THE INTERROGATOR

By: CindyR

Blake looked around the flight deck noting the same weariness in the others that he felt in himself. The last mission had not gone well. An urgent request from an old friend for weapons had sent Blake and his crew on a near-suicide raid against a heavily defended Federation armory. Although they had succeeded in stealing the needed weapons, still it had nearly cost them the Liberator and everyone aboard. They needed rest badly and Blake silently promised himself and his crew a long vacation on a quiet planet. With a beach, he mused, and grass and...

This pleasant revelry was interrupted by the Zen computer, its mechanical voice cutting through the quiet of the flight deck. "Information. There is an incoming message from the planet Q’Tax on a shielded sub-space frequency."

"That's Avalon's new home planet," Cally said, straightening up from her charts.

"What do you think she wants?" Vila's voice was plaintive. He did not like dangerous missions and, whenever they heard from Avalon, it usually meant something was in the wind.

Avon's slightly sarcastic voice put it into words. "Another heroic mission no doubt. Putting our lives in danger seems to be the mark of all truly great rebel leaders."

Blake ignored the comment. There had always existed a great deal of tension between him and the other man, though Blake would have wished it differently. None of them knew very much about Avon. The man had been sent to the Cygnus Alpha penal colony for attempting to steal five million credits from the Federation Banking System. And after six standard months that was about all Blake knew except that the dark-haired man was reputed to be the finest computer specialist of his generation. His attention, for the moment, stayed with the computer. "Put it on the main screen, Zen," he ordered, standing to face the glowing fascia.

Avalon's face appeared. She was a striking woman of middle age; straight and slender, she carried an air of authority around her like a cloak of steel. She had organized the rebellion on several worlds, helping many to an efficient system for continuing the long fight to freedom. Blake had a great deal of respect for her. "It's good to see you, Blake. I heard you had a bit of a close call on that last mission." Avalon had a very effective intelligence system, Blake thought wryly, and a talent for understatement. '’A bit of a close call’ indeed!

"Avalon," he greeted her. "It's good to hear from you too, but I assume you didn't risk a tight beam transmission to exchange pleasantries. You've got a problem." It was not a question.

Avalon's sharp eyes scanned the flight deck for a moment. "Yes, Blake, I do have a problem. You're familiar with Cal Symcek?"

Blake nodded. "Yes. He's organizing a rebellion of New Genesis. A competent man."

"Very competent. Symcek has organized a massive uprising on that planet scheduled for exactly fifty hours from now. At that time the governors of the entire planetary system will be in the capital for a Federation policy meeting. Once their assembled two rebel groups will attack the garrison there, with a coordinated uprising taking place immediately thereafter. This is an opportunity to disorganize the entire structure of Federation government on a half-dozen worlds, Blake. It could be a massive blow to the Federation if we handle it properly."

Blake threw himself back onto the padded couch and crossed his legs at the ankle in a deceptively casual pose. "The Federation will be hard pressed to reestablish control in so many areas at once. But where do I fit in?"

Her cool voice filled the room, at odds with the distressed look on the pretty face. "There are two full attack squadrons lying just outside the quadrant, Blake. Enough fire power to smash the uprising. We’ve already arranged to knock out the communications facility on New Genesis, but there is a major relay station on nearby Valen. New Genesis can still relay a message through that station to the fighter squadrons. Our only hope is to prevent those squadrons from receiving any messages until the revolt is an accomplished fact and we have access to the planetary defense system. I've already lost two teams on Valen and can't get anyone else there in time to stop that message relay. You and Liberator are our only hope."

Beside him Blake heard Avon's snarl of disgust. "I'm extremely tired of being the 'only hope' of people I neither know nor care about! We're already on a mission. If these people can't coordinate..."

Avalon's voice grew diamond hard, interrupted the tirade. "You of all people should be looking forward to this mission, Avon. The man in charge of the relay station is Commander Kregg of Federation Security."

Avon froze. "Kregg." The words were breathed softly. Blake looked from Avon to Avalon and back again. When no explanation was forthcoming he asked impatiently, "You know this Kregg?"

Avon smiled grimly. "Oh, yes, I know him. When I was first arrested, Kregg was working for Federation Security on earth. He was in charge of my interrogation. His methods were not ...gentle." Avon's face was impassive, but Blake saw the dark eyes flicker and, for just a moment, there was a haunted look in them, pain and fear written quite clearly. Then a shutter seemed to drop in front of those eyes and the look was gone. Blake wondered what kind of torture Avon had had to endure under Kregg‘s questioning techniques. He felt a wave of sympathy for the other man; he was familiar with such methods as Kregg would have used. Personally familiar.

Avon sought Blake out with his eyes. "I will help you destroy the relay station on Valen under one condition: Kregg belongs to me."

"We can't afford a personal vendetta, Avon," Blake pointed out gently, "We'll be hard pressed to get in and out alive."

The other man's voice was steel. "The condition is not negotiable, Blake. I will have Kregg, with or without your help."

Avalon broke in again. "Well, Blake, what's it going: to be? Will you take the mission?"

Blake studied Avon a moment longer, could see the grim determination in those cold brown eyes, then turned back to Avalon. "We'll do it, Avalon. Transmit all the information you have on Valen Base, anything that might help."

Avalon nodded to a technician out of monitor range. "Transmitting now, Blake, although there isn't a great deal. We do have a rudimentary rebel cell organizing on Valen, not much more than a group of disgruntled workers at this point. Don't count on any help from them. It's not a heavily guarded station, but there is a small garrison quartered there. They maintain order among the workers in the nearby capital."

"How did you lose your other teams?" Avon asked curiously.

"The trouble was in breeching the outer security perimeter. There had been a small uprising in town and security was tighter than usual. You won't have that problem with Liberator's teleport capacity. And Blake..." She looked deep into Blake's eyes "There are many lives depending on this. Getting sidetracked could be a mistake."

"My people are professionals, Avalon," Blake's voice was cold, but inside he, too, was worried. "We'll handle the situation."

The woman smiled grimly. "Good luck then. We're all counting on you."

Avalon's final words hung in the air as she cut transmission. Jenna, Cally and Vila talked among themselves leaving Blake free to approach Avon. The computer tech had not moved, his eyes were slightly unfocused, seeing ...What? His eyes focused as he became aware of Blake's presence, becoming once again hard and cold. "I meant what I said, Blake. I will go with you, but I intend to settle accounts with Commander Kregg."

Blake's eyes searched Avon's face, his voice gentle. "You do know what you're risking here? A lot of lives are depending on us.

"This is a straightforward mission, Blake. You don't even need me on it. Vila can get you through any locked doors and Cally can set the bombs. I…" he smiled grimly, "…have personal business to take care of with the garrison commander. Alone."

"No, not alone." Blake was definite. "We stay together on this one. Help us sabotage the communications equipment, then we'll help you to 'deal' with Kregg." Blake couldn't quite interpret the look that flashed in Avon's dark eyes but it warmed him suddenly, making him smile. "After all, you need someone to keep you out of trouble."

***

Everything began smoothly. Orac, tapping into the computer system, was able to locate the construction plans for Valen base. Blake, Avon and Vila teleported into a storage room inside the base, close to the corn system. It was the work of seconds for Vila to get the door open, and the three men were making their way silently down the corridor. Outside .the communications room two guards stood talking quietly, obviously expecting no trouble so deep behind their security lines. It was almost too easy. Neither guard had time to shout before being clubbed down by the intruders.

Vila knelt before the locking system. "You know, this isn't really much of a test for someone with my skills. I'm being wasted here, Blake." He smiled happily as the door slid open. "See? A child of six could have opened it." He waited, expecting the usual sarcastic rejoinder from Avon, and was surprised when the computer expert silently stepped around him into the room. Avon never missed the opportunity to insult the thief -- both men seemed to thrive on their constant arguing. But this time Avon did not rise to the bait. His face was cold and set, his eyes far away.

Blake watched him worriedly, then turned to Vila and the matter at hand. "Keep watch. We'll only be minutes." He followed Avon into the room leaving Vila feeling suddenly very alone.

It was no more than five standard minutes later that Vila appeared at the door very quietly. His voice curiously subdued. "Blake, Avon, turn around very slowly. This very nice gentleman has a blaster in my back."

Both men complied, raising hands high in a show of surrender. Vila stepped into the room closely followed by a tall, muscular man dressed in the black uniform of Federation Security. Three more guards entered, guns drawn, and relieved Blake and his men of their weapons.

Blake's mind whirled. "How..."

Vila grimaced. "One of the guards was only stunned. He put a gun in my back and tripped some alarm before I could move.

The tall man examined his captives closely, his sharp eyes missing nothing. He took in Blake's powerful physique, noting the intelligence and alertness in his eyes. Next the guard moved on to Avon, slim and dark, coiled like a snake about to strike. Finally to Vila. There was fear in his eyes, but a craftiness too. "Take no chances with them," he ordered without preamble. "They’re all dangerous."

Hands tightly bound, Blake and his men were herded to a detention area where they were searched and all personal items including teleport bracelets were confiscated and locked away. The three men exchanged a look of surprise that no questions had been asked of them. Why? Interrogation was part of the routine. What were they waiting for -- or who?

The answer soon became clear. The interrogation room door opened to admit, first several guards, then the tall man in black. Finally, a man in officers garb pranced -- that was the only work for it -- into the room. He was short and soft looking. His weak mouth puckered, giving his whole face the look of a baby about to cry. He wore his uniform immaculately -- from the top of his brushed cap to the sole of his polished boots. Blake thought he looked ridiculous, until he looked into the man's eyes... The eyes were hard and bright like two pieces of glass. Blake couldn't repress a faint shudder at those eyes. Madness was there, yes, and cruelty too. The eyes of a sadist. Blake shuddered again.

"I am Commander Kregg, head of Federation Security on this planet. You've already met Sub-commander Levon." He gestured to the tall man. Commander Kregg was obviously enjoying himself. "You've broken into a high security base. I want to know how you did it, who you are and why you're here or…" The little man smiled "…or I can make things rather uncomfortable for you."

Blake smiled grimly. "I’ve a feeling things are going to get 'uncomfortable’ for us no matter what," he said genially. He thought desperately. Stall. Cally and Jenna needed time to contact Avalon and Avalon needed time to protect as many of her people as she could. Where was his much vaunted ingenuity now?

Kregg used the moment to sum up the men if front of him much as Sub-Commander Levon had done, staring hard when he noted the fear in Vila's eyes. Kregg concentrated his attention of the hapless thief. "Here on the frontier worlds we don’t have the sophisticated techniques that headquarters uses. We rely on more, er, primitive methods. Primitive, but effective.'' He touched Vila's face and the thief flinched. "But they always work."

Blake's mind worked furiously. It was possible this petty sadist didn't know the importance of his captives. At least not yet. The longer they held out, the longer Jenna and Cally would have to contact Avalon. But Vila was no hero. Not the coward he pretended to be either, still Blake knew Vila would not hold out long against Kregg's type of persuasion. He had to get Kregg's attention away from Vila and onto himself. Blake had no illusions. He knew he, like anyone else, would eventually break down under Federation torture, but was confident of being able to hold out longer than Vila. And time did count. But how...?

The problem was taken out of his hands. Avon's quick mind had come to the same conclusions as Blake’s, and now he stepped forward, eyes blazing with contempt. "You're a fool, Kregg, if you think an effeminate fop like yourself will get any of us to talk. Servalan must have been pretty desperate to allow you to remain with the security forces after the way you failed with me."

Kregg's eyes sparkled delightedly as he listened to Avon. "Kerr Avon -- of course! I should have recognized you immediately. Kerr Avon." Kregg reached up to run his finger gently down Avon's cheek. "I've thought about you often." The voice was a caress. "You'll get your turn, my friend. I'll see to that personally." Without warning, Avon spit in his face.

In other circumstances, Blake would have been tempted to laugh at the little commander. With his face screwed up in surprise; he really did Look like a baby about to cry. But one look into those mad eyes eliminated any possible humor. The guards all stiffened in shock as Kregg carefully wiped his face and smiled again that pleasant, pleasant smile that made Blake shiver again. Avon, what have you done? he screamed silently. And inside a small voice answered him: Only what you were going to do, Blake. Only what you were going to do.

Kregg finished wiping his face and carefully put away his handkerchief. He half turned away from Avon, then swung back a vicious back-hand blow that knocked the man to the floor. He fell heavily, his bound hands unable to break the fall.

Blake stepped forward and was brought up short by two of the guards. S.C. Levon watched impassively as he had many times in the past though a thrill of fear glittered in the depths of his expression and the perfectly still manner in which he held himself.

Kregg smiled again. "Then again, there is time for the weak one later. I'm going to enjoy this." Two guards pulled Avon to his feet. "Soften him up a little," he instructed, "But don't kill him." Kregg peered into Avon's eyes. "No, don't kill him. We have much to talk about."

Blake struggled against the hands that held him as two guards began a savage and methodical beating of his friend. Blake heard himself shouting as though from a distance. He wanted to close his eyes -- yet could not. Dimly he glimpsed Vila's face, the horror stamped there mirrored his own. Horror, anger, frustration, helplessness. Blake felt sick yet could not look away. "Avon!"

Kregg observed everything with a smile. He did not miss the expression on Blake's face. Kregg was a sadist, true, yet he was also a talented interrogator. Valuable information was being gleaned from this small 'warm-up' session. Kregg now knew that the larger man was the leader and that he cared deeply for his friends. He had not missed the frantic concentration on the man's face earlier. If the dark-haired Avon had not drawn his attention away from the third man this powerfully built, curly haired rebel would have tried. Kregg smiled wider. The fearful one could wait. Kregg could afford to indulge himself awhile.

And the leader cared for his men. Kregg's mind drifted back to that point. It could be a valuable lever when the true interrogation began. Men who cared for others always tended to be a bit weak. Thus, he turned to Blake. "You can stop this right now, you know. All you have to do is answer a few simple questions." Blake glared back defiantly, but Kregg had the answer he wanted written in Blake's eyes. Guilt, compassion for his friend, responsibility. Yes, this might work. Kregg would use that lever at the proper time.

After what seemed a lifetime Kregg signaled a halt. Blake nearly sobbed with relief and Vila sagged near collapse. Avon lay on the floor, his eyes closed and his breathing was a harsh rasping sound, loud in the suddenly quiet room. Blake Blood masked part of his face and bruises showed where his shirt had been ripped away. Kregg stooped down to peer into Avon's face. "I trained my men not to touch the eyes, you know," he said conversationally. "I like to be able to look into the eyes of the man I am working with. The eyes tell everything. But not now, I see; perhaps later." Kregg stood up. "Take them to the detention cell. I will question them one at a time later.

The guards herded Blake and Vila through to a detention cell, while two of their number dragged an unconscious Avon. They were shoved rudely into a small, bare room without windows, only one door. Blake caught his balance and knelt beside Avon who lay on his face where the guards had tossed him. Blake hissed to Vila "Can you get my hands untied?" He noted with no sense of surprise whatsoever that Vila had already managed to free his own hands. A useful talent that; he would get Vila to teach it to him -- if they survived this.

It was the work of seconds to free his hands and then Blake was gently turning Avon over onto his back, carefully probing for injuries. Avon was bleeding badly from a cut on his head, the blood flowing down his cheek and matting the dark hair. Blake's fingers encountered severe bruising on his friend’s chest and back and Blake felt some ribs loose. Avon was breathing harshly, but there was no sign of blood on his lips -- the interrogators had been well trained to leave painful but non-life threatening results. At least not at this stage of the game.

Avon's eyes flickered open, unfocused and hazy. Blake peered down at him, holding him tightly when the waves of pain doubled him over. Emotions, powerful and frightening, welled up inside the dark eyes, ear of further pain and need for Blake's strength mingled and overwhelmed. Then fear forced out need as it always did. . "No," he whispered, trying to push Blake away.

Under normal circumstances Blake would have respected Avon's barriers, would have retreated to a distance Avon considered safe. But this time Blake could sense, more strongly that ever, the need and fear in the other man. Blake's- own emotions were close to the surface at the moment, there was a fear within him. This time Blake would not be pushed, would not retreat. He held Avon even closer, offering security and support against the pain. After a moment Avon stopped pushing him away; for just a moment Avon's grip on his arm tightened in return, accepting the friendship Blake offered, and then he went limp in Blake's arms, consciousness fading again.

Vila knelt across from Blake. He spoke no word, but offered his own support and friendship. Blake looked into his eyes and saw Vila's emotions quite clearly. Vila also knew why Avon had provoked Kregg and there was guilt there, as well as respect and affection. Avon and Vila argued constantly aboard Liberator, but beneath the sharp words Blake had noticed the underlying warmth between the two men.

Vila reached out one hand to gently brush back some hair from Avon's eyes. He murmured softly, sadly "And he calls me a fool," before smiling at Blake and getting to his feet. Vila began to prowl the room looking for scanners, checking the lock on the door, peering into the hall to check on the guards. Blake trusted him to do the job efficiently. Vila was one of the best thieves in the galaxy. If anyone could find a weak spot in the security system it would be Vila.

Blake continued to hold Avon while he submerged himself in thought. Define the problem -- make that problems -- first. Step one: Get out of the cell without alerting the guards. Step two: Locate their weapons, explosives and teleport bracelets. Step three: Locate and disable the communication center. Easy. Sure. Step one was up to Vila.

Vila had easily located the visual scanners in the wall. Now he returned to Blake and knelt again opposite him, letting the larger man block the scanners. Vila unobtrusively reached down to the sole of one boot and slipped it sideways.

It came off and several small instruments slipped out. Vila replaced the sole and grinned up at Blake. "My own idea," he whispered. "Can't carry much, but then a good thief doesn't need much, do I?" The smile faded. "I can open the door but there are two guards outside, and from what I can see, the troops quarters are right down the hall. We wouldn't make it ten feet. What do we do now?"

"Wait. There's nothing else we can do right now except wait for our chance. Avon's unconscious anyway and we'd never get far carrying him."

Vila looked down at the unconscious man thoughtfully. "He looks quite different like this." He grinned suddenly. "Almost human. You know he's going to be furious when he wakes up."

Blake smiled in return. "Let's hope Avon's temper is the only thing we have to worry about then."

***

Back on Liberator Jenna and Cally waited impatiently. Blake had missed two check-ins already and a third was due. Somehow they knew he would miss that one too.

"I'm going down." Cally stood up decisively. "They're several hours overdue." She reached for a weapon and began to strap it around her waist. Jenna's hand on her arm made her pause.

"It's suicide, Cally. They must be on alert now. They'll be expecting a rescue attempt. And that compound is full of Federation troops in addition to normal security. And you may have to search for them if they're not in a cell. The odds are too high that you'll be captured as well."

Cally considered a moment. "You are right. With those troops in the garrison the risk is too high. She saw a gleam in the other woman's eye. "Jenna, you have a plan."

"What we need is a diversion to get those troops outside the garrison so you can move about freely. Avalon told us there was a small rebel group working in the area. Were they to attack the garrison those guards would have something more important to do than watch three unarmed prisoners."

Cally looked doubtful. "They tried attacking the base once already and were badly beaten. Why should they be willing to try again?"

Jenna smiled. "Not out of altruism. This ship is carrying captured Federation weapons as well as a fortune in gold and jewels. All we have to do is find out which appeals more to our local rebel leader. As Avon once said: Everyone has a price."

"I would have felt better had you quoted anyone else." Both women laughed, the strain relieved at the prospect of action.

"Then let us make contact. You will lead them in the attack." Cally stopped Jenna's automatic protest with a raised hand. "One of us should be with them. They must not be allowed to withdraw too quickly. And I am trained in infiltration as well as sabotage. It is logical for me to go after them."

"Very well," came the reluctant reply, "But I’m instructing Orac to keep us in constant contact. Should you have any trouble at all I am going to teleport in to join you. Understand?"

Cally smiled a little at the determined voice. Jenna was used to command and it showed. "I understand. Orac, contact the local rebel leader…. ''

***

Vila leaped to his feet when the alarms went off. Running to the door he saw several troopers heading for the stairs, all moving quickly and fully armed. He turned to Blake. "Must be an alert of some kind. But who..."

"The rebels!" Blake's eyes shone with renewed hope. "Avalon said there was a small rebel faction on this planet. They must be making some kind of an attack and I'll bet I know who we have to thank for it!

"Vila, get that door opened. This is the best chance we'll ever get. Avon," Blake turned his attention to the man lying on the floor. Avon was stirring slightly, roused by the blare of the alarms. Blake shook him gently, willing the other man to open his eyes. "Avon, wake up. We're getting out of here now, but you must be conscious. Wake up!" Avon opened his eyes and peered blearily up at Blake, trying to focus, Blake slapped his face lightly and Avon's eyes started to blaze, consciousness returning suddenly. He pulled away from Blake, attempting to sit up. Blake spoke to him again, urgency in his voice. "We're getting out of here, Avon, Can you walk?"

"Yes." Avon was very pale and every move made him clench his teeth against the pain. Blake felt a pang of worry for his friend but there was no time for this now. Blake gently hauled him to his feet just as Vila stepped back from the door.

"It's opened, Blake, but there are still two guards out there. And they're both armed."

Blake helped Avon over to stand behind the door, then prepared himself. "We'll have to take them, Vila. Ready?" Vila, looking frightened but determined, nodded. Blake counted silently and threw open the heavy door. Both guards spun towards them, raising their blasters. They were far too late.

Blake and Vila were on them in an instant. Blake kicked out, knocking the blaster form his opponent’s hand. Both men were evenly matched, but the advantage of surprise lay with Blake who, with a savagery born of desperation, rained blows and kicks on the other man who was vainly trying to shout a warning. A blow to the stomach quashed the attempt and the guard concentrated on getting in range of his blaster. Blake grew desperate. Every minute the fight lasted brought possible discovery closer. He had to end the fight somehow, quickly.

Meanwhile, Vila's guard was beginning to believe he was grappling with a bag of wildcats. Vila, by no means a large man, used every fighting technique he had ever learned during his childhood among the Delta levels. Though he couldn't hope to match Blake's physical strength or Avon's lithe grace, still he used every dirty trick ever invented, trying to keep his opponent off-balance and in enough pain and confusion for Blake to lend a hand. Unfortunately, the guard’s greater bulk and training turned the advantage after a moment. Vila found himself backed against the wall, the guards fingers hooked in his throat. "Help—" he croaked, beginning to slump.

The assault was abruptly cut off by the sound of a blaster and a shock transmitted through the guard’s body. The pressure about Vila’s neck relaxed suddenly as the man was thrown violently down the hall. From her position near the door, Cally lowered the weapon, running to help Vila up. "Are you all right?" she asked. "For a moment I thought I was too late."

Vila's breath came in great gasps. He couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs, but then his breathing slowed enough for him to give her a nod and to rasp out, "Sight for sore eyes, Cally. Thought I was finished."

Both turned around just as Blake's antagonist slid unconscious to the floor. Blake straightened, his own breathing heavy. "Cally! That alert?"

"It's the local rebels, Blake. They've staged an attack on the perimeter, but it cannot last long. We have to get out of here. Where is Avon?"

"Right here." Avon's voice came from behind them. He was slowly rising from his knees holding a blaster. Blake noticed how slow his movements were, but the blaster was steady in his hand. "Which way, Blake?" he asked, his voice taut.

"I want you to teleport back to the Liberator, Avon." Blake made his voice as reasonable as possible. "You're in no condition to go on with us."

Avon met his look. "You forget, I do have an appointment with the base commander." His glare softened slightly under that concerned gaze. "I'm all right, Blake. Don't try to stop me. This is something I have to see through. Now which way?"

Blake gestured down the hall. "This way and up those stairs. Vila -- help Avon." Blake moved ahead warily, looking for more guards. Vila reached to take Avon's arm but hesitated at the savage glare in the computer expert's eyes. Avon's fierce independence never allowed him to accept help from anyone -- but this time there was no choice. Vila completed the gesture, taking a firm grip on the man's arm and, half supporting him, hustled after Blake.

The small group raced through the complex encountering only one startled trooper, and then they were in front of the interrogation room. Despite their haste, all three men paused momentarily, remembered terror and pain-flashing back. Blake glanced at Avon. Of the three only his expression showed nothing, but in the dark eyes Blake saw something cold, then it was gone and Blake was opening the door.

As expected the room was empty. Vila moved quickly toward the locked safe which held their equipment while Blake and Avon watched the hall. Blake risked a quick glance at the other man. Though his strength was depleted and blood still flowed from the cut on his head, Avon again had his wits about him, the gun steady in his hand. Blake silently admired the stubborn determination that kept the man on his feet.

Vila reappeared at Blake's side. He passed out the teleport bracelets and double-checked the bag of explosives. "Everything is here, Blake. Let's get out of here before the troopers come back. Please?" Vila's voice was plaintive but resigned. He already knew what Blake was going to say.

"No, Vila, we have to blow up this complex. The freedom of a million people may depend on it."

Avon smiled grimly. "Our fearless leader intends to finish the game, Vila. You should know that by now. Let's get this over with." He started down the hall leaving Blake and Vila to follow.

The communications equipment was housed in a room near the interrogation room. Blake burst through the door, felling a guard with one shot, then covering the others in the room. Kregg looked up from a surveillance monitor he had been studying, his weak mouth proscribing on ‘O’ of surprise. Beside him S.C. Levon aborted a grab for his sidearm and studied the hard faces before him, biding his time.

"Nobody move." Blake's voice was harsh, unyielding. Cally and Vila moved to place the explosives around the computers, setting the timers.

Avon had eyes only for the commander, ignoring everything else. He moved toward the little man slowly and inexorable, his eyes steel. "I've waited a long time to kill you, Kregg. I wish I had time to make you suffer as your victims suffered but I don't." All eyes had shifted to Avon, including Blake's. That cold voice held promise of death that chilled even the guards, inured as they were.

"No!" Kregg retreated a step, his face turning a pasty white. "No! Please...!"

Avon continued to advance, his hands reaching for Kregg's throat. The little commander cringed. . .

And Levon struck! He had deliberately blocked out the drama playing out before him, concentrating his attention instead on the others in the room. When he saw Blake's attention drift for the merest second he knew it was time to act. Levon threw an object from the desk, striking Blake's gun and knocking it from his hand. He closed with the rebel leader to prevent him retaining his weapon, sure in his superior size and strength.

As Levon started to move so did the two security guards. Both lunged for their weapons lying just out to reach, but neither made it. Avon turned, drew and fired his own weapon all in one smooth motion, stopping the guards. Unfortunately he had to turn his back on Kregg, who seized his opportunity, delivering a vicious side kick to Avon's already damaged chest. Kregg struck him again as he went down, then grabbed a weapon from one of the fallen guards, covering Cally and Vila before they could draw their own weapons.

Blake grappled desperately, fear-produced adrenalin giving him the strength to hold his own against his larger adversary. Neither man was able to gain the advantage but time was not on Blake's side. He broke free of the larger man, snatching up his weapon.

Kregg smiled and brought his own weapon to bear on Blake. Cally and Vila were too far away to help their leader. Kregg's finger tightened on the trigger...

Two blasts thundered at once. One -- Blake's -- caught S.C. Levon in the chest. Levon looked at Blake a moment in silent wonderment, then pitched to the floor unmoving. Blake spun around.

Avon sat somewhat unsteadily on the floor, his blaster still in his hand, gazing at Kregg. There was not much of Kregg's face left, the blast had caught him there, but Avon stared at him intently, a dazed look on his face. "I … can’t see your eyes, Kregg," he whispered.

Blake knelt between Avon and that grisly remnant, gently removing the gun from unresisting fingers. "Avon?"

The dark eyes searched Blake's face, shock dulling them. "He’s dead, Blake, finally dead." Each word gasped through a haze of pain.

"Yes, Avon, he's dead." Blake's voice was soft. He laid a supporting hand on the man's shoulder and glanced at Cally and Vila. "We're running out of time. Are those charges set?"

They joined him. "Ready, Blake."

"Let's get out of here," Vila added.

Blake raised his teleport bracelet. "Liberator."

Jenna's smile came through in her voice. "Liberator. Ready to come up?"

"Get us out of here."

A familiar disorientation swirled around him and the welcome sight of the teleport room appeared. Blake heaved a sigh of relief -- cheating death was getting to be an everyday occurrence, he thought sourly. He turned to the man on the floor. "Come on, Avon, let's get you to the medical unit. Can you make it?"

"Of course." Blake looked dubious but gently hauled the other man to his feet. Avon's legs collapsed under him halfway there and he was forced to endure the indignity of being carried the rest of the way by the snickering two other men.

Blake put him down on the bed with a sigh of relief. "I do believe you're putting on weight, Avon." He was rewarded with a baleful glare. Blake exchanged a cheeky grin with Vila and bent to help tend the man's injuries.

***

"Avon."

Avon opened his eyes slowly. The painkillers were beginning to work and he felt deliciously sleepy. "What do you want, Vila?" The others had gone, leaving Vila in case Avon needed anything. Vila spoke hesitantly, for once unsure of his words. That snapped Avon instantly awake. Vila having trouble talking?

Vila took a deep breath and plunged in like a diver into cold water. "Avon, I just want you to know that I know what you did back there and I appreciate it." He turned a defiant eye back to the startled computer tech. "Don't you dare say a thing except 'you're welcome, Vila' or so help me..."

"You're welcome, Vila." The words were solemn but his eyes sparkled with amusement. "But next time--"

"Next time you visit an old friend, Avon, leave me home, eh?"

Avon nodded. "It's a promise, Vila," and fell asleep in the warmth of Vila's delighted laughter.

finish