Three - Michael Jan Friedman [30]
“Damn,” said Sebring. “There’s someone there.”
“So it would seem,” said Runj, his lip curling in disgust over his tusks.
The figure was on the other side of the shuttle, and he [86] appeared to be gazing in another direction. But he would notice them soon enough if they tried to approach him.
Sebring’s eyes narrowed appraisingly. “I bet we could take him out with one shot.”
“But what if there’s someone inside the shuttle?” Runj asked. “He would take off before we could get to him.”
“And contact his comrades in the installation,” Vigo added. “We wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“So we need to get close to the thing before we make our move,” Sebring observed. “The question is ... how?”
Vigo considered the problem for a moment—which was about all the time they could spare, considering the intruders might find out they were on the loose at any moment.
“One of us will have to distract and incapacitate the guard,” he decided, “while the other two circle around behind him and go after the shuttle.”
Neither of his colleagues argued with the plan. But then, they were rather limited in their options.
There was only one decision left to be made. “Who will be the decoy?” asked Runj.
Vigo eyed the guard. “I will.”
Sebring looked at him. “You sure?”
Vigo nodded. “From what we’ve seen, all the invaders are Pandrilites. I may be able to confuse him for a moment, make him think I’m one of them.”
His colleagues seemed to accept that. It would be dangerous for Vigo, no question about it. But then, it would be dangerous for all of them.
[87] “All right,” said Sebring. He exchanged glances with the Vobilite, and then with Vigo. “Let’s go get him.”
Without hesitation, Sebring moved off to the left over the short, wiry turf, while Runj worked his way to the right. They moved quickly and quietly, looking like shadows on the walls.
Vigo waited until he thought his fellow officers had placed themselves in position. Then he took a deep breath and moved out from concealment.
“Help ...” he groaned, grabbing his belly as if he’d been hit there. He staggered forward. “Help me. ...”
The guard turned around and looked past the shuttle, tilting his head in an effort to see better. “Who is it? What happened?”
“They’re right behind me ...” Vigo gasped, doubling over as he advanced so the Pandrilite couldn’t see his face. “We’ve got to get out of here ... before it’s too late. ...”
The guard just stood there, caught between concern and caution. “Suddig?” he ventured, mistaking the weapons officer for one of the other invaders.
“Yes,” Vigo grated as he lumbered forward, carrying his deception as far as he could. “Help me, please. ...”
Finally putting his wariness aside, the guard rushed across the intervening space, his weapon in hand. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he assured his fellow Pandrilite.
No, thought Vigo. I’ve got you.
As soon as the guard was within a few meters of him, he leaned forward just a little more and gradually accelerated his stagger into a headlong rush. Before the guard [88] knew what was happening, Vigo was bearing him to the ground.
The guard uttered a strangled cry and squeezed a shot off, but it missed the weapons officer and struck the ground instead, leaving a long, black streak of smoking turf.
Vigo had the upper hand, but the guard wasn’t easy to knock out. After all, he was a Pandrilite. Vigo had to drive his fist into the intruder’s face once, twice, and a third time before he finally went limp.
That done, the weapons officer stripped his adversary of his weapons—both the one in his hand and another that Vigo found in his belt. Then he slung the intruder over his shoulder and lumbered the rest of the way to the shuttle.
Sebring and Runj were there already. They signaled to him that the vehicle was empty. On the other hand, they didn’t have any easy way to get inside it.
And they couldn’t simply fire into the plasma exhaust. Not