by D. J. Holmes
As he turned back to face the cathedral, Johnston paused to take in the site. It was truly an impressive building. Spires upon spires was how he would describe it to his wife Clare when he returned home after Christine’s speech. I’ll have to bring her here someday, Johnston thought before turning back to the matter at hand and shaking his head. The cathedral was massive and impressive, but it was also weak and fragile. A hypervelocity missile fired into its front could topple the whole thing. Even if Christine wasn’t hit directly, the building could fall on her. I don’t like it, they could attack before she comes out if they wanted, Johnston supposed. It would be riskier, there’d be a chance Christine might survive. But a couple of hypervelocity missiles would bury her alive. What more can I do? he asked himself as he did another pirouette to take in the square. Alongside the visible defenses he had four shuttles stationed just two blocks away. They would have their engines running and be full of Imperial Guards, ready to come at a second’s notice. He also had a frigate in orbit that had all of its optical and electromagnetic sensors focused on a two-mile radius around the square. If any kind of targeting system activated, the frigate or the hundreds of drones he had swarming around this part of the city would detect it. Short of forcing Christine to get into a marine’s combat armor, he couldn’t do much else to put a barrier of defense around his Empress. That didn’t stop Johnson from raising a hand to scratch his forehead as he tried to think of something else he could add to his preparations.
Before anything came to him, his COM unit beeped at him in a pattern that made Johnston’s hand flick for it instantly. It was a flash alert. Pulling his COM unit out he activated it. Agent Swenson was requesting to speak to him immediately. “What is it agent?” he asked.
“One of our old roadside cameras picked up Saria,” Swenson replied immediately. “The hit is thirty minutes old. I’m afraid it took some time to work through the system. She was driving an old electric ground vehicle into the town of Magenta. It’s just a handful of miles away from Milan.”
Johnston swore. There was only one reason why she would risk coming so close to where Christine was going to be. “Don’t do anything yet. I want every drone we have in that town though. Nothing moves without us knowing about it. I’m on my way there now. Where are you?”
“I’m in a shuttle on my way too. I’m five minutes out,” Swenson replied.
“I’ll see you there,” Johnston responded as he ended the COM channel. He was tempted to order the town locked down, but if Saria had been there thirty minutes ago there was a chance she was already gone. They needed to find her and track her, not alert the Indian spy that they were onto her. Not yet at least. Johnston almost called Christine to cancel her speech. He knew she would refuse though. Her speech was still two hours away. She would insist he had plenty of time to stop Saria. Sighing, he tucked his COM unit into his tunic and ran to where the shuttles were waiting. They had caught a lucky break spotting Saria. There was a good chance they would catch her before she managed to do anything, but she had avoided every effort to spot her until now. It was just as likely that whatever she had planned she might actually be able to accomplish. There was no point trying to explain that to Christine though, the only thing he could do was stop Saria.
Four minutes later his shuttle touched down on the outskirts of Magenta. As Johnston stepped out of the shuttle, he saw another one banking as it came into land beside his. Once it did Swenson hurriedly joined him. “Here’s the image the roadside cameras picked up,” he said as he held up a datapad. The small electric vehicle had two people visible in it. Beside the driver Saria’s name was being displayed, though not enough of her face was serviceable for Johnston to be sure.
“How certain is that facial scan?” he asked.
“Eighty-eight percent,” Swenson responded. “It’s by far the highest we’ve got since we’ve been looking for her.”
“The other woman?” Johnston followed up.
“She came to Earth nine months ago. The name she used was Ursula Kendrick. That’s clearly not her real name. Beyond that we don’t know anything more. I have agents chasing her past movements now. She has to be another New Delhi spy.”
Johnston nodded his head. “Agreed. The town?”
“We have it on a soft lockdown. No one can leave or enter without us getting a full facial scan. There is more though. A drone picked up Saria’s vehicle on this street,” Swenson explained as he changed the image on the datapad. “It’s a small warehouse district on the edge of the town. It looks like they were headed to one of these two warehouses.” Swenson zoomed in the image. “They are both used for long-term storage of surplus factory equipment. A drone took this image as well.”
The image changed to show a man wearing a wide bowler and a thick scarf. Not much more than his nose and eyebrows were visible. It was more than enough for Johnston. He had been studying the images of Agarwal. “He is here!” Johnston said as his eyes widened. “When was this taken?”
“Just five minutes before we got the first image of Saria,” Swenson answered. “As soon as we knew she was headed here, I had the search parameters for Agarwal widened. The facial recognition gives only a sixty-four percent match. But I concur, it is him.”
“Get drones to cover every angle of those two warehouses,” Johnston ordered.
“Done,” Swenson replied after tapping orders into his datapad.
“How many marines do you have with you?” Johnston asked as he looked at the Imperial Guards still sitting in the shuttle he had ridden to Magenta. He had six with him.
“I have eight in my shuttle and two more shuttles on the way,” Swenson answered.
Johnston stared in the direction of the two warehouses. Agarwal and his associates had to be planning an attack on Christine. The factories were probably where they had stored the hypervelocity missiles. They wouldn’t be staying in Magenta for long. They would want to get their weapons and split up as quickly as possible. They could have left already, Johnston thought as he bit back a curse. Thirty minutes was more than enough time to get what they needed and part ways. “There’s no time to wait for them. We need to take our marines and cover one of the factories each. Once we go in the shuttle pilots can cover the main exits. We’ll go with the standard breach and search protocol. There’s no time to plan anything fancier. Let’s go agent,” Johnston said as he nodded to Swenson. He waited just long enough for the IID agent to nod in reply and then turned and ran to his shuttle.
As soon as he jumped in, he moved to the shuttle’s cockpit and sat behind the two pilots. Donning one of the headsets, he spoke as he tapped the coordinates of the factories into his flight seat. “Set us down two blocks away from these factories. Set engines to silent mode. We are doing as covert an insert as we can. Take off now!” Even as the pilots acknowledged Johnston’s order, he switched COM channels. “Listen up marines, I’m sending you schematics of a factory. As soon as we touch down we’re going to sprint to the factory and breach and clear it. Suspected terrorists are inside along with weaponry planned to be used against the Empress. Expect hypervelocity missiles and perhaps some other explosive weapons. The terrorists will be armed. We want them alive if possible, but dead is acceptable. There’s no time for backup. We need to take them out before they leave and split up. Understood?”
“We understand General,” the Sergeant in charge of the Guards responded. “Are you accompanying us Sir?”
“Of course,” Johnston replied. He wasn’t in his combat armor, but he had a standard combat suit on. That and his augments were all he would need. “Agarwal planned the attack on Empress Christine’s shuttle. He is not getting away this time.”
It took less than sixty seconds for the shuttle to take off and fly low over Magenta. The pilot identified a small square close enough to the warehouses where two shuttles could set down. Moments later Johnston was out of the shuttle. “Take point,” he said to the Sergeant. They moved swiftly through the streets. Most passers-by stopped and s
tared, whilst some dropped their shopping bags in surprise. Those in front of the Guards jumped out of the way. Everyone had seen holo dramas about marines in combat, but it was likely none of the civilians had seen combat armor clad marines in full sprint. In less time than it took the shuttle to fly over the town they reached the factory. Pausing for just long enough to check that Swenson and his marines were in position, Johnston sent an order for the shuttle pilots to take off. “Breach, breach, breach!” he called out.
The marine sergeant took a couple of steps back and shoulder charged the factory door. It burst off its hinges as the marine, boosted by his combat armor’s strength, ploughed through it. Leading the other marines, Johnston charged in. As the Sergeant went right, he went left, plasma rifle raised and ready. For a split second he wondered when he had picked it up and then dismissed the thought. It didn’t matter. As fast as his special forces marine augments allowed him, he flew through the factory, checking rooms and storage areas. With the seconds ticking by and room after room coming up empty, his desperation increased. Just as he got to the far end of the factory a marine’s voice coming over his COM unit stopped him from punching a wall in frustration. “Over here General,” the marine said. “We’ve got one.”
Relief washed over Johnston as he turned and quickly moved in the direction of the marine. When he entered the small side room, he saw a woman on her knees, head lowered. One of the marines had a hand on the back of her neck and his rifle pointed at her head. “She’s the only one here,” the Sergeant said from where he stood in front of the woman. He was holding his datapad, obviously having just scanned her facial features. “She isn’t Saria. But I’ve got a hit. One Akhila Malhorta of New Delhi. She is on the list of suspected Culthrapori militia that were never caught.” The Sergeant nodded to several crates that were lying open at the side of the room. “I think we can assume we found our terrorists.”
Johnston glanced at the crates. One had a couple of hypervelocity missile launchers in it while the other looked like it had housed hypervelocity missiles. He turned his attention back to the marine sergeant as the rest of the marines gathered in the room. “No sign of Saria or Agarwal?” he demanded. When the marines shook their heads Johnston swore. He pulled out his COM unit. “Swenson, what’s going on over there?”
“We’ve got nothing General; this warehouse is clear. What about you?” Swenson responded.
“We got one of Agarwal’s agents, but neither Saria nor Agarwal are here,” Johnston answered. “What about the drones outside, have they detected anyone leaving?”
“No one has come in or out in the last fifteen minutes,” Swenson answered. “Initially our coverage wasn’t perfect. The drones were covering the whole town at that stage. No images of Agarwal or Saria have been picked up though.”
Johnston looked back at the marines gathered around him. “Fan out again, check for any other ways out of here.” If Agarwal had managed to slip out of the warehouse he would be long gone. If he was able to avoid all the drones Swenson had operating throughout the town, he would be almost impossible to find.
“There is an open sewer inside the warehouse,” one of the marines reported seconds later.
Johnston left the woman they had captured and went to see for himself. He swore again when he saw the sewer cover lying to one side. “Swenson, get over here,” he ordered. “There’s an open sewer. I want as many drones as you’ve got down there searching for them. I want to know where they came out.” Almost before he finished speaking, Swenson appeared. One of the marines that was with him opened a compartment in his combat armor and six more remote drones flew down the sewer entrance. Swenson pulled off his backpack and released ten more. He pulled out his datapad and watched as the drones mapped out the sewer system under the warehouse. When he looked back up at Johnston he shook his head. “I’m sorry General. There’s no sign of them. The sewers branch out again and again and again. We can’t cover them all. And they may not be in the sewers any longer.”
Johnson turned and smashed an unarmored fist into the wall. Agarwal had escaped with hypervelocity missiles! Johnston’s mind raced. He knew where Agarwal was going. There are only so many routes that one could take to Milan. “Get your drones to fan out and cover every route from here to Milan. Contact the Imperial Guardsman in the city, I want them on high alert.” As Swenson and the marine sergeant got to work, Johnson turned and left them. He had little hope that the drones would locate Agarwal, even if they knew where he was going. Agarwal was good. There was only one person who knew Agarwal’s target and where he planned to launch his attack from. “Leave us,” Johnston ordered as he stepped into the small room where Akhila was being held. When the marines left the room, Johnston closed and locked the door behind them.
Moving over to Akhila he lowered himself onto his haunches in front of her and then lifted her head. “Do you know who I am?” The Indian opened her mouth as if she was going to reply and then spat at him. With his enhanced reflexes, Johnston easily swatted it out of the air. “That’s not going to work with me,” he said as gently as he could. “I am General Johnston. I was with Emperor Somerville when we overthrew Culthrapori. I personally witnessed his execution on New Delhi. You are in my custody now. There is no escape. I know you were on Earth when we took New Delhi. What you might not know is that many who served Culthrapori were pardoned. If they helped us, we were willing to be lenient. The Empire wishes to put past grievances behind us. For that reason I’m giving you one chance. Tell me where Agarwal and Saria are going and what they’re planning and I will personally ensure that you’re shipped back to New Delhi. You will not be allowed to leave the planet, but you can have your freedom there. What do you say?”
Akhila spat at him again. Johnston deflected it and growled. “I’m not playing games here. You are a terrorist. If you don’t make a deal, you will be executed. Tell me what I want to know.”
Akhila glared at Johnston for several seconds and burst out laughing as she shook her head. “You will get nothing from me you pig. You destroyed my homeworld. I will happily die if it means your Empress dies with me.”
Johnston growled again. Akhila knew he didn’t have time to waste playing games with her. If he had weeks, he could hand her over to the IID. Their enhanced interrogation techniques would break Akhila eventually. But there was no time for that. “Tell me!” he pressed as he grabbed Akhila’s throat to stop her from spitting once more. Even as he held her, Akhila tried to shake herself free. Johnston released her and closed his eyes as he tried to think clearly. Akhila took the opportunity to spit on him. Her saliva splashed on his eye and ran down his cheek. In a split-second Johnston’s rage swelled up within him. His hand snapped back ready to deliver a throat crushing blow to the Indian spy. Memories of the visit James had paid to his office in the Imperial Palace before departing Earth made him stop. He had made a promise to his friend. A friend who had already lost one wife before. He wasn’t going to let him lose another. Slower than before he spoke to Akhila. “You cannot provoke me. You do not understand what is going on here. I made a promise to an old friend that I would protect the Empress with my life. You are nothing but a murderer. A condemned women. Tell me now or you will suffer.”
“There’s nothing more you can do to me than taking my homeworld’s freedom,” Akhila sneered.
“There is,” Johnston said as he held Akhila gaze. “Tell me now. Last chance.”
Akhila shook her head. Johnston took a deep breath. “I take no pleasure in this. But I must know. Pulling his plasma pistol from its holster, he turned it down to its lowest power setting and shot Akhila in the foot. The plasma burnt through her shoe and ate away nearly half of her foot within seconds. Bloodcurdling screams filled the small room. Reaching out with his other hand, Johnston grabbed Akhila by throat and tightened his grip until she stopped screaming. “Tell me what I want to know!” he demanded. Letting her go, he pulled a hyper syringe from his utility belt. “I can take the pain away instantly. Tell me now
!”
When Akhila refused to speak, Johnston turned his pistol towards her other foot. She flinched, pulling it away from the muzzle of his weapon, but she still did not speak. Adjusting his aim, Johnston fired. Her screams echoed all around him as she fell over and writhed on the floor. Banging from the door made Johnston turn away from her. “Stay out!” he yelled. Turning back to Akhila he grabbed her and pulled her up onto her knees. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her mouth was working up and down in a silent scream. Johnston waved the hyper syringe in front of her. “All the pain can go away instantly. The surgeons can restore your feet. Tell me what I want to know or I won’t stop until there’s nothing left of you. I will trade your life for Empress Christine’s in a heartbeat.” To prove his point, Johnston pressed the muzzle of his pistol into the charred remains of Akhila’s left foot. Her silent screams turned into vocal ones as Johnston pressed and moved the muzzle around.
