Terok Nor_ Day Of The Vipers Part 31

Jekko was the last one up, and Jones bit down a protest as the big man placed a thick-fingered hand beneath her backside and propelled her up the ladder, shoving her through the hatch. The Bajoran threw himself out of the hole in the floor, and Nechayev forced the duranium hatch back into place, a heartbeat before the sensor pod gave a clicking beep.

"Apologies," said Jekko quietly. "You were moving too slowly."

Jones said nothing and brushed at the film of dust over her clothes. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her palms were sweaty. She was afraid to draw her weapon for fear it would slip through her fingers. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Storage blockhouse," Nechayev replied, glancing around the darkened s.p.a.ce of the interior. On either side of them were high racks of skeletal blue metal, each one laden with containers. The air was dry and smelled of ozone.

Circular labels were visible on every storage unit box. Jones peered closely at one of them, frowning. Her grasp of written Carda.s.sian wasn't that good. "I think these are...machine spares?"

Jekko levered the top off and used a penlight to look inside. "You think so?" He reached in and pulled out a phase-compression rifle. "No power cores installed. These are brand-new, never been fired."

"There are hundreds of those containers," Jones muttered. "How many guns is that?"

"A lot," said Nechayev, giving Jekko a dour glance. She picked and opened crates at random, coming across caches of sonic grenades and inserts for body armor.

Jones found a rack of oval metal clamps that she couldn't identify. "What are these?"

Jekko took one from her hand and held it up. "Pintle brackets. They slot into sockets on the flatbeds of skimmers so that you can mount weapons on them. A few of these, some heavy phaser rifles, and you can turn any civilian airtruck into an infantry fighting vehicle." He shot Nechayev a look. "Very useful for an invading army."

But the agent wasn't paying attention. She had moved into the center of the broad storage chamber, to a series of low, wide shapes that crouched close to the floor. In the dimness, Jones couldn't make out what they were. Perhaps they were more lines of containers packed close together. The ozone odor was stronger here, and with it came the scent of lubricants.

Nechayev reached down to take the end of a plastic sheath that hung loose over the object. With a jerk of her wrist, she pulled it up and away to reveal what was underneath.

Jones let out a gasp of fright as she realized she was staring into the black maw of an energy cannon.

"Grav-tank," said Nechayev, instantly recognizing the lethal scarab-like form of the Carda.s.sian machine's hull, "Janad "Janad-cla.s.s. Main armament: single spiral-wave disruptor cannon. Secondary weapons: stun-field emitters and phaser turrets." She ran her hand over the sloping hull plates. "Reactive armor. Shock b.u.mpers. It's been configured for urban pacification." Nechayev's mind caught up with her, and she panned the tricorder over the vehicle.

Jones walked around the tank, pointing wordlessly off into the darkness. There were dozens more shapes beneath sheets of heavy plastic. "How did they get them here?"

"In pieces, probably." Nechayev gave a humorless chuckle. "In boxes labeled 'tractor parts' and 'baby milk.'"

"And this is only one blockhouse," said Jekko. "There are dozens of similar buildings in every enclave on Bajor." He was pale with shock. "Fire's sake, we never thought there would be things like this..." He stared at the inert war machine. "An entire armored division, right outside the gates of the city. Just waiting for the right moment." Abruptly, the Bajoran shook off his surprise and glared at the Starfleet officer. "Is this proof enough for your Federation, Alla, or whatever your real name is? Tanks and guns, ready to be used?"

Nechayev nodded. "I think so."

The light was so powerful that Jones was instantly blinded the moment it fell on her. She cried out and her hands flew to her face, clawing at needles of pain in her eyes.

"Stay where you are!" barked a voice. "Do not move!"

Carda.s.sians! What Jones had thought was fear was swept aside in a tide of even more intense terror. She was rooted to the spot, her thoughts racing away in a rush of panic. What Jones had thought was fear was swept aside in a tide of even more intense terror. She was rooted to the spot, her thoughts racing away in a rush of panic. They've found us I'm captured I'll be left behind tortured beaten raped killed thousands of light-years from home- They've found us I'm captured I'll be left behind tortured beaten raped killed thousands of light-years from home- She reached out toward the blurry man-shape in black armor. "Please..."

"I said, do not move!"

Her vision cleared enough to see the guard aim his pistol at her head.

Jekko threw himself over the turret of the tank and down onto the Carda.s.sian glinn, and the beam went wide, screeching through the air. He was briefly aware of the dark-haired girl screaming, collapsing; then the alien was at his throat and choking the life from him. Jekko yanked the Carda.s.sian toward him and b.u.t.ted him hard across the nose, the Bajoran's head snapping the cartilage where he struck.

The impact made his head ring and the glinn dropped away, moaning.

"Gwen!" shouted the other woman, racing to the side of her companion.

Gwen. At least I know the name of one of them. "Is she dead?" "Is she dead?"

"Not yet." The reply was a snarl. The one who called herself Alla pulled her friend to her feet. Gwen was barely conscious, her right cheek discolored from the nimbus of a near hit from the phaser shot.

Klaxons began to wail. Scanners must have registered the weapon discharge. Scanners must have registered the weapon discharge. He took a step toward them and nodded toward the hatch in the floor. "Get her out of here. You have what is needed. Take it and go." The overhead lights set in the ceiling snapped on one after another, banishing the shadows. Suddenly they were exposed, pinned by the stark illumination. He took a step toward them and nodded toward the hatch in the floor. "Get her out of here. You have what is needed. Take it and go." The overhead lights set in the ceiling snapped on one after another, banishing the shadows. Suddenly they were exposed, pinned by the stark illumination.

"He...he's coming with us," groaned Gwen.

Jekko ignored her and pressed an isolinear chip into the other woman's hand. "This is your escape route. I have a warp-capable courier at the starport in Korto. Use it and get out of Bajoran s.p.a.ce. Go to your people, show them what's happening here."

"I will," the agent promised. "Thank you."

"He's coming with us," Gwen repeated weakly.

Jekko bent down and scooped up the unconscious Carda.s.sian's phaser, turning his back on the women. Farther down the length of the blockhouse a door slid open and more armed guards came running.

He took careful aim and started firing.

Everything pa.s.sed in a blur of pain and hazy images. Jones's right side felt like it was on fire, every nerve across the bare skin of her face throbbing with waves of burning pain. She couldn't see properly, just indistinct forms and blobs of dark and light.

"d.a.m.n it, girl, keep moving!" Nechayev's breath was hot and close in her ear, and she could feel the whipcord muscle of the intelligence operative where the woman was pressed against her, supporting Jones's sluggish flesh. "One foot in front of the other, come on!"

The grumble of stone on stone threaded down the tunnel behind them, and Jones tasted acrid dust in her mouth. "I hear thunder," she slurred.

"Grenades," was the curt reply. "They're sweeping through the tunnels after us, blasting as they go. Trying to flush us out."

"Oh." The information was washed away in another wave of agony. "Jekko?" Just working the muscles of her face was painful, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Where?"

Nechayev's answer was forlorn. "He covered for us. Held them off." She swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "The man bought us time. We owe him not to waste a second of it."

Jones nodded brokenly. Up ahead, she could make out the tunnel entrance as a circle of fainter shadow.

"Report," demanded Dukat, crossing the Vandir Vandir's bridge to the communications station.

"Alert from the Korto Enclave, sir," said the glinn. "Details of an intrusion into one of the staging areas by three unidentified Bajorans."

A nerve in Dukat's jaw rippled. "Show me," he growled, throwing a look in Tunol's direction. "Those facilities are supposed to be secure."

"They couldn't have beamed in," offered the woman.

"Any transporters would have been blocked by the inhibitor screen."

Still images drawn from a security drone appeared on the main viewscreen. Dukat saw a Carda.s.sian at the feet of a bald male Bajoran and two more females, one supporting another. Part of a tank was visible in the corner of the frame. "They can't be allowed to speak of what they've seen," said the gul.

"The male intruder was terminated on-site," continued the communications officer as a grainy representation of the bald man appeared. "The two female intruders are currently unaccounted for. Search is ongoing."

Tunol skimmed the report on a padd. "Apparently, they entered the complex through the old agricultural infrastructure."

Dukat's eyes narrowed. "Two females," he repeated. "Enhance that image. I want to see their faces."

The glinn obeyed, and Dukat found himself looking at two Bajoran women, one fierce in aspect, the other lolling in her arms, apparently injured. It's them. It's them. The certainty of it struck him immediately. The certainty of it struck him immediately.

"Sir." Tunol approached him, seeing the same thing. "Do you think that-"

"They match the Xepolite's description of the women he brought from Draygo," he snapped. "Contact detention and have him make a formal identification to confirm it." Dukat turned and strode toward the turbolift. "In the meantime, I want a cutter and a security detachment ready to depart for Korto City by the time I get to the shuttlebay."

"This alert is on the wideband, Gul," Tunol added.

"Every security operative on the planet, Carda.s.sian and Bajoran, will know their faces in a matter of hours. Is it necessary for you to take a personal involvement in this?"

He paused at the door. "If Ico locates these females first, they will vanish as if they never existed." Dukat shook his head. "I won't allow that to happen."

Darrah Mace lolled in his chair, hovering on the edge of a shallow doze. An untouched cup of spiced deka deka tea on his desk had gone cold, and out beyond the shuttered gla.s.s enclosure of his office the precinct was quiet. He had lost track of time; his days seemed to do that more often than not. Sometimes Darrah would look up and realize that he hadn't left the building for a week, sleeping in his office or up in the bunk room for the shift staff. He didn't enjoy going home anymore. The house was too big for one person, and he rattled around inside it whenever he was there; but then, he couldn't bring himself to think about selling it. Even after the divorce, that seemed like admitting defeat. At the precinct there was always life and clamor. He could rest around that; he needed the noise and commotion to center himself. The silence of empty rooms kept him awake at night. tea on his desk had gone cold, and out beyond the shuttered gla.s.s enclosure of his office the precinct was quiet. He had lost track of time; his days seemed to do that more often than not. Sometimes Darrah would look up and realize that he hadn't left the building for a week, sleeping in his office or up in the bunk room for the shift staff. He didn't enjoy going home anymore. The house was too big for one person, and he rattled around inside it whenever he was there; but then, he couldn't bring himself to think about selling it. Even after the divorce, that seemed like admitting defeat. At the precinct there was always life and clamor. He could rest around that; he needed the noise and commotion to center himself. The silence of empty rooms kept him awake at night.

His back was tense and he got up, stretching. Motion caught his eye outside, and he opened the door. Myda and Proka were standing around a monitor console, downloading a priority report onto padds. "What's this?"

Myda nodded. "A security alert from the Carda.s.sian enclave."

Darrah grimaced. "Let me guess. Some kid sprayed 'Spoonheads Go Home' on the walls again?"

"It's a bit more serious than that, boss." Proka's tone brought him up short. "Several fatalities. One intruder dead at the scene, two fugitives unaccounted for."

Darrah pushed forward. Suddenly he was wide-awake. "Let me see."

"They're claiming three people broke into the enclave," Myda explained, "killed a bunch of Carda.s.sians, and tried to blow up some civilians. 'Suspected Tzenkethi or Circle agents,' it says here."

"A man and two women," added Proka, pa.s.sing Darrah a padd. "I was about to run a facial match with the criminal records database and the citizen register, see if we can pull some ident.i.ties."

Darrah tapped the keypad, and the image of the male suspect appeared before him. His blood ran cold. Jekko? Jekko? His old friend's face stared up at him, slack in death; the image had clearly been captured only moments after he had been killed. "When..." He heard his own voice as if it was coming from miles away. "When did this happen?" His old friend's face stared up at him, slack in death; the image had clearly been captured only moments after he had been killed. "When..." He heard his own voice as if it was coming from miles away. "When did this happen?"

"Within the last hour," said Myda. "This is going out to every precinct on the planet." She sniffed. "As if we don't have a big enough caseload."

Proka was watching his commander carefully. "Sir? What do you want us to do with this? It's a priority alert, immediate attention required."

"If the other intruders, the women, are mobile, it's likely they'd be heading straight here," noted Myda. "They get into the city, they could disappear."

The inspector's knuckles were white around the padd. "I need to...I need to look at this," he managed. "Don't move on it until I give you the word."

"Sir?" said Myda, but he was walking away, Darrah went back into his office and dropped into the chair. Jekko is dead. Jekko is dead. The image was burned in his mind. A good, trustworthy man with a keen wit, the kind of man you wanted guarding your back, cold and dead in some Carda.s.sian morgue. His fist bunched and he slammed it on his desk, knocking over the cup. The image was burned in his mind. A good, trustworthy man with a keen wit, the kind of man you wanted guarding your back, cold and dead in some Carda.s.sian morgue. His fist bunched and he slammed it on his desk, knocking over the cup.

"Boss." Proka was at the door, holding it open. "We got a problem?"

For a second, Darrah considered sending him away, but then he beckoned him in. "Come here, Mig, and close that behind you."

Proka did as he was told. "I saw the look on your face. You know the man."

"Like he was family." Darrah's voice caught. "I can't believe it. He always seemed fireproof, always surviving the worst through basic training and out on the street..."

"He was one of us?"

A nod. "He was my partner when we were Watchmen." A pained smile crossed his lips. "He would always joke and rub the scars under his stubble. 'I'm too vulgar to die,' he would say. 'Prophets won't take a man as crude as me for fear of dirtying the Celestial Temple.' He said that's why they kept him alive." Darrah's expression hardened. "And now he's dead, shot for breaking into a Carda.s.sian enclave."

"They said he was trying to plant a bomb."

"That's s.h.i.t!" Darrah was on his feet, enraged. "Jekko Tybe is not a terrorist! I've known the man for twenty years, on my mother's grave I'd swear that!"

"Jekko?" Proka repeated. "I know that name. Didn't he run Keeve Falor's security before the minister went to Valo?" He shook his head. "Boss, when the Cardies find that out, they'll sing it from the rooftops. They've already got a shuttle on the way down from orbit with a sweep squad aboard."

Darrah stared at the pictures of the women who had fled. "I don't know these two." A decision formed in his mind. "Get me anything you can on them. If anyone is going to know what happened to him, they will."

"If the Carda.s.sians find them first, they'll be gone like they never existed."

He nodded grimly, his mind racing, the grief and anger at his friend's death put aside as he fell into the familiar mode of investigation. "Myda's right, if they're running, they'll run to Korto."

Proka returned the nod. "I could make Jekko's files get lost for a while."

"Do that," he ordered, working the computer on his desk. "I think I might know where they're going. Keeve Falor still owns some interests on Bajor, and one of them is a storage hangar out at the port." He turned the screen so Proka could read it. "There's a ship there right now."

"You think that's their escape route?" The constable frowned. "You're making a bit of a leap there, boss." He studied the monitor. "The Kaska, Kaska, a light courier..." a light courier..."

Darrah grabbed his holster and strapped it on. "Kaska was the name of Tybe's mother." He made for the door and felt Proka's hand on his shoulder.