******
Hargo brought a cigar to his lips and inhaled. Although he savored the aroma, it was not as tasty as a soul cigarette—perhaps if the opportunity presented itself, he would stuff someone in this cigar and smoke them. It was a big cigar after all, so perhaps he could fit more than one soul in it—or perhaps a very portly one? Either would do just fine.
He blew a plume of smoke toward his two commandos, secretly daring them to complain about it, but they apparently knew better as no one said a word.
The three of them stood inside a security room, surrounded by holograms showing the activities of the superstation’s population. The images cycled periodically to show everything from the shuttle landing decks to the security checkpoints that led into the Venus-1 inner city.
Earlier, they had received information about a pirate gang somewhere in the Aphrodite Springs Casino. The three of them had searched all of the likely hangout places throughout the casino until they ended up at a bar called The Impact Crater. There they found a group of men that looked to be part of their quarry.
Unfortunately, Hargo received warning about Venusian Peacekeepers moving into the club, and he and his men had to abort the operation. They watched the Venusians take members of the pirate gang away and into custody. Without further leads, Hargo had to dig up more information—and breaking into one of the local security command stations seemed like a good way of obtaining that information.
Moments ago, they had eliminated the small security detail posted to guard this room. They were easy kills, but at least it satisfied his craving for a fight.
Hargo rubbed his cheek and felt the sticky blood oozing from it. Reminded of the wound, he squinted down at the dead guard who had drawn his blood. He kicked the body until he felt the metal point of his boot penetrate the lifeless flesh.
The other two continued their work unfazed, not even bothering to look at his show of brutality. When he finished taking out his anger on the corpse, Hargo turned to one of the men.
“How much longer, Frank?” he asked with a calm tone that did not betray the rage within him.
“Almost have it,” Frank replied.
His commandos had connected a portable terminal into the hard-line of the security systems and were attempting to snoop the secure communications between the station’s security forces. After a few minutes, Frank looked up at Hargo and nodded.
“I have it,” he said. “It’s a security bulletin about the capture of the pirates. They’re being taken to Earth via a nearby transport. It hasn’t taken off yet.”
Hargo looked at his wrist-link. “We only have a few minutes before this bunch is due to check in with their central command. Download the data on the security detail and let’s go.”
The three men soon left the security room and made their way to a parked shuttle outside. The shuttle was of the small scout variety, able to transport a small force of half a dozen men. Painted with the typical Venusian black and yellow colors, it bore Peacekeeper markings on its hull.
Hargo used a keyring he took off the dead guard’s finger to enter it. Accompanied by Jackson, Hargo made his way toward the forward compartment where the cockpit was located. Frank stayed in the main deck, attending to the hardware they brought with them.
The cockpit computer, sensing the proximity of the keyring, lit up all the instrumentation for them the moment they entered. A holographic display gave them a good view of their surroundings and basic tactical information showing current police patrol routes and communication bulletins.
Four seats stood in the center of the cockpit. Hargo took the main seat and activated the pilot interface. After a holographic joystick and throttle control appeared in front of him, he gripped them and began to maneuver the craft. The shuttle lifted off from the landing pad and began its rapid ascent into the superstation’s skies.
Hargo could see the multitude of city lights swirl below them as they yawed and banked into the sky. In the distance, he could see civilian craft bunched up as they traversed congested traffic lanes into the commercial buildings, with holographic signs pointing the way into their entertainment of choice.
He punched in the coordinates for the prison transport and a compass and range indicator appeared on the holographic display. He banked the joystick and pushed on the throttle, piloting the shuttle to the destination. Frank returned from the back of the shuttle and sat in an empty seat.
“Everything in order?” Hargo asked.
“Yes,” Frank replied. “I have the sniper rifle assembled. Diagnostics check out.”
“Are you sure that’s all we’re going to need?” Jackson said. “Those are Venusian Peacekeepers, and they’re well-armed.”
“It won’t be a problem,” Frank assured them. “I’ve seen this thing take out half a platoon of soldiers in under three seconds; they didn’t even have a chance to react before they were dead.”
“And if it doesn’t kill all of them …” Hargo said as he took out his flicker pistol and waved it. “You and me will finish the rest.”
After a few minutes, the shuttle arrived at the destination. Hargo piloted the shuttle over it, doing a slow pass to get a good view of the prison transport below.
The landing pad was surrounded by various storage structures that bore Venusian government markings on them. The transport itself sat on the pad with its entrance ramp lowered, guarded by two armed Peacekeepers who stood on the sides of the entrance. They did not mark any other security or personnel in the area.
Hargo activated a thermal scan of the shuttle, and could see the heat signatures of four occupants inside, but they appeared to be stationary.
The prisoners …
Hargo noted that a number of small structures sat adjacent to the pad, which could provide good cover. He maneuvered the shuttle low to the ground, using the structure to mask it from view. The shuttle landed and the three of them exited. Hargo lead the way, with the other two carrying a small crate that housed the sniper rifle and mounting system.
Hargo left the two to finish setting up the rifle and walked to the corner of the building. He peeked around and saw the prisoner transport. Using the magnifying lens in his glasses, he could see he had an unobstructed view of the guards, who stood roughly two hundred yards away. He moved back out of sight and called the other two over to move the assembled rifle into position.
The sniper weapon platform sat on a sturdy-looking tripod and had a pair of anti-gravity motivators for rapid movement and placement. The rifle itself had a barrel about a meter in length and a digital scope on top of it. A computer terminal with a holographic display screen was attached to the base of the tripod.
“Two is going to be cake,” Frank said as he began typing on the rifle terminal.
Hargo peered over his shoulder and could see a magnified display of the two guards. Target designators appeared over both of them, with a dotted line crossing between them, showing the programmed traversal of the weapon for both kills.
“Since it’s only two,” Frank said, “we’ll double-tap the first, then triple the second. Even with their body armor, it will be over in seconds.”
Hargo readied his flicker pistol. “We’re going to move into a flanking position on the other side of that structure. When I give the signal, you’re going to simultaneously jam their communications and then shoot. Then we will move in and grab the prisoners.”
Frank nodded.
“Don’t fuck this up, Frank,” Hargo warned.
Hargo and Jackson readied their weapons and walked briskly to the adjacent structure, closer to the transport. They used the structures’ shadows along the way as cover, moving into position unnoticed.
Hugging the wall, Hargo peeked his head out and looked toward the shuttle. They were much closer to the transport now. He could even make out the Venusian logos on the guards’ Peacekeeper uniforms. From here, he would have a good attack position against them if the sniper failed. Once the guards were dow
n, they would move in to grab as many of the prisoners as they could and escape in the Peacekeeper shuttle.
Hargo noticed that the guards turned to face each other and became preoccupied chatting; he would take advantage of the opportunity. He tapped his wrist-link and sent a signal to the sniper.
“Get ready,” he whispered to Frank.
The first shot was barely noticeable. It came as a thin, blue tracer slicing through the air and picking off the first guard. As he went down, the second guard whirled his rifle and began to crouch down for cover, but it was in vain. The follow-up shots sent him flying back, with a final pairing of shots striking his helmet and breaking his head into pieces. What was left of him hit the shuttle’s hull with an audible thump and landed into a crumpled mess on the ground.
“Let’s go!” Hargo ordered.
He and Jackson shot out from behind the wall and darted toward the transport.