by Daniel Gibbs
“Drop it!” Eldred shouted. She, too, was out of the car and aiming at the man with her pistol.
With a crazed expression on his face, the man continued to try to jam the magazine into the rifle. Spit flew out of his mouth, and he uttered a loud series of curses as it wouldn’t engage. Finally, he tossed the weapon aside, pulled a long-bladed knife off his belt, and charged.
David didn’t hesitate. He squeezed the trigger repeatedly on his sidearm and felled the enemy with a series of shots to his center mass. As the man dropped, clutching his chest, he turned to Qadir, who had also exited the vehicle. “What was that? You could’ve gotten us all killed!”
“I assessed he was about to take hostile action and decided the element of surprise was our only ally,” Qadir shot back, her voice tight and loud. “We had no choice but to eliminate them.”
Eldred’s face was blood red as she walked around to face the other woman, her eyes flashing anger. “They would’ve let us through. I’ve been an intelligence agent my entire career. You sit behind a desk. I should’ve never asked you to come. Now we’re screwed!”
“Hey!” David shouted. “Enough. What’s done is done. Focus on the mission. We need to determine if they contacted their version of an HQ and figure out how to move forward.” For a moment, he thought Eldred and Qadir would come to blows based on their body language, forcing him to intervene, but both backed off after his statement.
“Yeah, let's check them all for comms gear, then the shanty. If we’re super—”
Eldred didn’t finish her statement as a burst of gunfire shattered the calm.
Punishing himself mentally, he turned as fast as he could, pistol at the ready to see a fourth man with the same type of civilian long rifle aiming at them from twenty meters away. It mentally registered that the shots were directed at Qadir a split second before she screamed in pain.
“I’m hit!” Qadir yelled out as she fired her weapon without proper aim. A dark red stain was visible on her upper right shoulder.
David forced himself to concentrate on the threat and not on assisting his fallen comrade. He sighted down the iron sights of the pistol and squeezed the trigger twice. One shot went wide, but the second hit the enemy’s forehead. The man collapsed in a heap. “Eldred! Secure the hostile. I’ve got Qadir.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eldred take off at a brisk run while he covered the distance to the fallen woman and knelt at her side.
“Sorry, Colonel,” Qadir rasped out, in obvious pain. “I should’ve had perimeter security.”
“No, it’s on me. I’m military. Both of you are civilians.” The wound looked severe, with blood staining much of her upper shirt. David peeled it back to see a clean entry and exit wound that was actively bleeding. “Okay, the good news is the bullet’s out. The bad news is you’re losing blood. Let me get the med-kit out of that poor excuse for a car.”
“I may be a civilian, but I pride myself on being able to handle a weapon, Colonel.”
David popped open the trunk of the car and quickly located the combat med-kit, emblazoned with the logo for CDF Medical. Returning to Qadir, he snapped the plastic box open and fished out an auto-injector with standard healing gel. It was a compound designed to be used on wounds for battlefield treatment. After applying a significant amount of the substance, he cleaned up the wound area and applied bandages.
“Not bad for a fleet officer.”
“Twenty plus years in service, you learn a bit of everything in war,” he replied with a smile.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
They were interrupted by the return of Eldred, who walked up with her pistol held at her side. “Last one’s dead. Nice shot from twenty meters, Cohen.”
Shrugging as he finished off the bandage job, David glanced up at her. “I don’t consider taking a human life to be something the adjective ‘nice’ belongs with.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure I count these guys as human beings.”
The comment drew a sharp stare from David. “No matter what they’ve done, they’re still human. This business of labeling enemies as sub-human so it’s easy to hate them goes against everything I believe. I take no joy in killing.”
“To each their own, Colonel. How’s the Director?”
“She’ll be fine. Sore for a few days and combat ineffective until the gel sets in and promotes cellular repair.”
Qadir forced herself up off the ground, grunting in pain as she did. “I am fine.”
“You’re not fine,” David snapped, glancing about the area to maintain situational awareness. “Let’s get you inside, off your feet, and check out the shack.”
Eldred nodded and took point. She opened the front door. It didn’t contain a latch or locking mechanism visible from the exterior.
His pistol leading the way, David edged inside the small building, sweeping it side to side. The main room was quite sparse. There were two wooden chairs and a few cargo containers. A countertop built into the wall in what might be a kitchen rounded out the room, with a single interior door. “Clear right!” he shouted and shifted aim to his left. Once he heard Eldred’s footsteps behind him, he advanced and flung the flimsy door open to find it empty too. “Clear left!”
“I guess they didn’t have money left for furniture after blowing it all on Orbita,” Qadir said.
David turned to find her staggering inside, clutching at the shoulder wound before sitting. “Be careful not to aggravate the injury, Director.”
She replied with a roll of her eyes, prompting David to holster his sidearm and shift his focus to Eldred. “I don’t see any obvious communication setup in here.”
“Neither do I. But let’s make a rigorous search.”
They worked opposite sides of the room. David took the kitchen area and found nothing but several drawers of freeze-dried food packets, a few meals-ready-to-eat so old they could’ve been in the Saurian-Terran Coalition War, and various eating utensils. He moved on to a chest that contained men’s clothing, most of it smelly and stained. I don’t think they intended this to be a long-term assignment, but the fact they put up a building suggests Feldt is trying to increase security.
“Hey, check this out, Colonel,” Eldred called from across the room.
David turned and briskly closed the distance to find her peering at a printed piece of paper. Odd, who uses paper anymore? Glancing down, he realized it was a map. It looked to be topographical, with detailed notes on elevations and the locations of various buildings marked clearly. It was centered around a small town. “Is this the local area, you think?”
Eldred nodded. “I believe so. But more importantly, see all the Xs?”
He looked again and saw her point. There were small Xs marked on every path or road leading in and out of the town at various intervals. “Checkpoints.”
“Bingo. With this, it doesn’t matter if the alarm was raised—we know where they’ll be and can avoid them.”
A broad grin broke out across David’s face. “Now we’re cooking with gas. We’ll need that map. See if there’s anything else of value.” He turned to face Qadir. “Director, I don’t think it’s wise for you to press on with us. I’m going to signal the Lion of Judah and have a tier-one team sent down, along with medivac.”
Eldred cut in before Qadir could respond. “You’re bringing in more troops?”
David nodded. “They’re on alert. We’ll need the backup.”
“As much as I would prefer to go with you, Colonel… I understand. I am a liability in this state. Allow me to apologize to both of you for my rash actions.”
No sense in beating her up further. “No apology needed. After all, you did get shot. ” David grinned as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handcomm, which he put to his lips. “Cohen to Lion of Judah.”
There was no response.
“Cohen to Lion, come in.”
The three of them exchanged glances, while Eldred pulled her comm out and tried it. “Eldred to
CIS agent on duty.”
“Okay, that’s a problem. Both of them aren’t out,” David said, a look of worry coming over his face.
Qadir, too, tried and failed. “Same here, Colonel.”
“The only explanation is Feldt has a wide band communication blocker set up to protect his territory,” Eldred interjected.
“Okay, we need a new plan. Did you see any other transportation here?” David asked.
“There’s a 4X4 all-terrain vehicle out back. I assume it’s used by the goons we killed.”
David turned and stared at Qadir. “Director, can you drive the car we used to get out here, in your condition?”
“I think so,” she replied, touching her shoulder. “Painful, but I’ve given birth naturally, without medication. This is nothing compared to that pain.”
Eldred and David shared a glance before he nodded. “I don’t like it, but it’s our best play. Agent, get the 4X4 brought around to the trunk. We’ll transfer as much gear as we can carry, but especially our battle rifles and ammo.”
“Yes, sir,” Eldred said with a jaunty grin as she walked out the front door, leaving David and Qadir alone.
Qadir stood and faced him. “I’ll get help. Whatever it takes.”
“I hate asking you to go alone.”
“I’m sure it’s far less dangerous than continuing on, Colonel.”
David locked eyes with her. “Take care of yourself, don’t pull any crazy stunts, and go with God.”
She let out a laugh. “I cannot promise anything, except to try and walk with Allah.”
Gesturing toward the door, David shook his head with a grin. “Let’s go, Director. We both have kilometers to travel. Many of them.”
18
The door to Kenneth Lowe’s office swung open without a knock or warning. He glanced up to the face of Stephen Casey looming in the doorway. There were few people he would ascribe the word “hate” to. Casey was one of them. His pallid skin, and short, gaunt frame made the man appear frail, but he was anything but.
“Mister Lowe, so good to see you.” Casey’s voice dripped with sugary sweet sarcasm.
Kenneth’s face contorted in anger. He loathes me about as much as I hate him. “What can I do for you?”
“I understand you’ve been interfering with the work of my division.”
It took him a moment to realize Casey wasn’t sitting down. Probably thinks he can intimidate me by standing over my desk. “News to me. I wasn’t aware your division worked.”
“You smug little piece of—”
“Shit? I think that’s the word you’re looking for,” Kenneth replied as his mouth curled up into a grin. “The small army of people you’ve got assigned to the reactor work isn’t doing their job. It’s holding my guys up because we can’t install the new shield generators and weapons emplacements without power.”
“It’s none of your concern,” Casey snapped.
“Like hell, it’s not my concern. You’ve got hundreds of people working on a cost-plus basis, going at half speed or less.”
“And we’re still getting paid, aren’t we? Oh, that’s right, we get paid the entire cost plus our guaranteed profit. I fail to see the problem.”
Kenneth stood up, flinging his chair behind him. “I put in four years defending the Terran Coalition in the CDF. I work this job to provide quality services to the men and women who put their lives on the line for all of us. Not to milk the system for every credit I can get out of it.”
Casey stared at him, having to look up due to Kenneth’s extreme height of over two meters. He spoke like a used helicar salesman. “Spare me ‘the noble man only working to help his fellow soldiers’ talk. You’re a capitalist, just like me. I don’t see you turning down the mountain of credits you get paid for all those contracts won.”
“There’s nothing wrong with earning a profit through hard work, dedication, and good service. That’s not what you’re talking about. What you describe is a crime.”
Casey laughed, a piercing sound, not unlike the noise made by a hyena. “What are you going to do about it?”
“For starters, inform Ms. Lee and provide her with proof your people are breaking the CAR.”
“No one cares about Coalition Acquisition Regulations. There’s a war on, and the rules are bent constantly. You, for all your idealism, have no idea how to play the game, Kenny.”
Kenneth grimaced. He detested that nickname. I ought to punch this smug SOB in the face. “I don’t play the game. I do my job, take care of my people, and deliver what I say I will, on time and under budget. Whatever it takes, I’ll find a way to stop you.”
“Others have tried. They failed. So will you.”
“I don’t think so. Get the reactors finished so my team can do their jobs. Otherwise, I’ll blow the whistle all the way to the top. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll go to some of my friends in the CDF. They’ll handle it from afar.”
“Ah, yes. The esteemed Colonel Cohen. Such a good friend. Bailed you out of many a jam, hasn’t he? Guess what, Kenny boy? He’s just a colonel. I’m friends with more four-star generals than women you’ve slept with. You’re really small fry, you know that?”
Kenneth balled his fists up and bit down on his lip. “Get the hell out of my office.”
“Or what, you’ll punch me?”
“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t stay to find out.”
With a final sneer, Casey turned on his heel and stomped out of the room.
Kenneth fell back into his chair, staring at the open door, then down at his hands. I can’t keep working for these people. I hate this place. I hate Casey. I know Lee is in on it too. They’re a bunch of crooks. “Why do I stay?” he asked out loud, even though no one was there. Because I can’t leave my people in their hands. It’s my duty to take care of them. He stared at the monitor on his desk, linked to his tablet. I really should do some work.
Another face appeared in the open door, Joshua Carter. Kenneth’s long-time deputy and overall right-hand man, they’d worked together for many years. His brown hair, with specks of gray in it, was slicked back—a classic surfer’s hairstyle. “Hey, boss. Got a minute?”
Kenneth grinned. “For you? I’ve got two.”
Joshua walked in and shut the door behind him. “Was Casey in here?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because he was cursing your name as he walked down the hallway.”
Unable to suppress a snicker, Kenneth leaned back in his chair and allowed it to turn into an all-out laugh. When he regained control over himself, he pushed his head forward. “We had words.”
Joshua sat down, staring intently at him. “You do realize he’s got a lot of political pull?”
“I don’t care.”
“I think we all know that by now.”
“He’s a crook. His cronies are all crooks too. He’s got an entire division stuffed with people who make a sport out of ripping off the CDF.”
“No more so than most contractors.”
Kenneth furrowed his brow together. “Please tell me you don’t believe that.”
Joshua shrugged. “I’ve seen more of it than I’d care to admit.”
“Not on my watch.”
“Boss, has it occurred to you that we’re cogs in the wheel? What you or I do in the end doesn’t matter.”
Kenneth stood up, pushing the chair back. He paced up and down his small office. “I can’t accept that line of thinking. If I do, what’s the point of anything? If we’re all slimy contractors, and no one cares…” His voice trailed off as he shook his head. “No. I don’t accept it. We’re better than that.”
“Then what do you plan to do about it, boss?”
Kenneth stopped, turned on his heel, and stared at his friend. “I’ll find a way to beat Casey. I’m not sure how yet, but I will find it.”
“Don’t you know one of the government QA inspectors?” Joshua asked, his face morphing into a grin.
“You mean the
one I dated for a year?”
“Yeah, her.”
“Um, you remember I left her, right? Didn’t exactly end well.”
Joshua laughed. “Yeah, but you’re bossanova.”
With an eye roll, Kenneth grimaced. “That nickname is as bad as Kenny.”
“Need some help, then?”
“Nah. I’ll gather up the evidence and see if I can get a truce declared.”
“You do that, sir.”
Hanson glanced up from the engineering readiness report he was reviewing to see Ruth and Hammond at their respective stations. He’d been on the bridge for several hours, sitting the first watch. After David’s call, the time had been monotonous at best. At least there’s always something to do on the reactor, or to the ship. The XO’s seat was unoccupied. With Ruth being next in watch officer seniority, he didn’t want to pull her from tactical if there was a real emergency.
“TAO, anything new on sensors?”
“Conn, TAO. Negative, sir.” Ruth replied, her tone seeming to border on annoyed.
“This waiting, I’m not used to it.”
Ruth cranked her head around briefly. “I’ve heard the colonel say acceptance of long periods of boredom is required for our jobs.”
“Not in engineering. Time flies, because nothing ever works right all the time,” he said with a grin. “I don’t know what to do with all this time.”
“Don’t you have oodles of paperwork to do?”
Hanson stared at her, an eyebrow raised. “Such as?”
“The CO’s admin screen, which you should have access to now, has a queue of required documents to review. All those NJPs you pushed through, transfer requests, new crew assignments, so on and so forth. Who do you think does all that? Colonel Cohen and Aibek.”
“Hm. Thanks, Lieutenant.” He grimaced inwardly.
“You’re welcome, sir.”
As Ruth turned back around, Hanson used the chair’s integrated tablet to navigate to the screen she was talking about and found it full of hundreds of requests. Yikes, looks like it built up yesterday and today. I’d better start working on these. An hour passed without him noticing, and he only got through a few dozen items. It dawned on him that the noise from the bridge was interfering with his concentration.
