Bombardier - The Complete Trilogy

by SD Tanner

  Since being with Mariana, the voices had become quieter. Dunk Two’s attitude towards her worried him so much that he now carried a Burner handgun concealed under the belt of his tunic. Removing it from the holster, he placed it onto the table next to the chair. Nothing made any sense anymore. Since Ark Three had left he found himself increasingly alone in a world he wasn’t sure he belonged in. Leaning over and settling his head onto Mariana’s lap, he wished he understood what was happening to him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:

  Friend in Need

  (Granger)

  Crouching in the forest nearest the wall, he was using old-fashioned binoculars, scanning the small houses in front of them. Parker had cobbled together a mismatched set of Navigator gear from the pieces they’d managed to steal over the years. They’d never found any armor, only a helmet, visor and hydraulics. Parker was wearing the full-face helmet, which looked strangely out of place with the thick rubbery suit containing the hydraulics. The wall surrounding CaliTech was behind neat rows of small houses with one and two person vehicles parked next to them. Less than a mile away from where they were hiding was the main entrance.

  It was three o’clock in the morning, a time when most sane people were asleep. A further two hundred men and women were hiding in forests next to the entrances on the east and west side of CaliTech. The plan was for his group to break through the main gates. According to Parker, they were the furthest away from the Navigator barracks situated in the north. Outside of the large double gates was a statue of two men, one dressed in Navigator armor and the other in an old style military uniform. Legend had it that Colonel Boris Meecham was absorbed by one of the enormous creatures that controlled the army of critters. Between him and the cop who had become a Navigator, they’d died blowing it apart.

  Next to the large double gate was a side door. The walls on either side had mounted remotely controlled laser and machine guns. Parker told them the main building could be put into lockdown, meaning the windows would be shuttered turning it into a closed box. That didn’t affect their mission. They had to make it into the primary medical building located behind the main one. Once they cleared the gate, they only had to survive half a mile before they would be inside of the medical building.

  Parker was slowly turning his head from left to right and then back again.

  “What do you see?”

  “Nothing unusual.”

  Having no idea what was normal for CaliTech, he elbowed Parker sharply in the ribs. “Not helpful.”

  Parker’s voice sounded slightly tinny through the helmet speaker, but he was clearly amused. “Oh, right. The gates used to be manned by navs, but since the uptick in space prep they’ve gotten pretty sloppy.” Pointing above the gates, he said, “Those mounted guns are controlled remotely. There’s a bank of security operatives monitoring them twenty-four seven. If they see us, they’ll cut us down. They’re pretty effective weapons.”

  His relaxed tone seemed at odds with what he was saying. “Soooo?”

  Still sounding amused, Parker chuckled. “Oh, right. That sounds bad. I’ve worked the security shift and it’s a slack gig. Every active cam has a screen in the security room. They display on a wall at the front with rows of desks facing them. The guards are supposed to watch, but nothing ever happens so we usually played cards or slept…” Seeming caught up in his reminiscing, he chuckled again. “I hooked up with one of the women on the same duty shift. We used to sneak off to the break room…good times.”

  Wishing he would stay focused, he asked, “So, you’re saying we can just walk up to the gate?”

  “Going up to the gate is no problem, but opening it is. My chip has been deactivated.” Parker patted the portable missile launcher by his side. “The side door is on a heavily magnetized lock so this is the only key we have.”

  “So, we blast the door open and get shot at by the remotely controlled guns?”

  Placing his hand on his back, Parker’s laugh sounded tinny. “Have a little faith. We’ll go up to the door together. I’ll take out the remote guns then you can blast the door. Make sure the other two teams on the east and west side blast their doors after yours. It’ll take security a while to scramble, and even when they do they’ll have three gates to worry about.”

  Nothing about Parker’s plan sounded good to him. The other teams were creating a distraction so his twenty men could break into the medical center. Once they were inside then those teams would run back into the forest. It took up to an hour to transform into a Bombardier and there were only three machines. The teams would have to hold their ground until they could bring out the newly created Bombardiers. It was a flaky plan and there was a good chance none of them would make it out alive.

  Chewing on the thumb of his combat glove, he vaguely noticed it tasted sour and dry. “I dunno about this, Parker. If you don’t get those guns down then we’re not even gonna make it through the gate.”

  This time Parker slapped his back hard, making him fall forward. “You worry too much, old man.”

  Putting his hand out to stop his fall, he returned to his crouched position. “I’m younger than you.”

  Parker snorted. “Then act your age and do something stupid.”

  The man crouched next to him muttered loudly, “This guy is crazy.”

  Unable to disagree with the diagnosis, he rose slightly on his haunches, waving at the others to follow him. “Team West, Team e E ast. We’re on the move. Get ready to go in less than ten minutes.”

  “Roger that,” Eric replied. “Good luck.”

  Rising fully to his feet, he began quietly jogging towards the line of houses. Each one had a narrow alleyway between them. His team spread out, each man silently moving between the houses in a low crouch. All that could be heard was the light scraping of metal against metal on their weapons. Like the others, he’d taped the straps and ammo, hoping it would muffle the sound when they needed to move quickly.

  To him they sounded like twenty men storming their way towards CaliTech, but to someone unaware of their presence, the whisper of fabric and slight creaking of the ground beneath their feet would be taken as the sound of wind. Without breaking his step for even a moment, he swiftly passed by the houses, noting they were no more than prefabricated trailer homes. With the houses so close together, every curtain was drawn tightly closed.

  Passing row after row of homes, the last opened to a strip of shops on either side of the road leading from the main gates. The famous statue loomed high into the night and the somber faces of the two men stared over the small city. As he passed the foot of the statue, he noticed a plaque glowing against the darkness of the night.

  These men had been legends, saving mankind from a fierce and ruthless enemy. What happened to their world? Once filled with men and women willing to die rather than surrender, where were they now? Through no fault of his own, he could be dead in minutes, his children thrown to the winds of fate. A melancholy that dogged his life threatened to overwhelm the danger of the moment, making him want to sit at the foot of the statue and ask where they’d gone wrong. Shaking his head to clear it of the clutter of emotion, he tightened his jaw. Finally reaching the grey-colored plain door, he looked along the wall where his men were now lined.

  “Hold your fire,” Parker whispered.

  With an ease that wasn’t human, Parker jumped up the wall, grasping the top with one hand. Swinging his other arm up, he caught the end of the remote gun, yanking it sharply. The barrel bent downward, making it useless. Dropping to the ground, he moved to the next gun. There were six visible guns close to the door, but he’d been told there were more behind the wall mounted on the top of buildings. CaliTech was a fortress never to be compromised, especially not by a poorly armed team of renegades.

  From fifty yards away, Parker raised his arm, waving at him to blow the door. Raising the missile launcher, he took aim. The explosion lit up the night, sending a shockwave of sound that destroyed the silence. Without waiting for the
smoke to clear, he ran through the door. Following Parker’s plan, he sprinted to the left intending to stay clear of the main building. Nine of the team would follow him. The other ten would run to the right, giving the remote guns two targets.

  On cue gunfire erupted from the guns mounted on the walls and roof of the main building. Dirt was spitting around him as each round missed.

  “Go! Go! Go!”

  His order was redundant, but shouting was all he could do to expel the fear threatening to immobilize him. Another thing Parker told them was to run far apart while jagging their movements left and right. They were running through a hail of bullets and all they could do was make themselves a difficult target.

  Moving his leg awkwardly to the left, his torso threatened not follow, almost making him lose his balance. Next to him, one of the men did fall, rolling back onto his feet and continuing his sprint. Suddenly the night lit up as spotlights around the compound flicked on. The unexpected brightness brought to life every pebble and blade of grass in front of him. Hammering into the wall of the main building, his shoulder skidded against it as he sprinted on. Parker was ahead of him, already in the quadrangle between the buildings.

  Waving his arms as he ran, Parker was shouting. “Hold your fire! Hold your fire!”

  It was another one of his ploys to survive the night. Navigators rarely engaged in real battle, instead they ran endless training exercises. There was a good chance security would assume this was just another one. If they were lucky then they wouldn’t shoot Navigators in training.

  Sprinting across the grassy quadrangle, he tried to guess if he still had nine men or less with him. Copying Parker, he waved his arms. “Hold your fire!”

  The doors to the medical center were directly ahead, but they could only be unlocked with a chip that none of them had. Parker was already in front of them, using his elbow to slam the lock. His hydraulics weren’t armored, so they offered limited protection.

  “Frack!”

  He slammed into Parker. “What?”

  “Busted my elbow.”

  It meant Parker was now lame, reducing their already weakened position. Reaching past him, he pushed on the door, feeling it swing open. “Doesn’t matter. Door’s open.”

  Using his other shoulder, Parker slammed into the interior door. This one led to a reception area. Parker then turned right, grunting in pain as he slammed open another door. Bodies were following him, stumbling against his back every time he slowed waiting for Parker to open another door.

  Now weaving as he ran, Parker almost lost his footing with every step. “You ok?”

  Parker reply was a manic laugh, making him wonder if the man was enjoying breaking his bones. There were no guns in the brightly lit corridor, and finally stopping at one of the doors, Parker flicked his head at it.

  “Shoot it open. I’m all outta bones.”

  Raising his shotgun, he fired at the lock on the door. When it sprang open, Parker slipped inside. Behind this door was a waiting room with chairs lined up against the wall. Seeing another door, he raised his shotgun again, shooting out another lock.

  Twelve men joined him, staring in awe at the three large floor-to-ceiling cylinders. “Do you know how to use these?”

  “No, but someone will come.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Resting his rear against the hooded desk with a console inside of it, Parker had his hands against his forearms, holding them up. “Because the medics weren’t happy when they shut down the program. They love doing this shit. It’s their life’s work.”

  To prove Parker right, a woman hesitantly walked through the broken door. “Parker?” When he lifted his helmeted head towards her, she ran towards him. “What have done to yourself?”

  Once she’d pulled off his helmet, Parker gave her a boyish grin. “Busted myself.” Winking at her, he asked, “Little help?”

  She was a slightly built woman with a shock of dark hair. Shaking her head and smiling, she reached behind the hooded desk, pulling out a large set of scissors. “Hold still while I cut you out.”

  Six of his men were standing guard next to the doorway, while another six began dragging cupboards across it. Glancing back at Parker, he asked, “What now?”

  Quickly snipping through Parker’s shirt, the woman didn’t look up from what she was doing. “I know what he wants. You’ll need to hold that door for an hour.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  Peeling away his shirt, she finally looked back at him. “Because Parker might be an idiot, but he’s my idiot.”

  Once the door was blocked with as much furniture as they could find, two of his men and Parker were standing naked inside of the chambers. Parker’s girlfriend had inserted needles at various points on their bodies.

  Standing behind the hooded desk, she asked, “Are you ready?” When the three men confirmed by nodding, she said, “Here we go.”

  As a green light flashed over each of the chambers Parker’s delighted laughter echoed around the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:

  Half a Life

  (Ark Three)

  Commander Casey looked strange. Not only was she out of uniform, but the colors swirling around her body were pinkish. Although a Bombardier’s sight lacked the granularity of human vision, they could assess a person’s wellbeing by the light emanating from their bodies. Most people had a soft yellowish glow, but Casey’s was tinged pink.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?”

  “As if there’s something funny about me.”

  Casey had been Commander of the Navigator Army for over a decade, running it with a quiet efficiency no one ever questioned. Sitting in the living quarters of the Command Battleship, they were close to Earth. He’d been alone for the long flight, monitoring the ship while it hurtled through space. Casey had left standing orders that, as the ship’s Captain, his orders were to be followed. Assuming he belonged to Casey’s elite guard, the ship had been allowed to pass through a deep grid of Navigator assault ships and Battleships around Earth. Now only hours from orbit, Casey had finally woken from stasis.

  Eyeing her curiously, he asked, “Why are you doing this?”

  Pulling a sensor suit from a shelf, she began unzipping the jacket of her Navigator tracksuit. “Doing what?”

  “Taking me to CaliTech.”

  “I want this war to end.”

  “So do I, but what’s your excuse?”

  Not bothering to turn away from him, she stood half-naked while she ripped open the Velcro straps on her sensor suit. “Didn’t Tank tell you?”

  “All he said was you’re willing to swear allegiance to me once the Dunks are gone.”

  “And I will.”

  After strapping herself into the jacket, she began wriggling out of her trousers.

  “But why? I know we’ve never argued, but I can’t say I know you well.”

  Finally fully dressed in her sensor layer, she sat down on the edge of the bed, digging under it for her boots. Once she put them on, clipping each firmly to her slim ankles, she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees.

  “Let’s be honest with one another. I’m not a wartime commander. I mean, I’m good at my job, but leading the Navigators against the critters isn’t anything I’ve ever done before.”

  “Neither have I. And if you don’t think you’re up to the job then you could always resign.”

  Twisting her hair tightly, she clipped it against her skull, making a feature of her high cheekbones and deep set eyes. “I know, but there’s no one else.” Leaning forward again, she gave him a rare smile. “This isn’t my war. It belongs to you and Tank. I want you to bury the hatchet with the Dunks and make peace. Then you can lead the navs and Boms against the critters.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I’ll be with you, but it’ll take all three of us to win this war. Tank has experience fighting the critters, plus he’s the longest serving soldie
r there is.” Flicking her chin at him, she said, “The troops will follow you. Look at what the Boms are doing right now. They waited for you and now they’re fighting on your orders. The navs will too.”

  “What’s your role?”

  “I’ll run the logistics like I always have.” Seeing his confused expression, she added, “I’ve never been to war, Ark. I’ve run a peacetime force. That’s mostly training, equipment and supplies.” Reaching her hand towards his knee, she touched it softly. “We can’t afford to lose this fight. If I’m not the best person to lead it then I’m willing to step aside.”

  Casey hadn’t been Commander for over a decade by lacking ambition, so her argument wasn’t stacking up. She was far from battle hardened, but other than Tank that was true for everyone. The Bombardier Army had already proven they would follow him into hell, and she was right to say the Navigators would fall in behind them. What she was saying was true, but he felt something was missing.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Sighing, she looked away and her forehead creased with worry. “I…I’m sick. Very sick.”

  “Are you dying?”

  When she nodded, he reached his own hand to hers. “I’m sorry.”

  Swallowing hard, she shook her head. “There’s more. Tank and I…well, you know. Anyway, we have a child. He’s only one year old and living with my mother on Earth. Tank promised me you’d take him, keep him safe.”

  Leaning back in surprise, he said, “You’re doing this for your son.” When she nodded, he asked, “What else did Tank promise you?”

  “He said you would take him to Tracha and train him. Nothing is guaranteed in this universe and Earth isn’t safe. I don’t want to leave him there, not with the critters being back.”

  “How long do you have?”

  “The medics aren’t sure, but…” Her words trailed away and he got the feeling she was already on borrowed time.

  “Can’t they help you?”

  She shook her head. “It’s a result of being in space for too long. By the time I made it back for a medical it was too far advanced.”