“Goddammit, bring him back now, or we’re all dead!” Clay heard the big man screaming, though he thought he might have imagined it. “That sonofabitch!”
He felt electric shocks moving through his body and something warm pumping air into his lungs for him. He heard the big man screaming and the protests of the doctor who, on orders, was trying to restore life into a body that Clay swore he had just left a few moments ago. After an eternity and cocktail of a half-dozen chemicals that surged through his veins, he finally found the strength to open his eyes.
Ness was standing over him, waving the empty case in his face. “It’s not here, Clay! Where did you hide the cipher?!” she screamed.
Clay, still delirious from being dead a few seconds earlier, suddenly remembered. Plan H. He laughed through the agony of being reborn.
“Give him the pain again,” the big man pointed to the doctor and the control panel. The doctor obliged, and instantly, Clay’s nerves lit up with fire just as before. He was too exhausted to bother stifling the scream this time. “The pain will stop when you tell us where the cipher is,” the man shouted.
Clay’s brain wasn’t processing as clearly as before, and half his nerve endings were still dead. The pain was almost laughably nonexistent now. He was simply tired of all of this. His resolve was collapsing. Did it matter if he gave in and handed Keraunos over to them now? Would anyone fault him for cracking under torture? If he died here, on Notosia, then Division 5 would be forced to deny any involvement, and his memory would be persona non grata on Earth. Did he owe any further loyalty to them? He’d already died one pointless death in their service, would a second matter?
There was a low rumble, and the entire room shook. The power flickered, momentarily resetting the equipment and abruptly ending the torture. Clay shook violently and moaned as half his muscles uncramped into needles. The other half stubbornly clung in constricted agony.
“What the hell was that?” Ness shouted as she ran to the door.
A second rumble hit, taking out power entirely. Three seconds later, the room was bathed in the eerie glow of the emergency lights. There was no mistaking the sound.
“Explosive charges. Someone’s breached us from the roof.” The big man said.
An alarm sounded, and shouts and footsteps could be heard further down the hallway. Seconds later, gunfire and determined screams echoed from multiple directions.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Ness started to run for the door, only to stop suddenly when she found herself face to face with four men holding plasrifles. They motioned for the three standing to move to the far wall. One forcibly shoved her into the wall and put the muzzle of the gun to her throat.
They weren’t Tokusha, Clay realized. They were not particularly athletic, almost thin, and wore green worker tunics rather than blue combat suits. Still not sure he was even reading the situation correctly, he struggled to lift his head enough to see what was happening.
Flattop sneered and stepped in front of the others. “You guys realize whom you’ve just attacked, right? We’re not some street gang or startup faction; we’re going to—”
He was cut short with one shot, and his body collapsed to the floor.
“Get him on his feet,” one of the newcomers said to the fat doctor, who fumbled around the table for a hypogun, which he loaded and injected into Clay’s neck.
Instantly, a euphoric numbness spread through his body, unlocking all his muscles and filling him with a warm, almost weightless sensation. The doctor released the restraints and nervously tried to help Clay sit up. While he felt very little pain lying still, moving was nearly unbearable. He felt like the morning after an extreme workout where he’d managed to pull or offend every muscle in his body. He barely found the strength to stand and put on a brave face for his belated rescuers.
The man walked up to him and coldly examined him. There was almost no recognition in her eyes. “You can walk?”
“A marathon would be out of the question until I get to an autodoc, but nothing’s broken. Who exactly are you guys and what are you doing here?”
“Ending this. For that, we need you upstairs.” He said, as if rehearsed, then started for the door, motioning for the remaining two guards to bring Clay. He walked gingerly and slowly, with a pronounced limp. The guards obliged him by putting a hand under each arm and steadying him.
He was rushed up the lift to the top floor and marched down the hallway to what he recognized as Omari’s office once again. On the way, they passed two scruffily dressed soldiers carrying the dead bodies of Omari’s guards out. They entered the office and found her seated behind her desk. Two soldiers had plasrifles trained on her. She had a look of contained outrage upon seeing Clay still alive.
“Hello again, Mr. Clay,” she said, voice wavering only slightly. “You’re looking … well. I must admit, I didn’t expect you to have friends.”
“They’re not my friends. I have no idea who they are.”
“We are the Notosian Liberation Front,” a tall man in a black tactical suit swaggered into the room behind them, took a seat across from Omari and gestured for one of the guards to settle Clay into the other. Then, he removed a puffstick from his shirt pocket and activated it. Clay almost laughed, recognizing the man he knew as Obryn now looking much more the part of a resistance leader than he did back in Berger’s office days earlier. “By way of introduction, you know me as Tarek Saleh.” He smiled warmly, waiting for a reaction.
“I have heard of you, of course,” Omari said graciously. “What do you want?”
Saleh/Obryn smiled wickedly. “We’re going to be partners.”
Omari blinked in feigned confusion. “I’m sorry, most organizations present me with a business plan or a marketing forecast. They don’t come in with guns and—”
He raised his hand, and the soldier next to him handing him a small, card-like piece of metal embossed with ornate symbols. Clay recognized it instantly as the cipher, but in his confusion was completely befuddled as to how it could have ended up here.
Omari fell silent. “Is that–”
“The key to Keraunos,” Saleh said matter-of-factly, nodding his head, then continued, “We were about to agree on how to share in our respective good fortunes.”
Omari sat back and steepled her fingers. “It never does well to throw out the first number in a negotiation, particularly when I don’t even know what Keraunos is.”
“Not to worry. You want me to go first, I get it. The word is Greek for ‘Thunderbolt,’” Saleh said. “Let’sjust say it is a newtech weapon, so fantastic, deadly, and game-changing that the faction that has it will be unstoppable. We have the cipher and the will. You have the resources and production facilities. We can get Keraunos into production and eliminate Prevo, but we must work together. You’ve said this is your ultimate goal, isn’t it?”
“I have the largest, most-loyal army—”
“You have a few strategists recently of competing organizations, yorohito who have likely already been corrupted into pathological soldiers by Prevo, and quite a few Shard addicts who know your supply of their sanity is finite and shrinking every day. Whom do you really trust of those?”
“Certainly not your lot,” Omari said confidently, though her shifting eyeline from Obryn to his guard, to Clay spoke volumes.
“Thank you for confirming that hypothesis.” Obyrn smiled and drew from his puffstick. “However, ‘our lot’ represents the united and loyal forces of Tachibana’s Shadow, Avengers of Red Mountain, Dark Serpent, Jade Shield, and the Gi-no Gunzei, among other smaller factions who see the way the prevailing winds have shifted as of late.”
“So, you expect me to simply fall in line with them?”
“I would not presume to insult you with such a suggestion. I believe I said ‘Partners.’ Simply taking over your operations would alienate many of your key allies, which we both require. No, I believe we can come to an amicable agreement. Otherwise, how long do you think it will be before they come to the same conclusions about your operational strengths that I have. What kind of alternative offers are they likely to present.”
Omari exhaled slowly and considered her options. Finally, she placed both palms down on the desk in front of her. “Combine forces, my indsutry and expertise, your muscle, and maybe pull most of the remaining factions into our fold. Then what, take something like Keraunos into secret production until we’re ready to take on the government? It’s a pipe dream. Even if we manufactured it outside of the system at one of our front companies, you realize how many people would have to keep that a secret from rivals, spies, Mother Eye?”
“True, we have to assume that shortly after we go to production, the secret will be out. Any remaining factions, even the government, will be forced to take us on now before we’re ready. That’s why I intend to put the truth of everything out in the open, now.”
Omari leaded back almost bored. “What are you proposing then?”
“Unity.” Saleh smiled. “All of the Syndicate families and all of the resistance factions together, fighting as one voice, with Keraunos assuring victory. Even if we only get a few of them to agree, Cerberus and Noto Lib combining forces already creates the largest, most efficient fighting force this planet has seen outside of Prevo’s armies.”
“Maybe. It may also make us an even bigger target.”
“Call a meeting for tomorrow night,” Saleh said calmly. “All of the factions’ heads and one other, their most-trusted lieutenant. We will assemble at the Fontaine, on Berger’s neutral ground. You and I will present Cerberus and Noto Lib as a unified force. We present Keraunos. Those who sign with us get a piece of the next phase of Notosia’s history. Maybe some will still refuse, and those will need to be dealt with then and there.” Saleh smiled mischievously. “The point is, after that meeting, there will only be our forces and Prevo’s. Then we all start working together to bring order and stability to this oppressed planet.” He eyed her intently. “Assuming that’s still what you want?”
“I can achieve it on my own terms. I don’t need a room full of fanatics and murderers to—”
Saleh held up the cipher. “Actually, I think you do. As you can see, I have seventy five loyal men controlling your building; controlling you. I’m certain, given enough time, we could find and take Keraunos for ourselves. Perhaps we could take you downstairs and put you to some of the tactics you’ve tried on poor Mr. Clay here.” He smiled and turned to face Clay for the first time, and nodded respectfully. Clay tried to return the gesture but was barely able to sit upright in his chair. Saleh turned back to Omari. “I’m offering a chance for you to be part of the new future we will create for this planet. A future where we are not fighting each other and are united against Prevo and his government.”
“And you think everyone is just going to sit down and join forces because of this Keraunos?”
“I don’t think we’ll ever have a better shot. Right now, the government still things all of the factions are at war with each other. I’m just a myth to them, but believe me, my forces are more closely knit than yours. We just need the two of us to step up and put an end to the infighting. Then, with Keraunos, Prevo himself will be forced to listen.” He stood up. “We have a monopoly on the greatest weapon the galaxy has ever seen. Surely, you can see this is a good deal.”
Omari considered for a long moment and finally nodded in agreement. “I doubt this will be as easy as you think. However, I am willing to play along for the time being.”
© 2024 Darrin Snider. All Rights Reserved.
