Read Online Ellie Quin - 04 - Ellie Quin in WonderLand by Alex Scarrow - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Alex Scarrow
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past him, his gun was already out and he was calling across the heads of the people to catch Karl's attention.
The girls were sprinting along that narrow space between the rear of the stalls and the large sloping wall, racing towards Karl, hurrying to catch that freight barge that was waiting for them.
How the hell does he not see them coming towards him?
Deacon raised his hand to the floating video, pinched a section of the flickering holographic image between his fingers and splayed them. The image spread and magnified.
There were the girls, running towards the man. There was Karl, gun ready, waiting for them. Even looking in their direction! Doing nothing. Thirty yards, twenty. Then the girls both stopped dead in their tracks as they finally noticed him ahead of them.
Deacon paused again. Frowned.
Why the hell isn't he doing anything? Has he not seen them?
He resumed watching the video, once again expanding it with a hand gesture. He zoomed in so much that the image was starting to pixellate. It looked like one of the girls was waving her hands at…
Karl
. Signalling something to him. Then he noticed Karl slowly, subtly, nod and lower his weapon, just a fraction. A sign that they could pass him by.
And they did. The girls squeezed past him and carried on up the way.
Deacon cursed under his breath.
A moment later, the echoing babble of traders and customers was interrupted by the sharp crack of gunfire; Deacon's gun. Instantly the river of people cowered and dropped down to the ground. Deacon watched himself picking his way hurriedly through the cringing carpet of people, firing his gun again at the fleeing girls. Sparks flying off the wall near their heads.
He paused the video file once again.
Karl was
finally
stirring to life, now aiming his gun at the girls as they fled away from him. But quite clearly aiming high.
'Well…bloody well,' Deacon uttered under his breath. 'So, Karl, it seems as though somebody else is paying your wage.'
He sat back in his gel-chair and sighed. He touched the play icon again. Right there on the video, Karl fired at them and missed. Appallingly bad marksmanship for an ex-marine, for such an expensive freelancer.
That makes sense of one or two things
.
There'd been that earlier incident, at the ruins of the abandoned colony outpost the day before, hadn't there? Again, those girls had somehow managed to get right past him. Yet, he'd been rather clever, hadn't he? Making a last ditch effort to chase out of the ruins after them. To clamber heroically onto the loading ramp of that rescue shuttle just as it began to lift off, only to let go a couple of seconds later and tumble heavily to the ground.
All of that above-and-beyond-the-call-of-duty charade had looked rather convincing to Deacon at the time.
'You devious bastard,' he whispered.
Good God, it would be tempting to amble over to the TravelCube hotel where his hired guns had rented cubes, kick in the door to Karl's, put his gun to the man's head and spread his brains up the wall. But then there'd be only short-lived satisfaction in doing that.
Like scratching an itch. It would achieve nothing.
Far better to actually take the traitorous fool alive, interrogate the double-playing bastard and find out who, other than The Administration, was paying his wages.
Then, of course…kill him.
Deacon could order the other hired gun to help him arrest Karl. But what if he too was on someone else's payroll? He decided it was probably prudent to be patient. Wait a few more days. There was a Colonial Marine ship on its way at full speed to this system. Pretty soon he was going to have several hundred heavily armed and highly trained marines at his disposal.
Even then, it might make sense to play dumb. Let Karl think he'd gotten away with it. A little play-acting. Smile at the guy, let him know that he was rather impressed by his zeal and initiative and that he'd recommend a bonus after this job was done. Not that difficult a play-act
The girls were sprinting along that narrow space between the rear of the stalls and the large sloping wall, racing towards Karl, hurrying to catch that freight barge that was waiting for them.
How the hell does he not see them coming towards him?
Deacon raised his hand to the floating video, pinched a section of the flickering holographic image between his fingers and splayed them. The image spread and magnified.
There were the girls, running towards the man. There was Karl, gun ready, waiting for them. Even looking in their direction! Doing nothing. Thirty yards, twenty. Then the girls both stopped dead in their tracks as they finally noticed him ahead of them.
Deacon paused again. Frowned.
Why the hell isn't he doing anything? Has he not seen them?
He resumed watching the video, once again expanding it with a hand gesture. He zoomed in so much that the image was starting to pixellate. It looked like one of the girls was waving her hands at…
Karl
. Signalling something to him. Then he noticed Karl slowly, subtly, nod and lower his weapon, just a fraction. A sign that they could pass him by.
And they did. The girls squeezed past him and carried on up the way.
Deacon cursed under his breath.
A moment later, the echoing babble of traders and customers was interrupted by the sharp crack of gunfire; Deacon's gun. Instantly the river of people cowered and dropped down to the ground. Deacon watched himself picking his way hurriedly through the cringing carpet of people, firing his gun again at the fleeing girls. Sparks flying off the wall near their heads.
He paused the video file once again.
Karl was
finally
stirring to life, now aiming his gun at the girls as they fled away from him. But quite clearly aiming high.
'Well…bloody well,' Deacon uttered under his breath. 'So, Karl, it seems as though somebody else is paying your wage.'
He sat back in his gel-chair and sighed. He touched the play icon again. Right there on the video, Karl fired at them and missed. Appallingly bad marksmanship for an ex-marine, for such an expensive freelancer.
That makes sense of one or two things
.
There'd been that earlier incident, at the ruins of the abandoned colony outpost the day before, hadn't there? Again, those girls had somehow managed to get right past him. Yet, he'd been rather clever, hadn't he? Making a last ditch effort to chase out of the ruins after them. To clamber heroically onto the loading ramp of that rescue shuttle just as it began to lift off, only to let go a couple of seconds later and tumble heavily to the ground.
All of that above-and-beyond-the-call-of-duty charade had looked rather convincing to Deacon at the time.
'You devious bastard,' he whispered.
Good God, it would be tempting to amble over to the TravelCube hotel where his hired guns had rented cubes, kick in the door to Karl's, put his gun to the man's head and spread his brains up the wall. But then there'd be only short-lived satisfaction in doing that.
Like scratching an itch. It would achieve nothing.
Far better to actually take the traitorous fool alive, interrogate the double-playing bastard and find out who, other than The Administration, was paying his wages.
Then, of course…kill him.
Deacon could order the other hired gun to help him arrest Karl. But what if he too was on someone else's payroll? He decided it was probably prudent to be patient. Wait a few more days. There was a Colonial Marine ship on its way at full speed to this system. Pretty soon he was going to have several hundred heavily armed and highly trained marines at his disposal.
Even then, it might make sense to play dumb. Let Karl think he'd gotten away with it. A little play-acting. Smile at the guy, let him know that he was rather impressed by his zeal and initiative and that he'd recommend a bonus after this job was done. Not that difficult a play-act
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