Gates of Hell

by Daniel Gibbs

  David smirked. Can’t say I am either. The idea of helping the League by giving up CDF intelligence information was so foreign to him, he couldn’t wrap his brain around the concept. Calvin doesn’t need this right now… he’s a die-hard patriot and seeing someone trample on the flag screws us all up inside, but him especially.

  “Coming up on the Monterrey’s hangar, sir,” the pilot announced.

  “Take us in,” David commanded.

  “Sir,” Calvin began, causing David to look his way, to find him holding out a holster with a standard issue CDF sidearm in it. “You might need this.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, Demood. I told you we’re not treating this as a VBSS.”

  “No, sir. This individual may get violent, and we need the means to defend ourselves. They’re loaded with stun rounds, sir. No need to worry about killing one of our own accidentally.”

  David sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. The day I need to arm myself before visiting another ship of the CDF is a day I don’t want to see. He opened his eyes and reached for the holster. “I don’t like it, but you’re right. As much as I hate to admit it..”

  Calvin nodded and passed another holster over to Taylor. “For you, Lieutenant.”

  “Thank you, Colonel,” Taylor said. “I’ve also got my martial arts training.”

  “Yeah, I don’t need that fancy Marine fu. A nice solid metal sidearm is my weapon of choice… or a pugil stick,” Calvin snarked back.

  “I’m skilled in several types of martial arts,” Taylor replied. “All subsets of Takenouchi-ryū.”

  “Whatever that is.”

  “You two need to get a room,” David interjected, drawing laughter from the pilot, and causing both Calvin and Taylor to stop and look at him. “Let’s focus on the task at hand, gentlemen.”

  “Yes, sir,” Calvin said.

  “Aye aye, sir,” Taylor commented.

  Outside of the cockpit, the hangar bay of the Monterrey came into focus before them; small and cramped, there was barely room for their shuttle with the other craft inside. A few moments later, they sat down with a minimum of turbulence. “We’re down, sir. Would you like me to open the rear ramp?”

  “Yes,” David replied. “Stay here with the shuttle, Warrant. We shall return.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  David sprang out of his seat, followed closely by Calvin and Taylor. He entered the aft cargo area to find the Marine that Calvin had insisted on bringing, along with several enlisted communications personnel.

  “Everyone ready for this?” David asked the lot of them.

  “Sir, yes, sir!” the enlisted personnel belted out.

  “Okay, look alive,” David replied and turned on his heel, walking down the ramp and into the shuttle bay to find an honor guard of soldiers from the Monterrey arrayed in front of them. “Permission to come aboard?” he said toward a squat man wearing the insignia of a major, who he assumed was Drymand. His hair was black and appeared to have gel in it, judging from how it was slicked back.

  “Permission granted, Colonel Cohen,” the man stated in a clear voice. “I’m Major Drymand, commanding officer of the CSV Monterrey. A pleasure to welcome you and your shipmates to our humble raider. Allow me to apologize for the lack of a bosun’s mate with the pipes… our deck force is working a power outage on B deck.”

  “No problem at all, Major,” David said. “I’m afraid we’re not here for a social call.”

  “I understand you want to question someone in our communications department?” Drymand asked.

  “You understand correctly, Major. The CSV Oxford and her analysis team, working in conjunction with Lieutenant Taylor,” David began, gesturing toward the Taylor as he did, “have concluded the recent intelligence leaks they’ve been investigating appear to be coming from your ship. As the ranking officer in this sector, I’m here to ensure your cooperation. We must get to the bottom of this situation quickly.”

  Drymand’s face went white, draining of color in what seemed like a matter of milliseconds. “I’m sure there’s a mix-up of some kind, Colonel.” Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead like an act of God.

  “Doesn’t appear to be the case, Major,” David quickly answered, noting the man’s discomfort. “I understand this is difficult to process, but we need to get moving. My people are going to go through your comms logs line by line and trace down our mole.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes,” David said, beginning to grow annoyed. “We’re in the middle of a crisis and supplies need to get to Unity Station. No time like the present.”

  “I see,” Drymand stammered. “Take them!” he yelled suddenly, raising his voice.

  David froze, not fully comprehending what was going on. Time itself seemed to slow, as each of the officers from the Monterrey drew sidearms. What the hell? Since when do CDF officers draw weapons on one another? It took Calvin colliding with him and throwing him behind cover for it to finally compute mentally that shots were ringing out across the shuttle bay.

  “Son of a–!” Calvin exclaimed as bullets pinged off to the side of the shuttles, making metallic ricochet sounds. “Maybe they’re all traitors!”

  “There’s got to be a rational explanation for this, Demood,” David insisted, his sidearm entirely in his hand now. “Let me try talking to them,” he continued. “Major! Major Drymand, cease fire! That is a direct order!”

  “We won’t let you take us alive,” Drymand shouted back. “The repression of the Terran Coalition must be stopped!”

  David glanced at Calvin. “Okay, maybe you’re right. Twice in one day isn’t bad for a Marine. Options?”

  Calvin snickered and slapped David on the shoulder. “Hey, what can I say. On a more serious note, I’m guessing they’ve got the rest of our team pinned down. You lay down some covering fire, I’ll see if I can’t pick one of theirs off and get a mark one eyeball on the others.”

  “On three,” David replied. “One…two…three!” he said, sticking his hand out and squeezing the trigger repeatedly. After a few rounds, he leaned out and continued to fire, allowing Calvin to scurry out as the incoming rounds slackened.

  The tough Marine raced between the two shuttles in the bay, bullets pinging off the sides of the small craft. The hangar was tiny compared to even the VIP hangar on the Lion, but it was still large enough to make it difficult to hit a moving target. As he ran, he fired his sidearm toward the locations the shots were coming from.

  Taylor leaned out and opened fire, along with the Marine private who’d joined them in the shuttle. The barrage felled one of the officers shooting at them, causing his body to drop, twitching and writhing in pain from the electrical stun round.

  No commlinks… poor selection of equipment for a shoot-out. David furrowed his brow. Traitors in the CDF? I still can’t believe this. There’s got to be a rational explanation. Incoming shots raced by his position, showering him in sparks and the odd metal splinters that stung due to the heat they radiated. They’re using lethal rounds.

  Calvin’s deep voice echoed across the bay as he shouted. “Now!”

  Though outside of David’s field of view, the incoming fire immediately slackened, and more shots rang out. Taking advantage, he leaned out to see the two officers that had been aiming at him now firing in the opposite direction. Catching the enemy with their backs turned, he squeezed the trigger of his sidearm repeatedly, successfully dropping both men. “Two tangos down!” As he walked forward slowly, gun at the ready, another figure jumped out from behind a shuttle—Major Drymand.

  Drymand’s hands latched on to David’s sidearm like a drowning man grabbing for a life preserver. The weapon discharged as he wrenched it away, both men losing control of the gun as it clattered to the floor.

  David retreated to his rudimentary hand-to-hand combat training, throwing a couple of quick jabs toward Drymand’s head. He avoided them and in turn threw a punch directly into David’s gut, which caused him to stumble backward. The d
in of gunfire, grunts, and screams of battle died away as the battle in front of him drowned out everything else.

  With the practiced stance of a longtime martial artist, Drymand settled in and launched a series of strikes with his hands that left David reeling, finishing it off with a sweeping kick. As he collapsed to the floor, Drymand fumbled for a sidearm that lay on the deck.

  Is that mine, or another one with real bullets? With no time to think, David launched himself off the deck as best as he could and tried to punch the man in the face. Drymand parried him with ease, delivering another harsh kick to the gut. He raised the sidearm and aimed squarely at David.

  “I’m sorry, Colonel, but this is how it has to end.” Then he squeezed the trigger.

  David’s mind sent a message to his body to move as Drymand spoke, but he was far too slow. The first bullet struck him, sending waves of pain through his body, quickly followed by another. As he stepped forward to deliver the finishing blow, a series of shots registered, and Drymand collapsed, twitching and trying in vain to move his hands.

  Calvin appeared at David’s side, clearly accessing the situation. “Colonel, can you hear me?”

  “Yeah…” David replied, his voice faint and weak.

  “Okay, I’ve got a clean entry and exit wound in your shoulder. Entry in your stomach area. No exit.”

  It took a few minutes through the pain and shock to register with David that the sounds of battle had ceased.

  “Medkit! Get a medkit over here!” Calvin yelled.

  David found it difficult to measure time as he focused on breathing. “I think I’m getting too old for this, Demood.” He felt the sting of an auto-syringe, followed by a marked decrease in pain.

  “You should feel better now.”

  “Much,” David said as he cracked a grin.

  “I injected you with some medication to counteract internal bleeding, but we’ve got to get you back to the Lion for treatment.”

  David shook his head. “Secure this ship first. That’s an order, Colonel.”

  “Sir—”

  As if to underscore his point, the vibration of engines became apparent through the deck plating. “They’ll try to jump out. Get to the bridge, stop them by any means necessary, including lethal force.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Taylor trotted over, his sidearm at the ready. “You okay, sir?”

  “I’ll live, Lieutenant. Get going with Demood. Take the private with you too. I’ll cover the shuttle bay so they can’t double back and escape.”

  Calvin’s face betrayed his lack of enthusiasm for leaving David behind. “At least let me leave the comm geek behind, sir.”

  “Negative. Now get going.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  As the trio took off through the hatch that led to the main deck of the small ship, David found himself hoping they’d accomplish the objective quickly, as one thing was certain: he needed further medical treatment.

  “Conn, TAO. Aspect change, Sierra One. Lawrence drive power up, sir!” Kelsey announced from her station.

  Aibek leaned forward, his head scales turning a deep red hue. “Communications, order the Monterrey to cease maneuvering immediately.” He punched the button for 1MC on the CO’s chair. “Attention, all hands, this is Colonel Aibek. General quarters, general quarters! All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill. Set condition one throughout the ship.”

  “No response, sir,” Bell replied.

  “Condition one is set throughout the ship, sir,” Kelsey said as the bridge lights dimmed to the deep blue hue that Aibek had grown accustomed to.

  “TAO, re-designate Sierra One to Master One.”

  “Uh, you sure about that, sir?” Hanson interjected. “The Monterrey is a CDF ship.”

  “With Colonel Cohen aboard, along with a suspected traitor.”

  The words “suspected traitor” caused a hush to descend across the bridge of the Lion of Judah. Enlisted crewmembers stared at one another in shock, while even Master Chief Tinetariro looked unsettled.

  “Conn, TAO. Sierra One is now designated Master One.”

  “Communications, open a channel to the Monterrey.”

  “You’re on, sir.”

  “CSV Monterrey, this is Colonel Aibek in command of the CSV Lion of Judah. Power down your engines immediately, or we will be forced to fire on you.”

  Kelsey and Hammond exchanged sidelong glances as palpable unease swept the room.

  “No response, sir.”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, Master One. Target her aft hull and engine bracings with the neutron beam emitters. Disabling shots only.”

  “Firing solutions set, sir,” Kelsey answered, her voice off-key and filled with anxiety.

  “Sir… are you sure about this?” Hanson asked, his voice quiet.

  “Do you have a better idea, Major?” Aibek replied.

  “No, sir.”

  “Then, this is the only course of action I can think of to preserve the status quo and allow us to ascertain what is transpiring on that ship. TAO, match bearings, shoot, neutron beams.”

  Bright blue beams of energy swatted out at the small raider; its size next to the Lion of Judah was comparable to an insect beside an elephant. Burning through the shields of the vessel in seconds, the directed energy weapon neatly sliced off the engine housings aft of the reactor on the Monterrey.

  Ah, just as good a job as I would expect from Lieutenant Goldberg. Perhaps there is something to this human obsession with regimented training. “Communications, demand their surrender again.”

  “Conn, TAO. Master One disabled, sir. She’s drifting and leaking atmosphere.”

  “We should send a VBSS team, sir,” Hanson said quietly.

  “VBSS? Oh yes. Human acronyms,” Aibek replied with the Saurian version of a smirk. “Get the commando teams suited up and on the way, along with whatever ready Marine elements Colonel Demood has available.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “This is mighty weird, Colonel,” Taylor said as he switched stances from backward to forward facing. The group was advancing down the central passageway on the Monterrey with Calvin in the lead.

  “There are over a hundred soldiers on one of these tubs. We haven’t seen a soul.”

  “My point exactly.”

  As they reached the entrance to the bridge, it too was deserted. A rumble nearly threw them do the deck. It was accompanied by alarms shrieking and the sound of groaning alloy.

  “Somebody’s shooting at us,” Taylor observed.

  “Thank you, Captain Obvious. You’ve been promoted.”

  The Marine with them snickered, as did Taylor. “Suppose I walked into that one, sir. We need to get into the bridge. Got any explosives on you?”

  “No… I wasn’t prepared for a commando mission. Maybe I’ve got something better, though,” Calvin stepped up and began to enter a long sequence into the security scanner to the side of the door. “My O-5 level security access codes.” After he finished, there was a loud beep, and the pad flashed red. “Stupid technology.”

  “You’re not on the access list for this ship, sir.”

  “I outrank everyone assigned to it, Lieutenant.”

  “Which doesn’t mean you have a need to access it,” Taylor said with something of a grin. “Let me take a crack.”

  “Be my guest.”

  Taylor took a step forward and examined the device as Calvin fell back. He fiddled with it as more impacts wracked the vessel. The pad sparked several times after he pried the cover off. “Okay, I think this will open it up.”

  “You think?” Calvin asked dryly.

  “Well, I am just a comms geek.”

  “Private, sidearm up,” Calvin said as he raised his pistol and aimed at the center of the door. “Let’s do this, Taylor.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  A moment later, Taylor touched the last contact with his small multitool. The locks disengaged and the bridge doors slid open to reveal the cra
mped control center of the Monterrey. There were only three people on it; they all made moves to grab sidearms strapped to their hips.

  “Touch those, and I will shoot you down. Pro-tip… I’ve got live rounds in here, not that sissy stun crap.”

  Slowly, all three raised their hands into the air. One spoke up. “We surrender… your ship already disabled us anyway.”

  Calvin broke into a smug grin. “Of course it did. If you thought you’d get away with this, you’re crazy. Private! Secure these prisoners. Taylor, get the Lion on the horn. I want a company of Marines over here and a causality evac shuttle ASAP.”

  “Coming right up, sir!” Taylor replied, his voice confident and the tension gone.

  “Now, where are all the soldiers on this ship?”

  “Major Drymand ordered them to their quarters. Then we locked them in,” the same man replied toward Calvin. “They weren’t harmed.”

  “Doesn’t matter at this point, Lieutenant,” Calvin replied. “Your CO shot Colonel Cohen and tried to kill all of us. You’re all traitors, and I’ll see justice is served.” Preferably with the entire lot of you lined up and shot for treason.

  Taylor interrupted him. “Sir, Lion of Judah reports VBSS teams already in route, along with medical support.”

  “Excellent. You got it covered here?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going down to check on Cohen. They move, shoot ‘em.”

  20

  Tural glanced up, hearing a commotion in the passageway outside of the medical bay. “I believe our patient is arriving. Doctor Bhatt, are you ready?”

  “Yes, Doctor.”

  The doors swished open, retracting to allow the anti-grav stretcher carrying David through. He was surrounded by medical personnel, while Calvin took up the rear. “Hang on, Colonel. We’re here. Doc’s got you now.”

  “Patient is a Caucasian male, age thirty-eight. Type B+ blood, pull three units, and activate the mass transfusion protocol!” Tural barked as he quickly flipped through the medical scanner results from the integrated system on the stretcher. “Transfer to bed six!”