The Col Sec Chronicles Box Set

by Jan Domagala

  When he was informed the news channels were ready for him he began by introducing himself and saying that what he was about to tell them was his eyewitness report of an incident that happened earlier and he would not be taking questions. They would get their chance to ask whatever questions they wished at the official press conference at a later date.

  He kept the details concise telling them how the explosion today was a direct result of the investigation into the attack on Confederation Headquarters on Earth over three weeks ago. He told how the attack was perpetrated by a criminal organisation called OMEGA, which was run by Jonas Wilde one of the chief officers of MaxCorp. He then went on to say that Wilde had sequestered funds from MaxCorp to finance his schemes and when they went to question him about it he killed Maxwell Eisenhower and somehow set off a previously primed explosive charge, unfortunately dying in the blast too. He told them the Constabulary would carry out a full investigation assisted by Col Sec.

  Finally he told them of the sorrow he felt for the families of those who had died, adding that the memorial service for those lost during the attack on Confederation Headquarters would take place at the site of the attack at ten am two weeks from Sunday next. Thanking everyone for their time he ended the call.

  That statement would air live on the GalaxyWeb and he hoped finally that they had dealt a lethal blow to OMEGA. Sitting down in Townsend’s chair he contemplated what he’d done. With the news of Eisenhower’s death Wilde couldn’t replace him with a clone, robbing him of the greatest resource he had, the bottomless pit of finance he’d enjoyed from his involvement with MaxCorp. Also, his announcement that Wilde was dead too meant he couldn’t appear in public anywhere.

  In one swift, bold move Sinclair had deprived Wilde of his funding and severely limited his ability to travel. All in all, considering their previous losses, he could rate this one a massive win.

  By the time the Legend had made the jump back to Earth the news of the event and its massive ramifications were common knowledge throughout the known galaxy, not only throughout the Confederation but also the Alliance and the few non-aligned worlds. Wherever the GalaxyWeb reached, so did Sinclair’s statement.

  For the first time since learning of OMEGA he felt they had them on the run.

  President Takagi was pleased with the outcome and the steps Sinclair had taken to help rebuild Col Sec. The addition of RandCorp was a pleasing and welcome bonus and the assets they could provide were both plentiful and gratefully received. The President told Sinclair to take some time off as he’d earned it, to which he replied that he would organise leave for all those involved once the memorial service was over. The service would give them what they all needed, time to grieve, and would also provide something else that would help them draw a line under the entire event, and that was closure.

  EPILOGUE

  The day of the memorial service arrived, along with a low-pressure weather front that pushed along layer upon layer of moisture-laden dark clouds that added to the sombre mood.

  A huge, three metre fence had been erected around the site where only a few short weeks ago had stood a proud building, a symbol of everything the Confederation stood for, which was cut down in that savage attack by OMEGA.

  OMEGA, a name everyone had grown to know and despise since Sinclair outed them on the GalaxyWeb, could no longer hide in the shadows as they had been thrust headlong into the public awareness.

  This day was not about them though, not about the cowards who attacked innocents but rather the victims of that attack and remembering them from better days.

  A podium had been set up in front of the fence close to where the entrance to the huge building once had been and it would be from there that the various speakers would deliver their eulogies.

  Thousands of mourners flocked to the site and by nine thirty am the entire area was just one massive, heaving crowd from all walks of life, come together with one purpose, to say farewell and give respect to their loved ones.

  General Sinclair, Matt Hawk and Colonel De Boer all arrived in full dress uniform. President Takagi, resplendent in a black suit took to the podium to deliver a short speech. The weather, which had taken a turn for the worst with slanting rain drenching the crowds, wasn’t even a consideration; they would have attended no matter what.

  He spoke of that day being one of remembrance for those lost and a day that would live in infamy, as one such day over five centuries ago was remembered when the people came together to unite against a common enemy.

  With no more political posturing he surrendered the podium to a succession of religious leaders who in turn would lead services for members of their denomination.

  The services would go on for almost half the day as everyone’s beliefs were catered for. As it was drawing to a close Sinclair looked at Hawk who had been silent throughout the entire proceedings, a dark expression firmly in place.

  “Are you okay, Matt?” he asked as the three of them sheltered beneath a huge umbrella from the pouring rain.

  Matt glanced at the General and said, “I just can’t get it out of my mind, sir, how Tanya was killed.”

  “Then I would say that the message was not only delivered but understood,” Sinclair replied.

  “How so, sir?”

  “Well, you said it was a message for both of you; to Tanya that she couldn’t go against her father and to you, how did you put it, ‘look at the lengths I will go to deliver this message’? How are you supposed to fight someone with these sort of resources and this kind of resolve and the moment you made that connection, the message truly had been delivered?”

  Understanding came into Hawk’s eyes then as he said, “The purpose of terrorism is to terrorise.”

  “That’s right and as soon as that thought, that doubt takes root in your mind, they’ve scored their first victory. You change the way you approach the fight, you change things you normally wouldn’t change, you’re put off your stride, another small victory and so it goes on.”

  “Yes, I see, sir,” Hawk said his face relaxing a little as some of the tension left him.

  “What we have to do is continue as normally as we can, take the fight to them. You thought about their resources, well I’ve stripped them of those. We have them on the defensive for the first time since this conflict began and we’ll continue to do so until we win.”

  “Look at that, it’s stopped raining,” De Boer said as he tilted the umbrella back so they could see.

  The service was over and the crowds had begun to disperse. In the distance Matt thought he saw a face he recognised, a face from not so long ago, someone he had helped and called friend. The hair was a little longer, a goatee added, but as it was only a fleeting glimpse he couldn’t be sure and he soon forgot about it.

  His thoughts returned to the present and what Sinclair had just said. Sinclair was right, now was the time to rebuild.

  The fight would go on.

  FIN.

  Discovery

  Discovery

  A Col Sec Thriller

  Book Three

  By

  Jan Domagala

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this book to my Dad who sadly is no longer with us.

  Hope you like it Dad.

  I would also like to dedicate it to my two kids, Jason and Tracy. As ever I’d like to thank them for their support without which I doubt I could be where I am today. Thanks to both of you, as always, love you both.

  I would also like to thank by big sis, Stef, and my girlfriend, Joy for their invaluable help and support, thanks to Joy not only in supplying ideas for the story but character development too, couldn’t have done it without you two, love to both of you. Thanks of course must go to my nephew Matthew whose help with the editing and acting as a sounding board was invaluable, thanks dude, I’m just sorry you’re not around to see the finished book.

  I would like to thank all those writers who inspired me to follow in their footsteps; Jack Higgins, Matthew Rei
lly, James Rollins to name but a few. Hope I don’t let you down guys.

  FOREWORD.

  By the mid twenty fifth century after decades of war over the colonization of planets between the Colonial Confederation and the Elysium Alliance, an alternative to the government of Earth, an uneasy peace was reached and a cold war prevailed.

  The events of this story take place a few weeks after those depicted in Ronin and at the end of Omega.

  PROLOGUE.

  Kurt Stryder stood in the rain listening to the service. Lost in the huge throng attending and wrapped up inside a large coat to shield him from the weather, he was certain no one would recognize him anyway. His was not the face of someone famous; rather it was of someone quite ordinary which had served him particularly well in his previous profession. Good bone structure gave his face a somewhat angular appearance, appealing to women as were his cobalt blue eyes. His blonde hair was longer than when he had been in Recon Delta and bleached from the sun of Celeron where he now resided in the family home he’d inherited after the death of his parents. In an effort to alter his appearance he’d grown his hair and even sported a goatee, just enough he thought, to pass any cursory inspection by security staff.

  When he heard of the attack on Confederation Headquarters by the terrorist group OMEGA, he was horrified. His first thoughts were for those who lost their lives in the attack and he wondered how Col Sec would ever come back from such a disaster. As always, General Sinclair would bounce back and reorganise it so they could regroup and continue their work. Col Sec needed people like the General, what they didn’t need, in Kurt’s opinion, was more people like himself. Thanks to an experiment he was the subject of a few months ago, Kurt had been altered at the genetic level. His immune system had been boosted so that his regenerative capabilities were improved. Simple injuries healed almost immediately whilst life threatening trauma took a little longer. Up to the present time, he was not prone to illness in any form and he thought he was probably immune to toxins as well. He was certain he was almost indestructible but he had no desire to test that theory. Even though he knew all that, he still clung to life as something to cherish and he hoped that would never change. His new found abilities was something he’d kept from Sinclair, only a handful of people knew the truth and could be trusted to keep his secret and it was this secret, this burden he carried that forced him to resign his commission in Col Sec. The escalation of violence that the knowledge of what was done to him would bring was something he could not bear to see happen.

  The service he was attending that dank and dreary morning was just another example of man’s inhumanity to man and it reinforced his belief that his decision to leave Col Sec had been the right one.

  What to do with the rest of his life was something else though. For most of his young adult life, he had been a soldier, a man of action. His decision to join the military was a direct response to something his father had told him. His father had said that, all that is necessary for evil to triumph, is for good men to do nothing. Taking that to heart, he enlisted, hoping to make a difference. Now though, no matter what he did, nothing changed. All his efforts seemed to have done nothing and he was filled with a lethargy that affected his spirit as much as his strength. Whether he was still grieving over the death of Zara Hardy, the woman he’d grown to love or if the weight of the secret he carried was a burden too much to bear he was uncertain. What he did know though was that he needed to get away, not just to relax because he could do that at home, but more of a change, something different.

  It was because of that he had purchased a ticket on the Colonial Cruise Liner, the Colonial Queen. He had never been on a cruise, so this might just help to sort out what he needed to do and at that moment in time, he had no idea just how right he was.

  The service was over. The thousands in the congregation began to disperse but he remained rooted to the spot allowing the masses to move around and past him. Down at the front he saw three figures huddled under an umbrella; General Sinclair, Matt Hawk, standing at least a couple inches taller than those with him, the man who led the rescue mission that helped him escape from Alliance space and Colonel Anton De Boer who he knew from his time in Recon Delta. Matt looked up from his musings and for a second their eyes met. There was a moment there where he thought Matt recognised him but he looked away and the moment was gone.

  As they moved away, the rain eased off and the sun poked its way through the clouds allowing the warming rays to brighten the day ahead. No matter how bright or powerful those rays were though, they could not extend their influence to dissipate the dark gloom nestled deep within him.

  Bowing his head, he turned and joined the thinning crowd.

  1

  Kurt boarded the Colonial Queen, the most luxurious of all cruise ships and the company’s flagship, just two days after the service at the site of the catastrophic attack. She was in orbit around Titan, the largest of Saturn’s moons and a shuttle service for passengers was run by the company, so they could board from anywhere in the Solar System.

  Travelling light, he took with him, one suitcase and a travel grip. He also took one extra item that stemmed from his past but which he found difficult to let go of, his Sig P996. The weapon had once been the standard sidearm of all Recon Delta marines. The pistol was based upon the automatic pistols of the twenty first century, notably the Sig Sauer P200 range which had a slide on the top of the short barrel and a moulded grip beneath. The battery clip fitted into the grip where, once the slide was jacked, it was ready to use. It could deliver pulsed plasma bolts at two settings. The lowest setting was a ‘stun’ setting and the highest would kill. It went everywhere with him and even though he was certain there would be no reason for him to call upon its services on a relaxing cruise, he took comfort from having it near. He stashed it in a shielded, secret compartment in the base of his travel grip along with three fully charged battery clips.

  Kurt was more than moderately wealthy from his inheritance from the death of his parents. Monies earned from a lucrative sell off, of the family business completed a few years prior to his father’s death and it was only because of that fact that he could afford a berth on the Queen. This was the first time he had put the money to any use since inheriting it and he was determined to enjoy it.

  He’d been on board for around half an hour, just enough time to be shown to his stateroom and square away his gear when he decided to take a trip to the Observation Lounge ready for departure. The steward, who showed him to his room, assured him

  the view from there would be spectacular. Dressed in dark blue cargo pants, lightweight walking shoes, which were the civilian variant to the Hy-Tek military, boots he wore when in Recon Delta and a light blue, short-sleeved shirt, he left his stateroom.

  Having accessed the available files on the computer via his Neural Interface, he knew every inch of the huge starship. He was familiar with all the facilities available to the passengers and he knew a few things the passengers were not supposed to know, all thanks to a careful hack or two, just to ensure his skills did not get too rusty and therefore go to waste. Things such as, they were being delayed in their departure because of one man, Prince Aswan, who had chartered most of the berths available. Kurt had been lucky to get his berth as most of them had already been sold to the prince and his entourage.

  As he walked down the corridor from his stateroom heading towards the Observation Lounge he realised just how big the ship was, easily as big as a Col Sec cruiser in fact it had been designed around the basic body shell of the Legend. He also noted just how empty it seemed which in turn exaggerated the vastness of it all.

  Everywhere he went he noticed the opulence of the fixtures and fittings. Gold light fittings adorned the walls, oak panels covered the floor and the technology available was of the very highest specification. Luxurious seats were dotted about on the deck next to observation monitors so the passengers could track their journey. Each stateroom was fitted out like the best hotel suite with v
iewports, computer access points and comfortable king sized beds. No expense had been spared to give the passengers a luxurious and comfortable cruise.

  He was nearing his destination when he found a group of people moving toward him. Two large men were in front, followed by one more behind, who was in turn, followed by one more man with two more behind him bringing up the rear. They made no effort to appear as if they would make room for Kurt to pass, instead they seemed to forge forward damming up the corridor.

  There was no way Kurt was going to back track until these people reached their destination, so he decided to meet them head on.

  “Stop,” commanded one of the men in front, “You will back up the corridor, now,” he added in a tone that would brook no argument.

  “Don’t think so,” Kurt replied.

  The one who had given the command thrust out his right hand and placed it on Kurt’s chest to push him back in an effort to make him comply.

  A wave of fury erupted inside of Kurt, possibly some pent up rage fuelled by the grief over losing Zara Hardy which was about to manifest in a whirlwind of motion.

  Grabbing the wrist, before the man had chance to exert any pressure, Kurt twisted it violently. Bending the arm in a way nature never intended, he then punched him square in the face. As the first man hit the deck, Kurt back fisted the second man with same hand smashing him into the wall. The third man went to draw a concealed weapon, a pistol probably, but Kurt reached him before the weapon had cleared the holster. Grabbing the hand holding the weapon with his left hand, Kurt punched him with his right, snapping his head back. Still holding on to his hand Kurt relieved the man of his weapon then allowed him to fall to the deck where he lay next to his two comrades, stunned.