the presence of the cloth-wrapped package, obviously a small, cylindrical object he had planted there.
“A lucky guess that we would choose that row?” Halferne nodded in sincere respect.
“Given the layout of the room, a wise strategic choice.” Clay raised his glass to the holo and nodded. “Now, Cerberus still has us outgunned, and the Tokusha are probably just waiting to confirm the datarod is in the open. How do we get out of this? Please tell me you have more men hiding away somewhere.”
“I wish I did,” Halferne said sadly. “Have Ness take out my man by the lockers.”
Clay looked at him, astonished.
“This is a chess game, Mr. Clay. If you want to get a winning position and capture the queen, you often need to sacrifice a pawn.”
“This isn’t a game, Halferne. These are people’s lives. I planned a ruse. I didn’t want anyone to get killed.”
Halferne scowled. “No victory on this planet comes without a price, Mr. Clay.”
“I’m beginning to get that, Mr. Halferne.” With that, Clay leaped up, grabbed the holodrone projecting the image of Halferne and smashed it to the floor. With luck, it would mean Halferne could not see and guide his men through what was about to happen. “Ness, take out the leather jacket and grab the datarod.”
“Which one’s the real datarod?” came Ness’ confused reply.
“The only one!”
Instantly, the bundle that Halferne’s man was holding disintegrated as the stuncap inside went off, knocking him back into his seat with the force of an aircar. He slumped over, unconscious. Ursza, barely lucid at the time, didn’t seem to react to the additional pain being added to the agony of her withdrawal.
There was an instantaneous blast from a plasrifle from a position in the roof joists; it struck one meter to the side of the girl in the jacket, who instantly dove for cover. Clay ran for the pedestrian ramp and slid the railing down to the concourse level, watching the entire room for new players or, hoping beyond hope, the sudden arrival of a ninja.
As Ness had expected, the man in the duster produced a plasrifle from under his coat and fired two shots, taking out Halferne’s other man. The other two Cerberus goons were now sprinting for the locker. Meanwhile, the Starport Authority agent in the linen jacket had drawn his sidearm and was firing at Ness on the catwalk above.
Ness continued to lay down fire at the Cerberus agent in the trenchcoat, attempting to keep a rapid shot plasrifle out of the proceedings. She continued to fire at the two by the lockers, however the starport agent had pinned her down, and her fire was completely ineffective. “Dammit, Clay, he got my leg! You’ll have to get the datarod yourself.”
Clay ignored her, anticipating her response. He leaped off the ramp, hit the ground, and sprinted for Ursza, who still seemed oblivious to her surroundings. From behind him, multiple shots rang out, passing inches over his shoulder. He dove for cover, sliding between the rows of seats, stopping centimeters from where Ursza sat.
“Come on, we’ve got to get you out of here!” Clay shouted.
Ursza showed only the slightest hint of recognition as she slid out of her seat, crouching for cover next to Clay, who motioned toward the exit to Terminal A ahead of them. They crawled on hands and knees through the smoke cloud until they were out of the concourse. As they exited to relative safety, In the corner of his eye, Clay saw the female Cerberus agent had opened the locker and was putting the datarod in her inside pocket.
Once out of the main concourse, a squad of four guards ran toward them. “Female, black leather jacket and a male in a trenchcoat. They set off a bomb and are armed!” Seeing that he had no weapons of any kind on him, the guards ran past him and into the concourse. Clay helped Ursza to her feet and directed her straight for an exit door. They found themselves on a loading platform outside the terminal, mere meters from Ness’s waiting aircar.
He helped Ursza into the passenger seat, not sure if she was coherent enough to understand what was happening to her. “Stay with me, kid. I’ll get you back on your feet as soon as we’re clear of danger,” he promised as he strapped her in and took position in the driver’s seat.
Punching the throttle, he lifted the aircar nearly straight up and away from the starport. He looked over at Ursza, who was looking out the side window, head lolled to one side, seemingly oblivious and completely unaffected by his airsick-worthy maneuvers and the earlier unpleasantness in the starport concourse.
“East,” she said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone.
“Away from the metroplex?! Shouldn’t we lose ourselves in the crowd? Maybe get back to Harba City?”
“East,” she repeated, with slightly more effort than her previous instruction.
© 2024 Darrin Snider. All Rights Reserved.
