The Final Battle Read Online Free Page B

Hammer request in detail as soon as I get it from Justice. I’ll be back as soon as I’ve had a chance to look at the Hammer’s paperwork.”
    • • •
    Back in his cell, Michael lay on his bunk, hands behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. The Hammers’ extradition request was a worry. Not because of the request itself—Hammel’s assessment of its chances was probably correct—but because of what it said about the Hammers’ determination to get their hands on him.
    Michael felt very uncomfortable. Once back on the Federated Worlds, he would be safe. Here on Jamuda, he was not, and that meant the Hammers would be coming for him and soon. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life.
    He banged the button on the wall-mounted intercom.
    “Yes?” a disembodied man’s voice said.
    “I need to talk to my lawyer. It’s urgent.”
    • • •
    The guard closed the door of the booth; Michael flicked on the privacy screen and waited in patient silence until the earnest face of his lawyer appeared on the holovid screen. “Hi, François.”
    “What can I do for you?”
    “I want to see someone from the Fed embassy.”
    Hammel frowned. “That won’t be easy. You’re not their favorite person. Can I ask why?”
    “The Hammers aren’t serious about extraditing me. They—”
    “Hold on. I don’t think you can say that.”
    “I can. Like you said, they’ve never extradited anyone from Jamuda, ever, which means they’re wasting their time, and they know it.”
    “I’m sure they do, but that shouldn’t stop them from following legal process.”
    “Legal process?” Michael rolled his eyes. “Oh, François, give me a break,” he said. “This is the fucking Hammers we are talking about. Like they give a damn about due legal process. Come on! They’re just trying to slow things down, that’s all.”
    “Eh? Why would they do that?”
    “So they can kidnap me and take me back to Commitment for a show trial, that’s why. Though why they’d bother, I don’t know. They’re going to kill me anyway.”
    “Not sure I’d agree with that.” Hammel sounded skeptical.
    “Ever been to the Hammer Worlds, François?”
    A look of horror crossed the lawyer’s face. “Hell, no!”
    “Ever met a Hammer?”
    “No.”
    “Heard of Doctrinal Security?”
    “Of course. Who hasn’t?”
    “Well, I’ve been to the Hammer Worlds.” Michael’s voice sharpened as anger took over. “I’ve met lots of Hammers, I’ve been a prisoner, I’ve been tortured by DocSec, and I still carry the scars to prove it. So you should believe me when I tell you that those bastards will come after me, and it won’t be to read me bedtime stories.”
    “All right, all right,” Hammel said, his hands up, “I believe you. But what can your embassy do?”
    “Maybe nothing, but it’s worth asking them to lean on the Jamudans to beef up security around here. From what I’ve seen, a Hammer hit team would have no trouble getting into this place.”
    “Fine,” Hammel said with a sigh. “I’ll contact the embassy. You want to talk to them direct?”
    “I think that would be best.”
    “It won’t be easy, but leave it to me.”
    The cell door swung open, and a guard stuck his head in. “Let’s go, Helfort. You have a visitor.”
    “About bloody time,” Michael muttered. He got to his feet and followed the man out of the cell and down the corridor to the interview room, a cramped space cut in half by a floor-to-ceiling plasglass divider.
    A woman was waiting for him; she looked unhappy. “I’m Colonel K’zekaa,” she said once Michael had sat down. “You asked to see me?”
    “I did, sir. Thanks for coming.”
    “Not my decision, Helfort,” K’zekaa said, her voice tight, controlled.
    “I’m still glad to see you,” Michael said. He wondered just who had leaned on K’zekaa; the woman’s body language screamed her protest. “Did my lawyer give you the background?”
    “He did, and I am not