The space was little more than two meters across,
a vault cut into the side of a tunnel to store
construction supplies. It was enough.
Leaving Ram in the dimly lit space to recover,
Hodak rushed to an exit, surfaced, took his
bearings, and found Brad in his office. Brad
immediately sensed the urgency from Hodak's
expression.
"Let's get our people together," Brad ordered.
Hodak quickly passed the word and, within minutes,
the Sentinels convened in an empty air lock.
Myra left for headquarters to cover; the remainder
strung out behind Hodak to the subsurface vault
where he'd left Ram.
##
"And that's it." Ram finished recapping his trip as
he gingerly rubbed the large bruise on his head.
"They're lining up for a confrontation," he said,
"both political and military, and Slingshot is the
club they'll hold over us. They think they smell
the blood of victory, and there isn't a cool head
among them."
He turned to Brad.
"Your message was incomplete," he said. "What
was left out?"
"Narval's planning guidance on the assault launch
point," Brad replied, citing the coordinates,
bringing Ram up to date.
They were silent as Ram mulled over his options.
Sighing, he rose and stretched his frame, bending
slightly to keep his head from scraping against the
vault's roof.
"The attack on me must have been approved by
Narval," he said. "My feeling is he didn't want to
talk to me because his preparations and commitments
are too far along. He feared that, had we met, I
might get enough from our discussions to see his
game plan. I've got to get home -- fast." Grinning
at Brad, he asked, "OK, how are you going to get
me out of this rat's nest and back to my ship?"
##
Narval screeched, face twisted, hands pounding
the desk.
"What do you mean, standing there and telling me
you've lost track of your people? Not that I give a
damn about them, but you gave them a simple job
to do, and I want to know, now, where it stands."
"That's just it, Mr. President," Scarf said, his
normally ruddy face gray with fear. "I haven't
received a 'sitrep' from my agent-in-charge. I did
get an interim report from the back-up observer
I assigned to track them from the Charnel Pit.
According to him, the Ambassador was taken into
custody immediately upon leaving the bar. Along the
way he resisted and had to be -- uh -- restrained.
Everything looked to be under control, so the
observer left to report."
"Tell me precisely what you ordered your agent to
do."
"Identify himself as coming from Drummer. Take
the Ambassador into custody under the pretext of
escorting him to a private meeting with you. While
in custody, and without witnesses, Xindral was to
be terminated and his body buried in a tunnel. The
site was to be returned to its original appearance,
and Xindral's possessions brought to me."
"Where is this site located?"
"My agent was to give me the exact location when
he delivered the Ambassador's personal effects."
"You mean you don't even know where to start
looking? Is that what you're saying?"
"I know the location where they took him down.
Well, I got a problem there too; the subsurface
junction branches off in several directions."
"Is it possible Xindral overcame his restraints
and neutralized your team?"
"Not likely, sir. The observer said he saw
sufficient force used against Xindral when he
resisted to render him unconscious."
Narval sank back into his chair, head lowered,
staring into his lap. Raising his head, he fixed
burning eyes on Scarf.
"Despite your assurances, Scarf, I think it not
only possible, but likely, that Xindral got away
from your team. For all you know, your goons
may be in hiding, afraid to face you with the truth.
If Xindral's still alive, he must have concluded by
now that the attempt against him would not have
occurred without my approval. So, we're committed,
and I can't afford to wait."
He pointed a shaking finger at Scarf.
"Xindral can leave Coldfield only through an air
lock. Post extra guards. Deploy patrols to strips
leading to air locks on the perimeter. Mark him
as a newly arrived renegade, a killer and genetic
flake dangerous to Coldfield's safety. Order your
people to take no chances with him; he is to be
destroyed on sight. I want Xindral found, and
I want him dead. Do it. Now! Move!"
##
Hodak was back from scouting the tunnel up ahead.
The way was clear with an exit a kilometer distant.
The opposite direction would lead them back to the
center of Coldfield.
Brad cocked an eyebrow at Ram. Ram nodded.
Hodak and Kumiko took point, Brad behind Ram. Zolan
and Adari rear guard. They covered ground swiftly.
The passageway widened, and a ramp led up to
a mezzanine from which other tunnels branched.
Ascending the ramp Hodak disappeared into a low,
narrow entryway in the wall. The others followed.
Ram folded to his knees and went flat to squeeze
through. The cut ended abruptly at a rock face.
A ladder rose to the dim outline of a manhole.
Kumiko climbed and slipped a slender filament
through the tiny gap between the edge of the
utility cover and its frame. Below, Zolan inserted
the free end of the filament into a clip on the
bridge of a pair of goggles, and donned them.
"Up a mite," he called to Kumiko. "OK, hold it,
now scan a 360, slow."
He gave the goggles to Brad who donned them
and scoped the ground level through the filament.
"The manhole is in a cul-de-sac, closed in on three
sides by walls set back about two meters from where
we are. The cul-de-sac accesses a street on which
traffic is passing. The dome's inside wall is on
the far side, and I see some markings on it. Each
of you, look about and get your bearings. Speak up
if you recognize the area or the markings."
The goggles passed from one to the other. Zolan
tossed them up to Kumiko at the top of the ladder
and caught them when they were lowered. He handed
them to Ram who peered at the ground scene as he
listened.
"Strip markings," Adari said. "They're usually
located to orient folks coming in from the outside.
My guess is we're close to a strip or an air lock."
"Any idea which one?" Brad asked.
"Not from appearances," Adari replied, "but I kept
track of our twists and turns to this point, and
the way I figure, we're in the western quadrant of
the city. The sector has more air locks than the
others because it's on the main route to landing
pads for the maintenance shops. We've lucked out
-- maybe."
"What do you mean by 'maybe'? Don't hold back."
"The traffic. More people about."
The silence was heavy.
"If we can make it to an air lock without being
challenged," Brad said, "we'll get Ram to a taxi.
Hodak, can you rig a taxi to manual control and
leave it with enough power for a one-time flight
through the depot's cocoon?"
Hodak, Zolan and Adari put their heads together.
Ram shoved his head in among them, and vigorous
hand motions cut the air. Ram nodded as Hodak
turned back to Brad.
"Can do," he said.
"Next item," Brad said. "Ram, can you get your
long frame into a standard suit?"
"Once we get into the air lock I'll look for the
biggest suit on the rack. Then I'll just have to
push, pull and squeeze. Won't be the first time."
Brad looked up at Kumiko, holding the scope in
place.
"Got it?" He called up.
"Yep."
"Comments?"
"As long as I'm up here, how about me taking point?"
"OK. Now, all of you. Set weapons at max. If
we're seen and tied to Ram, the whole operation
is compromised. So we'll have no witnesses. Act
accordingly."
Kumiko pushed the manhole lid aside, climbed out
and darted forward to where she could see along
the street. She took in the scene quickly.
Several people passed on a nearby strip. They did
not notice Kumiko. She waited until they passed
where they could have seen into the cul-de-sac,
then signaled the others up.
As Zolan came abreast of Kumiko he drew
a pencil-thin tube from a pocket in his tunic.
Holding it in one hand he twisted the knurled knob
that formed one end, and returned it to his pocket.
He winked at Brad who had come up beside him.
Brad saw the question in Ram's eyes.
"One of Zolan's home-grown gadgets," he said.
"Sets up an omni-interference field for a couple
of hundred meters. We'll be moving through
comm-override chatter until he switches it off."