New Home (Jack Forge, Lost Marine Book 8) by James David Victor

Author:James David Victor
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Fairfield Publishing
Published: 2019-12-16T00:00:00+00:00

6

BERETTA STOOD OVER HEATON, who was strapped into the seat at the rear of the tac boat. Beretta leaned with one arm against the hull and looked down at the Marine.

“What are we going to do with you?” Beretta said with a broad smile.

“Just kill him now, boss! Let me do it!” Titch shouted from the flight console at the front of the boat.

Beretta raised an eyebrow. “Killing you would be the simplest thing. Not sure why I would want to keep a Marine around. Tell me, how would you like to go? Pulse round to the back of the head? Maybe we just flush you out into space. Or would you like to do it yourself?” Beretta rubbed his chin and considered the options.

“I can help you. I’m on the inside. I can be a spy. Let you know what the Marines are doing,” Heaton stammered as he frantically searched for any reason for Beretta to keep him alive.

“Nah,” Beretta said dismissively. “I already have people on the inside, and higher up the food chain than you.” Beretta patted Heaton on the side of the head like parent to child. “You will just be in the way. No hard feelings, but it will be better if we just get rid of you now, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you do, boss,” Titch called out, “do it quick! I’ve got a reading here. The fleet is entering the system. We’ve got two of the destroyers, the carrier, and all the civilian transports. They’re all heading this way.”

“Guess we better get rid of you quick,” Beretta said, stepping back from Heaton, strapped and struggling in the chair. Beretta pulled a pistol from his waistband. He primed the weapon and tapped it against the side of his leg. “Can’t have you knowing my location. Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. I’m not a monster.”

Heaton shook his head, then he spoke with a voice that was breaking but trying desperately to remain calm and somewhat jovial.

“No. No. Listen. You don’t have to do this. I hate the Marines. I can help you.”

Beretta smiled and nodded, holding up the pistol.

“There’s a message coming from one of the destroyers,” Titch said. “It’s already in the system, heading toward that orange gas giant. You want to hear it, boss?”

Beretta grinned. “Yeah, sure, play it.”

The voice of Captain Pretorius aboard the Scorpio crackled over the communication system.

“Scepter. This is Scorpio. We have identified reserves of dense hydrocarbons at the surface of the moon around the system’s orange gas giant. I am attempting to capture as much as I can store. Assistance would be appreciated.”

“This is the Scepter. How can we assist you, Scorpio?”

“If you can get a maintenance team over here, I can convert some of my storage capacity to contain the hydrocarbon fluid. I will be able to bring a lot more back to planet Blue. It could give the fleet a large enough secondary energy resource while we make repairs to the power systems.”

“Copy that, Scorpio. The Scepter will organize a maintenance team for you and dispatch to your location.

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