Jason Frost - Badlands

"Shit!" he barked and dove for the ground as a metallic chatter sounded. Bullets whizzed by, barely missing him. He glanced back and saw Tracy also flattened to the ground. "You OK?"

"Maybe they just don't like recruiters. You should've told 'em you were Ricardo Montalban and welcomed them to Fantasy Island."

"Hey!" Eric shouted at the men. "I don't know what your mission is, but you're about three or four hours from being attacked by a well-armed army of a dozen or so soldiers. You interested in details?"

There was a long silence, maybe five minutes.

"We're listening," replied a deep female voice.

Eric laughed harshly. "Gee, that's swell of you, but it doesn't quite work that way. We've got information. You want it, you buy it."

Another pause. "What do you want?" the woman asked.

"I don't know," Eric shouted back. "But we'll find something."

"Out of the question," Paige said. Her mouth was tight and her arms crossed, a pose that those who knew her realized meant she wouldn't budge.

Eric shrugged. "Suit yourself, Dr. Lyons. I don't know what you are up to here in the Golden State, but I know when Colonel Fallows and his merry men come tramping through those woods, he's going to turn the Columbia into a swap meet of spare parts."

"We can handle him," Daryl Budd said, tugging his army hat lower over his eyes.

"Maybe," Eric said. "Maybe not. But I don't want to be in your place to find out." He stood up, gestured to Tracy to follow. She lifted her crutches.

"I'm not authorized to give you weapons, Mr. Ravensmith."

"Sure you are."

"What I mean is, we'll need them, especially if what you say about this Colonel Fallows is true."

"Oh, it's true. I know him." He touched the white scar along his jaw. "I know him very well. He wouldn't have been fooled by those government flyers' testing bullshit any more than I was."

"It's not bullshit, Ravensmith," Paige said. "We are here testing, trying to find a way to help all of you survivors. We just didn't want to be swamped by people trying to get us to take them back with us. You can understand that much, can't you?"

Eric shook his head. "Stick with the story if you want, it doesn't matter to me. Here's the deal though. I want one of those HK 93s and three banana clips. Then I might be able to help you with your problem."

Steve Connors stood up and shoved his SPAS shotgun against Eric's chest. "Fuck off, buster. What you'll get is a hole in your chest as big as your mouth."

Eric knocked the barrel aside with his forearm, spun forward, and swung his elbow into Captain Connors's throat. The astronaut gagged, clutched his throat and dropped to his knees. By the time Budd and La Porte had lifted their guns, Eric had twisted the shotgun from Steve's hands and was pointing it at Paige.

"Yeah," Tracy said, climbing to her feet. "And if you've got any magazines, we'll take those too."

"It would be appreciated." Eric smiled.

Paige looked impatiently at her watch. "OK, OK. We don't have the time for this, so we'll level. We're on a mission to rescue somebody from here. We've got less than two days to find him and take off."

"Who is it?" Eric said.

Paige shook her head. "National security."

"Are you kidding me? Who are we going to tell?"

Bart Piedmont laughed. "He's got you there, Paige."

She shot Bart a stern look, then turned back to Eric. "OK. He's a scientist. Got something to do with armed satellites. That's all you need to know."

"What's his name?"

She hesitated, sighed. "Lyons. Dr. Ronald Lyons. Yes, we're related, he's my father. Happy?"

"For now," Eric said. "You have any idea where to look for him?"

"Some."

"But you're not going to tell me?"

Paige remained silent.

Eric walked around the Columbia's large downstairs cabin, his fingers brushing control panels, furniture. It felt funny to be inside, touching everything that he and Annie had looked at through binoculars a few years ago. It made him miss her and he felt that bitter lump rising in his throat. That day as they'd watched she reminded him of what one astronaut had said once when asked what he thought about when orbiting the earth. And he'd said something like how he tried to ignore the fact that his capsule was built by the lowest bidder. Then she'd whispered something naughty in his ear and laughed and laughed. Eric swallowed the lump and smiled.

Steve Connors finally climbed to his feet, rubbing his sore throat, swallowing with great difficulty. He grit his teeth at Eric and said, "Gimme my damn gun, Ravensmith."

"First we reach our agreement."

"Like hell, asshole!"

"Shut up, Captain," Paige said. "What's your proposal, Ravensmith?"

"First, I take the HK 93, complete with laser-aiming device, of course."

"What else?"

"Well, this is the tricky part." He looked straight into Paige's stern eyes. "I want you to take a passenger back with you."

"No way!" Paige said. "Forget that. We'll do just fine without your help, mister. You and your lady can leave now."

"OK, but the moment we walk out of here, your mission is dead. And so are you. Haven't you ever heard of Colonel Dirk Fallows?"

"Wait a minute," Steve Connors said. "Fallows and Ravensmith. Sure, you guys were with that weird bunch, Night Shift. Did all the shit jobs, the clean-up jobs that even the Green Berets wouldn't do." He nodded his head with new respect. "Yeah, I heard of you over in 'Nam. He wiped out some civilian village and you ratted on him, got him thrown in military prison."

"You've got a good memory. Pilot?"

"Yeah. Mostly fighters, sometimes Caribou."

"What else did you hear?"

"That the whole Night Shift group were fugazi, every one of you a double veteran."

Eric laughed.

Dr. Bart Piedmont said, "You guys still speaking English? You flew a caribou, Steve? What's fugazi? A double veteran?"

Paige answered. "A Caribou is a small transport plane. Fugazi is military jive for fucked up. I don't know what a double veteran is."

Eric leveled his flat eyes on her. "It's a man who has sex with a woman and then kills her."

"Swell," she said.

"Now you know what you're up against. Fallows will wipe you out in ten minutes."

Paige looked at Steve, who remained uncharacteristically silent. Obviously he was impressed by this man, and that impressed Paige. Steve might be a pain in the ass, but he was a first-rate pilot and a good judge of everyone's character but his own. She'd have to be careful with the Ravensmith guy.

"OK, Ravensmith, what's your plan?"

"You and me and the pilot go out after your dad. That will leave, including Tracy, four people here to guard the craft."

"Wait a minute, Eric," Tracy protested.

"Now that's still not enough to defend this place, even with your weaponry. Not unless we even the odds by splitting Fallows's group."

"How do we do that?" Paige said.

"We'll deal with that detail later. Right now, we've got to get moving or it'll be too late."

Paige tilted her head and squinted at him. "Suppose we go along with this. You know damn well that this ship is computerized right down to the last pound of weight. Maybe, just maybe we can take a passenger like you ask, but there's no way we can take both of you. We couldn't take the weight." She paused. "So which one of you is going and which one of you is staying? You our passenger, Ravensmith?"

"Nope."

"Oh, so it's ladies first, huh? Your young friend then?"

"Neither of us." Eric walked over to Bart Piedmont. "Your passenger is male, about 120 pounds, almost five-foot-eight. Anything else you need to know?"

Bart Piedmont shrugged. "His name?"

"Tim Ravensmith."

"Where is he?" Paige asked.

"With Fallows. He was kidnapped. But he'll be here at lift-off."