THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS
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Chapter 18 -
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Jeeter was getting a really sore ass. If they were gonna do very mucha this skimmer shit, he was gonna demand a jump seat. Not only was the floor plates ah the storage area hard steel, Lady was hedge hopping at full speed 'cross one devil's spine after another and slide slipping through the gullies. Thank the Blessed Mother, he'd had the chance to get something for his stomach outa the BC's med locker before they left it.
Thinking about the BC gave him a real warm feeling inside. He'd thought she was nothing but a slab and gantry tail stander. But coming down, she'd turned into the sweetest little belly flopper he'd every seen. Once she got enough atmosphere to bite, she handled like a skimmer, came down flat and easy in a slot no bigger than she was. And not a sign ah it on the outside until you needed it. The things a raider could do with a sweet piece like her.
Lady made another violent maneuver and Jeeter tightened his hold on the cargo net. Damn Barrol! How did he do that? Sitting there all calm, cool and easy; his body matching the skimmer's moves like he was just another piece ah the thing. And what was going on between him and Lady? Oh, they was polite to each other and that was the thing. No teasing, no smart-ass remarks from Barrol, no special voice for him from Lady. They weren't fighting. They still had the same wanting looks for each other when the other wasn't looking. But all business and polite when they were.
Maybe it was just because everything was so serious. They had a tracker and spy-ware on the Hole. Lady had come back from the infirmary wearing that damn earring again. Barrol was being forced to reveal one ah his safe places, risk some ah his friends getting pulled into this trouble. But there was something odd in Barrol's eyes when he looked at Lady; something that made Jeeter think that whatever was going on with 'em was personal. It also looked to Jeeter like the Big Guy was the one having trouble with it and that was funny as hell.
What wasn't funny was finally being able to see Barrol's eyes. Jeeter had figured that it would be better than those look-back-at-yourself shades. He'd been wrong. Except for the brief flashes ah warm emotion directed at Lady's back, it was like looking into a midnight jungle; onyx and beryl with quick death hidden in the dark behind it. Now, Lady's were beautiful; like sea and sky all swirled together. Fit her better that the plain brown-green hazel that she'd been born with. But, then when you thought about it, so did Barrol's; fit him to a 'T'. And Lady had picked 'em out for him. Sheeze. Jeeter wondered if she saw the same thing in 'em that he did.
Suddenly they were down and rolling along like a ground car. If the drop hadn't been hard enough on Jeeter's abused butt, the road they were on wasn't much better than a couple ah ruts in the ground with some gravel thrown in their direction. Lady was still driving hell bent for the horizon and, trying to adjust to this uneven terrain, the stabilizers were rocking the skimmer from side to side like a hooch dancers hips. Meds or no, if this didn't stop soon, he was going to puke. To his great relief, Lady began slowing down. A lota that relief disappeared when, topping a hill, Lady came to a complete halt then took the skimmer off ah the road and behind a cluster of trees.
"Barrol, you better take a look at this. That peaceful, isolated compound we're supposed to be able to just walk into is surrounded by blips."
As Barrol shifted over, Jeeter moved to look over Lady's other shoulder. Holy Mother Mary, it looked like a fire-fly convention. His stomach problem disappeared. Funny how that always happen to him when the enemy was spotted.
"All those cars, damn, they gota have a full regiment around the place."
"Not cars, Jeeter. I set the scan for infra-red at human-normal range. We have forty men. From the movements I've observed, half are coming in from the outside and replacing the other half in a perimeter around the main residence. I would speculate that it's a siege situation but these are your friends, Barrol, it's your call."
Barrol didn't react, just kept looking at the security screen. Jeeter knew this one. Let the enemy get settled in. Let him get nice and comfortable watching his target. Then, slither around to his backside and do him. The blips cooperated. The incoming matched up with those already there. For a minute or two nothing moved. Then, blips started moving out. They gathered in four groups on the far side of the compound and began disappearing. Lady fiddled with the keyboard. Four larger, blue blips appeared where the reds were grouped. As soon as all the reds disappeared, the blues began moving in a line away from the compound in the opposite direction from the skimmer.
Ok. Now what? Even with half of 'em driving away, there was still twenty to deal with; one ah four at the front ah the place and eight sets ah two covering the other three sides. Jeeter held his tongue and waited for Barrol to decide what he wanted to do.
"Odds are it 'is' a siege. But I need to make sure that it isn't protection. How close do you think you can get this thing without being spotted?"
Lady worked the keyboard. A bunch of lines overlaid the screen; not a grid, like stacks of ovals and circles with lines wiggling around and between them. She pointed at a set ah lines snaking between where they were and were the blips were.
"This is the scan we took from the BC to pinpoint the compound's location. If this gully is as wide and deep as it says it is, we should be able to use it to get within approximately a hundred yards of these sentries farthest at the back."
"Go for it."
Lady dropped back behind the ridge they had been sitting on and skimmed the ground until she connected with the gully. Turning and dropping into it, she finally set the skimmer down exactly as she had promised; the nearest set of reds only three hundred and twenty feet away. Barrol stripped the sword rig off his belt and stepped outa the skimmer. A new red blip appeared on the screen.
"You two stay here."
"Wait."
She fished 'round in the console storage and handed Barrol a wrist strap. As he buckled it on, she did something on the scanner keyboard. Barrol's blip turned green. He flashed a wicked smile at her, pulled the cowl ah his cloak over his head and face and melted into the night without a sound. Jeeter had never seen anything so damn creepy in his whole life. He crossed himself before he realized he was doing it. He watched with Lady as the green blip approached the nearest pair ah reds.
The green stopped just short ah the reds. Seconds passed. Suddenly the green moved. It seemed to merge with the reds. The scanner went crazy, flashing back and forth between the colors like a strobe. Then it stopped its St. Vitus dance and there was only green. More seconds passed. The green moved, heading to the next set ah reds. A single red remained where there'd been two.
"What's wrong with the scanner, Lady?"
"Nothing. He just dropped the second corpse on top of the first. He's also not sharing well with others."
She began digging in the storage box again. Oh, sweet Saviour, don't let her be planning on doing what he knew she was planning on doing. Barrol would kill him if he let Lady outa the skimmer. Oh, yeah, that's what she was going to do all right. She was buckling on a wrist band just like she'd given Barrol.
"You ain't doing this, Lady."
"Yes, I am. He may think he can do this by himself but if even one of them squeaks before dying, he's in trouble."
Jeeter's thoughts skittered all over. Had to find a way to stop her.
"If anyone's going out there, it's me. I done stuff like this before."
"There isn't even a moon, Jeeter. I can see and you can't."
"You ain't going!"
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Jenna put the stunner back in its boot sheath. Crawling between the seats, she un-wedged Jeeter's head from between the side of the pilot seat and the skimmer door. She gently stretched him out on the deck of the storage compartment, making sure that his cape was wrapped around him. The night was rather cool. Jeeter had only been doing what he thought was best for her and didn't deserve to become sick because of it.
Returning to the pilot seat, she pulled two more articles out of the storage comparting. One was a remote viewer for the security screen and the other was a remote control for the skimmer. Fastening the control securely to her belt, she activated the palm sized viewer and checked it against the console screen. When it proved accurate, she left the skimmer and headed, quickly but very quietly, toward Riddick's position.
What was this anyway? A conspiracy to protect the poor stupid woman-child? She knew her limitations. While she had developed a goodly talent for open combat under the tutelage of Mr. Sen, she was totally untrained in swift and silent killing. She had no intention of interfering with Riddick; only observing him and staying close enough to back him if it did turn into an open battle.
She tried to convince herself that was all that motivated her; the preservation of a needed asset. She didn't do a very good job of it. The truth wouldn't allow her to deny it. She wanted to see him kill; wanted to see the part of him that terrified all the rest of them; needed to know if it would terrify her as well. She had to know if this fixation she had on him was nothing more than that or if it was something deeper; something that would survive the brutal reality of what he was. Then a small voice within gigged her sharply. What if you glory in it?
Putting these personal thoughts aside, she checked Riddick's location. By the storm of color at the second sentry position, he was in the process of eliminating it. She swung wide and approached the third. The idiots were chattering away to each other, their voices barely below normal volume. Obviously they expected no serious opposition to whatever they were here to do. Their attention was concentrated toward the lights of the compound with no thought to the dark expanse behind them nor the shrubberies, trees and other plantings separating them from their fellow sentries on either side. Their only visible weapons were swords similar to her own. They had no night vision goggles. Not a sophisticated operation in the least. She had no difficulty in approaching quite close.
She melted deep into the shadows on the opposite side from where Riddick would come and took great care to conceal herself; not from the idiots, from Riddick. Her attention then turned to studying them. She didn't know the language but she didn't have to. Their body language, faces, tone of voice; everything about them spoke of cruelty and desolation of soul. Her internal alarms vibrated in agreement. These were very definitely 'not nice' men. It seemed that even a place as supposedly holy as New Mecca had its dregs and criminal under-belly.
She didn't see nor hear Riddick. Something in her felt his presence. Moving nothing but her eyes, she located the odd lump of dead thing against the living earth and new growth that had to be his cape. Then she saw a brief glint of sliver eyes. Content with that, she waited patiently. Riddick moved, leaving the cape behind. Time seemed to alter. He was bare from the waist up; something, earth perhaps, darkening his skin and killing the shine. His massive muscles were bunched with the control he exerted over them. His right arm held across his chest, the flash of his shiv. His left arm extended slightly in front of him; long supple fingers spread, like talons to catch his prey. By all the names of God! He was so beautiful!
He froze, semi crouched, for what seemed an eternity to Jenna. She drank in the sight of him. Then came the feral snarl; low, menacing snarl. The two men started. They tried to turn, rise and draw their weapons; all at the same time. Oh, but they were slow, so very pitifully slow. Eyes captured by the silver of his, their heads tilted upwards as he straightened; exposing their throats. His right arm extended slightly. His torso spun right. His wrist rotated. His torso turned back to the left. The arm returned to lay easily against his chest. He stepped back. Throats spurted blood. Hands clawed at them. Eyes widened in one last flare of surprise as death crawled over them. With hollow thumps, the bodies collapsed onto the ground.
Riddick calmly knelt beside one of the bodies and cleaned his shiv with a piece of its robe. Slowly his head turned. Silver captured silver.
"I told you to wait in the skimmer."
Jenna jerked as time snapped violently back into its normal state. His deep, angry purr made her shiver. She used the only excuse that came to mind to cover her true motives.
"Out agreement was for education. I wish to learn this."
His sneer of disbelief gave her a second of warning.
"Don't lie. You wanted to see the beast make his kill." Like a striking snake he stood, crossed to her, dragged her up and crushed her against him. "And don't try to make me believe that it didn't excite you. I can see it in your face."
His face was filled with disgust. Jenna had fallen from her pedestal. Well, it was about time.
"Yes, it excited me; the same as everything else about you excites me. The way you kill is exquisitely beautiful in form and perfection in skill. The result, the deaths; not exciting. At most, they are a disturbing necessity. Made less disturbing by the swift and humane way in which you accomplished them. While I doubt that I could ever achieve the level of skill that you have, I do need to have skill sufficient to deal with such a situation should it occur after our association is ended. Now, release me and show me a basic technique that will do for the rest of tonight's business."
He set her away from him rather forcefully but reached out to steady her when he realized it. He no longer looked disgusted but he didn't look happy either. Obviously, Richard B. Riddick didn't like to be confused by people.
"No."
Jenna felt a tinge of sympathy for him. He wasn't accustomed to dealing with someone equally as complicated as he was. To make this a fair situation, she should hand him her psychological and history files and allow him the same many months to study them as she had taken to study his. She should but she wasn't about to.
"Yes. There are four in the command post. Even you might suffer some injury against such odds. It would be a violation of our contract to risk yourself unnecessarily. You have five more sentry posts to teach me enough to at least deal with one of them."
"No."
"Then the contract is void."
Jenna spun away from him and headed back toward the skimmer. She made it four steps before a rough hand fastened under her jaw and she was jerked roughly back against a hard chest. Her jaws were held closed in this vise. She couldn't have made a sound if she had wanted to. The edge of a hand was drawn heavily across her throat. It could just as easily been his shiv. As the full import of how hard she had pushed him hit her, Jenna's knees gave. Riddick sank down with her, cradling her against him.
"Are you totally crazy, sweet thing, or do you really trust me that much?"
"Both"
"Fuck! ....... All right. Show me how you hold your blade."
Instead of going for her dagger, Jenna wormed her hand between them and drew the shiv from the back of her belt.
"No. Use the one you're most familiar with."
"I am. Of course my practice with it was only what felt right. No one has written a methods manual for shivs."
With a rumbling chuckle, Riddick's hand covered hers; checking her hold then the edge of the blade."
"You hold it right and the thing is sharp enough. But you said it was one of mine. It's too small."
"It's the one in the center of the display only cut down to fit my hand."
"Hell, you are crazy. Let's get on with this. They could decide to start moving around any time."
He stood lifting her with him and then stepped back to retrieve his cape. Jenna checked the security display.
"No. They're all still in place."
Riddick studied the display and then looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Handy little gadget."
To Jenna's great relief he turned and led the way toward the next sentry post without further comment. After the defiance she had already showed him, she had no desire to discuss the fact that she hadn't given him a display because she was certain that he had no intention of returning to the skimmer before starting something and she didn't want him to be able to discover what she was doing when she came after him. An open admission of how predictable his actions were to her wasn't something she wanted added to his list of her sins for this night.
Riddick pointed out her target to her and she made her move in perfect coordination with his. That was the last perfect thing she did. Whether it was the nervous sweat on her hands or simply that it was her first such kill, her slash across the man's throat was angled wrong and too shallow. The jugular vein was opened but carotid artery beneath it and the trachea were untouched. He was bleeding out but could still breath and struggle. Feeling him begin to free himself, she made the only move her desperate mind offered. Dropping her shiv, she threw herself forward. Pining him with her own weight, she forced his face into the earth. If he bled out or smothered, she never knew. The next thing she remembered was Riddick whispering her name against her ear and gently lifting her off of the corpse. Her mind began to clear as she felt him place her shiv into its sheath.
"I certainly botched it, didn't I?"
Riddick's thumb stroked her cheek.
"No. It wasn't by the book but it satisfied the orders. Target eliminated without giving alarm. I've seen experienced men miss a strike and not recover the situation as well as you did. Just remember that the trachea is the prime target. Silence no matter how long it takes to finish it. Next, the jugular. Those two will do the job. Hitting the carotid, cutting the blood supply to the brain immediately, ends it quicker but it takes a lot of strength to cut that deep. Just go for the basics to start. But, if you can talk, you can walk. Let's go for the others."
Jenna stood ..... and immediately went to her knees. Sharp pain hit her in the temples and her body was vibrating in a tight palsy. She felt like a giant tuning fork. Riddick lifted her. Placing her arm around his neck and his around her back, he began maneuvering her like a giant walking-doll back the way they had come.
"What's wrong with me?"
"Adrenaline backlash. You have to walk it off or your muscles will lockup. You'll be fine in a few minutes."
As they retraced their steps, Jenna puzzled over Riddick's change of attitude. She had expected her pitiful performance to illicit another attempt to force her return to the skimmer not a semi-positive critique and instruction for improvement. Now, he was delivering battlefield first-aid. And maybe that was the key to it. He was holding her much the same way he had when crossing the bar and walking down those grimy streets; yet, it was nothing like it at all. She felt no overt sexuality, no male dominant seduction, no nerve tingling insecurity. What she did feel was concern, comfort and ... and comradery; the emotions of a hardened veteran for a greenie on his first patrol.
It shook her. She had no more experience with this kind of relationship than she had with the other. With no small amount of shock, she realized that by some natural phenomenon, she and Riddick were able to touch each other on the deepest of emotional levels; levels that the rest of the universe would sneer at the idea of either of them even possessing. As much as the miracle of it excited her, the responsibility of it sobered her. Then she had to wonder why she was so surprised. Nothing in her life had ever been in moderation. That her first sexually driven relationship was a maelstrom of emotion and complicated motivations was to be expected.
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Riddick's mind was going in a dozen directions; all at the same time. What in the fuck had he gotten himself into. It started out as some toner 'Princess' hiring muscle to help her run away from ..... what? Her family, an abusive husband, something simple like that. Blink! It's a herd, some kind of brain trust, running from the Company and probably from the United World military but on the quiet ... mercs plus Spec Opps.
If that wasn't bad enough, now he had Iman and Jack in trouble up to their eyeballs; trouble of their own but trouble because of him along with it. The contract with Jenna was the only reason that he was here to help them before it was too late. But if the conversation he had overheard between the first set of sentries was anywhere near what was going down here, the only way out for them was to join the escapees on the Hole. He really hoped that it wasn't that bad or that Iman knew some place on New Mecca where they could get safe sanctuary.
The warm comfort of Jenna against his side brought his mind back to the other problem that contract had thrown at him; the 'Princess'. Hell, that image had started dissolving the second she walked into that sleazy bar. But, still, he hadn't taken it seriously when she had talked about him teaching her his way of killing. He hadn't respected her enough to take it seriously. Even the episode with G hadn't earned her any credit in that direction. Putting poison up a man's nose while he was held down and helpless wasn't the same thing as taking on an armed and fully mobile enemy.
The only reason he had allowed her to stay with him tonight was that, not knowing how long a stun would hold with her, he couldn't risk her taking off with the skimmer and leaving him stranded. Having no quick way off planet was a much greater problem than her allowing her target to yell an alarm. And, he had minimized that risk by giving her the target farthest forward so that he would have the best chance of doing his and finishing hers before that alarm could be raised. When she botched it, she wouldn't be able to argue with his sending her back to the skimmer.
That wasn't what happened. She'd missed the strike all right; most first timers did. Human cartilage and muscle were a lot tougher than most people thought they were. But unlike most first timers, she hadn't lost her focus. She'd finished the job; not quick and clean but finished. She'd also managed to do it wearing that freaking cloak. That she was whispering apologies for being so inept and causing him so much unnecessary pain while she was smothering the man was weird but not something that Riddick couldn't deal with. It was the same as that sad, sort of comforting look she had given G. It didn't subtract a damn thing from the fact that she was a fucking natural at this the same as he was. With training and experience she would be someone he could trust at his side or covering his back no matter how cranked the situation got.
Shit! It must be a cold, wet day in hell. Thoughts like that in 'his' head. He'd learned his lesson on that score a long time ago. The only way to survive was to depend on no one, absolutely no one, but yourself. And he'd teach her that, too; right along with everything else. Oh, yeah. She was going to get what she wanted and, when he got through with her, pity the merc or Spec Opp that crossed her path. He found that thought so satisfying that he began to consider who else in the group might have talent worth developing.
Syrus and Mr. Sen for sure and he already had a deal with Jeeter; shiv training in exchange for his expertise with stickers. Jack could handle more now that she was older. Ben was a question mark. The unholy three were probably lost causes. Each of them were cowards in their different ways. Riddick was also completely certain that one of them was the source of the tracking signal planted in the bay. Iman was a definite 'NO'.
How about that! 'Richard B, Riddick's School of Self-Defense and Merc Fucking' had its first class of five, maybe six, He was pretty sure that it wasn't what Carolyn had in mind when she challenged him to rejoin the human race but it sure was an idea he could grab onto.
As they passed the first kill site, Riddick retrieved his shirt and vest and handed them to Jenna.
"Since you can manage that cloak, tuck these under your belt until we're done. And from now on, anytime we go planet side at night, we wear black shirts."
Jenna seemed to consider this while she stashed away his clothing under her cloak.
"No. Black on black .. on black is too obvious. Besides, ... I like the solution you came up with tonight much better."
He caught the flash of a grin as she turned and headed for the next set of sentries before he could snap his reply at her. Given a chance for a second thought, he was glad that he hadn't. Threatening her with dire consequences if he caught her using the same solution wasn't the way to keep the upper hand in this ... this whatever it was between them. At least she was definitely recovered from her adrenaline shock. He followed after her. Setting the bigger future problems aside, he concentrated on what had to be done to clear out rest of the trash between them and Iman and Jack.
On the next two kills, Jenna did a competent job; taking out both trachea and jugular. On the third and fourth, she severed the carotid as well. Like he'd thought, a natural. In each case she looked regretful but there was no more phasing out nor apologies. Riddick wondered if he was ever going to get deep enough inside her head to figure that one out. That thought went onto the future problems pile. The sentries had been easy. What was coming up, the command post, was probably going to be anything but. With a whispered command to Jenna for extra caution, he led the way toward it.
In the conversation he had overheard, one of the men had been bitching about having to take orders from the off-world unbelievers. To Riddick that had read 'mercs'. When he got his first clear view of the command post he found out that he'd been wrong. It was worse than that. Two of the four were locals. The other two were dressed as mercs but their side arms were disrupters and each was cradling a pulse rifle in the crook of his arm. Since the Patrol always worked in uniform, that made them Spec Opps or Company Fixers and most of them were ex-SO.
Fuck!!
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beryl:a silicate of beryllium and aluminum; of great hardness; occurring in green hexagonal prisms.
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Chapter 18 -
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Jeeter was getting a really sore ass. If they were gonna do very mucha this skimmer shit, he was gonna demand a jump seat. Not only was the floor plates ah the storage area hard steel, Lady was hedge hopping at full speed 'cross one devil's spine after another and slide slipping through the gullies. Thank the Blessed Mother, he'd had the chance to get something for his stomach outa the BC's med locker before they left it.
Thinking about the BC gave him a real warm feeling inside. He'd thought she was nothing but a slab and gantry tail stander. But coming down, she'd turned into the sweetest little belly flopper he'd every seen. Once she got enough atmosphere to bite, she handled like a skimmer, came down flat and easy in a slot no bigger than she was. And not a sign ah it on the outside until you needed it. The things a raider could do with a sweet piece like her.
Lady made another violent maneuver and Jeeter tightened his hold on the cargo net. Damn Barrol! How did he do that? Sitting there all calm, cool and easy; his body matching the skimmer's moves like he was just another piece ah the thing. And what was going on between him and Lady? Oh, they was polite to each other and that was the thing. No teasing, no smart-ass remarks from Barrol, no special voice for him from Lady. They weren't fighting. They still had the same wanting looks for each other when the other wasn't looking. But all business and polite when they were.
Maybe it was just because everything was so serious. They had a tracker and spy-ware on the Hole. Lady had come back from the infirmary wearing that damn earring again. Barrol was being forced to reveal one ah his safe places, risk some ah his friends getting pulled into this trouble. But there was something odd in Barrol's eyes when he looked at Lady; something that made Jeeter think that whatever was going on with 'em was personal. It also looked to Jeeter like the Big Guy was the one having trouble with it and that was funny as hell.
What wasn't funny was finally being able to see Barrol's eyes. Jeeter had figured that it would be better than those look-back-at-yourself shades. He'd been wrong. Except for the brief flashes ah warm emotion directed at Lady's back, it was like looking into a midnight jungle; onyx and beryl with quick death hidden in the dark behind it. Now, Lady's were beautiful; like sea and sky all swirled together. Fit her better that the plain brown-green hazel that she'd been born with. But, then when you thought about it, so did Barrol's; fit him to a 'T'. And Lady had picked 'em out for him. Sheeze. Jeeter wondered if she saw the same thing in 'em that he did.
Suddenly they were down and rolling along like a ground car. If the drop hadn't been hard enough on Jeeter's abused butt, the road they were on wasn't much better than a couple ah ruts in the ground with some gravel thrown in their direction. Lady was still driving hell bent for the horizon and, trying to adjust to this uneven terrain, the stabilizers were rocking the skimmer from side to side like a hooch dancers hips. Meds or no, if this didn't stop soon, he was going to puke. To his great relief, Lady began slowing down. A lota that relief disappeared when, topping a hill, Lady came to a complete halt then took the skimmer off ah the road and behind a cluster of trees.
"Barrol, you better take a look at this. That peaceful, isolated compound we're supposed to be able to just walk into is surrounded by blips."
As Barrol shifted over, Jeeter moved to look over Lady's other shoulder. Holy Mother Mary, it looked like a fire-fly convention. His stomach problem disappeared. Funny how that always happen to him when the enemy was spotted.
"All those cars, damn, they gota have a full regiment around the place."
"Not cars, Jeeter. I set the scan for infra-red at human-normal range. We have forty men. From the movements I've observed, half are coming in from the outside and replacing the other half in a perimeter around the main residence. I would speculate that it's a siege situation but these are your friends, Barrol, it's your call."
Barrol didn't react, just kept looking at the security screen. Jeeter knew this one. Let the enemy get settled in. Let him get nice and comfortable watching his target. Then, slither around to his backside and do him. The blips cooperated. The incoming matched up with those already there. For a minute or two nothing moved. Then, blips started moving out. They gathered in four groups on the far side of the compound and began disappearing. Lady fiddled with the keyboard. Four larger, blue blips appeared where the reds were grouped. As soon as all the reds disappeared, the blues began moving in a line away from the compound in the opposite direction from the skimmer.
Ok. Now what? Even with half of 'em driving away, there was still twenty to deal with; one ah four at the front ah the place and eight sets ah two covering the other three sides. Jeeter held his tongue and waited for Barrol to decide what he wanted to do.
"Odds are it 'is' a siege. But I need to make sure that it isn't protection. How close do you think you can get this thing without being spotted?"
Lady worked the keyboard. A bunch of lines overlaid the screen; not a grid, like stacks of ovals and circles with lines wiggling around and between them. She pointed at a set ah lines snaking between where they were and were the blips were.
"This is the scan we took from the BC to pinpoint the compound's location. If this gully is as wide and deep as it says it is, we should be able to use it to get within approximately a hundred yards of these sentries farthest at the back."
"Go for it."
Lady dropped back behind the ridge they had been sitting on and skimmed the ground until she connected with the gully. Turning and dropping into it, she finally set the skimmer down exactly as she had promised; the nearest set of reds only three hundred and twenty feet away. Barrol stripped the sword rig off his belt and stepped outa the skimmer. A new red blip appeared on the screen.
"You two stay here."
"Wait."
She fished 'round in the console storage and handed Barrol a wrist strap. As he buckled it on, she did something on the scanner keyboard. Barrol's blip turned green. He flashed a wicked smile at her, pulled the cowl ah his cloak over his head and face and melted into the night without a sound. Jeeter had never seen anything so damn creepy in his whole life. He crossed himself before he realized he was doing it. He watched with Lady as the green blip approached the nearest pair ah reds.
The green stopped just short ah the reds. Seconds passed. Suddenly the green moved. It seemed to merge with the reds. The scanner went crazy, flashing back and forth between the colors like a strobe. Then it stopped its St. Vitus dance and there was only green. More seconds passed. The green moved, heading to the next set ah reds. A single red remained where there'd been two.
"What's wrong with the scanner, Lady?"
"Nothing. He just dropped the second corpse on top of the first. He's also not sharing well with others."
She began digging in the storage box again. Oh, sweet Saviour, don't let her be planning on doing what he knew she was planning on doing. Barrol would kill him if he let Lady outa the skimmer. Oh, yeah, that's what she was going to do all right. She was buckling on a wrist band just like she'd given Barrol.
"You ain't doing this, Lady."
"Yes, I am. He may think he can do this by himself but if even one of them squeaks before dying, he's in trouble."
Jeeter's thoughts skittered all over. Had to find a way to stop her.
"If anyone's going out there, it's me. I done stuff like this before."
"There isn't even a moon, Jeeter. I can see and you can't."
"You ain't going!"
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Jenna put the stunner back in its boot sheath. Crawling between the seats, she un-wedged Jeeter's head from between the side of the pilot seat and the skimmer door. She gently stretched him out on the deck of the storage compartment, making sure that his cape was wrapped around him. The night was rather cool. Jeeter had only been doing what he thought was best for her and didn't deserve to become sick because of it.
Returning to the pilot seat, she pulled two more articles out of the storage comparting. One was a remote viewer for the security screen and the other was a remote control for the skimmer. Fastening the control securely to her belt, she activated the palm sized viewer and checked it against the console screen. When it proved accurate, she left the skimmer and headed, quickly but very quietly, toward Riddick's position.
What was this anyway? A conspiracy to protect the poor stupid woman-child? She knew her limitations. While she had developed a goodly talent for open combat under the tutelage of Mr. Sen, she was totally untrained in swift and silent killing. She had no intention of interfering with Riddick; only observing him and staying close enough to back him if it did turn into an open battle.
She tried to convince herself that was all that motivated her; the preservation of a needed asset. She didn't do a very good job of it. The truth wouldn't allow her to deny it. She wanted to see him kill; wanted to see the part of him that terrified all the rest of them; needed to know if it would terrify her as well. She had to know if this fixation she had on him was nothing more than that or if it was something deeper; something that would survive the brutal reality of what he was. Then a small voice within gigged her sharply. What if you glory in it?
Putting these personal thoughts aside, she checked Riddick's location. By the storm of color at the second sentry position, he was in the process of eliminating it. She swung wide and approached the third. The idiots were chattering away to each other, their voices barely below normal volume. Obviously they expected no serious opposition to whatever they were here to do. Their attention was concentrated toward the lights of the compound with no thought to the dark expanse behind them nor the shrubberies, trees and other plantings separating them from their fellow sentries on either side. Their only visible weapons were swords similar to her own. They had no night vision goggles. Not a sophisticated operation in the least. She had no difficulty in approaching quite close.
She melted deep into the shadows on the opposite side from where Riddick would come and took great care to conceal herself; not from the idiots, from Riddick. Her attention then turned to studying them. She didn't know the language but she didn't have to. Their body language, faces, tone of voice; everything about them spoke of cruelty and desolation of soul. Her internal alarms vibrated in agreement. These were very definitely 'not nice' men. It seemed that even a place as supposedly holy as New Mecca had its dregs and criminal under-belly.
She didn't see nor hear Riddick. Something in her felt his presence. Moving nothing but her eyes, she located the odd lump of dead thing against the living earth and new growth that had to be his cape. Then she saw a brief glint of sliver eyes. Content with that, she waited patiently. Riddick moved, leaving the cape behind. Time seemed to alter. He was bare from the waist up; something, earth perhaps, darkening his skin and killing the shine. His massive muscles were bunched with the control he exerted over them. His right arm held across his chest, the flash of his shiv. His left arm extended slightly in front of him; long supple fingers spread, like talons to catch his prey. By all the names of God! He was so beautiful!
He froze, semi crouched, for what seemed an eternity to Jenna. She drank in the sight of him. Then came the feral snarl; low, menacing snarl. The two men started. They tried to turn, rise and draw their weapons; all at the same time. Oh, but they were slow, so very pitifully slow. Eyes captured by the silver of his, their heads tilted upwards as he straightened; exposing their throats. His right arm extended slightly. His torso spun right. His wrist rotated. His torso turned back to the left. The arm returned to lay easily against his chest. He stepped back. Throats spurted blood. Hands clawed at them. Eyes widened in one last flare of surprise as death crawled over them. With hollow thumps, the bodies collapsed onto the ground.
Riddick calmly knelt beside one of the bodies and cleaned his shiv with a piece of its robe. Slowly his head turned. Silver captured silver.
"I told you to wait in the skimmer."
Jenna jerked as time snapped violently back into its normal state. His deep, angry purr made her shiver. She used the only excuse that came to mind to cover her true motives.
"Out agreement was for education. I wish to learn this."
His sneer of disbelief gave her a second of warning.
"Don't lie. You wanted to see the beast make his kill." Like a striking snake he stood, crossed to her, dragged her up and crushed her against him. "And don't try to make me believe that it didn't excite you. I can see it in your face."
His face was filled with disgust. Jenna had fallen from her pedestal. Well, it was about time.
"Yes, it excited me; the same as everything else about you excites me. The way you kill is exquisitely beautiful in form and perfection in skill. The result, the deaths; not exciting. At most, they are a disturbing necessity. Made less disturbing by the swift and humane way in which you accomplished them. While I doubt that I could ever achieve the level of skill that you have, I do need to have skill sufficient to deal with such a situation should it occur after our association is ended. Now, release me and show me a basic technique that will do for the rest of tonight's business."
He set her away from him rather forcefully but reached out to steady her when he realized it. He no longer looked disgusted but he didn't look happy either. Obviously, Richard B. Riddick didn't like to be confused by people.
"No."
Jenna felt a tinge of sympathy for him. He wasn't accustomed to dealing with someone equally as complicated as he was. To make this a fair situation, she should hand him her psychological and history files and allow him the same many months to study them as she had taken to study his. She should but she wasn't about to.
"Yes. There are four in the command post. Even you might suffer some injury against such odds. It would be a violation of our contract to risk yourself unnecessarily. You have five more sentry posts to teach me enough to at least deal with one of them."
"No."
"Then the contract is void."
Jenna spun away from him and headed back toward the skimmer. She made it four steps before a rough hand fastened under her jaw and she was jerked roughly back against a hard chest. Her jaws were held closed in this vise. She couldn't have made a sound if she had wanted to. The edge of a hand was drawn heavily across her throat. It could just as easily been his shiv. As the full import of how hard she had pushed him hit her, Jenna's knees gave. Riddick sank down with her, cradling her against him.
"Are you totally crazy, sweet thing, or do you really trust me that much?"
"Both"
"Fuck! ....... All right. Show me how you hold your blade."
Instead of going for her dagger, Jenna wormed her hand between them and drew the shiv from the back of her belt.
"No. Use the one you're most familiar with."
"I am. Of course my practice with it was only what felt right. No one has written a methods manual for shivs."
With a rumbling chuckle, Riddick's hand covered hers; checking her hold then the edge of the blade."
"You hold it right and the thing is sharp enough. But you said it was one of mine. It's too small."
"It's the one in the center of the display only cut down to fit my hand."
"Hell, you are crazy. Let's get on with this. They could decide to start moving around any time."
He stood lifting her with him and then stepped back to retrieve his cape. Jenna checked the security display.
"No. They're all still in place."
Riddick studied the display and then looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Handy little gadget."
To Jenna's great relief he turned and led the way toward the next sentry post without further comment. After the defiance she had already showed him, she had no desire to discuss the fact that she hadn't given him a display because she was certain that he had no intention of returning to the skimmer before starting something and she didn't want him to be able to discover what she was doing when she came after him. An open admission of how predictable his actions were to her wasn't something she wanted added to his list of her sins for this night.
Riddick pointed out her target to her and she made her move in perfect coordination with his. That was the last perfect thing she did. Whether it was the nervous sweat on her hands or simply that it was her first such kill, her slash across the man's throat was angled wrong and too shallow. The jugular vein was opened but carotid artery beneath it and the trachea were untouched. He was bleeding out but could still breath and struggle. Feeling him begin to free himself, she made the only move her desperate mind offered. Dropping her shiv, she threw herself forward. Pining him with her own weight, she forced his face into the earth. If he bled out or smothered, she never knew. The next thing she remembered was Riddick whispering her name against her ear and gently lifting her off of the corpse. Her mind began to clear as she felt him place her shiv into its sheath.
"I certainly botched it, didn't I?"
Riddick's thumb stroked her cheek.
"No. It wasn't by the book but it satisfied the orders. Target eliminated without giving alarm. I've seen experienced men miss a strike and not recover the situation as well as you did. Just remember that the trachea is the prime target. Silence no matter how long it takes to finish it. Next, the jugular. Those two will do the job. Hitting the carotid, cutting the blood supply to the brain immediately, ends it quicker but it takes a lot of strength to cut that deep. Just go for the basics to start. But, if you can talk, you can walk. Let's go for the others."
Jenna stood ..... and immediately went to her knees. Sharp pain hit her in the temples and her body was vibrating in a tight palsy. She felt like a giant tuning fork. Riddick lifted her. Placing her arm around his neck and his around her back, he began maneuvering her like a giant walking-doll back the way they had come.
"What's wrong with me?"
"Adrenaline backlash. You have to walk it off or your muscles will lockup. You'll be fine in a few minutes."
As they retraced their steps, Jenna puzzled over Riddick's change of attitude. She had expected her pitiful performance to illicit another attempt to force her return to the skimmer not a semi-positive critique and instruction for improvement. Now, he was delivering battlefield first-aid. And maybe that was the key to it. He was holding her much the same way he had when crossing the bar and walking down those grimy streets; yet, it was nothing like it at all. She felt no overt sexuality, no male dominant seduction, no nerve tingling insecurity. What she did feel was concern, comfort and ... and comradery; the emotions of a hardened veteran for a greenie on his first patrol.
It shook her. She had no more experience with this kind of relationship than she had with the other. With no small amount of shock, she realized that by some natural phenomenon, she and Riddick were able to touch each other on the deepest of emotional levels; levels that the rest of the universe would sneer at the idea of either of them even possessing. As much as the miracle of it excited her, the responsibility of it sobered her. Then she had to wonder why she was so surprised. Nothing in her life had ever been in moderation. That her first sexually driven relationship was a maelstrom of emotion and complicated motivations was to be expected.
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Riddick's mind was going in a dozen directions; all at the same time. What in the fuck had he gotten himself into. It started out as some toner 'Princess' hiring muscle to help her run away from ..... what? Her family, an abusive husband, something simple like that. Blink! It's a herd, some kind of brain trust, running from the Company and probably from the United World military but on the quiet ... mercs plus Spec Opps.
If that wasn't bad enough, now he had Iman and Jack in trouble up to their eyeballs; trouble of their own but trouble because of him along with it. The contract with Jenna was the only reason that he was here to help them before it was too late. But if the conversation he had overheard between the first set of sentries was anywhere near what was going down here, the only way out for them was to join the escapees on the Hole. He really hoped that it wasn't that bad or that Iman knew some place on New Mecca where they could get safe sanctuary.
The warm comfort of Jenna against his side brought his mind back to the other problem that contract had thrown at him; the 'Princess'. Hell, that image had started dissolving the second she walked into that sleazy bar. But, still, he hadn't taken it seriously when she had talked about him teaching her his way of killing. He hadn't respected her enough to take it seriously. Even the episode with G hadn't earned her any credit in that direction. Putting poison up a man's nose while he was held down and helpless wasn't the same thing as taking on an armed and fully mobile enemy.
The only reason he had allowed her to stay with him tonight was that, not knowing how long a stun would hold with her, he couldn't risk her taking off with the skimmer and leaving him stranded. Having no quick way off planet was a much greater problem than her allowing her target to yell an alarm. And, he had minimized that risk by giving her the target farthest forward so that he would have the best chance of doing his and finishing hers before that alarm could be raised. When she botched it, she wouldn't be able to argue with his sending her back to the skimmer.
That wasn't what happened. She'd missed the strike all right; most first timers did. Human cartilage and muscle were a lot tougher than most people thought they were. But unlike most first timers, she hadn't lost her focus. She'd finished the job; not quick and clean but finished. She'd also managed to do it wearing that freaking cloak. That she was whispering apologies for being so inept and causing him so much unnecessary pain while she was smothering the man was weird but not something that Riddick couldn't deal with. It was the same as that sad, sort of comforting look she had given G. It didn't subtract a damn thing from the fact that she was a fucking natural at this the same as he was. With training and experience she would be someone he could trust at his side or covering his back no matter how cranked the situation got.
Shit! It must be a cold, wet day in hell. Thoughts like that in 'his' head. He'd learned his lesson on that score a long time ago. The only way to survive was to depend on no one, absolutely no one, but yourself. And he'd teach her that, too; right along with everything else. Oh, yeah. She was going to get what she wanted and, when he got through with her, pity the merc or Spec Opp that crossed her path. He found that thought so satisfying that he began to consider who else in the group might have talent worth developing.
Syrus and Mr. Sen for sure and he already had a deal with Jeeter; shiv training in exchange for his expertise with stickers. Jack could handle more now that she was older. Ben was a question mark. The unholy three were probably lost causes. Each of them were cowards in their different ways. Riddick was also completely certain that one of them was the source of the tracking signal planted in the bay. Iman was a definite 'NO'.
How about that! 'Richard B, Riddick's School of Self-Defense and Merc Fucking' had its first class of five, maybe six, He was pretty sure that it wasn't what Carolyn had in mind when she challenged him to rejoin the human race but it sure was an idea he could grab onto.
As they passed the first kill site, Riddick retrieved his shirt and vest and handed them to Jenna.
"Since you can manage that cloak, tuck these under your belt until we're done. And from now on, anytime we go planet side at night, we wear black shirts."
Jenna seemed to consider this while she stashed away his clothing under her cloak.
"No. Black on black .. on black is too obvious. Besides, ... I like the solution you came up with tonight much better."
He caught the flash of a grin as she turned and headed for the next set of sentries before he could snap his reply at her. Given a chance for a second thought, he was glad that he hadn't. Threatening her with dire consequences if he caught her using the same solution wasn't the way to keep the upper hand in this ... this whatever it was between them. At least she was definitely recovered from her adrenaline shock. He followed after her. Setting the bigger future problems aside, he concentrated on what had to be done to clear out rest of the trash between them and Iman and Jack.
On the next two kills, Jenna did a competent job; taking out both trachea and jugular. On the third and fourth, she severed the carotid as well. Like he'd thought, a natural. In each case she looked regretful but there was no more phasing out nor apologies. Riddick wondered if he was ever going to get deep enough inside her head to figure that one out. That thought went onto the future problems pile. The sentries had been easy. What was coming up, the command post, was probably going to be anything but. With a whispered command to Jenna for extra caution, he led the way toward it.
In the conversation he had overheard, one of the men had been bitching about having to take orders from the off-world unbelievers. To Riddick that had read 'mercs'. When he got his first clear view of the command post he found out that he'd been wrong. It was worse than that. Two of the four were locals. The other two were dressed as mercs but their side arms were disrupters and each was cradling a pulse rifle in the crook of his arm. Since the Patrol always worked in uniform, that made them Spec Opps or Company Fixers and most of them were ex-SO.
Fuck!!
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beryl:a silicate of beryllium and aluminum; of great hardness; occurring in green hexagonal prisms.
