Mercenary

by Dennis Young

  She extended her hand and Scarbach took it. He winced at the firm grip. “Feel that? Let me explain what it means. We’re partners. You supply the creditmarks, we supply the blood and guts. I’ll find work, you find ways to meet our needs in materiel and goods. No backing out. No double-crossing. No questions. We’ll tell you what we need, provide you a copy of the receipt, and you can work it into your business budget. You might even make a little on these… adventures.

  “You owe Talice and her team a big one, and instead of making you our next target, you get to ride along safely. Any questions?”

  “Ah…” Scarbach looked to Talice, then back to Mac. “Exactly… what is it you do?”

  Mac chuckled. “I was Talice’s drill instructor. That means I’m even tougher than she is. And she’s tougher than anyone you ever want to have holding your hand again.” She held his gaze for a long moment.

  “Right… just wanted to be sure I understood.”

  Mac nodded. “Good. We’ve started some modifications on the ship, should be ready in a few days. Then we’re headed back to see about rescuing your friends and family.”

  Scarbach nodded to his SLATE. “Message this morning. They’ve doubled their price and said they would start shooting people if they don’t get the ransom in seventy-two hours.”

  Mac looked over her shoulder to Talice.

  “See if you can extend it to five days. Tell ’em you’ll need time to get the withdrawal approved,” said Talice.

  Scarbach shook his head. “Not a chance. This has dragged on now for nearly thirty days.”

  “Overtime for the enhancements on Bird One, then,” said Mac. “You’re gonna pay, one way or the other.”

  Talice glanced to her left. “Rory?”

  “Armaments have arrived, but not installed yet. Tech is in diagnostics. Shielding’s done. Briggs is still trying to figure out where to put the scooters, not to mention Mac’s hoverchair.”

  “Sounds like you need a bigger ship,” said Scarbach.

  “Fine, you can buy us one,” replied Talice. She dug out her SLATE. “Shall I start looking on the market?”

  “Make whatever calls you need to make, if you want your family alive,” said Mac, still holding Scarbach’s hand in hers. “We need that ship ready in forty-eight hours.”

  * * *

  The hangar wasn’t much to look at, but it was cheap, and big enough to house Bird One. Workers swarmed over the ship, cables running to and from diagnostic equipment scattered around the hull. Ollie, Rory, Briggs, even Niky hoisted belts of ammunition into loaders as the new flight crew spoke quietly aside. Talice and Mac watched from an office level above.

  “This is costing a fortune,” said Talice quietly, turning her back to the work below, locking eyes with Mac’s. “We’re dead meat if we don’t pull this off.”

  Mac was non-committal. “You wanted adventure, Princess. We’re mercs now, private business.”

  “Which reminds me.” Talice called up a commtext. “Recognize this address?”

  Mac glanced at the readout. “Black Hole. Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

  “Special-Ops of Special-Ops,” said Talice. “Off-the-record stuff Marines aren’t supposed to do. Or even know about.”

  “We never made it that deep, did we?” Mac shuddered. “Nasty covert stuff, all but illegal. Assassinations. Stuff like that.”

  Talice glanced below, thinking. “Is it something we want to consider?”

  “Not unless you have a death-wish.”

  “Working for Scarbach provides a rather risky clientele, don’t you think? The guy’s sleazy, and I don’t really trust him. We do this and make it work, either we continue to work with him or we’re on his bad neighbor list.”

  Mac thought for a moment. “If he makes money on our operation, whether it’s by handing over creditmarks or goods, or maybe just a write-off, he won’t do anything. We’ve got too many connections with the military. He could make serious money working with us on some of those projects.”

  Talice turned and leaned on the railing. “This makes me feel dirty. It’s like fucking for money.”

  “What are you gonna do, Princess? My advice is to choose your offers wisely. We can do jobs no one else can and make a living.”

  Talice nodded, dropped her gaze away, and sighed. “All I wanted to be was a Marine.”

  “You’re still a Marine in your heart, and that’s what will keep you going. That, and me.”

  “Yeah, you rode my ass pretty well through Trooper training.” Talice grinned. “I guess I can listen to you a bit more.”

  Mac nodded below. “Let’s go do some real work. You need to get your hands dirty for a while.”

  * * *

  Bird One…

  The Harpoon class is a long-range assault ship, designed to travel in planetary atmospheres as well as intermediate-range interplanetary voyages.

  Currently relegated to secondary missions in the military (particularly Marine and Planetary Space Fleet), the Harpoon class served for twenty years as the main component for ground operations, landings, and troop support.

  In standard configuration it is equipped with a limited on-board infirmary, sling-beds for up to thirty soldiers, or ten individual cabins (executive model). Additional facilities are head/shower, armory, deployment area/ equipment bay, and ready room.

  The Harpoon class can also be configured as a hospital ship, Command and Control, ground support, or general-purpose transport.

  The crew complement is three: Pilot, Co-pilot/Nav, and Eng/Tactical, all situated in the forward cockpit, which has full facilities for the crew.

  Standard armament is two electrically-driven, laser-sighted, forward-firing 30mm Hellbores, capable of firing two thousand rounds per minute. Each Hellbore is of the rotating seven-barrel type, provided with 5000 rounds of ammunition: AP, HE, or Scatter-shot. It is not recommended these guns be fired in bursts of more than ten seconds, due to barrel overheating and creep.

  Update: Later installed versions of the Hellbore were cryogenically cooled, eliminating this limitation.

  Secondary armament may be mounted in the wing sections, consisting of one (1) each 10mm Minigun in a semi-retractable turret, with a front-to-back sweep of sixty degrees and an elevation/depression range of eighty degrees. These weapons are controlled by the Eng/Tactical officer from the cockpit.

  The Harpoon class has six (6) hardpoint attachments which can support up to five hundred kilos each, and may be used for ordnance, fuel, cockpit/troop area air supply, equipment packages, or other necessities, based on mission requirements.

  The hull is Graphene/PPT plated, titanium-alloy construction.

  Shields are RM-1 fully-adjustable, micro-electronic disruption type, working on the simple principle of old-style impact armor, that distributes the force of a blow over a larger area. Note that shields can only be used beyond planetary environments or in near-vacuum areas.

  The Harpoon class has multi-stealth capability in both atmospheric and vacuum operational configuration.

  The Harpoon class ships are rugged and dependable, having matured through a continuing upgrade program. The ships are currently being phased out of duty, replaced with the incoming Valkyrie class vessels. Many Harpoon ships have been decommissioned and sold on the civilian market, after being stripped of weapons and classified equipment.

  * * *

  They held the briefing in a corner of the hangar, a map hung on the wall and three SLATES with views of the compound where the hostages were held.

  The flight crew sat bunched together at a table. Abie, the pilot, was a farm girl, four-year Marine pilot and a natural at it, Mac had said. Beyond flying, talking about flying, and reading about flying, she had next to no social interests.

  Will Thomas was known to Talice. He was the co-pilot and navigator on their disaster of a mission that had gotten Cowley killed. She had no issues with him, and was glad at least one of the trio was familiar with what lay ahead.

  Jamal
Orlando, Olde Earth Mexican by descent, was the Eng/Tactical, a good tactician, and quick with his guns. But not too quick, fortunately.

  Thomas and Orlando doubled as the medtechs for the trip, as well, both having been Army field medics. Talice tried not to hold against them that they weren’t Marines, then laughed at herself.

  Mac was certain they were the best available not currently in the Service, and Talice was willing to go along. Truth be told, she was nervous about returning to the hostage location. She knew the bad guys would be waiting, likely reinforced, and their only chance of saving anyone, including themselves, was Bird One and its crew. But she’d sworn to bring Cowley home, regardless how the mission went. Marines didn’t leave Marines behind. For any reason.

  “The compound is basically a semi-underground mud-brick structure,” she was saying, pointing to the target circle on the map. “Estimated personnel fifteen to twenty, with a hostage count of at least fifteen. Three of those are family of our benefactor.” She passed Rory and Briggs a look. “So be careful who you shoot.” A weak chuckle went around the crowd.

  “They have AP rounds, small artillery of an unknown type, and likely a mobile gun platform. They’re good. They kicked our butts, but that’s because we weren’t ready. This time we are.”

  She turned the three SLATES around to face the team, and they gathered round. “We’re going in from the west, Bird One approaches from the south, makes a pass, then another from the north. We move closer in between.” She changed the view on the SLATES. “Those passes are distraction only, to kick up enough dust to cover our approach. After that, Bird One stands off to take out anything mobile that gets away. Rory and Briggs will handle the SmartGuns we’ve recently inherited. Junior,” she nodded to Jian Hsu, “and Ollie will cover, I’ll be on scouting with Bělinka. Nikolay will make sure their comm is jammed and put pretty pictures in their system, so they don’t know we’re coming. Dosu will cover him. Mac will monitor from the drones and give us heads-up as needed.”

  Briggs stood. “First thing is to find that artillery, or missile launcher, whatever it is, and take it out. Our guess is, it’s hidden among the hostages. That means Bělinka gets in close enough for a shot with her FunGun.”

  Jian raised his hand. “Her… what? Sorry, sir.”

  “EMP,” replied Briggs. “Short range projector, but it can knock out the electronics for at least ten minutes. Rory and I will handle any mobile units.”

  “They will be certain to use the hostages as shields. Ollie is our marksman and will handle that. We’ve got to take out as many as possible before they can get to cover.”

  Mac moved her hoverchair to Talice’s side. “If they get into the hostages and use them as cover, they’ll likely be willing to negotiate for their own lives. These people are in it for money. They’re not fanatics. But…” She met every set of eyes with her own. “Once that’s done, we’re to make sure they don’t get away with it. No prisoners. Understood?”

  Nods and looks all around. Talice watched, looking for hesitation and saw little.

  “This is our first mission as a team. Rory, Briggs, Bělinka, Dosu, Mac, and I have fought together for a dozen missions in the Corps. We know each other well and trust each other fully. I know this is gonna be scary for you. Hell, it’s scary for us, too. Just do your job. If you need help, call for it. We’re in this together, right?”

  “Hua!” The chorus sounded off the walls.

  Talice spoke, a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “Pack up and get ready to roll. Abie, get Bird One hot. We lift in fifteen minutes.”

  * * *

  Talice sat alone in her cabin. The nearly-subliminal rumble of the engines reminded her too much of many things: being a Marine: her last mission as such: her first mission as a merc. Both disasters. Holy fuck, I damn near died in both of those.

  A bottle of super-hydration fluid dangled from her hand, unopened. Her mind wandered, and she wasn’t sure why. She knew she should be focused, and while the mission was foremost in her thoughts, the usual urgency simply wasn’t there.

  Because we’re not Marines. The camaraderie isn’t there. At least not yet.

  She thought about how it had been early in her Trooper training. Was it like this? Did we just not have that esprit-de-corps until later? Hell, I can’t remember. But it sure seemed like it was there from the beginning.

  She popped the top and drank the contents down, grimacing at the taste. Stuff is like… well, let’s just say it’s hard to swallow if you get too much in your mouth all at once. She chuckled, thinking of Sheila, Scarbach’s secretary, and her “duties”.

  Good crew. We’ll make it a team, Mac and me. Rory and Briggs are solid, Ollie’s freaking bionic eyes make him a god with a sniper piece. Bělinka, Niky, Dosu, even Junior. Hell, we’re all Marines. Or were. But we know the drill. She patted the hull, laying her hand on it for a moment, feeling the power of the engines as they pressed through the upper atmosphere.

  Never had a ship I could call my own. Well, our own. Damn. Fucking mercenaries on a mission. We can do this. I know we can.

  She stood and stripped down to her “perv-undies”, sprayed the cleaner, and the bodysuit melted away. They were back in the old-style HCSs, as they were the best available to civies. That was okay. She was more comfortable in them than the new “slick-skins”. They were a bit heavier, but roomier, too, and just felt more like a Trooper’s gear. She toweled down quickly and slid into her nightshirt.

  Eight hours. Better get some sleep or I’ll be the walking dead. Literally.

  She sat, SLATE in hand to review the mission parameters, but her mind wasn’t into it. She set it aside, stretched out onto the bed, recalling her final conversation with Major Fawkes, before she left the Base for the last time.

  “There are missions the Marines can’t do officially. Things needing to be done, and requiring, for lack of a better term, contractors. Private, out-of-the-official-loop professionals who can be trusted to do a job and do it right.”

  Talice had held her breath, knowing what was next.

  “I’m going to speak very bluntly. You don’t know how long you might live. This… thing has taken away your dream job. At this point, you’re angry, frustrated, and pretty much willing to do whatever you have to do to prove it’s not going to beat you. You’ve got maybe five years if you continue your regime of meds, assuming they find no cure. So you have a decision to make about how to spend those five years. If they find a cure, you get a reprieve. If they don’t…”

  Talice had listened with every fiber of her being. She hadn’t asked for this. But she’d taken an oath, and never, in her mind, would she have dishonored it. She always knew sometimes Marines didn’t come home. She accepted that as part of the deal. Part of the Corps.

  “And if you need a team to do a job, I promise I’ll have the best you can get. Just let me know, any time, and I’ll be here,” she’d replied.

  “I know you will, Talice.”

  It was the only time she’d heard him use her first name, other than in an introduction or roll. It hurt. Bad.

  The remembrances faded. She laid her head in her hands. Let out a sob. Shed a tear or two.

  She was a Marine. Didn’t matter what the papers said. She would live like a Marine. If she was lucky, she’d die like one, too.

  There. That felt better.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Here and Now (Part Three)

  To the Job, Sir

  “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night,

  and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”

  Sun Tzu, “The Art of War”

  Mission 282HEBO(2) – Code Name: Sucker Punch…

  Bird One settled off the shore of a small lake, ten kilometers from the target area. The approach had been sub-sonic and fully stealthed. A heavy cloud layer helped, too, and by the time the ship landed, thunder was rumbling in the distance.

  The ramp lowered, and the team deployed quickly, setting up a perimeter of Dosu, Jian, a
nd Ollie. Mac maneuvered her hoverchair to the ramp’s edge and stopped, the sandy shoreline too soft for the chair’s lift fans.

  “All they’d do is dig a hole, then you’d have to pull me out,” joked Mac, as she watched around.

  Talice came to her side, pulse rifle slung across her back and helmet in hand. “Rain moving in, says Abie. Might help as cover.” She trembled, and Mac gave her a look.

  “You okay, Princess?”

  Talice shrugged her shoulders. “Nervous as a fucking cat. Just want to get this done. Find Cowley’s body, if there’s anything left of it. Move on with the job. Get him home.” She hardened her look. “Get all of us home.”

  Mac looked over her shoulder. “Having second thoughts about this line of work?”

  Talice turned upship without answering, calling for Briggs and Rory. Who answered her was Bělinka. “They are arguing with Abie in the cockpit.”

  The Czech woman’s heavy accent had always fascinated Talice. At times, it was nearly impenetrable. People like her and Ollie must practice hours each day. I know their heritage is important to them, but geez…

  Talice laughed. “That must be a sight, Abie with those two mountains of male flesh in one small space. Problem?”

  “She asks, which is the better ship, Bird One or the new Valkyrie class.”

  “Let me guess, Abie is defending Bird One’s honor?”

  Bělinka shook her head. “She is using reverse psychology, and now they’re arguing with each other.” She grinned, and Talice only rolled her eyes.

  Talice moved closer and lowered her voice. “Look… we’re gonna need to get close to this place before the real shooting starts. You and I will have to hunker down and not get shot by Bird One’s passes. We’ll close within fifty meters, then the rest of the way before their north run, to the south side. Don’t get your directions mixed up.”

  “I’ll be right beside you, Captain.” Bělinka snapped off a salute and headed for her backpack.

  Talice continued up the ramp, raised voices coming from the cockpit. Ollie jerked his thumb in that direction, and Talice nodded. She poked her head through the open hatchway. “If you two want in on the action, I suggest we get moving. We need to be in place before dark, so we’ve got about two hours to hike ten kilometers and get in position. Or do I have to get Mac in here?”