“What about the old couple?” said Skirata. “Don’t you think they’ve had enough? Why not let ‘em go? Take me instead.”
Go on. Go on, let him in …
Green paused and then gestured Skirata inside with the blaster. “You can keep them company,” he said. “You’re too altruistic for a delivery boy. We better search you.”
The doors closed. “Stand by,” said Niner.
They took up positions either side of the doors, Fi and Niner to the left, Atin and Darman to the right. They could hear Skirata’s breathing-remarkably controlled under the circumstances-and the occasional rustle of fabric. They were searching him. The enhancer didn’t seem to get their attention; the device was too obvious.
“You okay, missus?” said Skirata’s voice. There was a mumbled reply, probably from the elderly Garqi woman. “Lie down. You’ll feel better.”
“Shut up,” said a voice, a new one. Tan Man, thought Fi. He’d know that voice the next time he heard it. You’ll get yours. Nothing personal, just business.
They heard Skirata and the targets again. Fi paused. Every word counted: Skirata was probably risking death or at least a smack in the mouth with a blaster butt to speak at all.
“Here, son, let me have a look at that chrono. . wow, that must have cost you something … what kind of business you in, then? Where you from? Mayro, eh? What’s your name?”
“Quiet.”
“Mayro. Never been there … you’re N’zaet Nir, eh?”
“Shut up.” Tan Man again.
“Okay, keep your hair on. I’ll just sit here with Joz and Cira … you okay, sweetheart? Don’t worry . “
“Shut up.” Thwack.
There were indistinct sounds of fabric rumpling and occasional breathy sobs in different voices. Fi tried not to think what the thwack was. But at least they had a name for the last hostage. It might matter.
He closed his eyes for a second and visualized the layout. Skirata probably had three hostages right next to him, then. That left Senator Till’s position unaccounted for as well as his aide. But it was better than nothing.
“Why was he repeating Mayro?” asked Darman. “Where’s Mayro?”
Niner’s voice filled his skull. “It’s Corporate Sector. Ordo, you ready?”
Fi took a deep breath. He activated his helmet spotlamp and checked the chrono on his forearm plate. When the doors blew and Niner lobbed in the flash-bang-bright and loud enough to stun most species for several vital seconds-he would swing 270 degrees to his left, step in, and aim, ready to take down the first recognizable target he saw. He’d done it time after time.
“Roof team ready,” said Ordo. “Darman?”
“Ready.” Darman raised his gloved fist. “In three. Two. Go.”
Boom.
Light exploded out of the shattered doors and Fi ran into it, Deece raised. Time slowed into a sequence of freeze frames. A man in a green tunic, stunned, squinting against the helmet spotlamp, shouting “No!” in a voice Fi had memorized as target, struggled to raise his blaster, and Fi put a single bolt through his chest. Spotlamp beams crisscrossed the room. Debris rained down from the ceiling as
Ordo crashed down a couple of meters from Fi. Atin dropped Gray with two shots.
A second of utter silence. Then someone in dark brown got up from the floor and Darman and Niner both fired at once.
“Everyone down! Down!” Ordo had his rifle trained on a group of hostages. “Stay still! Republic forces!” And Darman was shouting, “Where’s Tan? Where’s Tan?”
Fi’s lamp swept the wall to his left and he saw a light tan shape and Skirata half across it, transfixed by the beam, yelling, “No, Fi! No!” Fi felt his finger compress the trigger Without any intervention from his conscious mind, and time slowed down a hundredfold.
“Fi, no!” Skirata had flung himself across the tan-coated figure. “Hostage, Fi! Hold fire!”
Fi’s finger eased back. The silence was sudden and total again, punctuated only by the patter of ceiling panels still falling in chunks on the tiled floor.
I nearly killed him. I nearly killed Skirata.
Ordo, standing over the hostages, suddenly fired his Deece into one of them and yelled at them to stay still. The emergency lighting came on again. Six civilians were frozen in terror.
“Fierfek.” said Atin. “I thought he’d shot a hostage for a second.”
“Get ordnance disposal in here before these people start going hysterical,” said Ordo. “And get the Senator clear first.”
There was a man in an expensive suit crumpled on the floor between the other hostages with a blaster beside him.