With a shudder the transport stopped. The rear hatch swung open and Caines shielded his eyes as the glare of the sun hit his face. Haden stomped past him, "Well we're here," he growled. "Time for you to be on your way. We've got business to take care of." Caines jumped down from the transport. "You have been most kind," he said taking Haden's hand. "I would like to repay you if I may?" Haden's eyes narrowed, "I told you. I don't expect payment." Caines nodded, "Of course, but I would like to treat you and your men to one last drink before we part company it's the least I can do, considering the trouble you have saved me." For an instant Haden's eyes locked with Caines as though he was searching for some deceit in the man's face. Caines stood, expression blank, letting the merchant assess his motives. The wind rustled their clothing and blew sand into their faces. Finally Haden dropped his eyes. "I've got to get these vehicles refuelled. We'll meet you in the bar on the main street in two hours." Caines smiled disarmingly, "Good. I'll see you there." As he watched Haden, and the ten men that worked with him, depart, he allowed the sneering smile that he'd been harbouring, onto his face. As the haulers disappeared he turned and stalked into the town, he had work to do. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Hart and Morton arrived at the gates of Arat an hour and half after they left the shack. The sun had beat down on them for the whole distance, but neither had noticed the discomfort. They continued through the gates to the small customs checkpoint. The official manning the post, a short, balding man, looked over the data pad he was reading. "Good morning Mr Morton, Mr Hart," he greeted them. "Greetings customs official Tanner," Morton replied, hastening through the checkpoint. He had no desire to become embroiled in an argument over Arat's firearm restrictions today. Thankfully, the official seemed unconcerned with performing his job. "The Emperor has certainly given us a fine day today," he remarked conversationally. Hart stopped, and turned a stern gaze upon the official. "The Emperor has given us everything Mr Tanner." "I suppose he has," laughed Tanner. Morton took Hart's arm and propelled him forwards, before he could respond again. Arat, it seemed, was the same as always. The township was essentially one long street, flanked on either side by pre-fab buildings that looked, rather disconcertingly, more like sheds for livestock, than houses and places of business. Tired, shabby people walked up and down ignoring each other, desperate to gain shade from the heat. The two men walked forward, passing a small market, ignoring the pleading cries of the merchants to purchase their wares. "There's the place," Hart said softly, pointing to a low building further up the street. "What time did Omega tell us to be there?" Morton glanced at his chrono; "We have half an hour. Let us go and prepare." The inside of the bar was if anything less attractive than its battered exterior. Several round tables filled the majority of the box like room, and a selection of bottles was located behind a counter at the far end. Tired eyes swung slowly to the door as the two men entered, and then swung slowly back to their drinks. Hart and Morton had made sure that they'd been seen around town in the previous weeks, and the locals were normally too hot to be curious anyway. Morton strode forward, his long legs covering the distance to the bar quickly. "Yes?" the barman inquired, as Morton approached. "My friend and I will have two of those," Morton replied, gesturing to the nearest bottle. A hint of a smile played across the barman's face, but it died on his lips as he caught Morton's fierce glare. "Here you are," he mumbled. Morton tossed a few credits to him and returned to the table that Hart had chosen. He dumped the bottles on the table and sat down. "What is this?" questioned Hart. "I have no idea," replied Morton. It was a little over an hour later that Caines entered the bar. He walked past Hart and Morton without noticing them and made for a table in the far corner. Behind him a tall man entered, followed by ten others of a similar height. Hart noted the muscular bodies of all of the new arrivals. They were in stark contrast to the malnourished locals. He glanced over at Morton. His face had hardened to stone and his eyes glinted wickedly. Caines had reached the table now and had motioned his companions into the seats surrounding it. Hart started to move, but felt Morton's restraining hand on his arm. "Patience brother!" he hissed. The door swung open and two more men wrapped in similar cloaks to Hart and Morton entered the bar. One moved to a group of locals sitting nearby. Words passed between them, and Hart caught the dull flash of adamantium as the newcomer gestured with his arm. The locals got up hurriedly and left the bar, leaving the two new arrivals to take their place. The two men leant back in their seats in an effort to appear relaxed, but their eyes were intense. In the far corner Caines had returned with the drinks for his companions, and sat down with them. Morton rose slowly, gesturing to Hart to follow him. The newcomers, at a nod from Morton, stood also and moved swiftly to the doorway. The bar had suddenly become deathly silent. Morton crossed the floor on cat's feet until he stood behind the figure of Haden. "Greetings brother Varas," Morton growled with undisguised hatred, "It has been a long time." Haden spun around, his hand straying to his holster, "Who the hell are you!" he began, rising to his feet. Hart lashed out and sent the man sprawling into another table. "I am vengeance!" Morton hissed. Varas, stumbling to his feet, turned to Caines. His eyes narrowed on the man's face as they had before, searching for something - "You!" he gasped. Caines stood, his cloak drawn back to reveal the cross that hung around his neck, and his hand clasping a set of finely honed blades. "You escaped me once Varas," he intoned, "This time I win. You cannot hide from the judgement of the Emperor." Varas backed away. "Chaos damn the Emperor!" he screamed, and pulled his bolt pistol free. The fallen Dark Angel was fast. Before the marines could react he squeezed the trigger and the gloomy interior of the bar was lit up with fire. Morton hurled himself into Hart, knocking him clear of the explosive rounds that were lancing towards him. Varas moved swiftly to the door followed by his squad. The two Dark Angels stationed there stepped forward to cut off their escape, but were knocked to floor as the greater numbers of the fallen assaulted them. Hart scrambled to his feet and leapt after them. "Brother Zaltys!" Morton shouted, "Hold your position. The trap has been sprung." Hart puled back reluctantly from the open door, "Yes master," he replied, disappointment evident in his voice. Caines stepped forward, "Varas is more skilled than even I had believed brother Adonai." The Dark Angel master turned to his chaplain, "The assets of the fallen are not of this world brother Lexus. This time however, not even the gods of chaos will allow him to escape." Varas sprinted toward the main gates of Arat, followed by his fellow marines. The dust blew into his face, stinging his eyes, but he ran on. To stop was to die. How could he have been so stupid!? To fail to recognise an interrogator chaplain! The years must have taken their toll, he thought. They passed through the gates unchallenged, out onto the desert plain. He skidded to a halt. They had to move fast. "Should have gone for the transports!" he muttered to himself. He turned east. Low town was only ten miles. If they kept moving... |
DAY OF JUDGEMENT By ( Jacob Stow ) |
FABLES OF THE UNFORGIVEN |
