Fool's Gold: Carson Lyle's War - Part One by Thomas J. Rock Page B
Authors: Thomas J. Rock
Tags: Military science fiction
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proven my colleague to be right about you. Disappointing indeed." One turned to his partner. "You can collect on our wager."
"Collect?" Lyle said. "Collect what?"
"We bet on how reasonable you would be," One side, with a small measure of disappointment.
"You lost," said Two.
Lyle saw Two step forward, then saw a fist come down on his face. It came so quickly, and with such force, it knocked him down to the floor.
He felt left eye swelling up already. He struggled to get to his feet. He leaned against the wall and brought his feet up under him to stand up. He turned around just in time for another blow to strike his jaw. His head snapped back to the left and struck the wall, then he was down again. He was barely aware of his surroundings, but the warm, salty taste of blood was in his mouth. Powerful arms effortless lifted him off the floor, by his jacket.
"The things we can do to the human body, just by touching it, are fine for when we want to be subtle," Two said, standing Lyle up against the wall. "But nothing sends a message like simple brute force."
Lyle felt a sledgehammer hit him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.
"This is what should have been done with you and your band of traitors," Two said, standing him up against the wall again.
Lyle snapped his head forward, hitting Two with his forehead across the bridge of his nose. He saw the agent's head recoil back to its normal position on his neck. For a moment, the agent's nose was crooked, broke from the impact. But in a few seconds, it straightened. There was never any blood. It was if he hadn't been touched.
Two grabbed Lyle by the neck again with his gloved left hand and got into his face. "You got your shot," Two said and started to squeeze Lyle's throat again. "That's more than you deserve."
WHAM! Lyle's head snapped to the right, blood flying across the room.
"You and your kind. You're pirates! You're scum!"
WHAM! Teeth with trailing strings of blood and spit hit the floor.
Two clamped his gloved hand around Lyle's neck again. "The worst common denominator!"
Lyle struggled to get air into his lungs. His breaths turned to wheezing, then to coughs.
"I'm going to find out if I'm right about who you are," Two said, showing outward signs of anger for the first time. "I'll find out…and there won't be any tribunal, this time."
Two kept squeezing. The strength left Lyle's legs. He started sliding down the wall.
"That's enough," said One.
Two kept squeezing, lifting him by the neck back to a standing position. Lyle was limp against the agent's grasp.
"That is enough!"
Two held on to Lyle's neck for two more long seconds and let him drop to the floor.
Lyle forced an eye open. He could barely make out the two agents standing over him. He felt consciousness slipping away.
…Then everything went black.
Chapter 13
"Wake up!"
The voice was distant, barely perceptible.
"Wake the hell up!"
This time the voice was followed by a slimy, wet, stench that poured over him. Carson Lyle sat up suddenly, coughing from water - or something that was supposed to pass for water - that rained down on him from a bucket held over his head by a rough-looking woman.
"This ain't no hotel, hauler!" She said, in a think, raspy voice. "Your hour's up."
Lyle tried to rub the haze out of his eyes. He grimaced. The water on his hands smelled putrid, like unfiltered waste from a garbage scowl. His managed to clear up sight enough to make sense of his surroundings. It looked like it was meant to be a pub - on the lower end of the spectrum. Dank, dirty, smelled of bad, warm beer, and packed with people lacking even the most basic social graces - just the kind of place someone who needed to get out of the public eye would go to.
The woman was wiping the table around him, muttering to herself. "Blimey haulers think they can just crash any old where."
"Where…am I?"
"Bilbo's," she said, pushing him back against the seat of
"Collect?" Lyle said. "Collect what?"
"We bet on how reasonable you would be," One side, with a small measure of disappointment.
"You lost," said Two.
Lyle saw Two step forward, then saw a fist come down on his face. It came so quickly, and with such force, it knocked him down to the floor.
He felt left eye swelling up already. He struggled to get to his feet. He leaned against the wall and brought his feet up under him to stand up. He turned around just in time for another blow to strike his jaw. His head snapped back to the left and struck the wall, then he was down again. He was barely aware of his surroundings, but the warm, salty taste of blood was in his mouth. Powerful arms effortless lifted him off the floor, by his jacket.
"The things we can do to the human body, just by touching it, are fine for when we want to be subtle," Two said, standing Lyle up against the wall. "But nothing sends a message like simple brute force."
Lyle felt a sledgehammer hit him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him.
"This is what should have been done with you and your band of traitors," Two said, standing him up against the wall again.
Lyle snapped his head forward, hitting Two with his forehead across the bridge of his nose. He saw the agent's head recoil back to its normal position on his neck. For a moment, the agent's nose was crooked, broke from the impact. But in a few seconds, it straightened. There was never any blood. It was if he hadn't been touched.
Two grabbed Lyle by the neck again with his gloved left hand and got into his face. "You got your shot," Two said and started to squeeze Lyle's throat again. "That's more than you deserve."
WHAM! Lyle's head snapped to the right, blood flying across the room.
"You and your kind. You're pirates! You're scum!"
WHAM! Teeth with trailing strings of blood and spit hit the floor.
Two clamped his gloved hand around Lyle's neck again. "The worst common denominator!"
Lyle struggled to get air into his lungs. His breaths turned to wheezing, then to coughs.
"I'm going to find out if I'm right about who you are," Two said, showing outward signs of anger for the first time. "I'll find out…and there won't be any tribunal, this time."
Two kept squeezing. The strength left Lyle's legs. He started sliding down the wall.
"That's enough," said One.
Two kept squeezing, lifting him by the neck back to a standing position. Lyle was limp against the agent's grasp.
"That is enough!"
Two held on to Lyle's neck for two more long seconds and let him drop to the floor.
Lyle forced an eye open. He could barely make out the two agents standing over him. He felt consciousness slipping away.
…Then everything went black.
Chapter 13
"Wake up!"
The voice was distant, barely perceptible.
"Wake the hell up!"
This time the voice was followed by a slimy, wet, stench that poured over him. Carson Lyle sat up suddenly, coughing from water - or something that was supposed to pass for water - that rained down on him from a bucket held over his head by a rough-looking woman.
"This ain't no hotel, hauler!" She said, in a think, raspy voice. "Your hour's up."
Lyle tried to rub the haze out of his eyes. He grimaced. The water on his hands smelled putrid, like unfiltered waste from a garbage scowl. His managed to clear up sight enough to make sense of his surroundings. It looked like it was meant to be a pub - on the lower end of the spectrum. Dank, dirty, smelled of bad, warm beer, and packed with people lacking even the most basic social graces - just the kind of place someone who needed to get out of the public eye would go to.
The woman was wiping the table around him, muttering to herself. "Blimey haulers think they can just crash any old where."
"Where…am I?"
"Bilbo's," she said, pushing him back against the seat of
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