Stagler raised the hatch slowly before pushing it vertical. Quickly, he scrambled up the ladder and climbed out of the tube.
Daniel was right behind him.
And it was the worst mistake either of them could have ever made.
From behind, hidden in the shadows, came a voice that was vaguely familiar. “Nice of you to drop in. Put your weapons down. You are under arrest.”
Stagler and Daniel wheeled around and brought their handguns to the ready. Instantly, a thunderous roar shook the close confines of the metal room and Stagler went sailing back into a bulkhead.
By the time Daniel got his bearings, the lights in the room sprang to life…
…and he found himself looking into the business end of at least a dozen assault rifles.
“Put your weapon away, Mr. Showgate, or you will die where you stand.”
Daniel glanced down at the tube he’d just climbed out of and caught a glimpse of Toegarth’s head. He ducked back down inside.
Daniel did the only thing he could think of. He dropped the Magnum where he stood and rocked uneasily in his boots. He then collapsed onto the hatch cover, slamming it shut. There he played possum, hoping the cops with the guns trained on him would think that he’d fainted dead away.
It didn’t work.
Instantly, two of the officers were at his side, forcing him into a standing position. One of them slapped him hard across the face to make sure he was awake. They stripped the rifles from around his neck and pulled both arms behind him, clamping on a set of steel restraining cuffs.
Two other cops fished Stagler from his prone position and threw him onto the deck at Daniel’s feet.
Daniel looked at his friend. At least the face he was born with hadn’t been blown off. He’d been shot in the right shoulder and there was a fair amount of blood oozing from his wound but he wasn’t unconscious yet. He fought to catch his breath. His gasping was met with a swift stomp on his stomach.
Daniel tried to wrestle away from the men at his side. “Stop, you bastards! You’ve already shot him! Leave him alone!”
Stagler was brought to his feet and held in place beside his fellow saboteur. The look of absolute pain on Stagler’s face was almost unbearable to Daniel.
Three days ago he would have welcomed that sight, but now…
“Touching,” the voice said again. Then the owner of that voice came to the fore.
Daniel recognized him.
Shit!
It was Commissioner Jung.
He was the bastard who was hip deep in this whole conspiracy. He was also the one who painted Daniel a terrorist on television.
It’s good he’s standing across the room, Daniel seethed. Otherwise I would rip his heart out and stuff it down his throat!
“It’s touching that you feel a need to protect a murderous traitor like this common worker,” Jung pronounced. “Too bad that he – like the rest of your brethren, you motley band of Terran Movement misfits - must die for your crimes.”
Daniel started to protest but he was just too damn tired. “Listen, fucker, I’m too damn tired for this shit. Just kill me now and get it over with. I’m fed up with all this, everything, every bit of it. If you’re going to kill me, do it now.”
Jung, his angular face and thin lips pulling into a smile, laughed slightly. “Oh, I wouldn’t make it that easy for you, First Assistant. There are a great many things that must happen in the next few hours before you can die. But your friend here, your friend is a different story.”
Jung raised his handgun and aimed it directly at Stagler.
Daniel’s eyes widened when he realized Jung was about to pull the trigger. “Wait! Wait! Don’t shoot him!” He pleaded loudly before he was aware of what he was saying. “What do you want? Tell me what you want!”
“Ah, now you want to negotiate,” Jung said in the jovial tone of a victor over his prey. “Well, let’s see. What is there that you have that I could possibly want? Material things? No, I am not lacking of anything I truly need or even want. Information, perhaps?” Jung pursed his thin lips and nodded. “Yes, information I could use. Information is always a good thing. Would you be willing to give me some information in exchange for your friend’s life?”
Uh oh. Daniel swallowed hard. Information was the one thing he couldn’t afford to share.
But he nodded anyway.
Jung smiled. “Good. My first question is – and you might have guessed this -where is our nerve agent?”
Knowing that it was just a few feet below him, Daniel lied. “I don’t know.”
“Not a good answer. We’ll call that strike one.” Jung moved a bit closer. “Who is the leader of the Terran Movement, and where is he now?”
Daniel sighed heavily. At this rate, Stagler would be dead in seconds. “I don’t know that either.”
“Strike two,” Jung squeezed out under his breath. “Where exactly is your base of operations? I know it’s in this general vicinity, but where is it exactly?”