Rechs went down another flight and stepped onto a landing. A loud pop echoed through the darkness. Then a trap door that comprised the entirety of the landing gave way, and Rechs fell fast down to the next level.
Which, as it rapidly loomed up to meet him, was clearly a cage.
Big, metallic tanks instantly began to jet bright orange gas from all four sides.
It was a bad trap. But it still would have meant death or capture for anyone who didn’t happen to have jump-jet-capable armor.
Rechs flared his jump jets at the last second, giving him a soft landing. He wasn’t concerned about the surging poisonous vapor filling the space around him like jet engines spooling up sudden contrails on a cold day at high altitude. The sealed armor easily handled toxic gases.
“Dammit!” he heard Giles Longfree exclaim from above. “I forgot about the jump jets. All rrrright, boys…” he said matter-of-factly. “Blast him!”
And then the mobster darted back up the stairs.
The four shooters who had led the way and stepped past the trap were now back at the mouth of the trap door. One of them tried a quick shot with a blaster. Its green bolt lanced out and struck ancient iron, exploding in a shower of fire and sparks.
Rechs fired his jets and rocketed up out of the trap door. He heard the eight shooters above hustling down the stairs to get a shot on him, convinced they had the advantage in numbers and firepower.
What happened next was a bloodbath.
Rechs landed just beside the trap door and swung his pump-action scatterblaster at the four hired blasters still looking for him down in the cage, so fast had his ascent been. The powerful blast tore through the one closest and blew half a face off the two men standing behind. Rechs gave a forceful kick to the fourth man, sending him tumbling down into the darkness.
Wasting no time, he turned to engage the thugs coming down from above. Racking another charge pack, he hugged the wall of the curving pylon just below the next landing. The two that came down first were following medium blasters and immediately locked front sights on their dead friends bleeding on the landing. One of them, the little lizard, led the other, a human in dirty combat leathers.
Rechs shot the human in the belly and didn’t wait for the guy to realize he was dead. An instant later he jackhammered his combat boot into the lizard’s pot belly and sent him sprawling for the rail and the fall below. The lizard discharged his weapon as he stumbled and another green blaster bolt raced off, creating a dying comet as it streaked away into the darkness of the cavern. But the little lizard man didn’t go over the rail, instead bouncing off it, its prehensile tail trying to grab on to a support.
Blaster fire from the rest of Giles’s crew rained down from the landing above as Rechs darted to the lizard, grabbed him with one hand, powered up the armor, and hurled the flailing body of the killer at the nearest attacker above.
The thing screamed, scrabbly claws flailing and hitting the man full in the face. Both tumbled off into the void, streaking by Rechs with intertwined screams on the way down.
Those left weren’t interested in what Rechs was offering. The bounty hunter charged after them, racking another charge in the scatterblaster and firing at the first one he caught up to, point-blank in the back. He was already passing the dead man and racking the next charge.
Only two decided they would stay and fight, or at least try a shot once they reached the next level. A moment of fear and bad aim was all one did with the time that remained in this life. The other one shot Rechs in the chest plate not a foot away from him with a black-market pistol dialed up way past all humanitarian and legal limits. The shot hit like a thunderbolt and Rechs pulled the trigger on his own weapon as he staggered down the fragile steps of the steel staircase and felt the rail at his back.
Both of the shooters were dead. More were clambering up the stairs, desperate in their escape. Rechs sucked in a lungful of air and tried to get his breath back. It would be bad to have busted his ribs…
That was the only thought he had as stars swam across his vision and breath refused to fill his lungs. He fell to his knees, knowing he might need another charge pack in the scatterblaster. He racked the slide with effort. And then, slowly, the air began to come. The armor was hitting him with blood-vessel expanders and capsicum to force open his airways. The medical diagnostic in the HUD told him nothing was broken. He’d just had the wind knocked out of him.
“Hey, Tyrus…” yelled Giles from far above. Rechs heard the man inhale from his mask again. And then cough. Though just a little. The fits had all been part of the act.
“Hey, man…” crooned Giles Longfree. “I haaaaad to try it, Tyrus. You know. You’re Tyrus Rechs, man. Biggest reward in the galaxy. So… no hard feelings, right? And if you’re thinking about coming up here for me… well, I got a surprise for ya. Not sorry.”
The staircase began to creak and moan.
“Little failsafe we built in!” shouted Giles above the rising din. And then his voice died out in the thunder and rumble of landings above collapsing and tearing away their anchoring bolts. Whole sections of the staircase peeled away from
