by Daniel Gibbs
“Yes, we do,” Arendse began, then she stopped, a smile forming on her lips. “You want to hit them on the ground.”
Amir bobbed his head up and down. “It’s where they are most vulnerable. They’re likely keeping a few of them on ready five, the rest on ready thirty alert. We already know they aren’t especially good at running more than two sorties in a day, and I can’t believe they have any modern refueling capabilities.”
Sarno’s face perked up as she listened to them. “I requested advanced ECM pods from the CDF… so we have those too.”
“The Monrovians may have updated fighters, but they haven’t had the time to upgrade their entire space/air defense network,” Arendse interjected. “Okay. Let’s say we come up with an operational plan that works. That will leave us facing the rest of their national guard, which now has power armor, advanced tanks, and weapons easily capable of defeating our armor.”
“We need more people,” Kaufman said flatly. “We don’t have enough combat effectives. Doctor Tural, what about the people we’ve rescued? Can any of them fight?”
“A few. But they don’t have military experience for the most part. We learned from debriefing the survivors that anyone who could be considered a threat was separated from the rest and held elsewhere. I’m not sure what throwing inexperienced civilians into the fray with basic training on how to pull the trigger gets us except a lot of dead civilians.”
“I’ve been studying the responses from average Monrovians to the current conflict, and I believe I may have an idea on a way to get more support,” a nun who Amir hadn’t met before said, with what he took to be a slight Russian accent.
“Enlighten us, Sister Chayka,” Sarno said.
“There is a rising tide of discontent among the general population. Despite tight control by the authorities over news broadcasts, there’s something of a black-market news operation run by people on social media platforms on the holonet. I believe we could harness that black market, if you will. Generate protests, get large numbers of people in the streets. The Monrovians would have to use their paramilitary police forces and National Guard to control the riots, causing them to spread out. Once that occurred, we would be able to launch attacks with impunity again. Assuming we have air superiority, of course.”
“What about Colonel Cohen?” Calvin asked pointedly. “When are we going to get him out of there, Mother Superior?”
“Out of where? I want to rescue him as much as you do, but right now, we have no idea where he’s being held.”
“Is this the point where you tell me that all of this is bigger than one man, and we have to stay on mission?”
Sarno said nothing, but the way her face contorted spoke to anger.
“I’d remind you all if it weren’t for this one man, none of us would be here right now, and the Monrovians would’ve merrily continued killing innocent men, women, and children.”
“And we haven’t taken losses?” Sarno finally said, her face turning red. “Our order lost more sisters today than we have in the last three years combined. I lament the loss of an outstanding leader and a courageous soldier, but I will not risk the entire fight to save one man or woman. If you can figure out where he’s being held, determine how to get him out, and put together a viable plan, bring it to me. I would love nothing more than to save Colonel Cohen… but our focus now has to be on completing what we started.”
“If I may,” Amir began. “Perhaps it would be better to split into several groups to attack the multitude of problems we face separately.” Hopefully, that will redirect the anger into something more productive.
Several of the nuns nodded at Amir’s suggestion, which Sarno seemed to take note of as her eyes swept about the room. “I agree, Colonel Amir. Would you join the pilots in evaluating our ground attack plan?”
“Of course, Mother Superior.”
“The rest of us will review the suggestion to ferment dissent within the populace and strike while they are divided.”
“I’m going to find out where they took Colonel Cohen,” Calvin said in a loud tone that bordered on rude.
“I wish you luck in that endeavor, Colonel,” Sarno responded neutrally. “We will reconvene in the morning. Dismissed.”
As soon as “dismissed” left her lips, the nuns filed out of the tent, with Sarno walking out behind them, her long robe dragging across the ground. Calvin, Tural, and Amir were left alone.
“Why does it seem like I’m the only one here pushing to go get the colonel and bring him home?” Calvin asked.
“Cal,” Amir said, using his nickname on purpose. “We all want David back. Getting mad and turning on each other and our allies isn’t going to get him back. The first thing we must do is neutralize the enemy air power. Once we do that, we’ll bring him home.”
Calvin sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Amir. I’m wound up tight the last few days. I feel like I let Cohen down by not being there for him.”
“I’m pretty sure that Colonel Cohen would tell us all to focus on the mission and not on him.”
“He hasn’t been obeying orders lately, so why should we?” Calvin asked, a wicked grin on his face.
“I’m more concerned about what the Mother Superior will do to us if we disobey her orders,” Tural interjected.
“Let’s get to it, gentlemen,” Amir said. “Three hours isn’t much time to do what we need to get done.”
The other two nodded, and the three men walked out of the tent together. Allah, please give us strength and give me wisdom to help defeat the infidels. He realized with a start he’d missed the third prayer of the day and resolved to make the fourth prayer if it all humanly possible.
Aibek peered around the bridge at 1600 CMT onboard the Lion of Judah. I am ready to get some food and retire to my cabin to review reports. I am not sure I would ever want David’s job… he must do far too much paperwork. Still, commanding the ship even temporarily was an incredible honor. The teamwork and dedication by this group of individuals that became something more than the sum of their parts when all worked together was awe-inspiring. Still, the news that David had been captured had hit the ship hard. The bridge team, and especially the officers and enlisted personnel that worked with David daily, were in a funk and chafed at not being able to help get him home.
“Conn, communications,” Taylor said from his station. “Incoming flash traffic, CDF Command. I have General MacIntosh on active vidlink.”
“Put him through to my view, Lieutenant,” Aibek replied, looking up at the small viewscreen above the CO’s chair that David usually sat in.
The unsmiling face of General MacIntosh snapped onto the screen. “Good day, General, sir.”
“Good afternoon, Colonel Aibek. What is the ship’s status?” MacIntosh asked, all business.
“All systems are normal, and we’ve sustained minimal battle damage, sir.”
“Good. I have new orders for you. Proceed at best speed to Monrovia and set up a blockade of the system.”
“Sir?” Aibek asked, incredulous. Perhaps honor may be restored by saving Colonel Cohen. No, David. My friend.
“You heard me, Colonel. Blockade the system. Your orders are specifically to prevent any League of Sol military vessels or ships carrying League military hardware from landing. Use whatever force is required to accomplish the objective.”
“What about rescuing Colonel Cohen?”
“Let’s get something straight right now, Lieutenant Colonel Aibek. There will be no military interventions by the Terran Coalition, or any ship flagged as a CDF vessel on the surface of Monrovia. The blockade will prevent the flow of arms, nothing more. If you or any member of the Lion’s crew attempts to attack Monrovian government assets, you’ll be court-martialed and drummed out of the military. Do I make myself clear?”
Aibek nodded uneasily, his scales flaring. “Crystal clear, sir.”
“Colonel Cohen got himself into this mess by disobeying orders. Don’t think that I’m not aware of
the little stunt you pulled in taking out the satellite network’s control center. Be thankful that your leaders and President Spencer agree with the morality of your actions. Otherwise, you’d already be out. Make damn sure the rest of your people understand the stakes here. The entire galaxy is watching, and the Terran Coalition isn’t invading a neutral planet.”
“Sir, permission to speak freely?”
“Denied. Carry out your orders, Colonel. MacIntosh out.”
The viewer blinked off, leaving Aibek sitting in the chair, his mouth agape. This is… dishonorable. Evil must be opposed by the just.
“Sir, are we really going to abide by those orders?” Ruth asked, openly breaking bridge protocol.
“Lieutenant, we have our orders,” Aibek said, setting his jaw and sitting up in the chair.
“Seriously, sir? We’re just going to execute a blockade and leave Colonel Cohen to rot?”
“What would you have us do, Lieutenant? Launch an unauthorized invasion?”
“We could for starters provide better intelligence to the sisters. How about additional air support, or a special warfare team. There are options short of a full-scale invasion.”
“Lieutenant, you are out of line. If you cannot hold yourself to the standards required to serve at your post, I will relieve you of duty,” Aibek stated in his unflappable, matter-of-fact tone.
Ruth’s face turned blood-red, her cheeks puffed in and out, and her fists clenched. “What are your orders, sir?” she finally asked, voice dripping with contempt.
“Prepare the LIDAR system for multiple target acquisition. You will need to work closely with the pilots to track and inspect all vessels coming and going from Monrovia.”
“Yes, sir,” Ruth grated out before turning around in her chair to face the void.
The thing about it, she’s not wrong. Damn politicians. A shame this wasn’t a Saurian operation. There’d be no question of doing whatever it took to get a warrior home. “Navigation, plot Lawrence drive jump to Monrovia.”
“Plot Lawrence drive jump to Monrovia, aye aye, sir,” Hammond said.
Aibek sat back in the chair, thinking through possibilities. Perhaps the opportunity to help Cohen will present itself in a way that doesn’t require breaking orders. Until then, we will press on with our duty.
28
Over the previous ten hours since his capture, David had been roughed up and left bloodied and bruised. There were some attempts at questioning him, but nothing that gave him pause or came remotely close to obtaining information. Now, though, he sensed the situation was changing. He’d been marched into a room while blindfolded and strapped into a chair that seemed built solely for torture from what he could tell. He heard the breathing of another person, and then a male voice very close to him.
“Hello, Colonel Cohen. How are you doing today?”
David couldn’t quite place the accent, but the sound of it reminded him of a hissing snake.
“Name, David Cohen. Rank, Colonel. Serial Number, 50-6813560FP.”
The other man laughed. “I’m already aware of that information, Colonel. I wish to discuss other matters.”
“I want to retire and become a rabbi. We’ve got all dreams.”
The blindfold was suddenly ripped off, leaving David to rapidly close his eyes amid the brightness of the light directed at his face. “You have spirit… good. That will make helping you to see the truth of your existence an even greater triumph of reason over superstition.”
David blinked several times, trying to see the man attached to the voice, but could only get vague glimpses of him. “If you’re going to try to convince me there’s no God, don’t waste your breath,” he said in a steady voice.
The lights dimmed for a moment, allowing David to take in the sight of the interrogator, a short man with Asian features. He appeared to be middle-aged, but the most important detail was his uniform, which consisted of a black utility suit, standard issue in the League of Sol. So, they brought in a professional. I should be so lucky.
“I’m not only going to convince you there is no God, but I’m also going to help you convince others of it,” the man said. He turned and gestured at four paintings on the wall. “How many pictures do you see here, Colonel?”
“Four.”
“Really? I could be sure there’s five. Look again.”
David rolled his eyes. “Let me guess… two plus two equals five? What’s next, you’re going to take me to room 101?”
The man laughed again. “I like you, Colonel. I suppose it’s a bit of whimsy on my part. I see we’ve both read the same book, though it’s been a very long time since it was the year 1984.” The lights turned up again, and the man got very close to David’s face. “Let‘s get a few things straight here, shall we? First, you don’t exist anymore. No one is coming for you. Your friends have no idea where you are. Second, I control your life. I hold it in my hands. Help me, and you might walk out of here. Refuse, and you will die in agony. Third, nothing you have ever done has ever prepared you for being questioned by the League. I dedicate my life to honing my craft. I take it very, very seriously. Breaking you will be my crowning achievement.”
Great, I got a raging narcissist as an interrogator. “Hopefully, not breaking me won’t impact your next League efficiency review.”
The man smiled in a way that made David shiver to his bones. “How many soldiers do the Little Sisters of Divine Recompense have landed on Monrovia?”
“None... they don’t have soldiers. They’re all nuns,” David said in his best attempt at a cheeky tone. Immediately, he regretted it as pain shot through his body, as if every nerve was on fire at once. Unable to control himself, he let out a blood-curdling scream.
It took a few seconds for the pain to stop registering, even after the device causing it was turned off. When David’s mind finally did clear, he saw the man smiling and looking down at him. “Now we’re going to stop with the smart-mouth answers. How many nuns are on the planet?”
“Fifty thousand,” David replied, remembering his training to give fake but believable information over no information.
“You’re lying. I already know there are less than eight thousand nuns deployed here.”
“Then why are you asking me?”
“Because I want you to know that I know far more than you think I do so that when you lie to me, it will be exceedingly painful.”
“Bring it on,” David said, and immediately, the searing pain shot through him again, causing another ear-shattering scream.
“Now let’s address a different subject,” the man began after waiting thirty seconds for David’s mental faculties to return. “I’d like you to admit to me that there is no God.”
“Never.”
“I see,” he said, then spoke into a commlink. “Bring in the prisoner, please.”
The door swung open, and two guards wearing the uniform of the League manhandled a young woman in a nun’s robe and habit into the room. “So, you say there’s a God?”
“Without question.”
The man reached out his hand, and one of the guards handed him a standard-issue League sidearm. “Would you also say this woman, a sister of God… a nun, who has sworn her life to the service of God himself, is someone He’d care about?”
“God cares about everyone equally.”
“Would he care if I killed her in front of you?”
“Of course. It would be added to the list of sins you’ve committed, which I’m sure is extraordinarily long.”
“Would he care enough to stop me?”
“God doesn’t directly control our actions. We all have free will, and the agency to do what we want.”
“So he cares about us but doesn’t care enough to do anything to help us?”
“He helps us all the time. The incredible rarity of life, the infinite combinations of creation, how everything works together and allows all of us to live. The technology we’ve discovered because of the mental capabilities given to
us and the other races that live in our galaxy. All of it, from the big bang to now, reflects God’s care and love.”
“You believe this shit,” the interrogator blurted out, apparently surprised. “A pity.” He lowered the sidearm and shot the nun in both kneecaps. She screamed even louder than David had, blood flowing freely from her wounds.
“Would you like to receive medical attention?” the interrogator asked her.
“Please,” she said, unsteady and half delirious from the pain.
“We’re not uncivilized people… simply renounce God, and I will have you treated by the best physicians in the League.”
She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing, and with a strength of character David found inspiring, shook her head. “Never. I’ll die first. My soul will go to heaven. This body is nothing more than a shell. I will not spit on my Lord to save it.”
“You fanatics always start the same, blathering on about God this and God that. Sometimes I even encounter a few of you that keep going on about it as you die,” the man said, before casually shooting her in the head. Her lifeless body slumped to the floor, and David felt pure blinding rage build within him.
David first tried to rip the restraints off, but they were just too strong and he too weak. He was trapped; then the pain hit again, washing over him like a sea of fire. “Oh, Colonel, you can’t break free. You’d need a laser cutter to get out of those bonds. Now, where were we? Oh yes, I’d like you to admit that God isn’t real.”
David recalled the book of Job, where his wife encouraged him to curse God and die after he’d lost everything and been scourged with boils. He lifted his head and dug deep within to find the will to continue to resist. “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. I’ve served Him my entire life. I served Him yesterday, I serve Him today, and if I still draw breath, I’ll serve Him tomorrow. Blessed be the name of Lord my God!”
The face of the interrogator twisted into an angry mask, and he pressed the button to administer pain yet again. David screamed in agony yet again, and his body felt as if it was on fire. Unlike the rest of the times he’d used the button, this time, the man held it down.
