War Criminals by Gavin Smith (ereader for textbooks .TXT) 📕

railgun that most Wraiths were armed with, there was a 20mm slugthrower cannon lying in the dirt next to the suit of power armour. Hogg pointed his light at a ragged, bloody hole in the front of the Wraith. Someone, or something, had rammed a pointed object straight through the heavily armoured chest of the combat exoskeleton.

‘Okay, we need to leave,’ Miska said. She was aware of Hogg nodding. She assumed that if Trafalgar didn’t report in then Triple S command would send someone to investigate. They didn’t want to be there when that happened.

She couldn’t shake the feeling they were dealing with a new player.

She also couldn’t shake the feeling that Triple S and New Sun would find a way to hold the Bastards responsible for this massacre.

Chapter 6

Salik had made it sound like an invitation but Miska recognised a summoning when she heard one. The massacre had hit the net a few hours after Miska and the Sneaky Bastards had been airlifted out of FOB Trafalgar. Carefully edited footage and heavily spun information made sure that the finger was pointed at the Bastards.

‘Why us?’ she muttered to herself as she tramped up Pegasus 2’s cargo ramp, secured her pack and the M-187 laser carbine, and slumped down into one of the folding bucket seats. If she was honest she suspected that she knew the answer.

‘Because you wanted to be the bad guy,’ Torricone told her. He was sat on one of the seats on the opposite bulkhead, watching her. The other members of the Legion in the cargo bay, who were on their way up to Waterloo Station for some R&R, shuffled a bit and looked the other way.

‘I’m not the bad … oh wait, you mean because my mercenary legion is made up of enslaved violent criminals?’ Even subvocalising the message her jaw moved a little. The other Bastards in the shuttle would be aware of the exchange. If they suspected there was something between Torricone and herself it could go badly for him. On the other hand if they realised just how antagonistic he was being then it could make him a hero to some of the Bastards.

‘Legion?’ Torricone asked over the direct comms link. ‘A couple of companies at most.’

Nyukuti trotted up the ramp just as it started to close and sat down next to Miska. It could be difficult to tell with him, but Miska suspected it wasn’t so much that he was angry with her for going out without him the night before, as hurt. He was dressed in civvies but carrying one of the snubby MMI personal defence weapons. It seemed he was still taking his bodyguard/close protection role seriously.

‘Surprised to see you taking a leave at all,’ Miska subvocalised as she leaned forward, clasping her hands, staring at Torricone, the smile on her face more than a little evil. ‘I thought you’d be out providing blood transfusions to sickly children direct from your bleeding heart.’

Torricone glared at her. ‘Why don’t you go and fuck yourself?’

Even over the roar of the engines as the assault shuttle took off, his voice carried enough for all the legionnaires in the cargo bay to hear. Next to her Nyukuti made to get up but Miska put a hand on his arm. The stand-over man froze for a moment but then relaxed back into his seat. Suddenly it was quiet in the back of the shuttle as it lurched forward and upwards.

Torricone’s beautiful brown eyes held her stare. He tapped the side of his head, a careful measured movement. His finger touching the skin just above the single tattooed tear.

He’s daring me to kill him, Miska thought. The public challenge put her in a difficult position. She was, however, trying to get past the point where she had to kill anyone who stepped out of line.

‘What the fuck is your problem?’ Miska demanded, subvocalising over the direct comms link. The other legionnaires on board the shuttle were still watching the confrontation intently.

‘It’s too much, Miska, you’re messing around with things …’ he left the rest unsaid but she was pretty sure that he was talking about the artefact they had ’jacked on Barney’s Prime. The weird piece of alien tech that had somehow shielded them from the orbital strike by forces as yet unknown. Kaneda, Vido, Mass and Torricone had apparently seen nothing when they had jumped into the artefact, but all of them had been aware of the passing of time, the sense of being somewhere else, the sense of wrongness, and strange but indeterminate nightmares. Whatever had happened to them, it hadn’t so much changed Torricone as reinforced previously held convictions.

‘You’re frightened,’ Miska mused over the comms link. Torricone didn’t say anything. ‘So why not just wait it out in suspended animation? You’ve said it yourself: all I’ve got is enemies. This is just a matter of time.’

‘Because between now and then you can do a lot of damage. If I’m going to live with myself when you’re gone, I need to know that I did everything I could to mitigate that.’

Miska let his words settle in. She could still feel the other legionnaires in the shuttle’s hold watching them. She narrowed her eyes, as though studying Torricone anew.

‘No,’ she subvocalised, ‘I don’t think so. I’ve met your mom …’

‘You mean you’ve had your ass kicked by my mom,’ Torricone told her, no trace of humour in his voice.

‘I did not … I’m not sure that’s anything you should be … That’s not my point.’ She could feel Nyukuti watching the silent exchange now as well. What? Am I flustered? she wondered. ‘You didn’t have to grow up the way you did. You didn’t have to steal cars. You did it because you liked it. Now you’re walking unarmed into a war zone. Your problem is that you’re just as much an action junkie as I am. The only difference is that you want to feel good