Robert Charrette - Never trust an elf

"Good reasons, indeed," Laverty agreed solemnly. "But let me assure you that although they intended me to remain ignorant of their actions, I was not the one whom they feared."

Kham didn't like the sound of that. "Awright, so ya ain't against dem or looking ta cop dere haul. So what-taya doin' here? I heard yer a philanthropist, but I ain't never heard of ya doing much fer orks."

"You cannot know all that I do," Laverty said warningly. "For the moment, believe that I am concerned for your best interests. Certain sources have suggested to me that one of your principals has decided that his tools have become a liability."

"Are you suggesting that he wishes us dead?" Neko asked.

Kham shook his head. "If he wanted us dead, he wouldn'a boddered paying us. Dey'd have done us all out in da woods."

" 'Twould not be unlikely that they feared your combined firepower, Sir Tusk. In the woods, you were all alert and looking for trouble. Your group would have been a more formidable threat."

Neko gave a quick nod of agreement. "Then this disgruntled employer seeks to eliminate us individually in an effort to hide his deed."

Scratching his head, Kham said, "If yer on da level, why should we worry? Yer being here makes dat pointless. Someone already knows about what we did-you do. If dis elf's worried about us talking, he's gonna be worried about you, too. If we're in danger, so are you."

"No. He can be sure that I will not inform those he fears. He cannot be sure of you or the others. Though you intend to be honorable, you may inadvertently become an informer. He will not be content to rely on your intent to keep confidentiality."

"So yer warning us. Why?" Kham asked. "What are ya getting outta dis?''

"Hai. Your motives bear on your trustworthiness," Neko stated. "Do you seek to set us against our former employer?''

"No," Laverty answered, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I only seek your lives."

"A popular commodity today," said a new voice from the door. Forestalling several attempts to reach for weapons, the voice added. "Anybody who moves dies now."

Under his breath Dodger whispered, "But we all go later."

Kham, Neko, and the elves remained where they were, but their eyes took in the half-dozen newcomers. The hoods they wore were like the ones of the Hu-manis policlubbers, but these raiders were too well-equipped to be those hatemongers. Not only did they have matched equipment, but they moved with the precision of well-trained mercenaries. Spaced well for overlapping fields of fire, the four spread along the front wall were covering the room and the stairs, while the two by the door had a clear line into the kitchen. Professionals. They must be the repairmen Laverty had come to warn them about. Kham knew the score. The six raiders had guns trained on them, suggesting that they were ready to do just what their leader had threatened. Those guys wouldn't fool around; any cowboy kind of move and their guns would make history of Kham and his guests.

The speaker rapped out orders to his band and four of his raiders started up the stairs, Kham knew that a bunch of the kids were up there, despite Lissa's attempts to get them outside, but he didn't know who else was up there sleeping in. For a moment he thought that they might take the two left on the ground floor with them, then another four came through the door, closing it behind them. They covered the area of the first four, giving Kham no chance for action. Cautiously the new four.advanced across the main room, leaving the leader and another man near the door.

A scream from the kitchen caught everyone off-guard. The leader looked disturbed and surprised simultaneously. Kham took his chance and smashed the man across the side of the head. He heard the raider's neck bones snap. Grabbing the body as it fell, he heaved it up, letting it take the slugs from the second man's weapon. Most of them, anyway: fire burned lines across Kham's biceps and rib cage while invisible hands plucked at his fatigues. Howling with the pain, he threw the body into the raiders, knocking them aside like tenpins.

Heat flared at his back and he risked a glance. Laverty was wreathed in an aura of fire, with strange, dull silver splotches hanging in the air around him. An automatic weapon opened up from the kitchen, where a new-what was he? number eleven? — gunman stood. His ineffectual fire showed Kham that the silver splotches were slugs that had halted and melted in midair.

The kitchen gunman went down in a burst from someone in the main room. Kham didn't bother to see who fired; he was obviously a friend. Diving for the weapon of the man he had killed, Kham used his momentum on hitting the floor to roll away fast as he snatched the gun.

The three raiders still in the room started firing in concert. Fortunately, they seemed to be ignoring Kham, concentrating their fire on Laverty. Taking down the mage first was standard strategy, but the elf wasn't making it easy for them. He stood still within his protective flames, light flickering over his head like a video transmission breaking up. Then the fourth joined in and the elf's magic couldn't handle it. He spun, spraying blood, and crumpled to the floor.

Kham crawled to the edge of the couch he was using for cover and pumped bullets at the raiders. Two went down, but the other two grabbed cover of their own. Something whirled over his head and as he jerked down, he saw a raider coming back down the stairs behind him. The woman had removed her hood, which let Kham see her look of bewilderment as the shuriken embedded itself in her forehead. She slumped forward, but probably never having seen what killed her.

Gunfire sounded from upstairs. Too many floors up to be the four-no, three now-Kham had seen go up; they couldn't have climbed that fast. That meant that another squad of raiders had also hit from the roof. He should have expected that; these guys were pros. The gunman he had seen in the kitchen and the sounds of combat from the back of the building said that they had come in the back way, too.

Sheila appeared at the top of the stairs, wrestling with someone dressed in combat armor and climbing harness-one of the rooftop squad. Grappling, the two of them crashed through the banister and landed in a heap on the floor. Sheila was on top, but she didn't get up. There was no time to see if she was dead or merely stunned.

A raider staggered through the arch from the kitchen and Kham cut him down. Not smart of him to expose himself like that. Kham's eyes widened as Lissa's favorite carving knife fell from the man's back and clattered to the floor when he hit.

Kham was up instantly, roaring and charging across the main room. The surviving raiders popped up to fire at him, but he didn't care. Lissa needed him. Miraculously, he made it to the kitchen. Behind him he could hear short bursts from the small-caliber weapon

that had taken down the first raider through the kitchen arch. Ahead of him he heard and saw a vicious melee, orks of all ages tangling in close combat with a handful of raiders.

A highly chromed razorguy stood throttling a purple-faced Teresa with one hand and batting away kids with his razor-tipped free hand. Kham took aim with his automatic, but the gun clicked empty, so he tossed it away and threw himself at the razorguy.

As Kham smashed into him, they both went down, Teresa falling bonelessly beside them. Biting down hard into the first part of the guy that came near his mouth, Kham felt his tusks grate on metal, slide until they found soft meat, then sink in. The raider howled and slashed at him. The guy's claws sliced across Kham's arm, shredding his shirt and drawing blood, but Kham didn't care. He slammed his own chromed fist into the man's face, shattering his jaw. Kham couldn't afford to stop; the guy was probably hyped in one way or another and if he could get the initiative, he'd cut Kham to ribbons. Kham swung again and again, feeling muscle and bone turn to pulp under his pounding.