Jeff Kozzi
Chapter 133: Men with A Mission
Intergal 11:4:62198Bolas flew top speed to the West Station Holding, linked hand to hand with his wife’s son, who held the Chrid firmly between his teeth.
Blane’s preparedness had saved them several times, for the Kajerists were on alert. They had been noticed, and fired upon.
They frequently passed above streets that clearly showed signs of previous battle and alarm among the Kajerists. Luckily, few enforcers paid attention to the smoggy skies, and the two flying humans passed by unobserved. Bolas didn’t want to stop and fight. When enforcers did take notice of them, Blane raised defensive shields and retaliated with smatterings of fireballs, rays, and beams while Bolas willed more output from the mechanical pushers in his feet. They pierced the air more quickly, continuing their hasty progress unhindered.
"I think there should be a sign that says ‘Kass Kolten was here’," Bolas remarked to the enforcers’ confusion.
Blane mumbled incomprehensible agreement past the thin handle of the Chrid.
The smog-dimmed flare of the commtower’s destruction glowed beneath them. "Wonder what that one was," Bolas said.
"I hoennoe."
"You know, Blane, I like it when your mouth’s too full for you to talk."
"Hrig hoo."
"That’s the station there." Bolas circled above the small prison, inspecting the roof. The top of the building seemed empty, and there would be no reasonable way for anyone to get there—or for anyone to get into the holding from it. Naturally-flighted people typically didn’t like Shelswun; the dark and dank skies choked flight and spectacle. Without a roof entrance, Bolas realized they’d have to use the main entrance. They’d need to capture another guard or someone; they didn’t know what cell Veronika would be in. Or if she truly was in the holding.
He circled the building once more. In addition to the main entrance, there was an emergency exit and a freight dock. Both sides would be alarmed; they might never reach Veronika if they set off an alarm just entering the building. Use of the main entrance would give them maximum element of surprise.
"We’re going to have to go through the front. Seeing you won’t be recognized as readily as I would, you’ll go in first. They’ll ask you what you want. You tell them your sister was picked up for prostitution, got it?"
"Mmm- hmn."
"They’ll be scanning for weapons. You’ll have to leave the Chrid with me."
"Har hoo hriggin hwrazee?"
"Yup. Slip one of your gloves in the door. It should break the connection, and I’ll be able to open it without any noise. I’ll have you covered, Blane. Trust me."
"Har hoo hriggin hwrazee?"
Bolas slowed and made a two-point landing. Blane dropped the Chrid from his mouth and caught it in his hand. Bolas looked to the younger man, all hope of rescuing his wife placed in him. "You know what to do?"
"Duh, no know, boss. Duh, maybe you should, like, go through it again. One-sound words, like. Then I can unnerstan."
"Get in there before I give you a kick in the ass."
Blane handed Bolas the Chrid and paced away, pulling off his gloves.
"You little slob! The handle’s all wet!"
Blane wondered how Femmer, with her espionage training and experience, would handle a mission like this. He suspected she could carry this off better than either Bolas or himself. He wished Emkay was with them. They were at the mercy of the information coerced from the Kajerist, and Blane could not convince himself of much reliability in that, no matter the means in which Bolas had obtained it.
West Station Holding was a civilian jail. David Hessler’s original deal with the Kajerists had turned all of Shelswun’s policing actions over to the imperials. The Holding was staffed with Kajerists.
It was nokturn shift. Blane could see only three deskmen on duty behind the plax. That didn’t mean that others didn’t work further inside the three-story building. He recognized how uninformed he and Bolas had been, and found himself wishing for Femmer and Emkay again. Even Kass was better at sneaky assaults and talking his way in and out of situations. Blane realized that due to his tactlessness and the Chrid’s sheer power, his own abilities were best utilized in head-on confrontations.
The Jadan officer peered through the clear door at Blane. His voice crackled through the comm. "What do you want, boy?"
"Hi, uh, sir. I’m looking for my sister. Half sister, really. Brought in for prostitution."
The Orfezzin officer who sat at a desk to the rear of the room laughed. "Hey, she the one that offered to blow her way out of here?"
Blane shrugged helplessly. "Probably. She never did have mush taste. I told our ma to let her stay here, but she wouldn’t have it."
The Orfezzin scratched his bone faceplate in search of the insult. "Poor family need the money?" the fat Jadan asked with a chuckle while he pressed a button under the desk. The door told him to enter. Blane pushed it open, and turned to close it gently, catching his glove between the latch and plate.
"What’s your sister’s name?" the Jadan demanded.
Blane drew a blank.
"I asked you a question, snot!"
"—uh—" Blane was sure that Bolas must not have counted on the enforcers being agreeable.
The Jadan stepped away from the counter. The Ortezzin and the third enforcer, a Turd, both rose from their seats, their hands falling their holstered lasertrons. Blane dove for the floor, pushing himself against the high counter.
Bolas Scharo threw himself against the door even while he released a quick volley of thin lasers from the Chrid. Blane’s glove fell as the door swung open. Several lasers followed Bolas in from the outside. Blane twisted toward Bolas and tripped the cyborg with his own legs. Bolas fell. The blasts from the three deskmen passed over his head. Bolas fumbled to give Blane the Chrid and unholster his lasertron.
They reached the middle of the floor. Blane released several bursts from the Chrid at the enforcers charging from outside. Bolas fired a round of shots at the deskmen. Blane moved for the door. His glove had fallen straight to the floor, and held the door open for unhindered pursuit.
Bolas activated his pushers, accenting his leap to bound the desk. He shot the Turd.
Blane snatched his glove and pushed against the door, but the enforcers were pushing against it from the opposite side. There were more of them, most larger and more overpowering than Blane.
Bolas kicked the Jadan in the face and spun to target the Orfezzin. His shot was accurate, but late. An alarm blared throughout the building, surely connected to the Kajerists’ citywide policing network.
Blane cornered himself between the door and wall, pushing his legs against the latter with his back braced against door, leverage his only advantage.
The Orfezzin was on his hands and knees gasping for breath. Bolas kicked his lasertron away then landed his boot in the wide seat of the enforcer’s pants, sending him sprawling forward.
The Orfezzin’s prehensile tail caught Bolas’ leg, pulled it out from under him and grappled for Bolas’ lasertron. Bolas proved quicker and stronger. His shot burned through the Orfezzin’s faceplate and out the back of his head.
Bolas stood, spun, and fired a round of lasers to the enforcers against the door.
The door slid shut under Blane’s pressure as the enforcers fell away. The young man rose to his feet instantly, and threw himself over the counter. Bolas moved for the information terminal. Blane released a burst of heat from the Chrid, melting the door into the frame.
"We gotta move! No doubt that alarm transferred."
"What cell’s she in?"
"Back door!"
Blane spun and released a series of bursts from the Chrid, cutting down the two Gundorins who had advanced from within the building.
"She’s not in here!" Bolas growled. "Not under Scharo, Masi, or Webster!"
Blane looked at the screen. "Call up a list of all prisoners—race and gender, cross-reference."
Bolas did, quickly. Sirens surrounded the building. He could hear commanders shouting orders. "Five human females! Two on first, two on second, and one on third!"
"Third!"
"They hid her on purpose! If you hadn’t coerced that enforcer back at Mital, we wouldn’t found her!" Blane said, still not positive his acknowledge of Bolas’ success brought approval of the tactics.
"Won’t help if we can’t get her out alive!" Bolas snapped, running through the back door and up the ramp.
Blane followed, pushing ahead of the older man. "Let me lead! I can raise a defense faster!"
Bolas overtook Blane on the ramp. "We’re more likely to be shot in the back when they break through the security door!"
They reached the third floor in less than a minute. The security door to the cell block was looked.
"Stand back!" Blane ordered, raising the Chrid.
Tightening his hold on his lasertron, Bolas stepped aside.
Blane leveled the door with a single massive burst of the Chrid and ran through the gaping hole. Bolas followed. Kajerist procedure to leave the doors of unoccupied cells open made their search easier.
Only one door was closed. They ran to it.
"I’m kicking myself for not grabbing keys from the desk!" Bolas said.
"I’ll kick you for you later. It’s under control now." Blane gripped the Chrid.
Bolas grasped his wrist. "Any discharge might hurt her!"
They heard a clutter at the ramp as a squad of enforcers raced up it.
"I think I can control it," Blane said. "We don’t have time, Bo!"
Bolas yelled at the door. "Ronnie, baby, stand back!"
Blane held the cupped end of the Chrid to the corner between the door and the frame and released a short series of bursts. Sparks issued from the scepter. Both men jumped back.
The noise on the ramp grew louder and closer.
The door fused. The lock melted. The door swung open.
Blane Kajer and Bolas Scharo forgot their pursuers. Each drew a breath. Blane looked into the cell for his mother. Bolas looked into the cell for his wife.
They looked from the cell to each other, back to the cell, then again back to each other.
They shouted in unison:
"She’s gone!!"
The enforcers burst into the cellblock and opened fire.