Read Online Freehold by William C. Dietz - Free Book Online

record time. His promotion to Major had come as a result of Strom's death, just like Stell's promotion to Colonel. But Stell had always wondered why a man with Malik's record, and probable future in the service, had resigned his commission to join a mercenary outfit. Unlike the rest of the brigade, he had chosen this life ... something Stell couldn't understand. In any case, he didn't like Malik and never had ... a feeling that was mutual. The man was arrogant, egotistical, lazy, stubborn, and sadistic to boot. In fact, it was partly these qualities in Malik that made Stell worry about what the brigade would eventually become. After all, the man was second in command—if Stell were killed he'd take command, and no doubt shape the brigade in his own image. The thought made Stell shudder. Now Malik was either AWOL or missing in action. Because Stell didn't like him, he forced himself to keep an open mind. But if he was AWOL, god help him.
    Meanwhile, Sergeant Major Como had a section out looking for him. Like every officer above the rank of lieutenant, Malik had a tiny mini-beacon surgically implanted below his right shoulder blade. Powered by his body heat, the device would last forever. More than once, such beacons had guided medics to wounded officers, and on one occasion, had led a rescue team to Stell's position behind enemy lines. Now Malik's beacon would allow them to track him down. Initial readings put him ten miles away, in one of the worst parts of the Zone. There was no logical reason for Malik to be there, but Stell forced himself to reserve judgment.
    In the compound below, figures scurried around preparing for lift-off. Shortly after Stell's return, the Elders had sent word that the brigade was no longer welcome on Arno ... and had forty-eight hours to get off. Of course, they would have lifted anyway. The Zone was no place for rest and relaxation. Plus, they had a new client—the planet called Freehold. The agreement had been hammered out on the fly.
    Stell had arranged for Kasten and his party to be evacuated to brigade HQ in a heavily armed convoy, since they obviously weren't safe in the hotel. As they wound their way through the flames and chaos touched off by Corporal Flynn, Stell and Kasten began the delicate process of feeling each other out. Kasten began by requesting the brigade's standard rates. Stell replied there was no such thing as a standard war, and therefore no such things as standard rates. The brigade charged according to services actually rendered, with a standard minimum, and escalation clauses covering the unexpected. Nonetheless, he agreed to supply some examples of past engagements and approximate cost. As he did, the politician turned white.
    “Roop was right, you certainly aren't cheap,” Kasten said, forcing a crooked smile.
    “True,” Stell answered with a shrug, “but like the ancient saying goes; you get what you pay for, and we're the best.”
    Kasten nodded. “I don't doubt it, Colonel, but I honestly can't say if we have enough, credits left to pay you. I guess I was somewhat optimistic, about your fees. Maybe Austin's right after all ... it's a choice between giving the planet to you or the pirates!”
    Stell laughed, saying, “If so, I assure you we are the more pleasant choice.” However, Kasten's joke stimulated a line of reasoning that both surprised and intrigued him, and he made a mental note to pursue it later. Meanwhile, the two men worked out a compromise. Kasten couldn't hire the brigade without the consent of Roop's opposition party. Even if the necessary amount of money was available, he lacked sufficient authority to spend it. But, since Roop Was still unconscious, Kasten had the leeway to hire the brigade on a provisional basis, pending a final decision by Freehold's Senate. If the Senate vetoed the idea, the brigade would be paid for time spent; if Kasten's proposal was approved, the mercenaries would already be in transit. Since they had to leave Arno