Starfire
Copyright© 2025 by Mark Randall
Chapter 35
After talking to Paul and Wayne, David didn’t feel right; something was wrong. He turned to Jesse Merrill, his tech manager.
“What’s the word about the cameras?”
“Sorry, Sir, they’re still down. Whoever cut them off changed the password. The computer people say it’s going to take at least 15 minutes to get them back up.”
That wasn’t good enough for David, and it still didn’t solve what was bothering him.
“How many people did Wayne say he had?”
“He said he had eight corpses, Sir.”
“And Paul said he had eight people coming at him, right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Something just didn’t add up. Wayne said there were 8, and Paul said he had eight, which makes 16.
“Jesse, we’re missing four people. 8 and 8 is 16, and 4 more is 20. We’re missing four people. Did anybody say they had a sign of Lansford Graves in their reports?”
“No, Sir.”
Just then, Glenn Rogers, from the Chilkoot militia, called. “Sir, you’ve got a problem over on the admin level.”
“What do you mean, Glenn?”
“We’re getting reports of combat in that area.”
Things were starting to fall into place, but David still hadn’t solved the puzzle yet. “OK, who do we have in that area?”
“Nobody in the area, Sir, except for Bravo team. They are the closest ones.”
“Alright, Glenn, do you have anybody that you can get over that direction?”
“No, Sir, I haven’t got any effectives that are even close.”
“Alright, get me Paul on the phone.”
It took almost a full minute to get in touch with Paul.
When he finally got Paul, Jesse handed the phone to David. “Paul, this is David. What’s your condition?”
“Just cleaning up now. Sir, we’ve got eight down on the bad guy’s side and two down on my side. Plus, just about everybody’s got some kind of holes in them, including me.”
David could hear the wearyness in Paul’s voice. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I need you to head over to the admin area. We’ve got four missing bad guys and reports of fighting in that area. Can you get your team over there and check things? We’ll get another team heading your way as soon as I can.”
Paul was tired and hurt. “Yes, Sir. I can do it.”
“Alright, let me know when you get there.”
“Yes, Sir.”
When Lansford and his assault team burst into the Mothers Council chambers, they were stunned to find, not a group of frightened women, but a group of armed men and women. Standing at the front was an old Asian man and a younger Asian woman, both armed with swords at the ready.
The group paused, and Lansford growled back at Martin, “I thought you said there wouldn’t be any resistance.”
“There shouldn’t be any. This is the shelter location for the Mother’s Council.”
Directing his attention back to the defenders, Graves demanded, “Where are the council members. I have business with them.”
The old Asian man replied, “I am Chiba Chin. I am descended from 20 generations of samurai. My master is Lady Seward; you have no business here. Depart now with your lives.”
Lansford took a step forward, “Old man, I don’t care who or what you are. I want those women, and by God, I’ll have them.” He started to raise his shotgun when Mr. Chin swung his katana in an almost dismissive gesture.
When Lansford’s head left his shoulders, it flew back and struck Martin in the chest. Martin was horrified to see Lansford’s eyes blink at him, an expression of disbelief on his face.
Martin stumbled backwards into the men behind him. They roughly shoved him out of the way and rushed into the room. Each of the raiders repeatedly shoved him out of the way until he was outside the council chamber.
Martin stared back into the room, horrified at the screams, gunfire, and sounds of battle.
Things did not improve when it became evident to him that the defenders were successfully beating the attackers.
Realizing that it was a lost cause, Martin bolted and ran.
As he stumbled aimlessly away from the battle, he frantically sought a solution. He knew that when Bob Chambers’ body was found, he would be implicated with the assault. That would be followed by a thorough search of his quarters, which would lead to the discovery of his radio equipment. That alone would prove his treachery. There was nowhere he could hide, nowhere to run to.
But then he remembered.
After Larry was recruited and kidnapped into the “Agency” as it was called by those who knew of it, he was assured that if he did what was asked of him and kept his nose clean, he would advance in the service. That he could very well achieve status and power that he wouldn’t have achieved before.
Larry knew that his options were limited, coming from a lower-status community with no powerful relatives to pull him up the ladder. The promises that he was offered were very appealing to a young man.
It was later in his life that the gleam of promised rewards started to dim. Passed over for promotions, his successful projects claimed by ‘Privileged’ coworkers, Larry realized that he was in a dead-end position and wouldn’t advance any further than he already had.
He couldn’t even succeed in having a family. While the “Agency” didn’t prohibit relationships, they were discouraged for all but the upper management. It was explained to Larry that the trustworthiness of a spouse would always be questioned. So, it would be best to avoid any unnecessary entanglements.
Years passed, and Larry became even more disillusioned. But resigning or retiring was out of the question. People who left the Agency retired to small plots of land. 6-foot by 2-foot plots. So even that wasn’t possible.
Larry’s latest assignment was as an observer on an independent mining ship. The Agency had learned that the next mission this ship was undertaking was to the far side of the asteroid belt. This was unknown territory for the Federated Nations, and influential people wanted to be kept informed of the situation.
Larry knew that the term ‘Observer’ meant mole and that he would have to guard his real identity carefully. His cover identity was that of an inventory control specialist. It was theorized that, as such, he would be able to move freely about the ship and gather information. He was provided with a compact, state-of-the-art receiver/transmitter so he could send his reports to the Agency as needed.
Shortly after being hired as a contract employee, Larry learned that he would be on the Seward’s Folly for at least 5 years, if not longer. His return to FN space would be decided by his superiors later. Larry suspected that the date was going to be far in the future.
Soon after the Seward’s Folly launched, but was still inside Mars’ space, he received a message about his mission. He was told to watch for several things carefully. First among those was any information concerning Hezekiah Montgomery. Larry knew who Montgomery was; all Agency operatives knew who he was. But the last information that Larry had on him was that he was killed in a ship accident at some out-of-the-way agricultural homestead. Larry was also advised to watch for anyone named Sawyer. This rang a bell with Larry; he had known a kid by the name of Sawyer in his previous life. But he discounted any connection as a coincidence. Sawyer was a common name. He was also strongly encouraged to watch for any unusual data crystals.
None of these instructions included any explanation. Larry was expected to comply with his orders, no questions asked.
Larry considered himself lucky when he became associated with a low-level ship’s congressman. This would give him even more cover for his mission. From that point on, he subtly influenced Bob Chambers. Inflating his ego and playing the dutiful yes man. He suggested that Chambers make a tour of the ship to ensure that supplies and resources were being properly utilized.
Because Chambers was too lazy to do his job, Larry was tasked with the inspection tours. It was while he was inspecting the agricultural section that Larry spotted him, Hezekiah Montgomery. Larry was stunned at first. It was later, while he was composing his report on this for his superiors, that he started having second thoughts. Why should he say anything? He wouldn’t get any credit for the discovery. No honors or promotions would come his way. Oh, he might get a letter of commendation in his secret personal folder. The folder that would be buried next to him when he “retired”
Thus began Larry’s planning and scheming. He would kidnap Montgomery, steal a long-range shuttle, and fly back to FN territory. There, he would turn him over to those powerful and influential people who were so desperate to get their hands on him.
And Larry was in a perfect position to do this. But he had one problem: there was only one ship capable of the trip back to FN space. That was the ship’s rescue tug, the Mule. And that ship was usually manned all the time.
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