Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings) (21 page)

BOOK: Clan and Conviction (Clan Beginnings)
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Shots fired from the mouth of the cave where the gang had taken shelter from the shuttle.  Gelan returned fire, part of the barrage the enforcer squads sent at the lab defenders as they closed the distance.  Men on both sides were going down now, some officers taking head shots where the protective armor could not defend them.  Rage at seeing good men die poured through Gelan’s body.  He shrieked at the criminals as he came on, only a couple of steps slower than the also howling Wynhod.

He was so intent on leveling the gang members that the deep thud coming from within the cave and shaking the surface beneath his feet didn’t immediately register.  Wynhod spun around and launched himself at Gelan, knocking him to the ground.  The Nobek crouched over him, shielding his body with his own.

His partner yelled, “Stay down!  The bastards are blowing the facility!”

Fire, rock, and tremendous heat suddenly blew from the cavern’s entrance.  Metallic, stone, and human debris flew and rained down over them.  Gelan wrapped his armor-padded arms around Wynhod’s head, trying to keep his Nobek from taking a hit to the skull from the larger bits.  Meanwhile, Wynhod sheltered him with his body, protecting his Dramok.

After a few moments, the rumbling of the earth passed.  Wynhod moved, and Gelan released his hold on his partner so that they could look at each other.

“All right?” the enforcer asked.

“Yeah.  You?”

Wynhod grimaced.  “I’m good, but there’s probably no one left to shoot.”

“Try not to let it ruin your day, my Nobek.”

They grinned at each other.  Wynhod climbed to his feet, and Gelan accepted his hand up.  They stood and looked at the carnage.

The cave entrance was much larger than before.  Now it didn’t look so much like a cave as a gaping mouth, as if the earth itself shrieked silently over what had been done to it.  Twisted metal pieces, a moonscape of scattered rocks and stones, and burnt body parts lay everywhere.  Gelan decided Wynhod was right:  there was no one left to shoot.

“Shit,” he breathed.  “Well, at least we got that undercover footage.  That’s all that’s fucking left here.”

“And whatever they managed to load into those transports,” Wynhod said sympathetically.  Gelan brightened a little.  He’d forgotten about that.

The site commander’s voice filled his earpiece.  “Teams, check in with your squad commanders, report any injuries.  Get a perimeter around this mess and keep an eye out for hostiles.”

Gelan muttered.  “I want to see someone walk out of that.  Damn it, there goes a shitload of evidence.”

Gij was still talking.  “Clear the wreckage of anyone alive.  You know your sections.  As soon as everyone reports in, I want emergency services, fire control, and forensics report in.”

Since Gelan and Wynhod weren’t part of any of the squads, they simply stood and watched, staying out of everyone’s way.  Gelan couldn’t take his eyes off the huge hole where the lab had been. 

He told Wynhod, “There must have been something more incriminating than Delir in there for them to blow themselves to oblivion with it.  Fifty years hard labor for manufacture and distribution is no picnic, but it’s better than dying.  I wonder what secret they were protecting?  Or who?”

Wynhod gave him an impatient look.  “Since when do you play in theory instead of evidence?  You’re starting to sound like that Imdiko psych.”

Gelan narrowed his eyes.  “Krijero was right about Latwik.  Don’t sell him short.”

“I’m not.  I’m just saying there’s no point in seeing a bigger picture when there isn’t one.  You saw the military-grade shit they were using.  If you ask me, someone simply fucked up in there, getting ready to use a piece of weaponry against us that they couldn’t handle.”

“That’s something else.  Where did they get this shit?  How is it battle gear got into the hands of civilians, many of whom no doubt have criminal records?  Explain that to me.  I’ll even let you use small words you understand.”

Wynhod not so playfully punched his shoulder.  The armored sleeve took the bruising force out of the blow.  “Just wait until you get all the evidence, okay?  You’re no brain trust yourself, you know.”

* * * *

Two days after the Delir lab exploded, Gelan and Wynhod sat at their desks, sifting through forensic reports.  Most of the machinery used to concoct Delir had been destroyed in the blast, but enough had been loaded onto the transports to get a good idea of what the gang had been working with.

Gelan shook his head in amazement.  “Are you seeing these components?”

For once, the Nobek wasn’t griping about desk work.  He seemed suitably awed by the evidence.  “That was some serious machinery.  They knew what they were doing, all right.”

“It was all high-grade, precision equipment.  They put a small fortune into this stuff before they blew most of it to hell.”

Wynhod smirked.  “No way that gang had the capital to run more than one lab.  All the Delir is gone.  Of course, enforcement is going to be working overtime while the addicts come off that crap.”

Gelan nodded.  “We will definitely see an uptick in violence throughout the territory.  Thank the ancestors the media channels agreed to run warnings through the next few days’ broadcasts.”

“Putting the worst of the known affected areas under lockdown should help a little.  The hospitals are on alert too.”  Wynhod snorted.  “Who knew solving the Delir issue would make things harder on everyone?”

“Temporary problem,” Gelan said with no small amount of pride.  Wynhod had been right; getting the Delir out of circulation was decent compensation for not getting his hands on the gang leadership.  The horror of watching hallucinating addicts in withdrawal attack the innocent was coming to a close.

His emergency com went off.  Exchanging a startled look with Wynhod, Gelan rushed to answer it.  “Investigator Gelan.”

The dispatcher’s voice came over the frequency.  “Investigator, there is a situation that needs your attention.  We have a hostage situation involving a Nobek Huk.  He’s holding a clan with children hostage.  He demands to talk to the lead investigator on the Delir case or he will kill the entire family.”

Nobek Huk.  He was one of the third-tier gang members that had gone missing following the raids on the meeting places.  One of the men Gelan had been desperate to find.

…holding a clan with children … will kill the entire family
.

Remembering the snarling bearded face on his vid file, the man’s thick eyebrows drawn down low over eyes feral with hate, Gelan could well believe Huk would kill children.  Such a person would be nearly impossible to negotiate with.

Strapping on his belt with its complement of knives, blaster, and tools, Gelan said to the dispatcher, “Transmit all information to my system.  We’re on our way.”

“Confirmed.”  Gelan heard the response from a distance as he and Wynhod were already leaving the department.

Instead of heading down the corridor towards the shuttle bay, Gelan ran in the opposite direction.  Wynhod’s steps faltered for only an instant before following him.

“Gelan?”  The Nobek’s tone was understandably confused.

“I know, I know.  I want Krijero to go with us.  I need to know how to handle this.”

Gelan hoped the Imdiko was on his game today.  The stakes were incredibly high.

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

The hostages were being held in their home in the Blidmo Mountain Complex where Gelan and Wynhod lived.  Clan Sorp, the victims in question, lived only two levels higher than Gelan’s.  Their section possessed a fountain in the middle of the interior space, shopping, and family-friendly eateries.  One could walk to everything he needed if he lived here.  Gelan knew there was even a running path cut into the outside of the mountain at this level, accessible solely to those who made the seventh level their home.  One had to have a full clan with children or the potential for children to reside in this section.  Nobek Huk had chosen his target well.

Gelan, Wynhod, and Krijero arrived at the scene.  Enforcers, snipers, and other personnel were crowded in front of one housing unit with a blaster-proof containment screen between them and the closed door.  Most were milling around, the Nobeks of the group looking particularly fierce and eager to do something … like storm the home and snatch innocents away from the danger.  A sense of anticipation rose from the group as they saw Gelan and Wynhod hurrying towards them.  Krijero lagged a little behind, his anxious gaze taking in the tableau.  He had been extremely reluctant to come along, only convinced by the fact children were endangered and he might be able to help keep them alive.

Gelan spotted one of the precinct’s negotiators, a Dramok named Fritom.  Noticing Krijero dragging his feet, Gelan grabbed the lanky Imdiko by one arm and tugged him over to the negotiator who held a com in a white-knuckled grip.  Despite the protective barrier keeping them safe from anyone who might burst out of the home with a blaster, Wynhod stuck close.  He even placed himself so that his body shielded Gelan and Krijero’s.

The moment they reached Fritom, Gelan nodded to the negotiator.  “I hear Nobek Huk is looking for me.”

Fritom’s jaw clenched tight as he looked up at Gelan.  “He’s most anxious to speak to you.  Quite frankly, I don’t know what talking to him will do besides put off the inevitable.  Nobek Huk feels he has nothing to lose.”

Krijero wasted no time on niceties.  “How many of the hostages has he killed?”

Fritom regarded the Imdiko with narrowed eyes.  His sharp face registered displeasure with the interruption.  “None.  Who are you?”

Gelan did the introductions.  “Negotiator Fritom, Criminal Psychologist Dr. Krijero.  The psych is working on the Delir case with me.”

The negotiator looked Krijero up and down.  Gelan had become so used to the Imdiko’s usual messy state that he only now noticed how wrinkled his tunic was.  As usual, his cowlick kept half his handsome face hidden.

Fritom, apparently unimpressed, turned back to Gelan without bothering to acknowledge Krijero.  “Trust me, Investigator, a psych isn’t going to help matters.  Holding this Nobek’s hand and trying to get him to open up about not having a clan or a reason to live won’t save these people’s lives.  I think you’d better be ready to send in the enforcers.  That will at least give us hope the two children in there will be rescued.”

To his credit, Krijero wasn’t so easily put off.  “What are Huk’s demands, exactly?”

Fritom scowled, not bothering to hide his exasperation with the psych.  For Gelan’s part, he was getting pissed off with how the other Dramok seemed determined to dismiss Krijero.

He repeated the Imdiko’s question, adding in a little growl for effect.  “What are his demands, Negotiator?”

Fritom blinked.  His slightly slanted eyes widened as he looked from Gelan to Krijero and back to Gelan again.  This time he answered.  “He wants to discuss a new identity and safe passage out of the Empire.  He says he’ll talk to only you, and it has to be in person.  Otherwise, he’ll start killing hostages.”

Gelan glanced at Krijero, who seemed to be thinking things over.  After only a couple of seconds, the Imdiko asked, “Has he harmed any of his prisoners yet that you know of?”

Fritom’s voice was tight.  “No, but I expect he will soon.  He says the children will be the first to go.”

Krijero nodded and looked at Gelan.  “Huk won’t do it.  He wants to live.  He knows if he starts killing, that’s it for him.”

Fritom gaped at him.  “You’re pretty cavalier with the lives of little ones, Psych.  No way I’d bet on that.”  He pointedly turned his entire body towards Gelan, cutting Krijero out.  “Are you ready to talk to Huk, Investigator?  We’re running out of time.  His deadline to speak to you is up in three minutes.”

Gelan stared at the negotiator.  In the coldest tone he could summon, he told Fritom, “Not until I get my psych’s recommendations on how to handle him.  Krijero, come over here and talk to me.”

This time it was Fritom who was dismissed from the conversation as Gelan turned his back on him.  He didn’t miss the man’s stunned expression and felt a stab of pleasure.  He took an equally stunned-looking Krijero by the elbow and pulled him away.  Wynhod followed.

Gelan was happy to show Fritom he’d take Krijero’s opinion over his any day.  Let the officious little prick chew on that.

* * * *

Krijero didn’t protest Gelan’s hand on his arm, hauling him all over the scene.  He knew the Dramok had no interest in him other than the help he could offer on the case.  It left him free to enjoy contact with the handsome investigator.  Gelan defending him to the negotiator was a big plus.  Had the situation not been so dire, Krijero would have let himself get a little giddy over the attention.

When they had gotten away from the main crowd, Gelan stopped.  He and Wynhod crowded close, and Krijero had to firmly set aside the rising warmth in his belly.  Now was not the time to indulge in fantasy.  Not when lives were at stake.

Gelan’s expression showed he remained angry.  He said, “Now that I don’t have to listen to that smug ass who thinks he knows everything, tell me what you believe, Krijero.”

Just like that the Imdiko’s head cleared, his momentary lust withdrawing.  “I can’t be sure without actually hearing him speak, but I really think this Nobek Huk doesn’t want to die.  He’s not committed suicide like so many of the others.  He’s been in hiding, so he knows the rest of his fellow gang members have been captured or executed.  He’s taken hostages and called you out, wanting a chance to live.”

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