Freedom Incorporated, Peter Tylee [literature books to read TXT] 📗

women to free. He couldn’t leave them. He could bear to think of lonely families wondering what’d happened to their daughters and wives. And nobody deserved to spend their lives trapped in an unlawful prison, serving as slaves.

A shout came from his left, “Hey, what the hell are you doing here?” And it was loud enough to raise the alarm. Within seconds, others had spread the warning and everyone in the compound knew something was wrong.

He was a large man, sporting a barrel chest and sagging girth, the product of too many three-course luncheons and not enough exercise. His neatly trimmed moustache came to life when he talked, wiggling with a mind of its own. “How did you get in?” He yelled, taking a pace forward. Then he saw their weapons.

Dan hesitated no longer. He raised his Colt and squeezed the trigger. His silencer muted the shot to a predatory hiss and he clearly heard the clank-clink of the semiautomatic reloading. The bullet entered the man’s eye, ricocheted inside his skull, and make soup of his brain, killing him instantly. His body jerked and, without the necessary nerve impulses to support his considerable bulk, his knees crumpled and he thudded facedown on the floor where some of his mashed brains leaked through his obliterated eye-socket onto the carpet.

“Here they come,” Dan warned, listening to the not-so-distant shouts of co-ordination. They crouched in the sunken entrances of two bedrooms, their niches the only protection from bullets that would soon be zinging past.

Damn. Dan had hoped to reach Jen before anybody noticed them. At least then he could’ve done his best to protect her. For all he knew, Esteban would use her as a bargaining tool. And Dan didn’t want to know what he’d do under those circumstances.

Two men scurried into the lounge room ahead. They overturned tables and ducked behind couches amidst a few well-aimed bullets from Simon and Dan. Then they laid some covering fire to enable other Guild members to take up strategic positions. Simon fired another two shots, his massive cannon booming and a foot-long flash coming from its barrel. It didn’t have a silencer and left his ears ringing. “They’re digging in.”

Dan nodded.

“So you know what that means?” Simon fired another shot between volleys from Guild members.

“That we’re fucked?” Dan said pointedly.

“They’re going to come from behind and trap us here.”

“So we’re fucked.”

Simon nodded, wishing he’d brought more ammunition. Dan too was starting to think he’d made a grievous error in his calculations. He didn’t have in believing he enough ammunition to cater for this type of gunfight. He tried not to fire until he had a smiling face to shoot at, and even then he was careful to make every round count.

*

Esteban’s frown was extending in ripples over his forehead, mirroring the confused tension that mustered in his mind. But that doesn’t make sense. He was watching Dan’s movements, wondering why he’d portaled to The Netherlands. He couldn’t think of anything strategic in the move.

And it irked him.

He needed to know.

So his brain revved to its limit, trying to figure it out with the pitifully limited data he had on hand. Why the hell did you go to Holland? What’s in Holland? Friends? It was possible. Maybe he’s getting reinforcements. But that didn’t make sense either. He couldn’t get into the Guild even if Adrian had squawked and told him where it was.

The buzzing of his mobile interrupted his thoughts and he decided to check the display. After all, Dan wasn’t posing an immediate threat so the pressure was off. It was Junior. Esteban heaved a sigh and mentally disengaged from his quandary to answer the call.

“What is it?”

“It’s Dan.” Junior sounded excited and panicky at the same time. “He’s here.”

Esteban sat bold upright. “Where?”

“In the Guild.”

That’s impossible. Esteban’s first impulse was to call Junior a liar, but then he heard the muted crackle of gunfire filtering through the receiver. “Hang ten. I’ll be right there.” He was already halfway to the nearest portal, loosing his automatic and coming dangerously close to colliding with walls as he banked hard around corners.

*

Jen’s head felt as if it was stuffed with cottonwool, but the sound of gunshots penetrated the haze. Initially she thought somebody was having a party and it was party-poppers or firecrackers, but people were shouting when they ran past her door - things were not as they should be.

She wobbled to her feet where a wave of nausea slammed her to her knees. There she knelt, shaking with the ugly threat of vomiting. She was about to give up and allow the nausea to overpower her when her sluggish mind correctly processed the sounds of battle growling outside her door. It’s Dan. The thought revived her and she stood again, still wobbly but determined to stay upright. She wanted to help, in any way she could.

But how? She tentatively laced her fingers around the doorhandle, feeling the cold metal chill the pads of her fingers. She wished she could think of something to do. She hated feeling helpless and didn’t want Dan, the strong knight, to have to rescue her. Is that what I am? A useless princess that needs saving? Another lashing of nausea made the room spin but she doggedly twisted the handle, opened her door, and strode into the corridor.

*

“So now what?” Dan asked, hoping Simon had a miracle in store.

“Well, unless you want them to trap us, we have to go back that way” - he jerked a thumb over his shoulder after ducking from a volley of shots - “and we have to hurry.”

Dan grimaced. Fuck me dead with a stick of broccoli. He didn’t want to abandon the cause, not now, not when he was so close. If they fled, the Guild would pack up and go elsewhere. But they’d lost the element of surprise and, the way things were developing, they’d be dead in ten minutes. And dead men couldn’t help anyone. What the fuck are we doing in a goddamn corridor! They wouldn’t be able to hold their position for long.

“Okay, let’s go.” Dan squeezed off several shots while Simon dashed low for the next door. He followed a few moments later, hugging the wall to avoid a bullet in the back.

They turned right after the showers and entered the lounge room they’d first encountered, the one with the corridor that led to the portal chamber. “If we leave now we’ll never get Jen out, not alive. You know that, don’t you?” Dan held back, hoping Simon had brewed his miracle.

He just nodded solemnly. “I know.” But there’s nothing we can do. “If we’d found her before they raised the alarm we would’ve had a chance. Or if we’d taken the bulk of them by surprise then we’d be cruising. But…” He didn’t need to finish his sentence.

Besides, he didn’t have the chance. Dan shoved him hard in the stomach and Simon sagged to the ground, a fraction of a second before a bullet ripped through the space where Simon’s head had been. He lay winded on the carpet, safe behind a couch.

“Daniel, Daniel, Daniel.” Esteban’s voice came bright and clear. He was hunkering low in the corridor to the portals. “Funny I should meet you here.”

Dan’s control was starting to fracture and he knew he could only withstand so much taunting before he’d implode. And he had no idea what would happen then.

“I was hoping you’d come and join our party,” Esteban said, his mirthful voice betraying his self-satisfaction. It was Esteban’s sweetest dream come true.

“Drop dead, moron,” Dan said quietly to himself. He was surprised to discover Esteban had heard him.

“Aw, that’s not a nice thing to say to your host.” Esteban was stalling. He knew the other members were creeping forward and he held aspirations of taking Dan alive - if wounded.

Dan knew it too. He divided his attention between Esteban and the other three corridors. He felt open and vulnerable, though Simon looked in no condition to move yet. He was badly winded and struggling for breath.

“Hey Dan!” Esteban relished taunting the man who’d ruined the most exciting part of his career. “I’m going to peel Jen like a juicy piece of fruit.” He laughed gutturally. “I’m going to tear strips from her body and feed them to my dog.”

Dan lost his grip on whatever remained of his self-control, just as Esteban had planned - for an impulsive man made mistakes. He took careful aim and fired two shots.

Esteban flinched when the splintering wall showered him with fragments of plaster. But he smiled broadly and thought, I’ve won. It was just a matter of time now.

Dan reached down, grabbed Simon by the scruff of his collar, and pulled him to his knees. “Come on.” He dragged him to the central corridor, the one leading to the heart of the complex, directly toward the fray. Simon had to scramble to catch up but felt grateful for the rough treatment once they’d entered the mouth of the corridor. It felt safer in there - at least they only had two directions over which to fret.

Dan pushed his friend into a nook and pointed back toward Esteban. “Make sure nobody comes this way.”

Simon nodded, not yet in full control of his breath. He spoke in short gasps, “What… about… you?”

Dan’s eyes were the most brutal Simon had ever seen. They had an alien quality. Few people ever understood it. It was something a person had to experience to understand - concentrated death. Every fibre in Dan’s body itched for carnage and virtually nothing could stop him. “I’m going this way.” He turned towards the centre of the Guild and started walking, casually replacing the magazine in his Colt. He had the Cobra-KT with a few hundred rounds for backup but preferred the Colt in cramped conditions. It was faster to aim and a sliver of a second could mean the difference between life and death.

The transformation was complete. He’d become what he feared. His ugly past had resurfaced. A death machine, capable of unspeakable things. Something he’d tried hard to forget. And the worst part was that he enjoyed it. He was thriving on the thrill and needed to quench his thirst for blood. He’d been parched a long time.

He strode confidently but insanely into the Guild’s core and obliterated their stronghold by tapping bullets to the foreheads of the four men there. They collapsed like rag-dolls, their dark-red blood bursting onto the pristine carpet.

Two more witnessed the slaughter from a side corridor and sprinted for their lives, spreading terror like a disease. Soon everyone knew what’d happened and all desperately wanted to escape. They were fleeing for the portal chamber on the far side of compound.

But Dan wasn’t finished. He pursued them until they’d all flashed away. When it was over, he’d slain six, critically wounded one, and given two flesh wounds. The critically wounded man lay gasping for breath through blood-filled lungs, abandoned by his fellow members and forgotten in the heat of battle. Nobody tended to his wounds and nobody heard his dying words.

A body on the floor mesmerised Dan. The back of his skull was missing, blown away by Dan’s nine-millimetre round. He hadn’t honestly expected so much damage. Environmental trauma that caused bone disease? A genetic problem? It wouldn’t surprise him. Dozens of genetic catastrophes had snaked into the human gene pool, which dangerous chemicals were gradually eroding. Most people suffered the consequences of at least one flaw. Weak and decalcified bones were prevalent disorders.

Now… Esteban. Dan wanted to gaze inside Esteban’s skull, to see if maybe he was missing his frontal lobes. He mightn’t have been