Lieutenant Deb Spiro watched the ground swell as she peered over Ensign Makarov’s shoulder. The impenetrable forest stretched endlessly in all directions, while below the rectangle of cleared land seemed impossibly small, a tiny pinprick of human intervention in an ocean of clumpy greens.
“Talbot, you’re going to feel even smaller and more helpless,” Spiro promised. “You worthless piece of shit, you’re about to lose even this fruitless refuge.”
“Where do you want me to set down?” Makarov asked. “On the old shuttle landing?”
Spiro considered the compound as they circled the dome atop its tower. By damn, the ensign was right. There it was. A shuttle port where there had been none before. She’d thoroughly studied the reconnaissance images. There had been buildings there, and she damned well knew it.
“Yeah. If that’s their invite, we’ll take it. If they’re planning a trap, let’s spring it. Can you scan for explosives in case they mined it?”
“Sure. I can hit it with ground penetrating radar when we’re at thirty meters. Any recent excavation will show up as a hot spot, and an explosives packet will have a different signature entirely.”
“Do it. What do your thermal sensors show? I want to know just how many people are down there. Where they’re hiding.”
“You got it, Lieutenant.” At his command, the sensor projections switched to a thermal image of the compound. “I’ve got two people, both adults, on the ground. Down south, at the edge of the tree line, I’ve got another adult and a bunch of what appears to be children. Seven of them. Shooting my projector through the dome, I’ve got what looks like two children in an upper bedroom and another adult in the base of the dome.”
“That’s it?” Spiro asked, glancing back at her four marines.
“That’s it.” Makarov sounded sure of himself.
“Damn, and I thought this was going to be difficult. Take us down. Scan the shuttle field, and if it’s clear, put us down. Right up close.”
“Affirmative, Lieutenant.”
Spiro kept glancing at the lateral sensors, reading the little blips that indicated electrically powered machines, thermal signatures from water lines, cisterns, and different pieces of equipment. She saw nothing that resembled a missile, artillery tube, or potential threat to the shuttle. But then, way out here, they’d have never thought they’d be found.
“No sign of buried explosives, Lieutenant.” Makarov had his eyes fixed on his screens.
She watched through the forward transparency as they dropped down past the dome. Makarov neatly maneuvered them onto the pad, setting them down like a feather onto a pillow.
“All right, people,” Spiro called over the turbines as she clipped her helmet to her belt and stood. “We’re just here for Talbot. Ordering him back to duty. Smile. Be friendly. Supervisor Aguila doesn’t want any trouble.”
“Right, Lieutenant,” Michegan called back. “We’re all warm and cuddly.”
“Weapons hot?” Chavez asked.
“Chambered, safeties on, and slung,” she decided. “If by some chance we end up in the shit, we’ll have it figured in plenty of time to unsling, pull ’em up, and start shooting.”
“Helmets?” Private Nashala asked.
“Clipped to your belts. We want them to see people, not faceless warriors. Just being in armor sends all the message we need.”
“Roger that, Lieutenant,” Miso replied as she headed for the ramp.
The thrusters had spooled down and a curious silence filled the shuttle. Palm hovering over the hatch release, Spiro couldn’t help but smile. “Talbot, you poor son of a bitch.”
She slapped the button. Hydraulics whined, and the hatch lowered to the newly baked clay.
The fresh odors of forest, moisture, and flowering plants carried past the acrid smell from the thrusters.
Spiro led the way down the ramp, her right hand on her rifle sling. Damn Talbot, anyway. She’d ended up in the shit because the moron had deserted in the first place, then brought a fucking quetzal into the hospital in the second. And, pus-bucket-fuck-up that it had been, she’d seen him through the window: An armed deserter, holding a weapon in an engaged position, not more than a meter and a half from the Supervisor. Looked just like a hostage situation.
Of course, she’d shot him.
“Wish I’d taken a half second longer to aim,” she muttered. If she’d killed his ass, she’d have had more time to go after the quetzal. And that slit, Perez, would never have snuck up behind her.
She stepped out on the Mundo landing pad, taking a slow scan of the weathered buildings, the parked and tarped equipment. “Ensign Makarov? What do your sensors tell you?”
“Got two people moving in your direction. Neither is carrying anything resembling a weapon, Lieutenant. The closest is going to appear around that big white shop at your ten o’clock.”
“Roger that.”
Spiro started for the corner of the building. What looked like an old-fashioned water pump sat slightly to the right. A desolate tractor, missing wheels, rested on blocks to the left.
Right on schedule a woman wearing a smock dress woven of some brown material appeared around the corner of the shop. Spiro figured her at about one hundred ninety centimeters, definitely mature. Maybe in her late forties. The woman’s thick dark-brown hair had started to gray, and her face was weathered.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m Lieutenant Spiro. I need to speak with Private Mark Talbot. Corporate business. Doesn’t concern you.”
“The Corporation has no business here, Lieutenant. You are on private property. Not only did you not request permission to land, but you did so without so much as announcing your arrival. That being the case, we ask that you turn right around and leave.”
Spiro tensed, a quiver of annoyance triggering a nerve in her cheek. “And just who are you?”
“I’m Rebecca Smart. Call me the village elder. Head of the family. And you, Lieutenant Spiro, are trespassing.”
Spiro fought down her rising anger. “Rebecca Smart? Maybe you’ve been taking your name too seriously. Bucking me and my marines is anything but smart. Actually, you’re full of shit. This is Corporate property. That’s the Supervisor’s jurisdiction. And I’m here on her business. That being the case, we’ll fly where we want. Land where we want. Additionally we expect Corporate contractees to comply with orders. Private Talbot is under my command. I need to speak with him.”
“You say you value contractual obligations? Is that correct?”
“Damn straight, as they say here.”
The woman smiled slightly. From a pocket she produced a sheaf of papers. “This was Corporate property, Lieutenant. Right up until your Supervisor brokered a deal with Port Authority to recognize properly filed deeds and titles to land, improvements, and equipment. I assume that, as a commanding officer, you’re familiar with what a properly filed deed looks like? That you recognize Yvette Dushane’s signature?”
Spiro glared, shot a suspicious glance at the paper the woman flourished. “Why don’t you hand that over so I can take a good look at it?”
“Of course. Keep in mind, Lieutenant, that is only a copy. We keep the originals in a safe place, and its duplicate is on file in Yvette’s records in Port Authority.”
Spiro took the papers, scanning the contents. Could have been space shit for all she knew. She handed the papers back, saying, “I know bullshit when I hear it. We’re not here to start a ruckus. We just need Mark Talbot.”
“Thought Dya and the Supervisor had a deal.”
“The deal was that Talbot wouldn’t be charged with desertion and dereliction of duty. Now, Supervisor Aguila has kindly agreed, in her own words, ‘that due to the special circumstances, Private Talbot has been on extended leave.’ That leave is hereby cancelled, and Private Talbot is required to return to his duty.”
The woman crossed her arms. “We do not give him permission to leave. We will, however, offer the Supervisor compensation, to be mutually agreed upon, for Talbot’s contract. Included in that will be Mark’s willing agreement to teach the Supervisor’s people survival skills, and to share his observations on forest ecology.”
Spiro blinked. “Lady, are you right in the head? This is not a fucking negotiation. I’m here for my marine, and I’m damned well going to get him.”
“As one of the governors of Mundo Base, I am ordering you, and your people, to get back on that shuttle and fly your asses out of here.”
“Or what?”
“We will file charges against you to be decided at an inquest. I would suggest Inga’s in Port Authority as neutral ground. Shig and Yvette can act as—”
“Fuck that. Miso!”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Line out. Search the grounds. Don’t break anything. Don’t hurt anyone. Just find Talbot wherever that coward toilet-sucker has gone to ground.”
“Roger that,” Miso called. “Squad. Fan out. Search the premises!”
Spiro reached out with an armored hand and effortlessly pushed the woman out of her way. Made sure she didn’t fling her against the shop wall like a rag doll. See? Deb Spiro could control her reflexes when she . . .
“Belay that order!” came a shouted command, and from behind a shed at the edge of the shuttle pad, an armored marine stepped out, rifle shouldered and at the ready. “Stop where you are,” Talbot’s voice thundered through his helmet speakers.
“Talbot, you piece of shit,” Spiro said, wheeling, pawing for her weapon.
“Stand down, Deb.” Talbot’s speaker voice boomed. “I mean it. You take one more move, and I’ll discharge a full magazine of AP into the shuttle thrusters. It’s just a couple of ounces on the trigger. That’s all it will take.”
Spiro stared in disbelief. Took in the angle of his stance, his shouldered weapon’s aim. Damn him, he wouldn’t!
“You shot me, Deb. From behind. When all I was trying to do was keep a little girl alive.” She could hear the stress in Talbot’s voice. “Now, the Supervisor made a deal with the Donovanians that she’d honor their contracts. We’ve got you on video and audio not only saying that you won’t honor those contracts, but physically pushing Rebecca out of the way. An unarmed woman who offered to deal fairly with the Supervisor.”
Spiro took a hard breath, felt the frustration as it burned through her breast.
“Lieutenant?” Miso asked softly from behind.
“Don’t even think it, Katsuro.” Talbot called. “You and I, we were on opposite sides when Cap left. You were right. I was wrong. The rest of you, do you understand? We’re willing to broker a deal to buy out my contract. I have that right under Corporate law.”
Spiro blinked. Felt herself reeling. This was going right to shit. Aguila had given her a simple order. Get Talbot. Bring him back without fucking things up. And here they were, already fucked up.
“Talbot,” she said past gritted teeth, “you come back and tell her yourself. I’m giving you an order, Marine.”
“I’m on private property, Deb. I resign. Now, load up and fly out of here. Give Kalico our offer.”
“I’m not your fucking errand boy, Mark!”
“No. You’re an officer serving the Supervisor. Do your damn job.”
Spiro realized she was blinking, that the woman, Rebecca, was watching her with knowing eyes.
“Not one word, slit,” Spiro growled at her, the rage furnace-hot inside her.
“Leave us,” Rebecca said firmly. “Before this gets out of your control.”
In Spiro’s ear, Makarov’s voice said, “Lieutenant, that other woman off to the left just pulled a weapon from where it was hidden inside the piece of equipment she’s behind. I’m reading a thermal source.”
“Squad, helmets on. Prepare to deploy . . .”
She felt the hot spot the minute it lit up her cheek. Almost burning. Took a half second to recognize—then she was back in training. Feeling it again for the first time.
Deb Spiro’s heart flipped in her chest, a desperate fear running cold in guts that, but an instant ago, had been fiery in anger.
“That’s right,” Talina Perez called from behind the old pump off to the left. “You know that feeling, don’t you? Self-guided heat-seeking round, and we both know it’s locked.”
“Perez, you back-shooting cunt!” Spiro swallowed hard. The frustration built, bringing tears to her eyes. “I’m going to cut your damned heart out!”
“Not today, Deb.” Talina’s voice had no give. “You heard Rebecca’s reasonable offer. Talbot’s, too. You’re in violation of Kalico’s agreement. Violating our agreement with her.”
The hot spot on her cheek had shifted slightly to the bone just under Spiro’s left eye.
“Deb,” Talbot called. “We’ve been reasonable. You push this, and Talina blows your head off. That happens and I shoot the shit out of the shuttle. Then whatever’s left of the marines takes me out, kills Perez and a bunch of women and children.”
He paused, then added, “Your call.”
“Lieutenant,” Miso said softly. “Speaking for the rest of us, we don’t want it going down that way. Right, guys?”
A series of muttered assents came from her squad.
“Talbot?” Dina Michegan called, “We’re standing down. No tricks. We’re backing to the ramp and back into the shuttle. Don’t, for God’s sake, shoot it full of holes!”
“Roger that, Dina.” Talbot’s voice sounded slightly weak, as if he’d lowered the suit volume. “I’ll stand you all to a round in Inga’s one of these days.”
Spiro stood as if rooted, trembling, gut muscles pulled tight as she glared her hatred at where Talina Perez watched her through the sights of a rifle that she’d propped atop the old tractor body.
The bitch has a self-guided heat-seeking round? Imfuckingpossible!
The heat spot that now moved to her nose proved otherwise.
Spiro took a deep breath, managed to nod, to wave her defeat as she turned, started to plod toward the shuttle.
“I can’t let it end this way. I just fucking can’t.” The feeling was as if someone else, a stranger, had suddenly taken control of her brain. Like nothing mattered anymore. Like she wasn’t even Deb Spiro. That the life she’d thought hers had just turned into illusion. A disjointed dream.
She fought to control the muscles twitching in her face, felt the spot on her cheek cooling now that she was no longer facing that deadly round. Didn’t matter if it was targeting on her armor. She could take the hit. But if it was her hair? Could she feel it? Was it even now burning there?
At the ramp, she slumped, unslung her rifle, and looked back. Talbot still stood, rock steady. His rifle unwavering where it targeted the shuttle engines. Shit. AP rounds would have shredded the delicate fans.
Deb took a step, hesitated.
There. Look at that. She squinted, seeing the fucking little quetzal that appeared from between the buildings. Had to be the same one that started the commotion back at hospital. The little beast that had ruined her. The one that started her down the road that led to this shit.
“If you fail, don’t bother to come back.”
Across the distance, no more than twenty yards, she stared into the creature’s curious eyes.
“Fuck you,” she growled, flipped her rifle up, and shot the beast through the body. She saw the thing flip up in the air, come down kicking.
Then she was inside, calling, “Makarov! Spool up! Get us the hell out here!”
Slapping the ramp control, she slung her rifle to clatter its way across the bay, and stomped past her mutinous marines.
“Thanks for everything back there,” she told them as she bulled her way forward past their seats.
Throwing herself into the commander’s chair, she glared out the window at the dome looming above the shops. “Wish this was a military shuttle. We’d leave this whole shithole smoking.”
“Back to Corporate Mine?” Makarov asked, voice toneless. He sat, eyes forward, hands on the controls as the thrusters began to spool up.
“Port Authority,” she snapped. There wouldn’t be any going back to Corporate Mine. Not for Deb Spiro, anyway.