We know you're in there, Mr. Stafford, and we want our money.” The guardsman wasn't sure which one of them spoke. They kept wandering in and out of the range of the viewer.
“Go away! Stafford is under arrest.”
There was laughter on the other side. “Now that's a new one!”
“It's true. This is a member of the Imperial Guard speaking.”
More laughter. “We'll have to see that to believe it!”
The guard angrily cycled the door open. “Now do you-”
He was suddenly on the floor and a figure was vaulting through the door, a stunner aimed at the other guard's head. There was no sound from the attacker, the guard, or the weapon, but the guard closed his eyes and joined his comrade on the floor.
“If you wish to go with them, you may,” said the bland-looking male invader in a female voice as the pistol was holstered. “We are only here to give you a choice. Someone is offering you and your mate a safe place if you want it. Otherwise, you may wait until they regain consciousness.”
“We'll go with you,” Stafford said without hesitation.
“Vin!” It was Salli.
He turned to her. “It's all right. We'll be safer with them than with anybody else. I know who they are.”
Salli made no reply. She merely clung to him, looking physically exhausted and emotionally drained. She watched as the two newcomers closed the apartment door and arranged the two guardsmen neatly on the floor.
BROOHNIN FLOATED IN THE CHUTE, holding his position with a foot and a hand each hooked into a safety rung. Popping his head into the hall, he took a quick look up and down, then arched back into the chute. He had no idea what lay on the other side of Stafford's apartment door, but he had to go through. He had to be sure Stafford had not told what he knew-would never tell what he knew.
As he prepared to thrust himself into the hall, he heard the whisper of a door cycling open…it came from the direction of Stafford's apartment. Broohnin had two options: he could let go of the rungs and float up to the next floor, or he could step out and confront whoever it was.
He chose the latter. If nothing else, he'd have surprise and a drawn weapon on his side. Placing his right foot flat against the rear wall of the chute, he gave a kick and catapulted himself into the hall.
Broohnin almost vomited when he saw Stafford's escort. The holosuit images were all too familiar to him. But it was too late to do anything but act.
“Stop right there!” he said, pointing the blaster at the middle of the pilot's chest. “Another step and he dies!”
They stopped. All four of them-the pilot, a woman, and the two Flinters flanking them. “What is wrong with you, Broohnin?” said a male voice that appeared to be coming from the left: Josef's voice. “There's a squad of Imperial Guard on its way here now. Let us by without any further trouble.”
“I'll let three of you by,” Broohnin said warily, watching the Flinters for any sign of movement. He was far enough away that no one could reach him before he fired, and he was too close to miss if he did. He had to play this scene very carefully. There would be time for only one blast; the Flinters would be on him after that. The blast would have to kill the pilot, and then Broohnin would have to drop his weapons immediately. There was a chance they'd let him live then, and return to LaNague, who would do nothing, as usual. But at least the pilot would be dead. The thing he had to be absolutely sure not to do was to hit one of the Flinters with the blast, because there was no telling what the other one would do when he or she got hold of him.
“What do you mean, ‘three’?” It was Kanya's voice.
“The pilot's got to die.”
“You don't have to worry about that,” Josef said. “He's decided to stay with us. We're taking him back to LaNague.”
“I don't care what he's decided or where you're taking him. He could change his mind and walk out again…or Metep could publicly offer him a huge reward if he turns himself in.” Broohnin shook his head. “No…can't risk it. He could ruin everything. You know that.”
Broohnin didn't realize what had happened until it was too late. While he was talking, the Flinters had edged closer and closer to Stafford and his wife. Then, with one quick sideward step from each, they had placed themselves in front of the couple, completely eclipsing Broohnin's intended target.
“Don't do that! Move aside!”
“Best to give us the weapon, Broohnin,” Kanya said. Moving in unison, they began to approach him, one slow step after another.
“I'll fire!” he said, aching to retreat but finding himself rooted to the floor. “I'll kill you both, and then him!”
“You might kill one of us,” Josef said. “But that would be the last thing you would do. Ever.”
The blaster was suddenly snatched out of his hand. He saw it in Kanya's, but the exchange had been a complete blur. He hadn't seen her move.
“Quickly, now,” Josef said, turning to Stafford and his wife and motioning them toward the drop-chute. “The backup squad will be here any time now.”
As Stafford passed, Kanya handed him Broohnin's blaster. “Put this in your waistband and forget about it unless we tell you to use it.”
“What about me?” Broohnin asked, fearing the answer more than he had feared anything in his life.
Kanya and Josef merely glanced his way with their expressionless holosuit faces, then followed the pilot and his wife down the chute. Broohnin hurried after them. If Imperial Guardsmen were on their way, he didn't want to be caught here and have to explain the pilot's empty apartment. He was right behind them when they all pushed their way out to the street and came face to face with the backup squad as it debarked from a lorry flitter. The squad leader recognized Stafford immediately-no doubt his features had been drummed into their brains since his escape earlier in the day.
“What's going on here?” he yelled and readied the blaster rifle he had been cradling in his arms. “Where are the others? Who are these?”
Kanya and Josef edged toward the front of their group. Josef's voice was low but audible to the rest of the civilians. “Be calm, stand quiet, let us handle everything. There's only six of them.”
“I asked you a question!” the squad leader said to anyone who would listen. “Where are the two Imperial Guardsmen who are supposed to be with you?”
“I assure you we don't know what you mean,” Josef said. “We are not with these others.”
The squad leader leveled his blaster at Josef as the other five members of his squad arrayed themselves behind him. “Show me some identification. It had better be perfect or we're all going upstairs to find out what's going on here.”
Broohnin felt panic welling up within him, shutting off his air, choking him. This was it-they were either going to be killed or wind up Metep's prisoners. One was as bad as the other. He had to do something. He saw Stafford standing just ahead and to his left, his arms folded cautiously across his chest. His wife was clinging to his left arm and his attention was on her. Peeking out from under his right elbow was the butt of Broohnin's confiscated blaster.
Without thinking, without a conscious effort on his part, Broohnin's hand reached out and snatched at the weapon. He had to have it. It was floating debris on a storm-tossed sea, a chance for survival. No guarantee that it would carry him to safety, but it seemed to be all he had right now.
Stafford spun reflexively as he felt the weapon pulled from his waistband and grabbed for it. “Hey!”