Gates of Hell

by Daniel Gibbs

  “Interesting. What about non-combat help?”

  “They’re feeding us, and providing shelter. But we can’t count on them for much more, or that they won’t rat us out.”

  Ruth frowned sharply. “I disagree, Master Chief. I think they’re good people that have a strict moral code. We have to frame our requests in a form that is compatible with their beliefs.”

  “You’re smoking something if you think these dudes are going to pick up weapons and defend themselves or us, LT,” MacDonald shot back.

  “As long as they’re a neutral entity that provides shelter and food to the team, that’s a win,” David said, trying to calm both of them down.

  “Colonel, as the leader of Alpha team, I think we have to acknowledge the long-shot possibility of success here,” MacDonald said.

  “We can look into an extraction plan that minimizes contact, Master Chief,” David said.

  “No. We’re here, we’re the sharp tip of the spear, and our best play remains to disable the defense system and get out of here. If you can time it so that the Marines show up, then it’s an outstanding play. I intend to proceed. The lieutenant is right; these people need our help.”

  “Then it’s settled,” David began. “I’ll talk to General MacIntosh, and you keep in contact with us. One way or another, we’ll sort this out and get your team off Freiderwelt. Good luck and Godspeed.”

  “Understood sir. Alpha team is charlie mike.”

  The connection cut out before David could say anything else; he sat back in his chair while Aibek peered at him. “This grows more ominous. Not only can the League seemingly spy on us at will, but they can penetrate our own stealth craft?”

  XO’s right. The League is suddenly showing technical and training competence I’ve never seen out of them in such a concentrated way. It’s making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The negative effect isn’t lost on me, XO. CDF tactics have always emphasized lethality and hiding our platforms to project power from the League. If we lose either one of those advantages, we’re in deep crap.”

  “I believe the Saurian expression would be up the rapid without a canoe.”

  David grinned. “That sounds an awful lot like a human expression about being up the creek without a paddle.”

  “Maybe that is what I was going for instead.”

  “Thanks, XO, I needed some levity,” David commented as he laughed.

  “What’s next, then, sir?”

  “You have the conn. I’m going to go talk to General MacIntosh and see what I can shake out of him in the way of reinforcements for both problems we’re working.”

  “Aye aye, sir. This is the XO. I have the conn,” Aibek said crisply.

  David stood up and walked off the bridge toward his day cabin. This was supposed to be a milk run. Now it’s a life and death struggle for a friend and thousands of lives. We’ll have to find a way to win like we always do.

  David stared at his tablet, finger hovered over MacIntosh’s profile within the vidlink application. I wonder how he’s going to take this; we were supposed to come out here and smash the League with impunity. He glanced at a small picture he kept on his desk of him and Angie Dinman, who had previously been on the Lion as the embedded reporter. Her slender form looked even smaller in the photo, standing next to him. He’d been attired in dress whites, her in a formal dress, her brown hair styled up. He grinned, thinking back to the CDF ball they’d attended together.

  He finally touched the screen and waited for MacIntosh to appear. It only took a couple of minutes for the general’s face to invade the tablet. “Good morning, General.”

  “Good afternoon, Colonel,” MacIntosh replied, taciturn as ever. “I looked over your after-action report. Superb tactics, as I’ve come to expect.”

  “Thank you, sir,” David said. “Did you see my request for reinforcements?”

  “I did. I’ve requested we shake loose another fast warfare action group, but I haven’t heard back. For now, it still falls on the Lion and what’s left of Colonel Dyson’s force.”

  “We’ll do our best, sir. I would be remiss in my duties if I didn’t tell you I believe without reinforcements, or getting to the bottom of the League’s ability to guess our next position, we’re unlikely to see success.”

  “What do you mean by their ability to guess your position?”

  “I can’t explain it beyond the League commander seemingly puts the right combination of forces on target at the right place, every time. We’re operating off the idea there are some stealth drones out here transmitting data back.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” MacIntosh said as his face scrunched together. “I assume you’re trying to run all possibilities down?”

  “Yes, sir. Doctor Hayworth is on it along with the science team, and I’m going to pull in Colonel Sinclair and the Oxford to help.”

  “Sound ideas,” MacIntosh replied. “I can’t make suggestions on this one, Colonel. Just keep the transports coming. Whatever it takes.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes, sir. I received word from the team that we inserted into Freiderwelt. The stealth lander was shot down by the planetary defense system.”

  “Damnit,” MacIntosh exclaimed. “If it’s not one thing, it’s a hundred others.”

  “Everyone except the pilot survived. The team is currently evading League forces.”

  “There’s a ‘but’ in there, Colonel,” MacIntosh said, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ve known you too long.”

  “The team rescued a civilian from Leaguers. As a consequence, they believe it’s only a matter of time before they’ll be tracked down. I can’t get QRF in to help them, and we don’t have a fleet to knock down the defenses. With my approval, they’re continuing to advance the mission. The only way off that rock is to take down the satellite control center, and then we’ll have a unique opportunity.”

  “No defenses… no reason why we can’t painlessly liberate the planet,” MacIntosh replied.

  “Got it in one, sir.”

  MacIntosh smirked. “Wasn’t born yesterday, Colonel. What you just did is called managing your boss.”

  David felt his face grow warm and turn red. “Just working the situation, sir.”

  “I didn’t say it was a bad thing, son,” MacIntosh stated while stroking his beard. “Our intel suggests less than five thousand hostiles on the planet. My thinking is that if the sats are unavailable to them, the League forces will fold.”

  “I concur, sir, but we’d need a credible invasion fleet.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, Colonel. Hear me on this, though… I won’t authorize the commitment of assets until the defense system is offline. Let me remind you of a previous conversation we’ve had. If you in any way try to get around those orders, I’ll bring my hammer down on you so hard, you’ll still be spinning next week. Clear?”

  “Crystal, sir.”

  “Keep me informed, Colonel. I’ll get back with you shortly with answers.”

  “Aye, sir,” David stated. At least he’s on the same page with me. MacIntosh is a force unto himself once he gets going.

  “Godspeed, Colonel.”

  “Godspeed, sir.”

  The tablet went dark and David sat back in his chair. Time to find Sinclair. He pulled up the intelligence officer’s profile on vidlink, and he was —of course— offline. He pressed the screen on the option for an email and hurriedly typed a message.

  Colonel Sinclair,

  I hate that I only tend to pop up when I need a favor. Still owe you a drink for the crackerjack job you and your team did at Unity Station. The intelligence types don’t get much credit from us ship drivers and trigger pullers, but you saved our rear ends. With a slap on the back out of the way… I’ve got another real hot situation I need your help on. The Lion of Judah has been assigned to help escort convoys to the aforementioned space station now in Terran Coalition hands. Somehow, the League has ex
cellent information as to the makeup and position of our ships. I need your assistance in sorting it out. Got some time for an old friend? Let me know. I’ll have Lieutenant Taylor set up a vidlink if so.

  – Colonel David Cohen

  After reviewing the message once for clarity, David pressed send and powered off his tablet. Back to the bridge I go. Hopefully, he can help.

  11

  It’s a wonder someone hasn’t fragged Colonel Pan before now, Pavlik thought as he trotted up the stairs toward his superior’s office in the main administration building on Freiderwelt. Even this building is over the top… typical League of Sol style. If we spent more time winning the hearts and minds of these people by showing them we genuinely want to help them, this would be a lot easier. Instead, we sit behind barbed wire, point guns at them, and violate basic laws of decency.

  Pavlik knocked on the door to Pan’s office, waited a moment, and walked in.

  Pan glanced up from his desk. “I didn’t indicate you could enter, Major.”

  “Would you like me to step back outside, sir?” Pavlik responded. Any idiot could tell I’m mocking him, but for some reason, he can’t figure it out.

  Pan grimaced. “No, Major. Come in. Have a seat,” he grated out. “I’ve received word of a situation from one of the outlying districts.”

  “A situation, sir?” Pavlik commented as he dropped into one of the chairs positioned in front of the ornate desk.

  “Two soldiers and their vehicle are missing. Last known location of it is out in the farmlands.”

  So what? That happens every other week. “Probably some privates out drunk, sir.”

  “I would tend to agree. Except that the bio-locators in the men in question showed them dying before losing signal.”

  Pavlik perked up immediately and pulled himself to a ramrod-straight position. “That is most unusual, Colonel.”

  “I agree. It would appear resistance activity is breaking out.”

  Where the hell does he get that? “I would caution against jumping to conclusions, sir. It’s most likely the work of a single individual.”

  “There is also the matter of the ship we shot down yesterday,” Pan said.

  “I read the report. Looked like a recon vessel, pilot and crew killed. We’re waiting for the DNA results to see how many were onboard.”

  “Perhaps the Terran Coalition is working with a resistance movement, then.”

  Talk about putting two and two together and coming out with twenty-two. “I see no evidence of that, Colonel. The Terran Coalition hasn’t shown much interest in Freiderwelt outside of occasional reconnaissance flights. Oh, and some leaflet drops saying they haven’t forgotten the inhabitants.”

  “Major, I want you to go out and explain to the Amish that we won’t stand for this collusion with the enemy,” Pan insisted.

  “What would you like me to do exactly, sir?”

  “We’ll go with ten inhabitants for every one League soldier. So kill twenty of them at random. I’d prefer you do it from multiple villages and farms.”

  Pavlik was barely able to hide his disgust. “Colonel, that will do nothing except inflame the situation and cause more attacks on our forces if it’s, in fact, a resistance movement. In the case of a lone wolf, all collective punishment would do is cause needless suffering on people who share our values.”

  “Oh, for the love of Marx, Major! These people don’t share our values; they’re all religious zealots. We ought to send them all to reeducation camps or shoot them. Carry out my orders.”

  “With respect, sir,” Pavlik began, struggling to keep emotion from creeping into his voice. “The political commissar has identified the population of this planet as democratic socialists, just like us. It is forbidden to use collective punishment without proof of a conspiracy.”

  Pan leaned forward, his face twisted in a frown. “Why do you care about these people so much, Major?”

  Because they’re decent folks who don’t deserve to be slaughtered when they present no threat to anyone. “They are citizens of the League, Colonel. I am simply discharging my duty to ensure we treat them properly and protect them from those who would lead them astray of the human family,” Pavlik replied.

  “Hmm. I see your point,” Pan said.

  Propaganda buzzwords work every time on this idiot. “I have a suggestion, sir, if I may?”

  “Of course, Major.”

  “I’ll get the particulars from the lead investigator and look into this matter myself. While I’m at it, I’ll go out to the site of that ship crash and see what clues I can glean.”

  Pan nodded thoughtfully. “Yes…Yes. Put your considerable talents to work on the problem, Major. I’ll have someone cover your duties here for a couple of days. Report back to me as soon as you know what’s going on.”

  Pavlik stood and gave Pan a salute by bringing his fist to his chest. “Yes, sir!”

  “Oh, and, Major… don’t be afraid to use harsh measures. I trust your judgment.”

  “I’ll use whatever measures are required, sir.”

  “Good. Dismissed.”

  Pavlik turned and strode out of the office. I’ll get an excellent field trip out of it at least. Beats sitting around this palace, wishing I was home.

  “Thank you for joining us on such short notice,” David said toward the vidlink screen in the Lion’s main conference room, which displayed an image of both Colonel Robert Sinclair and his lead analyst, First Lieutenant Alon Tamir.

  “Oh, it was hard to pull myself away from the excitement of watching transmissions decrypt, but here we are,” Sinclair replied with more than a trace of mirth. “Good to see you again, Colonel Cohen.”

  Aibek and Taylor were also present, spaced out amongst the chairs around the large wooden table. “What can CDF Intelligence do for the Lion of Judah today?” Sinclair continued.

  “We are matching wits and tactics with a most interesting opponent,” Aibek stated. “A League commander that seemingly knows our moves as we make them.”

  “I’m intrigued. Tell me more,” Sinclair said.

  “To make a long story short, we’re trying to assist Colonel Dyson and DESRON 57 to protect our supply lines out to Uni… Freedom Station. The League is jumping its forces into position with outstanding precision. If we lower the number of ships assigned to a convoy, then it gets hit, even if the timing is mixed up in an attempt to confuse the enemy. Our best guess is the League has some new stealth drones out here keeping tabs on everything,” David explained.

  “They did spring those funky new mines on us six months ago,” Sinclair conceded. “Question, Colonel. Has that League commander been wrong so far in his or her guesses? Have you one-upped them?”

  “The only drop we’ve managed to get so far is we left our fighter contingent behind and jumped in to assist Colonel Dyson. That maneuver worked. They seemingly weren’t expecting us to do that, and we bagged several Rands and their escorts.”

  Sinclair’s face clouded over, and he appeared to be rooted in thought. Tamir spoke instead. “If I may ask, sir, who did you tell about the strategy before executing it?”

  “My senior officers. Why?”

  “Did you communicate it to anyone off the ship, by any method?” Tamir persisted.

  “We did brief Colonel Dyson,” Aibek said.

  “Do you know if he communicated it forward?”

  “I have no idea, Lieutenant,” David replied. “What exactly are you getting at?”

  “What he’s getting at,” Sinclair interrupted, “is this sounds like a HUMINT leak, not SIGINT.”

  Aibek stared blankly at the screen and blinked his eyes. “I am not familiar with those terms.”

  “Human intelligence, provided typically by double agents, intelligence assets… also known as traitors and spies. Signals intelligence, provided by electronic eavesdropping,” David explained.

  “You believe there is a spy at work?” Aibek asked incredulously.

  “Or a traitor,” Sincla
ir said. “All possibilities must be examined.”

  “A very unsettling thought, Colonel,” David stated. Not to mention the last thing we need to deal with right now.

  Aibek shifted in his seat. “What makes you think it’s a spy?”

  “If it were SIGINT-based intel, they would guess every move you made correctly, because they’d see it in real time. The fact that there was a hole suggests someone, somewhere, is providing information to the League. How it’s occurring, or why, is up to us to sort out.”

  “I can’t believe a member of the Coalition Defense Force would provide any aid to the enemy,” David insisted.

  “Intelligence is a nasty business. That’s why I enjoy it,” Sinclair stated, his posh British accent on full display. “I’ll huddle with my team and see if we can figure out a way to sniff out what’s going on here. For now, consider this entire matter classified at Top Secret level, and subject to special compartmentalized information restrictions. There is to be no discussion of the matter outside of this subset of personnel. Are we clear on that, gentlemen?”

  “Understood, Colonel Sinclair. I’ll have our communication records marked TSSCI.”

  “Excellent. We’ll be in contact once the team has some ideas.”

  “Thank you,” David replied.

  “Godspeed, Colonel.”

  “Godspeed,” David replied, motioning for Taylor to cut the vidlink.

  The three of them stared at one another after the screen cut off, looks of dismay circulating the room.

  David was the first to speak. “I don’t like the implications here.”

  “Should we consider lie detectors for the senior staff and communications on the Lion, sir?” Taylor asked.

  Oh, heck no. “Absolutely not, Lieutenant.”

  “But, sir,” Taylor tried to say.

  David cut him off. “There will be no witch hunts on my ship. Period. End of story, don’t ask again.”