The Hunted Assassin (7 page)

“Yes, I know. But right now, we need to be someplace else. There can be no trace of our presence in this sector.”

“Director, can’t we—”

“That’s an order, Perry. Get us out of here, now,” the director said before walking out of the communication center.

Mission conclusion: failed.

Comments: Operatives lost in unexpected explosion during implementation phase. Bodies unrecoverable due to zero atmosphere.

10

Vibrations rose up through the hull and nearly shook Jaxon from the pilot’s chair. As he snapped to attention, he wiped the sleep from his eyes, pushing away the memories from his past.

Having already disabled the proximity sensors and alarms on the ship, he was unaware of the attack. Now, it was too late.

He brought up the ship’s sensors and noticed several approaching ships, coming from both the moon base and the space station. He checked his ETA to moon base: sixteen minutes. At the speed of the advancing ships, he knew that he’d never make it. He cursed at himself repeatedly for his extravagant exit from Taloo Station.

After assessing all of his options, it became apparent what his next move would be.

“It’s time to play possum once again,” he said aloud.

Jaxon activated the defense shields and reconfirmed the autopilot’s program. With everything still good for a moon base destination, he stepped away from the control panel to headed for the belly of the ship.

Having passed through only the main corridor of the ship when he first boarded, Jaxon was unsure if the Bradbury was properly equipped.

In nearly every ship manufactured in the past ten years, at least one escape vessel was included. But only as an added option. He found it odd that even with the advancement of space travel in the last quarter century, escape pods weren’t mandatory.

As Jaxon rushed along, he hoped that the buyer of this particular vessel picked up at least the minimalist form of escape.

As he reached the back of the ship, he found a ship’s ladder leading down. Quickly descending into the darkness, Jaxon found himself standing in the cargo hold. It was too dark to see much, but he could just make out a faint glow on the side wall. The control panel. A quick tap on the touch screen and the ship’s systems were at his fingertips. A few more taps and the overhead lights brought him from the darkness.

Being able to see clearly now, Jaxon moved ahead, dismissing the various crates and cargo bins lashed to the side walls. At the forward end of the long cargo bay, he found what he was looking for, and silently thanked whoever it was that was looking out for him. It was an escape pod.

Wasting no time, Jaxon analyzed the locking mechanism and access panel then initiated activation protocols. Within moments, the pod’s lights flickered to life.

Ignoring the continued warning shots exploding just outside the hull, Jaxon gripped the grab bar at the top of the entrance portal and kicked his legs into the chamber.

“Sonofabitch,” he mumbled. The pod was no bigger than a vintage telephone booth back on earth.

How in the hell did they expect the whole crew to escape in a pod sized for a single person?
he wondered.

As he rested on the launch couch, he looked over the minimalistic control panel, familiarizing himself with its use. There wasn’t much he could control, though. Other than setting a destination and clicking ENGAGE, it was virtually useless.

Because of its compact size, the speed was limited to the stored energy power at the base of the vessel. It was some kind of energy drive that was no doubt limited in its distance capabilities as well. Seeing as he was less than twenty minutes away from the moon, he disregarded the concern and activated the remaining exiting procedures on the panel. The display indicated that escape would be possible in ninety seconds.

Jaxon crawled back out into the Bradbury and retraced his steps back up to the bridge. Once back in front of the main control panel, he disengaged the engines and felt the momentum slow instantly. Next, he accessed a submenu for exterior door closures and scanned through the list of portals until he found what he was looking for. He initiated full exterior door lock up and hit execute. As he watched the display, the exterior view of the ship filled the screen. To his satisfaction, each of the thruster and impulse outlets were closing as ordered. His happiness quickly turned to worry as he saw the escape pod door close as well.

“Shit.”

Jaxon dropped to his knees and ducked beneath the control panel once again. He withdrew a bundle of wires, sorting through them until he found the right one. Jaxon quickly severed the wire with a firm yank. Leaning back up to see the display, he was happy to see the escape pod door reopen.

Standing back up, he grabbed his satchel before entering the final command into the control panel. He transferred full engine control to the cargo bay before racing back through the ship.

Once back in the cargo bay, Jaxon opened his satchel and removed all of his collected weapons and ammunition. He tossed them on the floor, annoyed that he’d be arriving on the moon unarmed. He knew though that, ever since the terrorist attack on the space elevator all those years ago, security was at a heightened state. Even eight years later. He knew that he would never make it into Luna City carrying so much as harsh language. He un-holstered the last two weapons from his person and tossed them to the ground as well.

Finally, Jaxon brought up the ship’s engine controls and re-engaged the impulse engines. He’d already disengaged the safety measures in place that prevented it from firing with the rear hatch closed, and he knew that he’d have less than a minute before the system overloaded and a hull breach would destroy the ship.

He ran forward and quickly dropped back into the escape pod, closing the door and activating hailing frequencies at the same time.

“Mayday—Mayday. This is Martin Wheeler on Bradbury 9613. I have an engine failure warning, and I can’t deactivate it. Mayday—Mayday. Send …” Jaxon flipped off the comms and jettisoned the escape pod.

As the pod launched away from the Bradbury, Jaxon deactivated all forms of power, except life support. He hoped that it would appear as just part of the ship’s debris after the explosion. The explosion that was about to light up space as far as the eye could see.

Ten seconds later, it happened. The damage began at the rear of the ship, right where the impulse drive doors blocked the output. The carbon fiber reinforced metal shrouds began to glow from the intense heat, then they disintegrated. The damage was already done, though, and the engines overheated, blowing off the rear quarter of the ship. As debris began to jettison away from the ship, the forward two-thirds of the ship imploded due to the sudden pressure change. The force blew even more debris out into space.

11

Jaxon was thankful that none of the debris from the exploding ship flew directly at his escape pod. It was a calculated risk, but it was one that he was willing to take. One that he had to take, or risk being captured. Or worse: being killed.

All he had to do now, was wait. With any luck—luck that he might have already used up on his escape—the chasing security ships would survey the area and determine the ship destroyed: no survivors.

As those wishful thoughts ran through his mind, he suddenly realized that the escape pod might have some kind of homing device installed that would certainly foil his plan. As fast as he could, Jaxon tapped away at the control panel, searching for some form of rooted directory that mentioned anything about system automation. After several minutes of cycling through every category on the display, he concluded that if the escape pod was equipped with a homing beacon, it was not wired into the computer system. He had to rely on luck.

“Damn,” Jaxon cursed.

Patience was not one of Jaxon’s strong points. He continually fought the urge to enter his destination of Luna City into the control panel and hit execute.

To pass the time, he opened all radio frequencies and keenly listened for any chatter between the pursuing security ships. All he heard was silence.

Seconds turned to minutes, and Jaxon could only wait. He disengaged his safety harness and floated toward the single view portal in the vessel, hoping to catch a glimpse of any approaching ships, but the constant drift and rotation of the escape pod made it nearly impossible for him to determine which direction they would be coming from.

Frustrated at his helpless situation, he refastened his harness and thought of something, anything to take his mind off his current dilemma. Before long, more flashes from his past took his mind from the present.

Nine years ago — Berkley, California, Earth.

“I can’t believe this,” Lily gasped. “Why are you even telling me this?”

Jaxon stared at her for a moment longer before shifting his eyes to the seven-year-old girl playing across the room. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s because of her.” Jaxon nodded in the child’s direction.

“If you think I’m going to tell her now, just because ...” Lily began.

“No,” Jaxon insisted, returning his gaze toward his old flame. “Not at all. I just … I don’t know. I just thought that if you knew ahead of time, it wouldn’t come as such a shock. I’ll leave it up to you whether to tell her who I really am … er, was.”

Jaxon’s attention returned to the girl. She was busy pouring make-believe tea for her party guests—two inanimate dolls propped up on small plastic chairs. Jaxon had lied: he did want Celeste to know who he was so he could hold her, as her father, just once. He wanted her to know exactly how much he loved her and how important she was to him. It was because of her and Lily that Jaxon had even come up with the absurd idea in the first place.

The silence in the room was uncomfortable as they both continued to look on as Celeste continued her tea party. Finally, Lily broke the silence.

“Do you know how much of an asshole you are right now?” she asked, her cheeks turning red from the anger building up. “You are nonexistent in our lives for the past five years, with no word or mention of where you are or what you are doing, then, you just show up here, unannounced? And then you drop that news that you’re going to kill yourself like it’s just a regular event … like brushing your teeth?”

“It’s not like that, Lily. You know why I couldn’t contact you. It’s this goddamn job,” Jaxon said.

“Still, a postcard would’ve been nice,” she said. “At the very least. You know, even just saying that you’re alive and have a nice day.”

“I know you’re upset, but there are reasons why I’m doing this now.”

“So you can run away … from all the world’s trouble on your shoulders … to stick your head in the sand?” she asked.

“Partly. I don’t know …” Jaxon paused, contemplating how much he should tell her. “I don’t want to put you and Celeste in any danger. The less you know, the better your life will be. Besides, I’m not really going to kill myself.”

“Oh, sorry. I had no idea that you were going to be deceitful about killing yourself. That makes everything so much better,” Lily said, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“Trust me, Lily. This is the best scenario. You know they’ll never let me just quit, and I’m tired of being their in-house mercenary. I always thought that joining the GSA meant so much more.”

“Have you even tried to talk to Perry about leaving? I was able to get out, or did you forget about that?” she asked.

Jaxon did remember her leaving the GSA shortly after the Academy. The situation was quite different. She was pregnant with his child, and she had not gone covert yet. Of course, the company let her out.

“I talked with him. Well, not in a straight up, ‘Hey man, I want to quit’ approach, but we’ve talked around the subject a few times.”

“You see? That’s why you’re never going to amount to much in life. You’re too much of a coward to confront what’s important to you. That’s why Celeste will never know who her father was.” Lily wiped a fleeting tear from her cheek. “So. When is this masquerade going to happen? Does anyone else know?”

“Gillette knows. We’ve got a couple opportunities to pull it off in the coming weeks, but nothing is for certain yet.”

“And Gillette’s okay with this? Of all people, I thought he’d be the one to talk some sense into you,” Lily said.

“It was his idea. He’s … going with me. He’s just as tired of being the company’s assassin.”

Lily winced at hearing Jaxon’s true profession. In all the years that she’d known him, he never actually told her what he did, but she knew how nefarious his profession could be. Actually, she was quite relieved all those years ago when she had gotten pregnant. Just a few years in the Academy was long enough for her to realize how dishonest the Global Security Agency really was.

“I’m sure there is going to be a big investigation after the event, and you have to promise me that no matter what happens, you have to protect Celeste. You cannot let on that you knew about any of this. For your safety and hers.”

“You actually think they’d come after us?” Lily asked.

Jaxon shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know. I can only trust a handful of people in the company, and it just depends whose desk the news crosses first.”