Ripples: Chapter 5
25 Jan 2019MMMMMalcolm
“Is everything ready?” DeMarr asked his men, as they were hooking up the final set of tubes and wires to the ejected safe-house delivered a day ago by Agent One who had made himself scarce.“Yes, sir.” The engineer nodded. “Took some time for us to break through the outer plating, but all the auxiliary oxygen tanks are now hooked to the system as you specified.”
DeMarr nodded solemnly. “Good. You’re dismissed then, I can take it from here.”
“Sir.” The engineer nodded and motioned his men to follow him.
After the engineers had left, DeMarr walked to a comms system nearby, and keyed in a contact. Pausing for a second in thought, he finally pushed the button and waited for someone to answer on the other side.
The wait was tortuously long.
Come on. Come on. Pick up, I know you are just dying to find out what it is I want to talk to you about he thought.
The call was finally answered, and a hazy figure of a man appeared on the screen.
“What do you want?” he asked with a harsh voice.
“Drusus.” DeMarr said amicably with a smile.
“Don’t you ‘Drusus’ me.” The man snapped. “You shouldn’t be calling me. You shouldn’t be calling any of us.”
DeMarr raised an eyebrow, there was an edge to the man’s voice. Something else than simple anger…fear?
“Corlington is dead…and so is Raedius.” The man said with a hoarse whisper. “Someone is hunting us.”
“Come on.” DeMarr said with a snort. “You always were paranoid. Last I heard Corlington had gone pirate – that’s not exactly a ticket to a long life – and as for Raedius, he too was fraternizing with people who are not known for their civility. They just ran out of luck.”
“You think so?” The man said angrily. “I knew Raedius and I knew what he was doing and where he was going. I sent people after him when he didn’t return on schedule. They found this.”
Images flashed on the screen, a prefab lab setup of some kind, with a man – or remains of one – strapped onto an examination table. IV tubes with greenish sludge ran to his arm, his distorted face was greenish-grey and rigor mortis had frozen a horrid scream of agony on his white lips. It was Raedius – barely recognizable but recognizable nevertheless. DeMarr swallowed.
“Could still be a coincidence.” He said.
“There’s no such thing as a coincidence.” The man snapped and reached for the screen.
“Wait!” DeMarr said, he knew he needed this man to have a chance of getting out of this situation and into his retirement.
“Are you still connected to the Patreus political machine?” He asked. The man’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s it to you?”
“I have something for you. Something that top politicians in the Empire might be interested in having.”
The man retracted his arm and tilted his head, his eyes glimmering.
“What are you playing at?” He asked.
DeMarr smiled. “I managed to get a fish. A big fish. A fish that just might have all kinds of intel regarding Federal business operations and their connections with Federal politicians. Something, I’m sure, the good Senator Patreus’ people could use. And I’m willing to deliver, in return of a hefty reward, a full pardon in Imperial space and a nice bungalow in an imperial earth-like of my choice.”
“I see.” The man crossed his fingers below his chin. “The fish got a name?”
“Anthony Wantz.”
*****
"Hello Mr. Wantz.” DeMarr’s voice crackled through the speakers into the ejectable safe-house of Anthony Wantz.
“I’m sure you feel quire safe now. A type 3 safe-house is a difficult nut to crack. Forcing our way into your small little bunker would be inconvenient and possibly deadly to you. And waiting out until you ran out of oxygen or supplies would be equally inconvenient. What do you have, three months worth of rations?”
Wantz didn’t answer.
“Oh, just in case you’re wondering.” DeMarr continued. “We found and disabled the beacon. No one’s coming for you.”
“What do you want?” Wantz finally spoke through clenched teeth into the comms.
“Oh, the usual. Peaceful retirement, a bungalow in a nice earth-like and a hefty bank account. All these I had coming, until some cronies of yours intervened. So I think it’s only fair that you compensate me for my trouble.”
Wantz laughed. “You won’t get a credit from me, you scum.”
“Credits? Oh Mr. Wantz, you lack imagination. I don’t want your credits, the Empire is going to give me all the credits I need. What I need from you, is a full account of your dealings with the Federal government and any and all connections you, your business associates and companies have with them.”
Wantz laughed again. “Never.”
“Yes, I knew you’d say that.” DeMarr said calmly and continued, “But you see what’s interesting? Though you yourself are tucked in nice and safe in that little cube of yours, the fact that you can last 3 months there means that your safe-house needs to have several auxiliary O2 supply tanks strapped within its superstructure. Not only that, because of the fire hazard pure oxygen causes, these tanks need to be well isolated from the internal electric systems. This means that it was far easier for us to access them.”
Wantz swallowed. “What are you planning? Suffocating me? Go ahead, I’ll gladly suffocate before telling you anything.”
“I know, and no. I do not plan to suffocate you. In fact I do not plan to harm you at all – well, not physically. You see I have access to several consciousness-altering chemicals, many of which can be delivered via the air. Within the hour, Mr. Wantz, you will tell me all I want. And you’ll do it happily. You won’t even suffer any permanent damage. Well, not physical damage at least. And not unless you count a potential addiction to mind-altering substances a physical harm, but we all have our burdens to bear. Shall we begin?”
Wantz heard a slight hiss from his safe-house's air vents.
*****
Kay Wantz couldn’t wait any longer. There were a number of systems that had some correlation to the cryptic directions DeMarr gave his lackey. Most were hundreds of light years away and it would take time to have local authorities allocate manpower to drop what they were doing to verify their hunches. She felt helpless, so Malcolm suggested they take a more active role in the search.
“I thought you’d never ask! Another minute and I would have literally pulled my hair out. If anything happens to my father Malcolm…” She let the thought drop as fear, anger, and frustration pushed tears to the corners of her eyes. He wanted to say something to alleviate her anxiety, but he knew it would be pointless. He was just as worried as she was. He never told Kay but he was rather fond of Mr. Wantz. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as he pulled her into a calming hug; as much for himself as it was for her.
“Come on,” was all he said. Then they turned to leave Reynoso’s office.
“Where are you going?”
“We’re feeling a little claustrophobic in here,” Malcolm replied. “Not to mention useless. We’re going to go stretch our legs a bit.”
“Well don’t go too far. We’ll be skids up the moment my people have something.”
They returned to their Krait MK II and were just about to request permission to exit the docking bay when the Captain came running onto the landing pad. He had replaced his Alliance issued uniform with a suit Remlok makes exclusively for security personnel and a repulsor rifle attached to his back. The man was a good ten years older than the pair, but if he was winded by his urgency they didn’t see it. He just quietly stowed his rifle in a weapons locker and strapped into the empty copilot’s seat.
“We caught a break. A merc wearing battle armor was spotted in the Hera system; a system less than twenty light years from here.”
"So, what makes you so sure he's OUR merc?"
"Well, aside from there being no conflicts within sixty light years of there, Hera is the wife of Zeus -the god of thunder. I assume that’s where you two were planning to stretch your legs?"
“It is now.”
*****
Malcolm and Kay exchanged their Remlok suits for the all black, lightweight battle armor Quentin Ramsey loaded in the cargo hold. Once suited, they each strapped a modified repulsor rifle to their backs and a laser pistol to their hips. Out on the landing pad they caught up to Captain Reynoso as he briefed five security officers assigned to assist him.
“The target knows the location of a prominent galactic citizen that’s been kidnapped so we want him alive. Anyone who gets trigger happy will have to answer to me. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes sir!”
“Good.” He turned to the new arrivals. “The merc is at a nearby bar called the ‘Green Keg’. Security has the place surrounded to prevent new patrons from entering and they have orders to await my arrival before THEY enter. The target doesn’t appear to know he’s been cornered yet.”
The captain led the group of seven past the barricade and into the bar. Whatever euphoria the startled patrons felt faded as quickly as they exited the establishment. The bartender slipped from behind his bar to follow his customers, but not before grabbing a comm device and the contact for his insurance company. Malcolm and Kay stood behind the merc still seated at the bar sipping a whiskey. Kay had taken Malcolm’s pistol and along with her own pointed them at the back of the criminal’s helmeted head. The five officers took positions around the empty bar placing their target in a crossfire. Confident he had complete control of the situation, Reynoso took a seat one barstool away from his quarry.
“The lady here is looking for her father. She seems to believe you know where he is.”