Blackcollar: The Judas Solution by Timothy Zahn Read Free Book Online Page A

"But come—I have a car ready. Load your packs in the trunk and I'll take you to see Reger."
    "Thank you," Skyler said. Manx Reger, one of Denver's most powerful crime bosses, hadn't been particularly pleased the last time the Plinry blackcollars had come through his territory, their presence threatening to upset the comfortable status quo that existed between the various crime bosses who effectively ran the region. Still, when they'd left he'd been cautiously interested in Anne Silcox's plans to rebuild a Resistance cell in the area.
    Skyler could only hope the man was still feeling charitable toward unannounced guests.
    * * *
    Dragging himself out of a deep sleep, General Avral Poirot, head of Security for Denver, got to the phone on the third ring. "Poirot," he said, his voice croaking a little with dry throat.
    "Bailey, sir," Colonel Pytor Bailey's voice answered. "I think we may finally have Manx Reger." The last wisps of sleep vanished from Poirot's brain. "Explain."
    "We had a drop pod breech in the mountains west of Boulder about half an hour ago," Bailey said.
    "Same general location where Reger usually gets his Resistance deliveries." Poirot scowled into the darkness. Reger had been getting those deliveries at irregular intervals for nearly a year now, ever since Lathe's blackcollar team had come roaring into town and assassinated retired North American Prefect Ivas Trendor.
    Why a man of Reger's wealth and comfort had gotten involved with the Resistance was still a mystery. But involved he was, and Poirot knew it.
    But knowing and proving were two different things, even with the lax standards of evidence the Ryqril overlords permitted in cases like this. So far they'd never been able to catch Reger with the goods, or to find any other tangible evidence that he was involved. "How does this particular drop give him to us?"
    "Because this one's chutes didn't open," Bailey said. "Which means that instead of being packed and ready to be thrown onto a truck, whatever it was should be scattered fairly randomly across the landscape."
    Poirot smiled grimly as he swung his legs out of bed. And scattered merchandise could take quite a while to collect back together. If they hurried, they might make it to Reger's place before the goods did. "Do we have any spotters in the area?"
    "I've scrambled two from Boulder," Bailey said. "They're still en route to the drop area."
    "Keep them high," Poirot warned. "I don't want them scaring away the scavengers."
    "Yes, sir," Bailey said.
    "And then grab a couple of unmarked cars and a strike team," Poirot added, pulling his uniform off the bedside rack. "You and I are going to be sitting with Mr. Reger in his conversation room when the merchandise arrives."
    * * *
    "There it is," Lathe said, pointing out one of the shuttle cargo bay's small portholes at the dark mass coming rapidly up toward them from below. "Ever been to a frontline world in the Ryqril-Chryselli war, Caine?"
    "No," Caine said, a shiver running through him. Growing up in Central Europe, though, he'd seen the kind of warfare the Ryqril could unleash when they wanted to. Lathe and the others, stationed on Plinry, had seen far more of it. "Any idea how badly it's been mauled?"
    "Lepkowski didn't mention anything in particular," Lathe said. "I imagine we'll find out soon enough. Spadafora?"
    "All set," Tardy Spadafora confirmed, straightening from his check of the large winch bolted to the deck at the shuttle's stern. "You sure this thing's going to work?"
    "We've done it in reverse," Lathe reminded them. "How much harder can it be going the other direction?"
    "Yeah, that's one way to look at it," Spadafora said dryly. "Sounds remarkably like those classic last words, 'Hey, everyone—watch this.'"
    "You're welcome to ride the shuttle the rest of the way to the spaceport if you'd prefer," Lathe offered. Spadafora wrinkled his nose. "No, that's okay."
    Above the aft hatchway, an amber light blinked on. "Here we go," Lathe