"So that's official? And a real threat?"
Ontos looked a bit put upon.
"It's a real threat. No one is going to hurt the staff, though. They mostly treated everyone decently. You'll note I'm regarded with respect, and I was in Operations Management."
Hammill took over. "It's real enough," he said. "Six hundred armed with firearms, another few hundred with wrecking tools, none of the rest working. Some probably would, but without a minimum staff, it's not safe, so they're sitting it out and hugging their oxygen masks. And I was able to put together a . . . ahem . . . mechanized unit."
Jason said, "I can only imagine, and we are grateful, but what about the staff?"
"All evacuated by coercion, except a few dozen who came down to us. We don't trust them anymore than you trust me, of course."
Alex said, "That's a good sitrep. How much control do you have over the miners?"
"Plenty," Ontos said. "Until you find some way to open the armor, they ain't going anywhere."
Elke said, "I will fix that if no one else does."
"Actually," Hammill said with a faint smile, "I think I have that covered. Say when."
Alex looked at Elke, they had a quick conversation of expressions, and he turned back and said, "May as well be ASAP. We're going this way, out onto the ground."
"What's the plan?"
"Plan? We play this part by ear. However, Elke is going to create a distraction. You can bust in and be another distraction while we do what we have to. There will be other distractions shortly thereafter."
Ontos nodded. "That works. We'll go saddle up. I've always wanted to say that."
"How much notice do you need?"
"A few minutes. All the cameras are out in the service way. Mister Joe thinks it's depressurized. He thinks we don't know about the cameras we don't know about, which have been hacked and are showing empty space. He's going to be very surprised. Also that the service door from construction is still functional . . . after moving enough debris."
Ontos seemed a little odd, twitchy and talkative. Alex decided it was because he was so much a hermit. No harm. The man was agitated, but didn't seem to dissemble.
"So we could have come up this way?" Alex asked.
"Eventually," Ontos agreed. "Surrounded by a hundred miners and on camera the entire way, through those airlocks."
"Yeah, this probably was better. So, either I call, or fifteen minutes?" he asked with a glance at Aramis.
"Easy," Aramis said.
"Fifteen minutes after our distraction. You'll know it when you hear it. By the way," Alex added, "How did you find us?"
"You came up the tramway. Only two routes to the surface, and this is the better one."
"Right." That was obvious. The fight and the fatigue was getting to him.
"We'll be ready," Ontos said again, as he turned and left, Hammill following.
Aramis reached back into the lower compartment of his pack.
"So put these on." He held a bundle of rumpled Security shirts, with patches.
Bart said, "That is not believable."
"You'll be amazed."
"Right," Jason said and grabbed one.
Aramis said, "We need a staging area."
Jason said, "I propose the lawyer's office."
"How do you think he'll feel about that?"
Alex said, "To be perfectly honest, I really don't give a shit."
Jason chuckled. "That's Stage Five. Now we just need to get out of it mostly alive."
Jason thought the choice of the lawyer's office was tactically excellent. There weren't many people that way, and those that they encountered were as much second level staff as low end tourists. They did garner a number of looks, though the uniform shirts did seem to quell suspicion for the moment. Weapons were acceptable to most civilians, if carried by people in uniform.
Jason took point, advancing past Aramis at a fast walk. The rest shifted to keep Caron penned in.
He pointed, angled over, and shoved open the door to Bin Rahman's office.
"Hello," he said to the surprised secretary as the rest rushed in. Aramis was past in a blur and into the office in a moment. There was profanity and loud orders and out the man came at gunpoint.
"Ana assif," Jason said. "This is momentary only, and I require your cooperation."
Bin Rahman looked around the team, focused on Caron, and looked open-mouthed.
He said, "I understand, and of course I will do what I can do assist."
"Shukran," Jason said. "However, you can help by doing nothing. You have my apologies in advance for some small indignities."
Shaman stepped up behind him. The man shouted and looked angry before his face went slack and he collapsed. Bart caught him, carried him into his office and laid him on the couch. The secretary looked very nervous, but didn't struggle, deducing the drug had to be nonlethal. He was set down in the chair with his feet propped up.
Alex said, "That is really becoming a disturbing ritual on this trip, and how many more doses do you have?"
"Enough," Shaman said. "I restocked in the mine clinic."
"Of course you did."
Aramis pulled a map up on the wall screen and said, "Right, we're going here, then here, then over here. Ontos is coming in here with his crew. That's frontal from the mine, and will tie up most of the goons. I expect the non-affiliated security will be busy keeping panicking civilians corralled. Elke, you have your distraction ready?"
"Sadly, yes," she agreed.
"Then with all that, we can get to the tower, I hope."
Caron asked, "Then what?"
Aramis said, "Then we fight our way in and you stay behind a body or a hard object."
She looked hesitant.
Alex said, "We have to have you alive for it to work, and this is déjà vu. You can't go down. At this point, we may have to leave injured behind to move fast. The risk of death for a casualty is low, but the risk of capture or detention or death for us and you while up and moving is significant."
"I understand," she said. She didn't look as if she liked it, which was perfectly understandable.
By then, everyone had stripped down their rucks to nothing but weapons and ammo, with necessary communication. This was a combat assault, and there shouldn't be time to be hungry, thirsty or need anything beyond reloads and bandages. Bart and Aramis came through from the back, and Elke grabbed Caron and shoved her that way.
"Toilet, now," she ordered. "Last chance."
The women were back in very short order. Everyone kept the uniform shirts. They knew who they were and the camouflage might help.
With a nod from Alex, Aramis said, "Follow me," and pulled the door.
The mall was pretty much devoid of civilians. That suggested PR was not good, and that Joe wanted a clear field of fire.
Jason said, "We also have no bodies for concealment. We're the only people here."
Shaman said, "This happened in the last five minutes."
"It's not hard to tell where we are at this point."
"The airtight barricade is closed."
"Airtight, armored and likely to have hostiles on the other side."
Caron said, "There's a maintenance hatch to the right. Even more restrictive, but we can try my password. It was abandoned in place once the newer ones were done."
"When did you start helping with the designs of this place?"
"I was thirteen when mining commenced, and I've been helping crunch numbers to learn since then. I started designing structure at sixteen."
"Can we offer you a job?" he quipped.
She looked bemused, but led from the middle as they moved around her. The door was small, at the far edge of the overlapping sections, and had a dusty, older lock.
"No good," she said, after punching in her password.
"What is it? I'll see what I can do." He stepped up and tried an override code.
"Cymru two two three six."
"That's not a very secure password," he co
mmented. "However, I have enough access to change it. It's now my wife's birth year instead. With that changed . . . " he tapped in commands. The user language wasn't quite SysAcc, but he fumbled through it.
"Got it," he said. "Your account still has access. Only your password was restricted. Your uncle should really hire a professional for this."
He tapped again and the door slid open.
"Fast," he added, pulled the jack and darted inside with Shaman.
Caron said, "Now we need to let the miners in."
"Not just yet," Alex said. "We'll wait until we're in position, then let them in as a massive distraction. You realize they are going to trash things and torch the place."
"But they gave their word!"
"Are you still that naïve?"
She clouded up, then admitted, "I don't want to think that will happen. I concede that putting valuables in front of them is likely to lead to some incidents."
They all looked at her.
She looked around at them in return.
"My family developed enough resources to jumpstart colonization of the universe. We developed new sciences. In exchange, my father is dead, and my perverted uncle wants . . . something. The socialists hate me even though I'm creating millions of future jobs. The god damned ecotwits hate me, as if I don't have better qualified and better paid scientists here than they do. The tourists are going to hate me. Most governments hate me. The miners are coming around as long as they get money, and I'm wondering how much damage they'll do.
"At this point," she said, in perfectly cultured English, "I really don't give a shit myself."
Jason said, "You have to stay alive."
"So you don't get a bad reputation?" She sounded pissed at last.
"No," he replied. "Because you deserve to rub everyone's face in it."
She smiled for the second time since her father died.
Chapter 29
Bart was last through, and they were finally back in the dome. Activity appeared fairly normal, though a little quiet and mostly indoors.
Alex said, "So idyllic. We must address that. Elke, now is the season of their discontent."
"Kaboom, kaboom kaboom?" she asked with a toothy grin.
"Kaboom."
She nodded, and pulled out her detonator control, scrolled through several devices she apparently had ready, and brought up the code.
Elke seemed very hesitant, with obvious sadness. Bart supposed for her it was a tragedy. Such a perfectly designed device, but rather than a city, a mine or even a mass of troops, she was using it as only a distraction. She coded the sequence and pressed the firing key.
The explosion was still impressive. The glare was awe-inspiring, even through a polarizing substrate on the glass. That was in part because it reflected off hills, the atmosphere, the ski slope dome and the oblique edges of the main dome struts. The color started as a blue-white with a yellow tinge, immediately cut to a brilliant rose from the polarizing, turned a hideous bright yellow-orange, then faded through red. Barely behind that, a powerful CRACKbang! made the ground bounce, rumble and twist. Bart was a good 15 centimeters off the ground, and his feet stung as he hit. Scheisse. The dome was definitely compromised. He heard a serious of cracks and almost musical clangs as large chunks of the heavy plastic broke free. The response was perfect. Alarms shrieked, people ran, the staff went into disaster mode, grabbing tourists and urging them into buildings designated as shelters. Two gaggles of guards, visible at nearby facilities, sprinted straight toward the casino and a hotel tower.
She had managed to clear the decks of civilians, terrify everyone into hysterics, crack the dome, shake the ground, light the sky all in one go. And now crumbled dirt was raining down on the dome.
"That will be enough to cut a little light and disturb people," she said. "Most of the debris is going to land between here and the first pit."
Caron said, "You know entirely too much about this."
Elke only smiled and said, "I love my work."
Jason said, "I see a problem."
Caron looked up and said, "Yes, the air is stratifying."
Elke said, "Alex had me plan for that. I must reach a building top."
Alex shook his head. "I need you on this assault. I can spare Shaman at this moment."
He said at once, "What am I to do?"
Elke reached into her long bag and pulled out a collapsible anti-armor rocket. It was last generation and too light for modern armored vehicles.
"Do you know how to use this?"
"In theory," he agreed.
"We need a hole in the top, too, to improve ventilation."
"Understood. I believe I can hit the dome from the inside without too much trouble."
"Typical African marksmanship," she said with a toothy grin. "Better sprinkle it with some powder."
"There is more than enough magic in this little pointing stick of yours," he said. "I shall endeavor to poke a hole."
He turned and jogged toward Central Tower. The rest of them moved off the side and down the long ramp-road toward the ground level.
Bart said, "I believe we have achieved a level of panic."
Jason said, "I believe we should dial it up a bit."
Alex said, "Stand by."
Moments later, Hammill's clandestine charges cut the doors.
"They didn't fall," Bart said.
That was when a mining drill crashed through on the ground, in the main tunnel, splintering ceramic foam into jagged shards. Behind it, pulling alongside it, was a standard bucket. Hammill sat in the bucket, his beloved Garand to his cheek, and fired. He jerked in recoil, dust whipped at the bullet's passage, and one of the remaining guards flailed like a rat in a rottweiler's mouth.
That gun was loud. It fired a 7.62mm long cartridge, was it 63 millimeters? That was much more potent than the glorified pistol rounds in the improv carbines. It was probably also a lot less efficient, too. It created bow waves in the translucent atmosphere with every shot.
Then a dozen other miners charged in, dove in relatively well-trained maneuver, and fired ugly little carbines.
Their form didn't appear to be bad, but the carbines had poor sights and worse accuracy. A couple of them got hit as Joe's security rallied.
Bart almost wept in laughter. The mining drill rolled on huge wheels that threw residual dust and anything they rolled over. The bucket loader was not impressive by comparison, but still sufficient to crush men, and right behind them, now pulling into line abreast, was a large pumper. It couldn't be intended for fighting fires, but was likely used to wash debris from a collapse. His estimation was proved correct when the crew started spraying with the turret. The pressurized stream was strong enough to hurl men back like rag dolls, flailing and tumbling.
That did it for the remaining security, who simply turned and ran.
That wasn't all. The next vehicle was some kind of portable power rig, and it was equipped with an air cannon and catapult.
Bart wondered just how badly they'd underestimated the potential threat from the miners. Granted, these were not only the labor, but included many of the managers. Still, it was considerably more sophisticated than they'd anticipated, and still had a massive element of brute force he respected. The combination was disturbingly dangerous. Luckily most of them were allies.
"Well, that is good and bad," Jason commented. "We don't have to fight them here, but we will have to fight them in the offices." A whoomf from the air cannon punctuated his comment, and a delayed bang! emphasized it. They were launching bombs.
Caron said, "Of course my uncle will surround himself. I don't care. I will see the bastard taken down, or there is nothing for me to live for."
Bart said, "That should not be an either or choice. We will see it done."
Ontos came over with several others. He waved for attention as he did so. Bart still covered them with his muzzle for the duration. No one was trusted at this point.
Ontos noticed it, not that Bart was trying to
be discreet.
"Yeah, don't trust anyone. We have a stray group that broke off, and a few other defectors. There's some shooting down in the mine now. Seems they don't like the odds."
"Not unexpected," Elke said. "However, my explosive is limited. I only had the one."
Bart had no idea if she was serious or humorous, but he chuckled despite himself.
Alex asked, "Suggestions?"
Aramis said, "Move fast. What else is there?"
Jason nodded. "Shaman knows our destination, and we should have some commo. Brief as always."
Bart didn't wait for confirmation. He turned and took point.
Horace felt like a salmon. Crowds fled the buildings for "outside" even though they were safer inside. The legitimate security, and their own bodyguards, tried to herd them back in. Luckily, they weren't very effective. He managed to fight his way into Central Tower just as the doors started locking and the pressure seals activated.
Someone with a bullhorn announced, "Please remain calm. There is plenty of oxygen and no danger to the structure of the building. Everyone will be safe . . . "
It seemed to have some effect on those closest to the speaker, and none on those pounding on the doors. That wasn't his problem, though, so he shimmied through the crowd, hoping no one noticed the weapons. One or two glanced down at him, but seemed to assume he was some kind of guard.
Well, he was. Just not the kind they expected.
Through impolite shoving and wiggling he made it to the elevator bank, to find them all locked on the bottom. They'd be unlocked eventually, but that would take time and coordination and he needed to reach the top now.
He really didn't relish a climb up all those stairs. There must be some other way, he thought, and headed back into the staff corridor. That elevator was also blocked. Still, a building this modern and . . .
Yes, the pressure shaft. It was used to get service equipment around in a hurry. He ran over, adjusted the sling on the rocket over his shoulder, and climbed onto the plate. He grabbed the power handle and twisted.
Do Unto Others-ARC Page 36
