Keep the Faith

by Daniel Gibbs

  “Always ready, always there, Master Chief,” Harrell replied with a grin. “Pity we don’t have any Leaguers to shoot around here.”

  A voice interrupted the conversation, coming through MacDonald’s suit-integrated commlink. “Master Chief MacDonald, this is Major Hanson. Can you hear me?”

  “Lima Charlie, Major.”

  Harrell guffawed while saying soto voce, “What’s the cake eater want?”

  “I’ve got a pickle of a situation here, Master Chief. Colonel Cohen and a civilian CIS agent are out of contact behind enemy lines.”

  “Sounds like a job for tier-one. Got coordinates?”

  “Roughly. There’s still a lot of ground to cover. I can’t provide air support without directly breaking our neutrality agreement with Gilead. You’ll be on your own.”

  “Are you asking if we’ll volunteer, Major?”

  There was a pregnant pause on the line. “I am, Master Chief.”

  “I owe the colonel my life, as does everyone on this team. We’re in. Transmit whatever intel you’ve got down to Senior Chief Harrell, and we’ll be thrusters up in five mikes.”

  “Thank you, Master Chief.”

  “Just make sure you’ve got some beer, booze, and officer country food ready when we’re back,” MacDonald finished, right as he cut off the commlink. “Okay, boys, we’re on the clock. Let’s go kick some drug dealer ass. Now mount up!”

  Each of the four remaining members of the team grabbed a case of gear, along with their weapons, and made a beeline for the shuttle. The commando team had staged in the VIP hangar bay, which was far smaller and easier to launch out of in case of an emergency. It’s also got better facilities and a nice lounge. MacDonald smirked as he waited for the flurry of activity to subside.

  “Ready?” Harrell asked as he trotted up. “I’ve got the intel and best location the civilian who called it in could provide.”

  “What’s with all the civilians on this op?”

  “Beats me, Master Chief.”

  “Time’s a-wasting. Let’s go.”

  MacDonald strode forward through the lowered ramp of the assault shuttle, walking through the passenger and cargo area that held his team.

  The rich baritone voice of Chief Ibrahim Ahmad rang out. “I, for one, look forward to ridding the galaxy of this scourge. I find criminals of all types to be detestable, but those who profit off the misery of others by dealing in drugs? They are an affront before God himself.” He hailed from the Kingdom of Persia and wore a Christian symbol under the country flag on his uniform.

  “There are times when I have misgivings about those we kill,” Chief Carlos Mata said. “But not this time. I’m with Ahmad. We should kill all of them and do Gilead a favor.”

  “How’d I ever make it onto this team?” Esmail Rostami asked, his voice playful. He was a Petty Officer first class, and the second to newest member of Alpha team.

  “Because no other team would take you, and I felt bad about it,” MacDonald joked on his way through, causing a wave of coarse laughter throughout the shuttle.

  “Why am I here, then?” the voice of the newcomer to the team, a tall, imposing Saurian male with purple scales, asked.

  “Command wanted to integrate the best of Sauria’s special operations forces into ours. You made the cut.”

  “You sound disappointed, Master Chief,” the Saurian replied, his tongue twitching.

  “Not at all, Warmaster Kucuk. I’m glad we got a good operator to replace Meissner. Just miss the kid, that’s all.”

  “Oh look, the Master Chief’s getting soft!”

  “Stow that shit, Mata. Now all of you get locked in; we’re lifting off in two mikes.” With that said, MacDonald crossed into the cockpit area and grunted toward the warrant officer who served as the pilot. “Pre-flight complete?”

  The young woman glanced back and nodded in his direction. “Yes, Master Chief. Boss has given us the okay to launch; just waiting on the spacewalkers to strap in.”

  They’re all so young these days. Or is it I’m getting old? “Roger, Warrant.” MacDonald strapped into the jump seat and ensured he was properly secure.

  “Master Chief, we’re ready back here,” Harrell’s voice called through the shuttle’s comm system. “Let’s go save Colonel Cohen and cap some douchebag drug dealers.”

  MacDonald let out a snicker. “You heard the man, Warrant.”

  “Commencing liftoff,” the pilot replied, and the shuttle gracefully took off from the flight deck. Hovering at a few meters off the surface, it zoomed forward as thrust was applied. The Lion of Judah quickly gave way to open space, and Gilead filled the field of view outside of the cockpit.

  As the craft began to enter the planet’s atmosphere, turbulence caused MacDonald and the pilot to shake in their harnesses. The effect grew more pronounced the further in they went. “What’s the plan, Warrant?”

  “Sit back and enjoy the ride, Master Chief,” the young woman said, tossing a grin over her shoulder with a quick backward glance.

  Great, another smart-alec. Colonel Demood’s right, this ship is overrun with ‘em.

  Flying through the air at speeds approaching twenty times the speed of sound, the shuttle was a speeding bullet. Friction from the fast transit turned the shields red, causing a roar to course through the cabin that made speaking impossible. After thirty seconds of the same, they began to level out.

  Just in time. MacDonald’s stomach heaved, sending a wave of nausea through him. Maybe I’m getting a touch old for this. The sky beyond the metallic alloy windows turned blue, and the ground rushed up at them. “Hey, uh, Warrant, are you flying us into the ground on purpose?”

  “Gilead’s sensor systems are primitive enough we can evade passive sensors by skimming the deck.”

  “Skimming the deck?”

  “Watch and learn, Master Chief.”

  The ground seemed to fly up to meet them, leaving MacDonald uneasy at best. He resolved not to eat within three hours of a combat drop, for next time.

  David crawled up a tall sand dune, the powdery soil giving way repeatedly. This is like being stuck in a bog. Except the sand gets into everything. Mounting the top of it, he reached an arm down to help Eldred and pulled her up. His chest heaved as he breathed heavily. Note to self: work out more. Below them, the desert stretched endlessly in all directions. He could make out specks in the distance—the enemy relentlessly pursuing them, intent on ending their lives.

  “Pity I didn’t pack a sniper rifle,” Eldred said.

  “Yeah, until it ran out of bullets. This Feldt guy seems to have a virtually unlimited number of thugs willing to kill for him.”

  “What’s sad is that people here view him as a decent guy trying to help the poor make a living. They won’t help the police or the military put an end to him.”

  “That’s what Gilead gets for mass corruption at all levels of government,” David grunted as he spoke. “Organized crime is a cancer, and when your entire economy is built around gambling, the cancer eventually takes over.”

  Eldred smirked. “Hey, I don’t mind betting on the slots now and then.”

  “I would assume you know when you stop.”

  “Yeah, I go into a casino with a hundred credits to play, and when I’m done, I’m done.”

  David sighed. “All things in moderation.” Despite his calm exterior, he was anxious. “Eldred, I’d be lying to you if I said this looked good.”

  “I wasn’t born yesterday, Colonel. There’s two of us and a hundred of them. I get it. Unless Qadir gets help back here…”

  “Yeah.” David closed his eyes. “Didn’t expect it to end like this. It seems wrong, somehow.”

  Eldred glanced at him, a questioning look in her eyes. “Why?”

  “I always thought if I were going to die, it would be on the bridge of my ship, locked in battle against the League. Not on some backwater planet against drug dealers.”

  “Are you saying they’re not worthy of killing the great C
olonel Cohen?”

  David laughed. “Sounds stupid when you put it like that.”

  “Glad to be of service.”

  He unslung his battle rifle and checked the magazine one more time. Turning the fire selector to single shot, David glanced down the scope and ensured it was clean. “These optics only have two times magnification. We’ll have to let them get close before we can engage.”

  “Any grand plans?”

  David shook his head. “Not really. Keep shooting them until they shoot us or get tired of their losses and pull back. If they do, we’ll break contact and keep going further into the desert.”

  “If it comes down to it, I’m not willing to be taken alive,” Eldred said quietly, her brow scrunched together. “You can make your own choice on that, but… we know what he does to prisoners.”

  David forced some bravado into his voice. “We’re not done yet, and these guys aren’t going to know what hit them.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, Colonel,” she replied, breaking into a grin.

  The next few minutes passed without speaking. The specks grew in number and in size, until David was able to make them out easily. The same civilian clothed gunmen they’d engaged previously, wearing inadequate body armor and carrying rifles without scopes or integrated optics. More than enough firepower to keep cowering civilians in line, but suicide against equal numbers of even moderately trained troops. He sighted down, trying to line up a shot on the closest enemy. While he wasn’t a ground pounder, he’d been in enough direct combat to know when to pull the trigger. “You take right of twelve o’clock. I’ll handle left.”

  “Got it.”

  David didn’t move his head an inch. “They’re almost in range. Open fire when I do.”

  Eldred didn’t respond, but he could hear her breathing slow.

  His finger moved onto the trigger, and he squeezed. A single shot rang out, and David was rewarded with a fallen enemy. The bullet went straight through the unlucky man’s eye socket.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  The entire formation—if it could be called that—opened fire, many of them on full automatic. Bullets filled the air and smacked the sand all around them. Ninety-nine percent of the shots were so wide, they didn’t land anywhere near, but a few were uncomfortably close.

  Scanning the onrushing group, David tried to select those who appeared to know what they were doing. Another shot, another kill. As his scope moved from person to person, a Psalm entered his mind. Blessed be the Lord my God, who teaches my hands for war, and my fingers to fight.

  “There’s too many of them,” Eldred said between shots. “They’re coming faster than I can take them out.” As if to underline her statement, sand blew into their faces from a burst of bullets.

  He is my fortress, my high tower, my deliverer and my shield, in Him do I trust.

  Shaking the sand off, David switched to three-round burst mode and aimed for center mass. After dropping four enemies, his rifle clicked dry. He dropped the magazine out and slapped a new one in. He subdues the people under me. “Forget headshots, Eldred. Aim center mass, just like me.”

  She acknowledged him with a grunt. They both continued to fire on the mass of onrushing humanity intent on killing them. Several times, they almost broke the enemy advance, but some kind of force seemed to motivate the men, beyond simple duty or fear of failure. They swept onward, like a wind.

  David’s rifle clicked dry once more. Man is like a breath, his days are as a shadow that passes by. “Reload and go full auto.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It's our only chance,” David said as he slid the next magazine into the receiver of his battle rifle. Part the heavens, O Lord my God, touch the mountains, and they shall smoke. Lifting his head again, he was shocked at the sight of a dozen enemies, less than ten meters away. He raised the rifle and held down the trigger, sending fifty bullets flying down the dune. Men pitched over like bowling pins, blood sprayed from direct hits, and the cries of the wounded were overwhelming.

  Eldred joined in, sending the fury from her rifle into the mix. Dozens of gunmen were killed outright, while the rest finally dropped into the sand and paused their advance.

  Bring forth Your lightning and scatter them, O Lord; shoot out Your arrows and destroy them. Dropping behind the lip of the sand berm, David glanced at her. “I’m out of rifle rounds.”

  “Same. Mags for your pistol?”

  “Two.”

  Shaking her head, Eldred laughed bitterly. “Well, that’s a few more of these assholes anyway.”

  A roar in the distance caught the attention of both of them. It sounded mechanical, with a distinct pattern David had never heard before. He stuck his head gingerly over the berm to see two squat vehicles racing toward them. They had improvised armor plating attached to the sides and top, while a large crew-serviced weapon was mounted on the back of each. They came complete with a standing gunner. At the sight of movement, every enemy still alive opened up, along with the big guns. He quickly dropped back down into the sand. “Okay, things just went from bad to screwed.”

  “What?”

  “Non-standard tactical vehicles. The bread and butter of warlords, drug dealers, and bad guys the galaxy over.”

  “Hah,” Eldred replied, somehow keeping up good spirits. “Technicals, eh?”

  “Yup,” David said as he reached down and drew his sidearm. “Shouldn’t take them too long to gather some courage and try again.”

  His words might have well been a prophecy. Moments later, two gunmen bounded over the top of the berm, only to be cut down by a trio of shots from Eldred. “Pull back!” she shouted.

  Sliding down the berm, David fired again as another enemy climbed over the top and the man fell backward. It would’ve been nice if he’d pitched forward and I could’ve grabbed his weapon. Between the two of them, they dispatched several more cartel soldiers before his pistol clicked dry. Dropping the magazine out, he slid another in with the practiced motion of a professional. “Last mag.” God, we need Your help, right now.

  Eldred glanced at him. “I’m scared.”

  “Of death?”

  “No.” Her voice trailed off. “Of where I’m going after I die. I realized as Carmina passed, I don’t know where I’m going.”

  David pursed his lips together. “We’ve all done horrible things in the service of our country.”

  “I haven’t been to confession in years. Or taken communion. For that matter, I haven’t set foot in a church since I couldn’t tell you when.”

  “Do you still believe?”

  “Of course.”

  David offered a small smile. “Then God is there for you. Period.”

  “I hope so,” Eldred said, turning toward him and smiling ruefully. “It’s been an honor.”

  “Same here. See you on the other side?” David asked as he tried to make peace with the inevitable death to follow.

  Eldred didn’t get the opportunity to respond.

  David’s headset suddenly came to life. “This is Alpha leader calling any friendly forces. Alpha leader calling any friendly forces.”

  It took him a moment to reply. He was so overcome by shock, the words wouldn’t come out. “Master Chief MacDonald, this is Colonel David Cohen. I read you five by five. We are under heavy fire and are nearly Winchester. I say again, we are under heavy fire and are Winchester. Danger close!”

  “Roger that, Colonel. I’ve got a fix on your position and have a special ops heavy shuttle ready to put some hurt down. Got any colored smoke?”

  Eldred held up a grenade marked with a bright purple stripe.

  “Affirmative, Master Chief. Marking our location with purple smoke now!”

  She pulled the pin and tossed the grenade. It landed nearby and immediately started belching clouds of thick purple haze. Right then, another gunman climbed the lip. She fired twice, felling him.

  “Master Chief, if you’re coming, now’s the time.”

  “Fiftee
n seconds, Colonel!”

  Time seemed to stop as the seconds ticked by. David kept his pistol raised and at the ready. Along with Eldred, they fired again and again, bodies dropping from precise center mass shots. Reach down from on high; rescue me and deliver me from my enemies, from those who speak falsehood and deceive the just. The familiar whomp-whomp-whomp of CDF tactical rockets firing sounded across the sky. Seconds later, explosions rang out, the sound of which was like music to his ears. Set me free and rescue me, O Lord. Balls of fire were visible, rising into the sky above the berm, while the shuttle swooped low and flew a couple of meters off the ground over him and Eldred.

  As they stood transfixed in shock, the power-armored troopers of Alpha team jumped off the shuttle and landed right side up, on the run, in the sand. Battle rifles blazed, a grenade launcher fired, and in less than thirty seconds, it was over.

  “We’re clear, sir,” MacDonald said through the commlink.

  Blessed are the people, whose God is the Lord. David made his way to the top of the berm and surveyed the landscape below him. Both “technicals” were burning, while dozens, if not hundreds of bodies littered the desert floor. A few gunmen had thrown down their arms and ran as fast as their legs would carry them back toward the small town. “I’m in your debt, MacDonald.”

  One of the power-armored troopers walked over and put his hand on David’s shoulder. “No one left behind. Not even the cake eaters and spies.”

  David laughed as MacDonald popped open his helmet visor. “Master Chief… for this one, you and your team get a VIP meal in the wardroom.”

  “And who do I owe my thanks?” Eldred said as she climbed over the berm.

  “Master Chief Gordan MacDonald… Miss?”

  “Miranda Eldred. Coalition Intelligence Service.”

  MacDonald snorted. “Spooks. Director Qadir sends her best. Now, let’s get you two mounted up and head back to the barn.”