He quickly crawled back up the embankment and peered through the long grass in time to see one of the two hijackers wheeling the containment unit back over towards the VTOL. The VTOL’s nose section had meanwhile opened up to reveal a ramp, looking like some winged monster with its jaws wide open and its tongue lolling across the road.
Monk glanced beyond the ruined APC, now struggling to push itself the right way up, like some mortally wounded animal, and saw the drone once more pass across the road and into the treetops on the far side. Before he could change his mind, he leaped up and ran, crouching low in order to present as small a target as possible, before dropping to one knee and preparing to open fire.
One of the hijackers spotted him and shouted a warning. Monk instantly let loose a rapid blast of fire from his Cobra, and saw the man collapse with a scream. The second hijacker ran for the cover of the containment unit, and began to return fire.
Monk flattened himself on the road and glanced towards his truck. He had maybe sixty seconds before the drone passed back over the road and spotted him. If he could take out emaining hijacker before then, he could hide under the truck bed, where the drone’s IR sensors wouldn’t be able to distinguish his heat signal from that of the engine.
Monk heard the surviving hijacker reload his weapon, and took it as his cue to again dart forward. A second later, he heard a buzz-saw whine coming from entirely the wrong direction.
He gazed up in stupefaction at a second drone hovering almost directly over the roof of his truck, the downdraft from its rotors scuffing up dirt and leaves from the tarmac as it moved closer. At the same time, he heard the buzz-saw rattle of the first drone returning through the trees.
The last thing he saw was the flash from an exhaust port as the drone launched a grenade at him.
FIVE
Copernicus City Medical Centre, Luna, 20 January 2235
Saul had been gazing out at the distant cliff walls of Copernicus Crater, when he heard someone enter the observation room from behind him. The Earth hung low above the horizon, the lights of the city blotting out all but the brightest of stars, so that the planet seemed to float in a lightless void.
He reached down and gripped the right-hand wheel of his wheelchair, pushing back on it so that he turned just in time to see one of two men he didn’t recognize close the door, shutting out the constant bustle of the hospital corridor beyond.
Saul cleared his throat. ‘Can I help you?’
The shorter of the two had unkempt, sandy hair, while his companion was thin as a rail, his expression morose. The shorter one stepped up next to Saul and peered out through the window, while his companion eased one buttock on to a side table next to the door, and folded his arms. Both wore dark, conservative suits, while their UPs merely identified them as employees of the ASI.
The shorter man turned back from the window and glanced down at Saul with a smile. ‘Alec Donohue,’ he said, introducing himself. ‘And my friend here is Joshua Sanders,’ he added, nodding towards his companion.
‘Let me guess,’ Saul grunted. ‘Internal Affairs?’
‘We prefer ‘Public Standards Unit,’ Donohue corrected.
After four days in the hospital, Saul had begun to hope against the odds that Public Standards had somehow forgotten about him. He should have known better.
‘So,’ he asked with forced levity, ‘exactly how much trouble am I in?’p>
‘That depends,’ Donohue replied, and nodded towards Saul’s hands, folded in his lap. ‘How’re the grafts working out?’
‘Fine.’ Saul glanced down at the thick swathes of bandage covering his hands. ‘Had some cosmetic work, but they should be back to normal in the next couple of days.’
‘And the shoulder wound?’
Saul shrugged, and felt a sympathetic twinge in the upper part of his back. ‘Didn’t hit anything vital.’
‘Nice.’ Donohue nodded. ‘And, in response to your question, you’re in a shitload of trouble, my friend. One colleague of yours dead, a major undercover operation seriously compromised, not to mention a running gun battle in an economic development zone under foreign jurisdiction. That’s not even to mention the pharmaceutical horn of plenty we found in both yours and Jacob Maks’ bloodstreams. The pair of you practically had the contents of a fucking pharmacy chugging through your veins.’ Donohue leaned back against the window and shook his head, as if in sorrow. ‘All in all, one royal humdinger of a fuck-up.’
Saul stared at him with a venomous expression. ‘How about I throw you a stick, you run and fetch it?’
‘Easy,’ said Sanders from over by the door.
‘First up,’ said Saul, ‘the ice-pharm was out in the middle of a fucking
Donohue regarded him with an amused expression. ‘The standard rules of jurisdiction cease to apply when enough people start shooting at each other, at which point the corporations and government interests controlling the legal pharms seek to protect their interests. Coalition peacekeepers were called in to help keep the peace.’
‘I’m sure they were,’ Saul muttered.
‘There’s something I want you to take a look at,’ said Donohue, gesturing to the other agent. Sanders stood up and pulled a folder from inside his jacket, before stepping over. He handed it to Saul, who found it contained nothing more than a single sheet of charged paper.
