Mercenary

by Dennis Young

  No others were found in the basement area, although a couple of incomplete tunnels were located. Briggs took no chances, and simply let loose with a barrage of pulse rifle fire into each one, before anyone was allowed to enter. Nothing was found but piles of human waste, the tunnels obviously dug as latrines.

  “They were holed up here for over thirty days,” said Junior, as he and Talice waited aside while Bělinka continued to probe for traps.

  Talice’s eyes looked around, knowing they’d missed something. “What the hell did they eat? There’s gotta be stores around here somewhere. Find them.”

  Junior’s face fell, and he shouted for Ollie. Together, they started digging around in unchecked corners, one doing the digging, the other covering.

  Bělinka motioned for Talice’s attention, and they stepped apart. “We need to clear the compound. I don’t know how many more traps there are, but we’re not done.”

  Nikolay approached and handed Bělinka a squeeze-bulb of tea, or something like it. “There are fourteen hostages in the room, Captain,” he said. “Also, one died some days ago, they cannot know exactly when. An older man, ill and without his medicines.”

  Talice nodded. “How do you know their number?”

  Bělinka grinned and looked to Nikolay. The Russian shrugged. “We tap out messages to each other.”

  “Messages? How?”

  “Old codes, made by clicks, long and short. It takes time, but someone in there knows it and is a student of comm.”

  Talice shook her head. “Are you talking about Morse Code? Geez, Niky, that’s over a thousand years old! How the hell do you know that?”

  “It is a hobby, and a good thing to know. If I ever get trapped, I can tap messages to the rescuers.”

  Bělinka’s smile turned to seriousness. “It may take another day before I can be certain of opening the doors without killing everyone inside. Or myself.”

  Talice held a hand for pause. “What if we go into the room from another way?”

  Bělinka looked to Nikolay, who nodded then replied. “I can have them check the walls. If they are clear, we can dig.”

  “Do that. We don’t have a lot of time. Eventually the locals will get wind of this and come calling. We need to be out of here by then.” Talice turned. “Ollie! Get on the comm and find out what’s going on in the area. Let me know if anything is hot.”

  Ollie waved and headed up the stairs. Dosu took the cover position as Junior continued to search for stores.

  “What’s this about digging?” Briggs hobbled to Talice’s side.

  Bělinka gestured to the entry. “The doors may be too dangerous to open. My guess is there are traps inside.”

  Nikolay nodded. “They say yes, but they don’t know what they are or how to disarm them.”

  “Then we go through a wall. Get on it, double-time.”

  Bělinka nodded, and took Nikolay’s arm, moving back to the doors. Talice watched with interest.

  “How do we dig?” asked Talice.

  Briggs thought for a moment. “We’d have to make a big enough space to cut through the walls. They’re not much more than low-grade cement, probably reinforced, so that’s not a problem. It’s just clearing enough sand and dirt.”

  “Wonder if Bird One’s landing jets could clear a hole?”

  Briggs grinned. “That could be fun to watch.”

  Talice nodded toward Bělinka, standing with her hand on Nikolay’s shoulder as he knelt and tapped a message on the door. “Are they like… an item?”

  Briggs cocked his head. “Have been since they met. You didn’t know?”

  Talice shook her head slowly.

  “Are you…” Briggs stifled a laugh. “Sorry. I thought you knew.”

  She sighed. “Oh, well…”

  “Don’t worry, Captain, you’ll find your man. Besides, everyone thinks you’re this tough all the time. I doubt they’ve ever considered you… well, normal.”

  Talice gave him the evil eye. “Fuck you very much. Get Abie to roll Bird One over here so we can finish up and go home.”

  * * *

  “Talice, I found Cowley.”

  Mac’s voice roused Talice from her thoughts, watching as Bird One slowly cleared an area from the west wall. She touched her comm switch. “How far and what direction?”

  “About three hundred meters south and a bit to the west. I can set a flare for you.”

  “Good, but not yet. We’re about done digging here and preparing to go in. Any sign of locals on the horizon?”

  “Negative, and Ollie says the airwaves are quiet.”

  “Copy, stand by. Give us an hour or so. As soon as Bird One is finished digging, have Will and Jamal ready the infirmary. Hostages are gonna need a lot of attention.”

  “Anything serious?”

  “Nikolay says no, but we need to treat them like royalty. Scarbach, and all that.”

  “Good point. Ah, the ship is moving away now.”

  “Yeah, I’m watching, remember?” Talice chuckled and closed the link.

  “Clear.” Briggs and Rory slid their way down into the hole created by the ship’s fans. Junior handed down two picks and a shovel. Dosu shed his HCS top armor and eased his bulk into the opening with the others.

  “That’s a lot of man muscle in that little bitty hole,” said Talice.

  Briggs turned, grinning. “That’s what she said.”

  They laughed around. Someone threw a handful of sand at Briggs.

  “Let Nikolay check it first.” Talice motioned him forward as the trio gave him room.

  “The people inside said —”

  “I know what they said, Rory, but I also know I don’t want us blown to hell when we’re this close. Niky, check it out.”

  Nikolay slid down the sandy incline, squeezing past Dosu. He drew out a probe and connected it to a port on his suit’s wrist. He moved to several places on the wall, up, down, both sides, and even below the sand they’d excavated. “Clear, Captain, but the wall is not very sturdy. A small opening would be best.”

  Talice nodded. “We’ll do what we can. Okay, Briggs, start digging, but gently, please.”

  They dug. It took only minutes to break through the wall, and when they had a hole half a meter wide, they paused.

  Briggs stuck his pulse rifle into the opening, the searchlight bright against the darkness. “Holy fuck.” His curse was nearly reverent. “Rory, get this opened so these poor bastards can get some fresh air.”

  Briggs backed away, and Rory swung the pick once more. The wall crumbled until there was a meter-sized hole.

  “No more!” Nikolay waved his arms and Rory set the pick away. Junior passed him a towel, and he wiped his gritty face.

  Two hands appeared from the hole. “Don’t shoot! We’re coming out! Please help us!”

  A cheer went up around the team. Talice clicked her intercom. “Mac, they’re coming out. Prepare to receive rescuees.” She broke the connection and gave everyone a thumbs-up. Then closed her eyes and gave silent thanks.

  * * *

  Talice saw to the survivors’ safe exits from their confinement. She spoke with the medics and assured everyone they would receive whatever treatment was necessary. They were given energy bars and water, all they wanted, and those who needed beds were sequestered in Bird One’s cabins.

  Rory and Briggs, with Junior and Dosu covering, searched the confinement area, brought out the remains of the man who had died, and confirmed everyone was out. Then Bělinka donned her HCS “Duster Suit” and did a full sweep of the interior, marking traps and documenting everything with vid and system readings. There were more than a dozen traps, a couple even in the flooring. By the time she confirmed the place was a deathtrap and likely couldn’t be disarmed, Talice had spoken with Mac and decided they’d level the place once airborne. From about a kilometer up.

  She took time to speak with Tooley, Scarbach’s nephew, the young man who had helped keep some semblance of order during the ordeal, and told hi
m of their agreement with his uncle. Tooley chuckled grimly at Talice’s tale of how their partnership came to be, and said yes, he was aware of Scarbach’s business dealings, and felt those were part of the reason they’d been taken captive.

  It had been a party, he explained, and the hostage-takers swept in, rounded them up and stuffed them in an air-van. The whole operation had taken no more than a few minutes. Tooley surmised it had been planned for a long time, and the leaders simply waited for the right moment.

  “They got their moment, all right,” said Talice, then shook her head. “Sorry, it just occurred to me…”

  Tooley brushed long blond hair from his eyes and listened without comment.

  “Mercs can be the good guys or the bad guys. I’m… we’re all ex-military, and my guess is many of the bad guys were, too. Doesn’t seem right.”

  “People are people,” replied Tooley. “But maybe they didn’t have the right drill sergeant to bust their butts.”

  She cast a look to Mac, her hoverchair surrounded by a half-dozen survivors, quietly talking. “That’s for damned sure.”

  It took nearly all day, but by late afternoon Talice was satisfied they’d done everything they could with their facilities. Fortunately, there were no critical health or physical issues. But it would take more counseling than she even wanted to consider before these people could resume their lives.

  She stood. Back to the job. “Rory, we’re going after Cowley.”

  Rory turned from his conversation with Ollie. “Okay. Let’s take Junior, too.”

  “Get your gear, five minutes. I’ll let Mac know.”

  “Hua, Captain.” Rory whistled for Junior and hustled through the deployment area, his helmet bouncing on his hip.

  Talice eased her way through the crowd to Mac and knelt. “We’re headed out for Cowley. Shouldn’t take more than an hour at most. Have Abie ready to lift when we get back.”

  “Watch out for stragglers.” Mac laid a hand on Talice’s arm. “And have a drink.” Mac winked.

  Talice nodded, rose, slipped through the refugees again, and entered her cabin. She dug out a bottle of S-H and downed it. She had to admit, it helped. Damn bugs are trying to turn me into a husk. Gotta pay Babs a visit when we get back and resupply.

  Five minutes later, she, Rory, and Junior were down the ramp. Ten, and the drone above them dropped a flare a hundred meters distant. It took them another five to reach what was left of Cowley.

  “Just bones and anything inedible,” said Rory, unrolling a body bag.

  “Sons of bitches stripped him and left him here.” Talice gently collected Cowley’s tags from around the bones of his neck. “I thought I recognized some of the gear we salvaged.”

  “A teammate?” asked Junior.

  Talice nodded. “Our first trip here wasn’t so successful. Take a look, kid. This is not how any of us want to end up.”

  Junior knelt beside Talice and mumbled something beneath his breath, then made a sign in the air over Cowley’s remains.

  “Are you… Catholic?”

  Junior nodded slowly. “Raised, but I don’t practice. I just thought it was the thing to do. You okay with it, Captain?”

  “No problem.” Talice smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Let’s get back. Too much open space here,” said Rory. He hefted the bag and they moved out. Talice noticed Junior took the rear, walking backward, never leaving their backs unguarded.

  Maybe the kid is gonna be okay, she thought, trudging through the still-wet sand. Maybe we all are.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Forward, Ho (Part One)

  The Price of Doing Business

  “It is best to win without fighting.”

  Sun Tzu, “The Art of War”

  Enroute to High Station…

  Being a Harpoon-class assault craft, Bird One was a heavy, squat triangle, with the cockpit at the fore and plenty of room in the broad, deep fuselage. Still, with fifteen hostage survivors, Talice’s team, salvaged weapons and other gear, and the two scooters crammed into the hold, it was not the most comfortable of trips back to Anchor Prime.

  Abie put the ship into the Slipstream and cut an hour off their flight time. Mac radioed ahead and had three medivans waiting for their arrival, then spoke to Northland Base and arranged use of their medical facilities. This was to keep media and onlookers away, but also to allow privacy for a while, and an opportunity for the Marines and other services to debrief everyone more thoroughly. “The more we know about these paramilitary groups, the better the Marines can be ready for them,” she told Talice as they huddled in Mac’s cobbled-together niche of screens and drone controls and comm gear.

  “Trying to put us out of a job?” Talice laughed, then called for Tooley. He sat a bit too close, but she let it pass. “I want you to talk to Scarbach and let him know you’re okay. No details, just that you’re on the way home and you’ll see him in a couple of days. You’ll be on a public, unsecured network, so be careful with your words. When you’re done, I want to talk to him, too.”

  She nodded to Mac who set up the call, then Talice handed Tooley a headpiece. “Be calm, just let him know you’re fine. I’ll give you about thirty seconds, then give the headset to me.”

  Tooley nodded, licked his lips, and waited for Mac to put the call through. “Hello… hello, Uncle? It’s Tooley. Yeah, we’re… we’re good. On the way home, should be there in… a while. I’ll see you in a day or two. Yes, we’re all okay. Yeah… here’s Talice.”

  Talice took the headset and held the receiver to her ear. “We’ll be in your office tomorrow afternoon. Don’t go anywhere. We have business to discuss. Got it? Good. See you then.”

  Mac cut the link. Talice nodded to Tooley. The kid smiled nervously and made his way back through the hold.

  Mac turned to Talice and lowered her voice. “I thought you said we were going to his office after we landed and saw the refugees off to the Base.”

  “I did. And we are.” Mac nodded after a moment.

  * * *

  Bird One glided to a gentle landing at High Station Pad Seven. The ramp came down and Briggs led the team out, forming two rows to the first medivan. They loaded quickly, then repeated the procedure for the second and third. Doors slid shut, motors hummed, and off they went, lights flashing and sirens wailing, toward the seclusion of Northland Station and the Marine infirmary.

  Talice came down the ramp with Mac and the flight team. She shook hands with everyone, hugged Briggs and Rory, gave a wistful look into Nikolay’s eyes, then faced Bělinka with a crooked grin. “If he doesn’t please you, send him round to me and I’ll straighten him out.”

  “Oh, no worries, Captain. I can straighten him quite well.” The Czech woman licked her lips salaciously. Nikolay only blushed.

  Talice turned to Abie. “Make sure you’re ready to go within ten days. I’ll get your pay to you in a day or two. Let me know if you need anything. I have a good idea our benefactor will be very cooperative for a while.”

  Abie nodded, then took off for the hangar, shouting orders to the ground crew. Thomas and Orlando waved, then ran to catch up with her. Talice stood with Mac as the team dispersed, all but Briggs and Junior.

  “We’re going to see Scarbach,” said Talice, with a wink.

  “All by yourselves? Gee, you’re brave.” Briggs chortled.

  “Yeah, maybe we should take Junior with us, you know?” Talice gave the kid a quick look. “Go put on your best camis and favorite sidearm. We’re going downtown.”

  Junior waved a salute and headed back up the ramp. Talice turned her attention back to Briggs. “You okay? They patched you up, right?”

  “I’ll heal. What’s the plan, Captain? Next job?”

  Talice glanced to Mac, who only shrugged. “We’ll see. I’ll get us paid and send out markers for where to collect your due. You have a nice bonus coming, by the way.”

  Briggs grinned again. “I’m headed north for a few days, see some family and friends. Drop me a
commtext when we need to save more asses.”

  Talice hugged him before he turned, heading toward the metrolink station. She watched as he disappeared through the reflective doors. “Good team, Mac. Thanks.”

  “People you know and trust are always the best. Loss for the Marines, but good for us, right?”

  “That’s for damned sure.” Talice turned toward the ramp. “Let’s get prettied up for Scarbach. We don’t want him to think we’re not professionals, after all.”

  * * *

  The airtaxi dropped them at the roof of Scarbach’s business address. They had to show credentials before being allowed to take the lift down to the lobby. They stopped for coffee and tea, taking their time, waiting for the after-lunch crowd to thin before heading to the twenty-second floor and Scarbach’s office.

  Talice entered, then Mac in her hoverchair, then Junior at her back. Sheila looked up from her desk, nodded toward the inner door, then turned back to her screen.

  Talice knocked perfunctorily, then entered. Scarbach was there, ever-present phone in his hand. He set it in the cradle as Junior closed the door and stood with his back against it.

  “Mr. Scarbach, we’re here to give our report.” Talice gave a nod as Mac moved slowly to the desk.

  “Come around to the corner chair where we can chat,” said Mac.

  Scarbach smiled. “I have some things —”

  “That wasn’t a request.”

  Scarbach rose slowly, inched around the desk, and took his place as directed.

  Mac’s chair slid silently directly in front of him. “My captain has a report. Please give your full attention.”

  Scarbach’s eyes drifted to Junior. “Who’s the kid?”

  “Former Marine,” replied Talice. “Trained assassin. Kills with his bare hands. Part of our team.”

  “You people…”

  “You want our report or not?” Talice pulled a chair beside Mac. “We got everyone out except one old guy who died of a heart attack in captivity. So that’s our ‘eye-for-eye’, Mr. Scarbach. One of ours, one of yours. We’re even there.