by Mark Wandrey
Pearl
Book Five of Murphy’s Lawless
By
Mark Wandrey
PUBLISHED BY: Beyond Terra Press
Copyright © 2020 Mark Wandrey
All Rights Reserved
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Get the free Four Horsemen prelude story “Shattered Crucible”
and discover other Chris Kennedy Publishing titles at:
https://chriskennedypublishing.com/
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License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
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To Joy and Patrick, the best pearls I’ve ever found.
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Cover Design by J Caleb Design
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Contents
MISSION LOG
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
About Mark Wandrey
Find out what’s coming from CKP!
The Caine Riordan Universe
Excerpt from Book One of the Revelations Cycle
Excerpt from Book One of the Salvage Title Trilogy
Excerpt from Book One of the Earth Song Cycle
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MISSION LOG
UPDATE, MISSION DAY 071
MAJOR R.Y. MURPHY, CO, RECORDING
SUMMARY AO DATA, 55 TAURI B 3 (R’Bak)
LOCAL YEAR: 672 SR (Date coding note: SR stands for “Since Rev.” Origin of “SR” uncertain. Could refer to spaceside locals’ first official recording of years (i.e., revolutions around the local star), the political revolts that compelled the SpinDogs to leave R’Bak, or the founding of their first rotational habitat, or rohab.)
LOCAL DATE: Day 074 (of 369) (Time sync note: Local days are only 18 hours. Consequently, the local year of 369 days is actually only 75 percent the duration of one Earth year.)
EARTH DATE: September 19, 2125 AD
PREOP/STRATEGIC SITREP (approximate):
Increasing competition among powers in the primary system (Jrar) may have prompted several nations on the main planet (Kulsis) to move up the timetable on exploitation of R’Bak during the imminent Searing. First mission arrived in this system (secondary star, Shex) 18 months earlier than on any previous Searing. ELINT and SIGINT both indicate that the OpFor is from Kulsis’ second largest power, which has an entente/détente relationship with the greatest/oldest/traditionalist power.
Due to OpFor’s early arrival at R’Bak, SpinDog and RockHounds (two different branches of the spaceside local population) had neither instituted full cessation of travel nor completed re-concealment of stationary assets. Many were compelled to go into hiding wherever they were, including various resource collection teams on the second planet, V’dyr, and one trade mission concluding business on R’Bak.
MISSION DAY UPDATES
000Ship carrying Lost Soldiers (Dornaani hull Olsloov) arrives in system, scans, discovers SpinDogs on far side of local sun (Shex). Observes, decodes comms. Language is quickly identified as a devolved form of Ktor as it was spoken almost 1,400 years ago (approximation only). Despite linguistic roots, Olsloov command staff deems it unlikely that the SpinDogs would become aggressive or that they have had any recent contact with the Ktoran Sphere.
001Contact made by Olsloov command staff. Purpose: acquire consumables.
002No response, but Spin/Rock ships move to avoid further LoS/lascom messages. Pickets of harvesters/raiders notice movement of the previously undetected Spin/Rock craft, begin maneuvering at extremely high gee (often 2–3, sustained) to effect intercept. Terran cadre analyzes the situation; Olsloov selectively jams OpFor broad-comms. Only transmission completed by OpFor was decrypted as “Investigating local anomaly; stand by for details.” Narrow-beam comms blocked by position of companion star (Shex), which occluded receivers located in the primary (Jrar) system.
003Sensor results from Olsloov indicate that OpFor’s hi-gee maneuvers are consistent with a) intercept of SpinDog craft and b) repositioning to clear transmission coordinates to Jrar. Capt. Mara Lee, USAF, is restored from cryogenic suspension to assist in battlefield support and liaison duty with SpinDog matriarchy.
004Contact established with Spin/Rock leadership using Dornaani translation system to update language from classic Ktor and to crack cyphers. Agreement reached. Compromised Spin/Rock craft adjust course to flee toward prearranged coordinates in outer system. Intercept trajectory for OpFor intersects optimal ambush point for Olsloov and her drones/ROVs. Captain Lee receives partial accelerated training in local language via virtuality immersion.
006OpFor pursuit elements ambushed by Olsloov at edge of outer system. Tech superiority of Olsloov and her deployed assets results in complete elimination of enemy hulls without loss or significant damage. In and near R’Bak orbit, Dornaani ROVs (with direct oversight from Captain Lee) assist Spin/Rock assets to eliminate small number of OpFor hulls (mostly interface transports) and sensors. Dornaani standoff drones eliminate two planetside comm arrays with potential to reach Jrar system.
007Olsloov arrives on-station at R’Bak, conducts close survey for further planetside comm facilities with inter-system capability. None located. AARs generated and shared between Olsloov and Spin/Rock cadres.
008Data sharing and first meetings between Olsloov and Spin/Rock leadership. Mutual support and joint operation agreements reached. Captain Lee is debriefed by Olsloov cadre and resumes accelerated language training via virtuality technology.
009Transfer of volatiles and other consumables to Olsloov commences. Captain Lee completes accelerated language training.
010Data packets for tech sharing and replication of 20th century Earth weapons and systems relayed to and declared operational by Spin/Rock automated production facilities. Examples of each system are provided from legacy examples carried aboard Olsloov. Legacy examples include helicopters, weapons, ammunition, simple electronics. Captain Lee commences training of first class of SpinDog rotary wing pilots.
013Major RY Murphy restored from cryogenic suspension. Debrief commences.
014Major Murphy debrief ends. Light company of Lost Soldiers detached for R’Bak ops is revived.
015R’Bak ops contingent (Lost Soldiers) commences accelerated language training aboard Olsloov. Olsloov and seeded (permanent) microsat net detect upswing in movement by advanced vehicles on surface of R’Bak.
016First planetside training sorties of SpinDog RWP pilots led by Captain Lee. Planetside movement increase is confirmed as OpFor activity. Spin/Rock intel assessment is that they are gathering resources to secure optimum construction site for transmitter capable of reaching Jrar system.
017Guildmother/Matriarch of leading Spin/Rock Family reported to Olsloov as MIA planet
side on R’Bak while conducting undisclosed SAR ops in north polar extents. Capt. Lee is cleared for, and tasked to, effect recovery of Guildmother/Matriarch, attached personnel, and others requiring rescue.
018Capt. Lee’s recovery mission achieves objective while sustaining moderate casualties, but Guildmother/Matriarch had been mortally wounded prior to her arrival in AO.
019Olsloov cadre, Lost Soldier CO Murphy, and SpinDog leadership agrees to conops of joint contact and recruitment mission to R’Bak. Objective: gather sufficient indigenous forces and commandeer cached Kulsis equipment to disrupt and prevent OpFor construction of dirtside inter-system comm array. Spaceside requirements articulated; assets identified. Preps begin. Construction of improvised meteoritic assault capsules commences, with limited assistance from Dornaani and contemporary Terrans. Mission leadership selected and briefed. Training commences.
021Lost Soldier R’Bak detachment completes language training, skills assessment, physical readiness conditioning, and is officially stood up as an active unit. Designation pending.
022Olsloov completes replenishment activities, prepares for departure. Training for joint mission to R’Bak concludes. Objectives and targets updated. Final briefing.
023Olsloov departs.
024Mission dropship commences op with tug boost toward R’Bak along retrograde orbital track.
028Orbital insertion successful. Joint mission under command of Lt. Harold Tapper confirmed as maneuvering to establish contacts with Sarmatchani nomads.
036SpinDog transport shuttles conduct high angle insertion to R’Bak north polar regions, followed by subsonic overland NOE flight to convey task force under Cpt. Hubert Moorefield to border of Hamain desert region in northern hemisphere. Cpt. Moorefield establishes and assumes command of Camp Stark FOB, proximal to anticipated rendezvous point with Lt. H. Tapper.
045Lt. H. Tapper coordinates and conducts successful Sarmatchani strike against elements of J’Stull satrapy. Mission-critical Kulsian vehicle cache, along with relevant operational supplies, taken and being convoyed to elements from Camp Stark.
046Seized vehicles and supplies are transferred to Cpt. Moorefield, CO Camp Stark, at rendezvous point. J’Stull pursuit/attack repulsed after suffering heavy losses. Abandoned and reclaimable equipment includes APCs, light ACVs, and company-level personal gear, including Kulsian small arms. Note: otherwise unbreakable draught creatures (whinaalani) allow themselves to be ridden by our personnel. Casualties: 11 WIA, 1 WIA/ND (“non-deployable”), 4 KIA.
055Counter-intelligence operation carried out by Chalmers and Jackson interdicted J’Stull attempt at covert interception of strike assets en route to main objective from Camp Stark. (See Tab #1 in classified addenda.)
071Supplemental debrief of Major Mara “Bruce” Lee produces intel and cultural liaison contexts suspected but unconfirmed in re: to failed rescue op of SpinDog Matron of the Thraazqir family. (See classified addenda Tabs #2 and #3.)
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Chapter One
Mogadishu
The Range Rover had seen better days, as had the streets it was navigating. Back home in Romulus, Michigan, the ratio was about one pothole for every yard of road. Here it was about one yard-sized pothole for every foot of road. The heat in the back seat was sweltering, but the Rover had probably never had air conditioning, and you were crazy to drive through Mogadishu with the windows down. The truck caromed over a particularly deep pothole, and his head bounced off the roof.
“You good, boss man?” the driver asked. He was about 6’ 9”, maybe more, and would be considered skeletal back in the States. If he had been born there, he might have been a high school basketball star. Here, he looked decades older than he was and was missing his left leg below the knee, probably courtesy of some unknown close encounter with the indifferent nature of high explosives.
The man was definitely speaking a version of Afar; it wasn’t pure Somali. African dialects weren’t in his collection, so when this opportunity opened up, he started learning them. He’d gotten pretty good with Somali over the last two weeks, but Afar was trickier.
“Yeah, A-OK,” Victor said in Afar and flashed the man a thumbs up. The driver beamed at him, his brilliant white teeth offset by his ebony skin. He couldn’t tell if that meant he was speaking the correct language or not. Knowing my luck, he works for Aidid.
A shrill squawk from his backpack made him jump. He’d forgotten about the sat-phone. Despite the literature, it didn’t work in Somalia often and almost never in Mogadishu—there was too much electromagnetic garbage in the air with the US military in town.
He fished it out and flipped the huge antenna up. The signal bar showed minimal. With a shrug, he stabbed the Connect button with his thumb. “Talk quick; signal sucks.”
“Vat? Damn it, man, about time. Where you been?”
“Snap, you idiot, it’s three o’clock here. The meeting, remember?”
“Jesus, I forgot. Look, man, you gotta get outta there. Now.”
“What the fuck you talking about? General Aidid is interested in the bees. Like really interested.”
“Yeah, well, the FBI just cleaned your place out.”
Victor felt his blood run cold. He licked his lips and sat up straight in the seat, something a white guy in fatigues shouldn’t do when riding down a street in Mogadishu, especially in daylight. “What did you say?”
“I said the F-fucking-B-I, just hit your place. I’m on a burner phone at the airport. I’m getting out of Dodge. This is your only warning. Good luck.”
“Snap!” Vat yelled into the phone, but a series of clicks and a rapid beep told him that half a world away, his long-time buddy Sammy “Snap” Baker had just broken the disposable phone in half and tossed it into the garbage. “Fuck,” he said quietly. Someone had dropped a dime on his operation. It wasn’t Snap, or he wouldn’t have risked everything calling him. Who then?
Doesn’t matter. Not now.
“You good, boss man?”
Vat looked up at the driver. Did the man know more than four words of English? He’d been taking Vat to the hotel—more like armed compound, really—provided for him upon arriving in Mogadishu. Vat didn’t know the driver’s name. He’d just gotten into the car General Aidid’s aide had pointed to.
“Can you take me to the American base?”
The man’s big friendly smile disappeared in an instant. Yeah, definitely Aidid’s man. “You go hotel.” Vat made a face, and the driver repeated the statement in Afar, confirming Vat’s earlier guess.
Vat shook his head hard. “No. The American base,” he said in the driver’s language. He reached into his duffel, fumbled around, and pulled out a pouch. He held up two crisp $100 bills. “Base.” The look of hunger on the man’s face was unmistakable, still he hesitated. Vat added two more bills. The hesitation disappeared as the driver reached for them. Vat handed him two and held two back. “You’ll get these when you drop me at base.”
“Okay, boss man,” the driver said, in English this time, his face hard but determined. $400 US in Mogadishu could buy you a new life, or better yet, a ticket out. Vat wondered what his own ticket would cost.
A bullet came through the side window as they turned onto a side street.
The driver gunned it. Vat fell sideways and let his momentum carry him to the floor, pulling his bag with him. His hand went back in and came out with his pistol. In a couple of years, it would be known as a Glock 26. Right now, it was an un-serialized preproduction present from a friend. Super lightweight, super compact, and loaded with 9x19mm parabellum, NATO standard. The 10-round magazine and small size had been a surprise to more than a few people with ill intentions toward him.
What fucking good will it do against a sniper?
He briefly wondered if Aidid had targeted him. No, he was being paranoid. Aidid would just have the driver pull over and a couple guys would have blown Vat’s brains out in the middle of the road; no need for the cloak and dagger shit. Someone had probably seen th
e camos. Shit.
The Range Rover’s motor slowed. Vat dropped another hundred over the front seat. “Do. Not. Stop,” he said, carefully pronouncing every word. The engine coughed and roared again as the driver punched it.
No more bullets followed.
Vat stayed on the floor.
He dug through his bag and grabbed the folder with his proper documents and secured the gun in its Velcro retention strap inside the bag. He destroyed the ID he’d entered the country with beyond recognition and stuffed it under the driver’s seat. Nobody would have any idea who that guy was.
He risked looking up from behind the seat and saw they were approaching the base’s checkpoint. A pair of armored personnel carriers flanked the concrete barriers, and he realized how fast the taxi was moving.
“Whoa, slow down!” he barked in Afar. “We don’t want to give the guards the wrong idea.”
“Okay, boss man.”
The driver slowed and soon a young soldier on one of the APCs waved them to stop.
“Stop and identify yourself!”
“I’m good from here,” Vat said and pushed seven $100 bills at the driver. The man took them, amazed. “Good life, my friend.” The driver nodded as Vat slowly got out, holding the bag in one hand, high and to the side.
“My name is Alex Finnigan. I’m a US military contractor!”
“Keep your arms raised, turn around, and slowly back toward the APC.”
He did as he was ordered.
Five minutes later, the Range Rover drove off.
An hour later, he was climbing into an idling UH-60 Blackhawk.
