Burnside's Killer_Extended Version Read online

  I'd heard of Annabelle Smith and her so-called Alpha Team. They and her other teams had pulled some remarkable escapades in Earth sector a few times. Standing orders from on high had always been to cooperate with them if we ever crossed their path, though I never did. That type of respect for a mercenary team was pretty much unheard of, and most of them were treated like a plague virus by police brass throughout the sector.

  "The general and her teams are well known," I said, impressed by my own diplomatic tone. "A decent merc team could have helped me in this investigation if I'd had access to them. Maybe even prevented some murders."

  "Which brings us to why we're here," said Jane. "Although I doubt anyone would take on such a job without a known target. They're baggers and taggers, not investigators. That's why we still need skilled detectives like you."

  A compliment from a beautiful young woman was still capable of bringing a warm blush into my cheeks, even if I knew she was just being professional.

  "Jon has been notified, and is monitoring the situation," said Janet.

  "I strongly advise he stay away from the station until the killer is caught," I said. "No point in taking needless risks."

  The two women shared a look, then both of them turned to face me. I got the distinct impression they were trying not to laugh.

  "That's not how the admiral operates," said Janet. "As a matter of fact, he's already agreed to play an active role in capturing your killer, once she's been identified."

  My stomach dropped as I realized she was being serious. Shit! I knew I should have just chased this lead on my own! Now it looked like I was lined up to be the moron who got the hero of the Midgard War killed! I'd be lucky if Flint didn't take a page from the killer's playbook, and have my own knob chopped off, and my balls too, for good measure. I cleared my throat.

  "Please tell Admiral Hunter I'm grateful for the offer, but I really don't think that's a good idea."

  "It's a done deal," Janet said. "You don't change Jon Hunter's mind once it's made up."

  Jane fixed me with those electric blue eyes.

  "She's right, Dick. Besides, I've already sent out information that there'll be a celebration on board Hunter's Redoubt in a few days. People are expecting Jon to be here, and he doesn't want to disappoint anyone."

  "Even if one of them is an assassin who wants to separate him from his member?" I asked, exasperated.

  Another sweet smile from Jane.

  "I told you before, there's no danger of that happening."

  "Of course," I said, throwing my hands up. "Silly me for wanting to minimize the risk to the most famous guy in the galaxy. Begging your pardon, but my ass is on the line here."

  "It's not," said Janet. "Here in Midnight…"

  "Hunter is the law," I finished. "Yeah, I know. But Hunter doesn't answer to Captain Flint, I do. And Flint can't take away Hunter's pension if he screws this up, but he can sure as hell take away mine!"

  The two women exchanged another glance. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn they were reading each other's minds. Another twin thing? If they even were twins? Finally, Jane spoke.

  "You have our personal guarantee nothing will harm Jon Hunter while you're here."

  "With all due respect," I said with thinning patience, "that's not something you can guarantee."

  "As a matter of fact, it is," said Janet.

  I sighed.

  "Look, I get that you're both very smart, or you wouldn't be in the positions you're in. And sure, Hunter himself is very skilled in combat. But there's always an element of uncertainty when a killer is involved, and the one we're after is as cunning as they come. I would be much happier if Jon Hunter stayed off the station until she's caught."

  "Then I'm afraid you're going to be unhappy," said Janet. "Because he will be on the station. And he will take part in a sting operation designed to lure your killer out of hiding, and into a trap."

  My eyes must have looked as wide as they felt, or maybe my jaw dropped open, because Jane quickly flashed me an apologetic look.

  "I'm terribly sorry," she said. "It seems we forgot to mention that part."

  Twenty Two

  "If you think this is going to make up for putting my pension on the line, you've got another thing coming," I groused, as our server, a middle-aged woman who looked like she'd seen better days, placed the round of drinks on the table in front of us.

  We were in a bar that a charitable person might describe as 'rustic', on one of the open levels of the station. The clientele in the place was like most of the people I'd encountered on the station up to that point, working class, out for a good time, a few stumbling around and hooting between swigs straight from the bottles they were carrying.

  Jane and Janet ignored their own drinks as I drained half my beer in one go. I'd been dying for a real drink since my can of tepid piss water on the Calypso, and this stuff was good. Australians knew how to make real beer it seemed.

  "Tell me one more time," I said, stifling a belch. "Reassure me that I'm not going to get shit-canned from my sweet consulting gig over this."

  "You're not going to get shit-canned," said Jane.

  "You're not going to get shit-canned," said Janet.

  Listening to the two of them together all but convinced me they were sisters, but for whatever reason, they weren't going to bring it up, so I simply poured the rest of my beer down my throat, and raised my hand to order another.

  "These drinks are on Hunter," I said to the women.

  It wasn't a request. If I was going to put my ass on the line because the damn kid wanted to put his pecker on the line, he could goddamn well pick up my tab.

  "Of course," said Jane. "Whatever you need while you're here. Consider yourself on staff."

  I cocked an eyebrow.

  "Whatever I need?"

  The line was supposed to be funny, but I quickly realized Janet shared whatever it was which made Jane a little bit odd. Neither of them laughed. Janet just nodded.

  "You've already been set up with a line of credit," she said. "Jon said the only thing he wouldn't pay for was gambling in the casino. And prostitutes, of course."

  "Oh, of course," I said with a stern nod, trying to figure out whether she'd been joking.

  She finally let me off the hook with a grin.

  "So tell me again how you plan to trap our killer," I said. "Maybe it won't sound so insane the second time around."

  "It's simple," said Jane. "We put Jon out in the open on the station, and invite our killer to get close to him. Once she exposes herself as per her usual MO, we strike. We can work out the details later."

  "Well, now it makes perfect sense," I said, apparently not done with sarcasm just yet. "I mean, what could possibly go wrong?"

  The waitress placed another beer in front of me, and I drank greedily again.

  "We still have at least six hours before the earliest possible arrival time for the killer," said Jane, ignoring my comments.

  "You're positive of that?" I asked. "I mean, your boss's manhood is on the line here. I'd rather keep the margin for error as low as possible."

  "There's a slight chance that she could have had access to something faster than a conventional ship," said Janet. "But even if she were already here, which I doubt, we've been scanning all arriving vessels. No one has brought a weapon on board since we received Jane's message. We're tracking a little over a hundred weapons throughout the station right now, but none of them are blades of any sort."

  "Jane mentioned that before," I said. "You really have that kind of technology?"

  "Oh yes," said Janet. "It's a refinement of a ship freight scanner Jon was testing for Australian militia, before he was caught up in the Midgard war. When he took possession of this station, we had them added all around it, so we could keep tabs on what was being brought here. The internal ones are simply an adaptation, scaled down so we can detect what's under clothing, and within shipping containers and packaging. With the enemies Jon has, we can't
allow anything which could possibly be used as a weapon to be smuggled on board."

  "So you're saying if she shows up with a blade, she's busted," I mused. "And if she tries to get her hands on a blade here on the station, she'll be shit out of luck. So on paper, we're gold, no matter what happens."

  Jane smiled.

  "That's the spirit!"

  I shook my head.

  "An assassin at her level isn't going to come here without a plan, and I think you know that. We have to ID her as soon as possible, and keep an eye on her."

  "That's probably unrealistic," said Janet. "We have one advantage though. Jon's ships are all fully monitored. While this station isn't, yet, most of the public areas have at least partial coverage. The docks are fully covered, so we can at least identify who is most likely to need to be watched. If need be, we simply task droids or bots to watch where we can't."

  There was something about the way she said all that, which sounded like I was getting the public version, and not the whole truth. I decided not to press it.

  "Back to your plan again," I sighed. "So there's no way I can talk you out of this?"

  "I'm afraid not," Jane smiled.

  "All right, then just go over the details with me. At the very least I can keep an eye out for holes, so we can plug them before the admiral ends up alone with her."

  Jane and Janet exchanged a glance, and finally took a sip of their drinks, which helped put me at ease a bit. That didn't last long, though, as I caught sight of a pair of gents in a corner booth about twenty yards away, sneaking looks in our direction. Janet didn't seem to notice it.

  "Since we can't positively identify the killer in advance, we'll have to assume she'll make an advance on Jon at some point after he arrives for the celebration. Once they're alone, we can monitor the situation, and pounce once she makes her attempt on his life."

  She said it so matter-of-factly, as if she was describing a cargo delivery. I held up my hands in a surrendering gesture.

  "All right, fine," I sighed. "I'm on board with that. But will you at least listen to a possible alternative?"

  They each tilted their heads in my direction. They were nothing if not polite.

  "I'd really prefer to have this bitch on ice, long before Jon Hunter sets foot on this station," I said. "All false modesty aside, I'm pretty good at this whole investigation thing. I've tracked a lot of weirdos, and I've cleared a lot of cases. It's the reason ESPD lured me out of retirement, although on days like today, I'd go back to that in a heartbeat."

  "About that." Jane looked puzzled. "I find it hard to believe you were ever retired. You don't strike me as the kind of person who can't sit still for long."

  "Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating that I'd actually go back," I said. "But in any case, I think I've got a shot of finding her once she arrives. If I do, we can bag her, and get her on the first ship back to Earth Sector for trial. Then we can all go back to our lives, and Hunter can keep on being the hero he is, with his heroic dick still intact."

  The girls surprised me by giggling. Of all the things to laugh about.

  "You should probably get used to calling him Jon," said Jane. "He's informal like that. As for the safety of his dick, again, it's in no danger."

  I managed to keep myself from rolling my eyes. Young people these days, so damn cocky. Pardon the pun.

  "Besides," Janet added, "you need to keep a low profile on the station. The less you're out in plain sight, the better."

  "Look, if this is about stepping on toes…"

  "It has nothing to do with toes, Detective. You've been tracking this woman for the better part of two years. You don't know who she is, but you can definitely believe she knows who you are. I imagine you've been taking up a considerable amount of her attention for some time now." She looked me up and down. "Even if she doesn't know you specifically, she will know someone is tracking her, and even without your hat and coat, which don't exactly help you blend in, every low life who's ever seen you knows you’re a cop the moment they see you."

  That was enough to make me stop in mid-pull on my beer bottle. Shit, I thought. I really must be out of it if it never occurred to me.

  "You're right," I said. "I mean, she probably doesn't suspect that I'm here, but if she sees me, she'll know something is up. Wow, I really need to thank you two for saving me from myself. That's the kind of sloppy mistake that can get people killed. Or worse."

  I immediately thought of the time I’d been assaulted in that bar. I’d never figured out why, but it could have just been obvious cop in the wrong place at the wrong time, must beat him up. Oddly, I’d never needed to do subtle before. Now it seemed to be necessary.

  Jane smiled.

  "You're the one we're worried about, Dick. Your safety is the priority in this situation. Foiling the killer is definitely a goal, but I don't want you in jeopardy."

  I frowned.

  "I appreciate that, but the day I can't hold my own against someone like our killer is the day I better turn in my badge, and climb into my coffin."

  As I said it, I took note of the fact the two men who'd been looking in our direction had left their booth, and were walking towards us. Now they were closer, I recognized the taller one. I never forget a face, especially one as ugly as his, and I could tell he recognized me. It was almost as if fate had decided to underscore Janet's point about my being a liability on the station.

  "I have no doubt that you're capable of handling yourself," said Jane. "But as you keep saying, there are always factors you can't account for in these kinds of situations. So I think it would be best for all concerned if you stayed out of the public eye as much as possible come morning, which is the earliest the killer could be here."

  "I won't argue," I said, keeping an eye on the duo advancing on us. "I'll have to do what I do from the shadows, I guess. Evening, gentlemen. Something we can help you with?"

  The women looked up as the two clowns sidled up to our table. The taller one was silhouetted by a halo of light coming from the ceiling, and suddenly his name came to me. Ronald Speck.

  "Fancy meeting you here, Burnside," said Speck, a hint of a smile curling at the edges of his mouth. "Yer a little out of your jurisdiction, ain't you? The only laws around here are the ones Jonathon Hunter comes up with, and he hasn't had the time to do much of that yet."

  Speck's companion, a bald fellow with a series of bone ridges implanted under the skin on the top of his skull, grinned.

  "That means we can do whatever we want to you," he said gleefully.

  "I'm afraid you gentlemen are mistaken," Janet said sweetly. "Mr. Newman here is a special guest of Admiral Hunter. And I, of course, am the head of security."

  "Newman?"

  Speck's brows went up. He wasn't buying it.

  "Yes," said Jane. "Sidney Newman is a well-known businessman in the Australian Sector, and he has a proposal for the Hunter organization. He arrived early for the celebration that's planned for the station in a few days."

  "Nice try," said Speck. "But I don't think I'm going to forget the ugly mug of the bastard who sent me to prison for a year."

  Ronald Speck had been one of my first arrests after I made detective. He targeted small investors with minimal savings, mostly working class folks who couldn't afford to lose it, and promised to put their money into the ever-expanding trade industry throughout the spine. They took the bait, and he and his partner took the money. So long retirement savings. It made my blood boil back then, and it made me even angrier now that I'd seen what retirement on a budget was like.

  I leaned back in my seat, and stretched my legs out under the table, looking for all the world as if I was simply shooting the breeze with some old friends.

  "You always were a sharp one, Speck," I drawled. "First you spent your stolen credits in the same system where you'd conned the people out of them. Then you tried to pin it on your old partner, without realizing that he'd been the one who rolled over on you."

  Speck's eyes blazed.
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  "Thanks to you I had to go to Pompeii just to get work, asshole. Nobody in the other sectors wanted to hire an ex-con. Then the civil war came, it took all my skill to just avoid getting involved, and as soon as it was over, there wasn't any work anywhere, just handouts from bloody Hunter. Only been able to do work on the docks for the last couple of weeks."

  "You're breaking my heart, Speck. Tell your sob story to the people whose life savings you stole."

  I could tell by his red eyes, and the sway in his step, he'd had more than his share to drink, which meant I should have just kept my mouth shut. But I didn't, and the next thing I know, he shot forward across the table at me. At the same time, I kicked my right foot upwards, flipping the table into his nose and sending him staggering backwards.

  In the two seconds it took me to grab him around the collar, I saw his bald companion lunge at me from my blind side. But an instant after it registered, I watched him sail through the air across the overturned table. He landed some ten meters away, on his head, and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

  "Asshole," Speck gurgled, clutching at my hand as I tried to make sense of the situation.

  Janet had moved faster than my eyes could follow, and thrown the bald guy farther than anyone her size should possibly have been able to. Meanwhile, Jane looked downright bored.

  Speck took a swing at me, but I blocked it with my free hand. I twisted my torso to the left, throwing his bulk downward onto his back on the floor.

  "I don't know what made you think this was going to end some other way," I growled into his face. "You should have just minded your damn business."

  My fist made a distinct crunching sound as it connected with the cartilage in his nose, and a moment later he was as unconscious as his companion lying on the floor ten feet away. I glanced around to see hardly anyone in the place had given us a second look.

  "This is unfortunate," said Janet. She consulted her PC, and a few seconds later, a pair of security droids arrived from nowhere. "Take these two to a holding cell. No contact with anyone."