Surprisingly, Doc stepped back. The expression he wore was odd, the look in his eyes a mixture of sadness and pride. “You don’t need me for this,” he said gruffly. “We’ll catch up after.” He nodded respectfully to the woman, his gaze resting for a brief moment on the insignia on the captain’s sleeve.
The woman nodded and walked away.
Without a word, Katie followed. She spied other special forces soldiers along the way, each dressed in the same drakeskin uniform. Everyone she saw seemed either to be conferring with Cobalt security, or hauling gear back to their ship.
They’d even bumped into Lieutenant Case, and he’d given her a small salute and an encouraging nod as he passed by.
She wondered if he knew about the debrief, and guessed he might, given the identity of the woman she followed.
There was just one person seated in the conference room when they arrived.
“Miss Hyer,” Lieutenant Campbell greeted as they entered. He gestured to a tray in the center of the table, which held a pair of carafes and some mugs. “Coffee? Water?”
She shook her head.
Captain Reid waved Katie to a nearby seat. “Tell us what happened, please. From the top.”
“Well, I guess it started when this ship came out of nowhere and nearly sideswiped Goblin,” she began, and Jack held up a hand.
“That’s the tug you were piloting?” he clarified, and she nodded.
“Continue,” the captain said.
With a deep breath, Katie plunged in, sparing no detail—or so she thought. Two hours later, she realized how skillful an interrogator Campbell was; she recalled details she hadn’t even known she’d observed.
“And that’s it?” he asked when she reached the point in her story where the voice came over the public net and ordered her to turn herself in.
She lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “You were there for the rest of it.”
The lieutenant sat back, contemplating the mug he held in his hands for a long minute.
After a while, Katie chanced a look the captain’s way, surprised the woman would wait so patiently for Campbell to come to whatever conclusion he was mulling over.
He finally straightened, pinning Katie with a look. “What you did today was foolish.”
She gulped, and nodded.
“You took huge risks.”
She nodded again.
“You killed a man.”
She sucked in a harsh breath, swallowed hard, and nodded a third time.
“And you placed yourself—and in the end, your loved ones—in danger.”
A little ball of misery began to churn in her gut, and Katie fought the desire to curl into a ball and whimper. She sat perfectly still, muscles locked in a rigid form of attention as her eyes remained glued to his.
Something flashed in their depths, and unaccountably, Katie received the impression that she’d passed some sort of test.
“I… apologize, sir.”
Campbell nodded, and a small smile graced his face. “See that it doesn’t happen again, Miss Hyer. The Geminate Navy needs people like you. Next time, we might not be around to rescue you.”
“Ex–excuse me?” she stuttered, confusion flooding her as she looked from him to Reid and then back.
The captain’s face was as inscrutable as ever, but Campbell’s had broken into a wide grin.
“Surprised?” He shook his head. “Don’t be.” He pointed his coffee mug at her in warning. “Not that everything I said wasn’t absolutely true, but it’s also true that you put a lot of thought into your actions, and you managed to single-handedly neutralize seven of the enemy.”
Captain Reid leaned forward, hands clasped on the tabletop. “What the lieutenant means is that the kind of initiative you showed is a trait the Navy looks for in its people. With the proper discipline, we can help mold and shape you, help you reach your best potential.”
Katie’s mouth opened and closed in wordless protest.
The captain sat back, and then gestured around her. “I’m sure Cobalt Mining is a decent corporation, but have you considered what you intend to do with your life? You have the capacity to be so much more.”
Katie looked away. The woman’s words struck uncomfortably close to home; they sounded exactly like what Doc had always told her.
“I’ll… think about it.”
She looked up when a metallic ting hit the table. Whatever the object was, Lieutenant Campbell’s hand was covering it, but she could hear it scrape as he slid it across to her.
He lifted his hand to reveal what looked like a golden coin. With a small wave, he indicated she should pick it up. “Go on. It’s yours.”
Katie reached for it, turning the cool metal over in her hands. On one side was engraved the words ‘De Opresso Liber.’ On the other was a symbol, a stylized carbyne blade embedded in flame. The same emblem was displayed on the sleeve of his uniform.
She looked up in confusion.
“Hand that to any Navy recruiter, and tell them Team Five sent you.”
Beside her, Reid stood. Campbell did the same.
He smiled at her one last time, rapped his knuckles against the top of the table, and said, “Hope to see you again someday, Katie Hyer.”
And with that, they were gone.
Later that night, in the privacy of her quarters, Katie hugged Fred close as she sat on her bunk and stared thoughtfully at the coin she held in her palm. Her wire automatically translated the words for her, and something about the phrase, ‘To free the oppressed’ struck a chord deep within.
She’d show it to Doc tomorrow, ask him if he knew its significance. For now, she had a lot to process, and Fred was a great listener.
“What do you think, Fred?” she asked softly as she ran a hand down his back. “Ready to be a Navy dog?”
A word from LL Richman
Thank you for reading Operation Cobalt. I hope you enjoyed Katie’s story. She ends up playing an integral role in The Chiral Agent, the first book in the main Biogenesis War series.
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PREVIEW:
THE CHIRAL conspiracy
ONE
Pirate Station
Straits of Sargon,
Akkadia
(Alpha Centauri A)
The pirate station smelled like old socks.
Correction, NCIC Special Agent Elodie Cyr thought. Old socks, worn throughout Hell Walk at the end of Recon.
She’d become inured to such smells during active duty, first as a Marine, and then later when she joined the Navy’s special forces. She’d left the Special Recon Unit four years ago to pursue a career with Navy Criminal Investigation Command, but some things just stuck with you.
Even when you’d rather they not, Ell thought, stifling a sigh.
Her previous life was also responsible for her current situation. She’d been taken hostage with three others, and was now trapped inside an ancient space station with an enviro system that should have been red-tagged before she was born.
The cuffs around her wrists looked like they’d been forged in a prior century, too, but they did the job. The Ziptie nanopackage they’d slapped on her neck before shoving her inside the holding area did the rest. The app blocked the wire in her brain, cutting off all comm
and network access.
On the plus side, she could still walk and talk.
The Zipties they’d used back in the Unit were far more robust. They also infiltrated body mods, rendering them inoperable. They also seized control of the SmartCarbyne lattice that reinforced most spacers’ bodies, imposing paralysis.
The pirates should have gone for the more comprehensive version, but they hadn’t wanted to lug their prisoners’ inert bodies around. If Ell had anything to say about it, their laziness was going to cost them.
She had a stash of breach nanobots tucked in the shaft of her left boot, but with her hands behind her back, she’d have to be a contortionist to reach them. Still, it was worth a try.
She shifted, and the guard’s attention snapped to her.
“Don’t move,” he warned.
“Just trying to get more comfortable.” She kept her voice even, but continued tucking her legs under her.
“Legs straight, now!” he barked, jabbing the service end of his combat rifle at her, and she froze.
“Okay, okay,” she said, extending them back out. “We’re good.”
The guard frowned at her, but didn’t respond. He seemed impossibly young, with a face that looked as if it had never seen stubble.
The hard look in his eyes told her he was well aware of the impression he made, and was determined to overcome what he saw as the stigma of youth.
In the Unit, we would have taught him how to cultivate that misconception and use it to his advantage.
She shook the thought off, resuming her slow perusal of the room. There wasn’t much here that could be used to subdue the guard, but that didn’t stop her from studying its confines.
Her focus shifted abruptly when she felt a faint nudge against her shoulder. She kept her eyes trained on the baby-faced guard while she let herself lean against her fellow prisoner.
Fingers brushed against her wrist, followed by the sharp scrape of metal as a piece of wire tapped against her palm. Her expression remained unchanged, but she felt a flush of satisfaction as she wrapped her fingers around it.
Well done, Quinn, she thought.
Charles Quinn was still junior enough to be called ‘probie,’ though Ell didn’t. The NCIC office on Hawking was understaffed at the moment, so it was just the two of them, and he didn’t need the hazing.
Besides, she’d take one Quinn over three average workers any day. The man was resourceful, and had impressive recall.
This tiny scrap of wire was the perfect example. She’d mentioned her skill with ancient mechanical locks once in passing, but he’d obviously remembered it. Better yet, he looked for a way to take advantage of it.
As she bent the wire into two opposing ninety-degree angles, Quinn worked to distract the guard.
Nodding to the fourth person they’d taken prisoner, he asked, “Don’t you think you should check on her? A hostage is no good to you if she’s dead.”
Ell’s fingers traced the upper portion of the lock, gently easing the wire in and applying upward pressure. She felt the ratchet lift.
The guard glared at Quinn. “She’s fine. Now shut up.”
Holding the wire in place, Ell flexed her hand, pressing against the cuff. She felt the teeth begin to slowly slide through the opening.
“I don’t see her breathing,” Quinn’s voice sounded doubtful. “Couldn’t you at least scan her?”
The wire slipped. Ell relaxed her hand on an inhale, wiggling her fingers on the exhale. She tried again. Three more teeth slid through the ratchet and Ell palmed the wire while working her wrist free of the shackles.
“I said,” the guard stepped closer, aiming his pulse rifle at Quinn’s forehead. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
“He’ll be quiet,” Ell told the guard hastily, then leaned into Quinn, using the movement to reach her hand behind his back. “Stand down.”
He nodded and slumped slightly forward, the action a cover to give her better access to his bound wrists.
By the time she had Quinn freed, her shoulders ached. Ell sucked in a slow, deep breath and readied herself to do it all again—this time, to free the man on her right.
Quinn, miming still-bound hands, did what he could to draw attention from her. He cleared his throat. The pirate shot him a narrow-eyed look.
“Our people are coming. When they get here, shit’s going down,” Quinn said, his tone calm and level. “There’s no way you’re going to win this.”
Before he could continue, the guard scoffed. “What, you think you’re someone important? You’re just a glorified cop, man.”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “NCIC still goes through basic and advanced, just like everyone else, kid. And then the real training begins.”
That’s it. Keep distracting him, Ell silently encouraged, as her shoulder made contact with the major seated to her right.
She and Rafe went way back. While she’d been with the Unit, Rafe Zander had flown Shadow Recon. He’d been responsible for hauling Ell’s ass out of many a hot zone, back in the day.
Like her, he’d moved on. Unlike her, he’d stayed in the same Navy track. He’d risen to the rank of major, and now commanded an entire squadron.
To her left, Quinn tried a more persuasive tone.
“You know the Navy’s looking for us. You have four naval personnel here.” He shook his head. “If you let us go now, it’ll go easier on you when they get here.”
Using her fingers against his forearm, Ell quickly tapped out a code she knew Rafe would understand, one all Unit operators and Shadow Recon pilots knew. Within seconds, she felt his bound hands brush against hers, and she went to work.
The guard glowered at Quinn, waggling his pulse rifle threateningly. “Who’s got the gun and who’s trussed up tighter ‘n cargo in a net, huh, asshole?”
Quinn walked a tightrope with the guard, alternately persuading and goading.
At times, Ell thought she should mentally rename Baby Face to Red Face. Just when she began to worry Quinn had provoked the guard too far, he backed off, only to begin again a few seconds later.
The technique was the perfect distraction.
Right up to the moment Rafe’s shackles hit the ground with a soft clang.
What the—?
Ell’s stomach plummeted, dismay stabbing through her at Rafe’s unexpected clumsiness.
The guard broke off, shooting a suspicious look their way. Motioning to Ell and the major, he ordered, “Move away from each other. Slowly, now.”
Ell moved toward Quinn, while Rafe shuffled in the opposite direction. He managed to make more noise with his cuffs, and Ell realized he was doing it to give her an opening.
Ell took it.
Using the man’s momentary distraction, she launched her attack. With the flick of a wrist, her handcuffs went slicing through the air, a crude form of nunchaku.
Military-grade picosensors woven throughout her body kicked in as she exploded to her feet, boosting reflexes far beyond the human norm. Quinn and Rafe were right behind her.
Quinn dove for the weapon Ell’s handcuffs had sent flying when they wrapped around the guard’s wrist. Rafe raced for the downed specialist in the corner.
Ell drove her right shoulder into the guard’s abdomen, hand crossing to wrap behind his opposing knee, jerking him off his feet. Instinctively, the guard tried to roll out from under her. She allowed him a half turn before grabbing his arm and forcing it forward.
Snaking one hand under his armpit and the other around his neck, she levered him into a bow and arrow choke hold.
His face already red from exertion, his eyes went wide when he realized his air supply had been cut off. He began to struggle, but then Quinn was there, the guard’s rifle aimed unerringly at the man’s face.
“Freeze,” the investigator barked, and then shrugged with an evil grin. “Or don’t. Your call.”
Wisely, the young guard froze.
She released her hold about his neck and reached for the Ziptie hidden in the shaft
of her boot, while Rafe used their discarded cuffs to bind the guard. She waved the nanopackage at the major before slapping it against the back of their prisoner’s neck.
“He had plenty of opportunity to call for reinforcements before I ziptied him,” she warned Rafe.
He shook his head. “He didn’t.” The major jerked his chin at the guard. “Look at his face. It never even occurred to him to call for help.”
Ell glanced down at the guard and realized Rafe was right. The guard’s face had reddened once more, only this time in embarrassment at the major’s words.
The look in his eyes—about the only expressive thing allowed him under the influence of Ell’s more comprehensive Ziptie—clearly telegraphed his dismay.
Shaking her head, she gave Baby Face a pat on the cheek, and then rocked back on her heels. Careful not to cross Quinn’s line of fire, she rolled to her feet.
Rafe shot her an unreadable look. “You ready to get out of here, Sarge?”
Ell couldn’t quite hide her flinch at his use of her old rank, but she covered it by motioning to the fourth prisoner. “Okay, fine. I’ll get the door. You grab her.”
Rafe lifted a brow. “You forgotten the way we do things in the Navy? Last I recall, majors give sergeants orders, not the other way around.”
Ell scowled at him. “I’m not a sergeant any longer,” she reminded him. “You’re combat; I’m NCIC.”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” he said, amusement coloring his tone as he stepped toward their prone companion.
Narrowing her eyes, she stood there a moment, studying him. Rafe’s actions weren’t adding up. She wondered what side game he had going on that he wasn’t telling her.
He shot her a knowing look, which told her exactly nothing other than he knew his actions had her mystified.
Ell shook her head, dismissing Rafe and turning to Quinn. She motioned for the door. “You know there is a good chance they have at least one more standing outside. They hear the door opening and they’ll have weapons drawn before you can get a bead on them.”
Operation Cobalt – A Military Science Fiction Thriller: The Biogenesis War Files Page 10
