by Jan Domagala
“Okay guys, let’s see what you’ve got,” Hawk said with a smile, his deep bass voice booming in the confines of the room.
“Don’t be too confident, Matt,” said the leader of the trio who was in the centre facing him. Just then the two men flanking him rushed at Hawk who stepped forward, his arms open wide, and slammed both his log-like arms across the chests of the two attacking Marines in a manoeuvre called a clothesline, popular with pro wrestlers. The two Marines hit his arms and stopped dead but their feet carried on travelling at speed sending them spinning in the air to land flat on their backs.
“Oh, I’m not,” Hawk said, his smile still in place. Kicking the last Marine in the stomach with his right foot sending him staggering backwards, Hawk followed and hit him across the back of his neck which sent him crashing to the floor.
The tingle he felt in his NI told him a call was coming through.
“Hawk here, go ahead,” he said, instinctively knowing that it was a secure channel being accessed.
“Captain Hawk I have an urgent mission for you, I’ll brief you in my office in ten minutes. Don’t be late Captain, drop whatever you’re doing now and get here,” Gemmell said.
“Already have, sir, I’m on my way,” Hawk replied.
“Thanks guys, we must do this again soon,” he said with a smile as he left the chamber.
He went straight to Gemmell’s office not bothering to get changed out of his training clothes and into something more appropriate. The call had said immediately and that’s exactly what Gemmell meant. He knew better than to be late.
He walked into the office to see Gemmell seated behind his desk.
“Thanks for your prompt arrival Captain, believe me on this one time is of the essence,” Gemmell said as Hawk approached the desk.
“What’s up, sir?” Hawk asked as he sat on the chair in front of the desk.
“Are you aware of the project that took place on Outpost Station Five, the one involving Captain Stryder?”
“To an extent. I know that it was a failure and that Captain Stryder is on extended leave to recuperate.”
“Well, the Alliance had other ideas. They’re of the opinion that it was a success and have captured Stryder on Celeron. They did it by accessing the secure codes for the tracker integral to the NI. The fact that they’ve nabbed Stryder is bad enough, but the fact they now have the ability to access the codes means they can pinpoint any of the Recon Delta Marines either covert or not. It places our forces at a distinct disadvantage.”
“What is it you want me to do, sir?” Hawk asked.
“It’ll be a few days before we can implement the new codes which means all our operatives are in danger, including yourself and all the command staff. The only good news is that the Alliance will be too preoccupied with Stryder to implement any attacks. You, my boy, have the unenviable task of finding the mole in HQ. The only way they could’ve got their hands on those codes was from someone with Gold Access, that’s someone in this building. I want you to locate whoever it was without their knowledge. We want them so that we can identify the person they passed it on to. General Sinclair wants to sweat the contact to find out where they’re holding Stryder so that we can mount an operation to rescue him before he’s told them too much.”
“No pressure then, sir,” Hawk said with a smile.
“Yea, I realise it’s short notice and you’ll have to work fast and quiet over this one, but it’s come down from General Sinclair personally. He’s requested my best man on it and here you are. There’s a lot at stake here, Matt. I know you realise that and you’ll do your best so I’ll let you get on with it. Keep me informed. You have whatever you need to fulfil this mission, full authority on my command,” Gemmell said his expression stern.
“Thank you, sir, I may need it,” Hawk said, and getting to his feet turned to leave the office.
At the door Gemmell said, “Good luck Matt. Oh and no mess ups okay?”
Hawk turned back to face him and said, “As always, sir.”
Walking away from Gemmell’s office Hawk’s mind was already on the problem. Whoever had gained access to the codes must have had Gold clearance, which meant that it was one of General Sinclair’s staff. In a way that was advantageous in that it was a finite number and he would not have to consider the thousands of personnel who worked at HQ in total. Sinclair’s staff numbered only a fraction of the total but he had to come up with a way to narrow the parameters of the search.
By the time he reached his office the germ of an idea had begun to form in his mind.
* * * * *
Norsky showed Hardy to her new quarters away from the main area of the complex. The silence between them was like a wall she had constructed as protection. She was a prisoner, that fact she was well aware of, but one thing puzzled her. During her capture Norsky had acted professionally, he had been courteous with just the right amount of steel to reinforce his control. Since they had arrived and Kurt had been handed over though, his attitude had altered slightly. It was almost as if his mission was over and he could relax. The way he looked at her and spoke to her gave her the impression that he treated this almost as if it was a date.
She knew he was attracted to her and she thought perhaps she could use that to her advantage.
“Here you are my dear, your new home for the next few days at least,” he said at the door.
“And what then?” she asked, turning to look at him, trying to gauge him.
“That is out of my hands, but it won’t be long before they have what they want from your Captain Stryder. Once that is completed then the balance of power will be reinstated. It may even have shifted into our favour.”
“Do I hear the rattle of sabres in your words?”
“On the contrary Miss Hardy, just because I am a soldier willing to fight and, if necessary, die for his side, do not think I am an advocate for war. I pray for peace but I am unafraid to fight if war is declared.”
“Nice words but I’ve seen little to back them up.”
“What happens to your friend is inevitable, he went into the situation with his eyes wide open and if I’m not mistaken, he volunteered. The idea was to gain an advantage over the Alliance, isn’t that, as you say, rattling of sabres? What we have done is merely an act of self defence, an attempt to restore the status quo.”
“That’s as may be, but if you seek to gain an advantage out of this, isn’t that war mongering?”
“We could go around and around with this with no one gaining a clear advantage. One thing I am certain of is this; on either side are individuals who would seek any sort of advantage over the other to use as a weapon. Some would use that weapon to its full potential and an equal number would use that weapon as a deterrent. I pray it’s the latter that wins any argument. You and I are soldiers and so are not privy to such arguments; we only have to act on their outcome.
“In the meantime, there is no reason for us to act like savages. I will treat you in a civilised fashion and even though I know you must try to escape, your quarters will be comfortable.”
“And what about you? You’ve completed your mission. I suppose you’ll be moving to your next mission, so why do you care if my quarters are comfortable or not?”
“Actually I have some leave owed to me so I can go wherever I please. To answer your other question, I suppose I’m eager to dispel the propaganda that surrounds the Alliance. We are no different from you; we have the same likes, dislikes, the same needs and fears. Borders are what separates us at this moment in time. We are all one race and despite colour, creed or spiritual belief, we are all human. We are not so unalike, you and I.”
“If you truly believe that about us irrespective of merely being soldiers, why are you so concerned about this soldier?” she asked, her eyes boring into his until he looked away.
“Perhaps in the hope that one day the fighting will cease. Perhaps that end begins with one soldier laying down his arms,” he said, looking at her again.
&n
bsp; “Very prophetic, have you ever thought of resigning from the military and running for office? You’d have my vote,” she said sarcastically.
Norsky glanced at the floor then placed his palm against the door lock so that the palm reader could identify him. The door opened with a soft whoosh.
“Your quarters may be comfortable but make no mistake, Miss Hardy, due to the nature of our profession it is still a cell.”
As she slowly brushed past him, she looked into his eyes and said, “If I promise to behave, will you stop by to keep me company?” and then she was inside the room facing him with a smile on her face that hinted at the possible delights to follow, if he was brave enough to face the challenge.
He reached for the door lock but before engaging it said, “I am on leave, so I can spend it wherever I please.” Placing his hand on the lock he looked at her and smiled. He said, “If I kept you company, would I want you to behave though?” and the door slid shut.
Hardy watched as the door closed separating her from him and she felt an odd mix of emotions. Norsky was her gaoler, of that there was no doubt, a very charming one but a gaoler nonetheless. He was passionate about what he was doing, of that there was also no doubt. She knew he was attracted to her but would that attraction outweigh his sense of duty? Would she be able to persuade him to swop sides purely on the basis of that attraction? She had her doubts.
If that attraction failed then she would have to resort to more tried and tested methods.
* * * * *
Matt Hawk sat at his desk staring at a computer monitor. For the past few hours he had been perusing the personnel records of all General Sinclair’s staff, the only people with Gold clearance and therefore access to the stolen codes.
As he expected, each and everyone was beyond reproach as prerequisite for the position they held. Although they were civilian personnel, they were employed by a military body and therefore subject to military laws, rules and regulations, a fact they were made aware of right from the start.
One of them was at fault here though, he just had to delve deeper which was tricky because he had to keep his interest under wraps. If the person responsible found out someone had been going through their records they would do one of two things: either bring it to the attention of their superior or inform their contact, the real target of this investigation. If that were to happen the odds of capturing them would go from slim to none.
There was nothing at all against any of them. He had nothing to go on. His eyes felt like he’d walked through a desert sandstorm from all the hours staring at the monitor and he was about to close it down to pursue another avenue of investigation, when he noticed a comment placed on one of the files.
Zooming in on it he rechecked the file in question. The comment had been almost a throwaway. A “something and nothing” event, but because of the nature of the work they undertook and the security involved, the shift supervisors were under orders to note any changes in behaviour, habits, work patterns in fact anything. It did not matter how slight or seemingly inconsequential. It was up to someone else to work out the significance.
The person in question had been flexible where breaks were concerned, always fitting her lunch breaks around the workload. The comment was about her leaving work after hearing some bad news regarding a relative.
Quickly he checked call logs to her and saw no mention of such a call, neither was there any follow-up action.
That was it; it had to be. There was no one else who even came close to looking like a suspect.
After closing down his terminal he quickly went to his bathroom, threw off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He let the hot water spray ease out the few aches and pains he felt from being stuck at his desk for so long, while his mind worked through the problem that lay ahead.
He stepped out of the shower and the water automatically switched off, and then he entered the drying chamber. By the time he was dry and getting dressed, he knew what he had to do.
* * * * *
Stryder opened his eyes and found himself in a small room. There was no window and only one door. He was lying on a simple bunk positioned by the wall to the right of the door.
Swinging his legs around and onto the floor he sat up. Taking stock of his position he quickly inspected himself. Not so amazingly, he could find nothing wrong. No injuries at all, so whatever they had done to him, they certainly hadn’t tortured him?
There were no puncture marks on his arm, not surprisingly because they would have healed instantly anyway. If they had taken blood samples then there was no way of him knowing, unless he could get someone to talk.
Despite the position he found himself in, how hopeless the situation seemed not knowing what the Alliance had done to him or taken from him, he couldn’t help but feel elated. Not just elated though, he felt good, never better in fact. He felt as strong as a bull elephant; his mind was sharp and focused so whatever they had done to him might have helped him in some way.
He had a clear and precise control over his senses and bodily functions. Not knowing how it had come about he was just aware that it had. He also felt something different about his mind, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was definitely something new going on in his head.
If all those changes had occurred during their tampering, how had his already enhanced immune system been affected? He could tell that it had not been diminished and if anything it had been improved even further.
Just what he was capable of now frightened, yet excited, him a little. A wonderful feeling of euphoria had come over him and he felt he had, despite all the odds stacked against him, a better than even chance of escaping. He had absolutely no idea how he would do it, he just knew he would. It was almost like he’d already seen it in the future and all that he had to do to allow it to happen, was not deviate from that path.
But before he could do anything he had to locate Hardy and without thinking an image of her popped into his mind and he knew instantly where she was.
Using his NI he contacted her through a secure channel.
“Hardy, are you alright? If you can’t speak, clear your throat once,” he said softly. Although he had accessed a combat channel that would piggyback the signal onto local frequencies, it would still be encrypted and transmitted directly to the communication centre of her brain, so that even if she were in a crowded room the call would not be overheard. It would only gain anyone else’s attention should she reply audibly.
“I’m fine Kurt. Where are you? Are you alright? What have they done to you?” she said, concern filling her voice.
“I’ve no idea where I am, all I know is, it’s a small cell with only one door and no window. I don’t know what they’ve done, but whatever it was I feel great. Listen, we have to get out and back to Confederation space,” he said, his tone upbeat and ebullient.
“And how do you propose to do that, Kurt? We’re deep in Alliance space in a guarded facility populated by Alliance troops. Oh and we have no transport,” she said, her voice rising a little with tension.
“I’m working on it, but first things first; we need to get out of this facility,” he replied.
“Oh, when you say it like that, it doesn’t sound so bad,” she said her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“See, I told you I’d rub off on you. Just hold on and I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy,” he said calmly.
* * * * *
After getting dressed Hawk checked on the whereabouts of Joanne Watkiss, his suspect, who was still at home after being allowed to leave early the day before.
A sudden feeling of dread filled him. He knew how ops like this worked and he didn’t think for one second that this data Joanne Watkiss had passed over was the first titbit. Her contact had probably started off with something small and worked up to this, the big score. Now that they had what they wanted from her they would probably close the op down, and to do that they would have to sever all connections and tie off any loose ends.
&nb
sp; This meant that the moment she had passed over the codes was the moment she had signed her death warrant. They would wait for confirmation that the codes were useful before taking action. Once the confirmation came through then she was as good as dead.
His time might have just run out, he had to get to her and fast.
* * * * *
Pavel Temic had gathered all his things together in preparation to leave Earth. This had been his longest assignment and he had even leased a place of his own to use as an operations base. It was a small, yet plush apartment in the heart of New York. The allowance he was granted from the Alliance black ops fund paid for it, so he could maintain his cover as a playboy businessman. He made sure any meetings he attended were never anywhere near to where he lived, they were always in hotels far away.
Once he’d taken care of one last piece of business he was free to leave; that one piece was the last loose end he had to tie off. Nothing must be traced back to him; that loose end was the mole, Joanne Watkiss.
Having pre-booked a flight from Earth and put his bags in the ground car he’d leased, all he had to do was make a stop at her apartment to finish off, then straight on to the spaceport to catch his flight. It should be simple really; however these things rarely were. There were too many variables to contend with that could halt any carefully made plan. He’d thought it through as carefully as he could, given the time constraints he was working under.
He’d been ordered to return to HQ for debriefing once confirmation of Stryder’s capture had come through. Events had unfolded at breakneck speed since he’d acquired and passed on the codes from the mole. Within twelve hours it was all over and he had to leave before any Col Sec investigation could be launched and eventually point in his direction.
Working feverishly, he’d severed all contacts, tied off all loose ends except one, the mole. He’d kept track of her, his most valuable asset, and knew pressure was getting to her. He had already decided to terminate her anyway so that she could not lead them to him, but now the order had been made official.
