Release The Dogs of War (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 10)

by Michael Anderle

  “Seriously?” She looked around the room to a bunch of interested faces. She turned to look at Peter, “Are you OK with this, Peter?”

  “No skin off my back, if we have something that will fit my head,” He answered.

  “Oh, hell yeah!” Jean Dukes interrupted, “I’ll rig up something for you guys.”

  “You will need a video team that can place the damned helmets on your monster heads,” John mentioned, “I’ll volunteer for making sure the helmets are on tight.”

  “I’ll go; in case they need adjustments.” Jean kicked in quickly.

  “Stop!” Bethany Anne put up a hand, and everyone stopped their chattering. “Barnabas, are you OK with this? It’s your op.”

  Barnabas grinned, “Yes. It allows us to bring a little experience to those here on the ships who do not get to be a part of the operations for retribution. We probably need the practice with the electronics on the Pricolici as well.” He shrugged, “I can see taking John and Jean, but I wouldn’t want to keep adding to the group.”

  “Fine, provided Nathan is also on board, then Dan needs to deal with getting this set up before tomorrow. Darryl, you are in charge of the snacks,” she smiled at his face of surprise, “Not just popcorn. You need to make sure everyone is having a good time.” He smiled when Eric laughingly pushed his shoulders.

  “What about the U.S.?” Captain Thomas asked Bethany Anne.

  “As in, what if they find out we did this?” She confirmed to his nod. “Well, it isn’t like we haven’t done operations against their people before. While I hope they don’t learn who took out their operative, we have created a pretty substantial list of his crimes going back over twenty years. I’m pretty confident they will appreciate the quiet handling of Phillip Simmons.”

  She smiled, “It will be hard to pin a death by mauling on us for now, at least I hope it will be?” She looked at Barnabas, who nodded. “Good. So, with Simmons taken out, we will be focusing on two others that need to first be found, then brought to justice. Stephanie Lee and the guy at the top, whoever the hell that is. I’ve got Frank and ADAM working hard trying to figure out using any hint, but even the minds I’ve tried to view, as nasty as they were, did not have a name. He, or a seriously conniving she, is hidden well.”

  She looked across her group, “I suspect we are in for a fight when we find him. Make sure you are ready and that your teams are ready! Dismissed.” She nodded to everyone and then took a step through the Etheric to her room for a few minutes with Ashur, alone.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Manufacturing Facility 01 - Asteroid Fields

  “The name ‘Bar at the End of the Universe’ isn’t going to work.” Marcus told William, “For one, we aren’t near the end of any Universe, so it isn’t in any way, shape or form, correct.”

  “Perhaps, but for most people, it will be funny as hell!” William countered. “As far as they are concerned, here IS the end of the universe.”

  “No, the End of the Universe as mentioned in that book is the End of Time, the final explosion.” Marcus argued, explosively, “Not the location like at the end of a block, you monkey-wrench!”

  Bobcat started laughing and pointed at William and then Marcus, “It’s Wrench-Monkey, Brainiac!” He slapped the table a couple of times before the two other men started chuckling about the argument and grabbed their drinks.

  “So, how was your date?” William asked.

  Marcus shrugged and muttered, “Well, it didn’t start off well. I took her to Paris only to find out that the taxis were on strike.”

  “Ohh, there went the good-night kiss,” William said.

  “Damn, sorry dude,” Bobcat agreed.

  “Who said I failed to get a good day kiss?” Marcus asked, perplexed.

  “Ha!” William shouted, turning to Bobcat next to him, “You owe me a hundred bucks!”

  Marcus just shook his head. His friends would never stop betting.

  “So, how was it?” Bobcat asked, his eyes bright.

  “How was what, the kiss?” Marcus asked. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  “That’s fine,” William interjected. “So as a non-gentleman, how was it?”

  Marcus frowned at William. “You sir, are not a gentleman.”

  William looked to Bobcat, then pointed a finger at himself, “Did he attempt to wound me?”

  “Not likely, the truth is the truth,” Bobcat responded. Both he and William shrugged.

  “Despite your insane level of professionalism and effort to bring me to new lows in my life,” Marcus started, but then paused to wink to them, “which I do appreciate. Honestly, I am not going to kiss and tell with the fair Lady Gabrielle.” Bobcat and William laughed and high-fived each other.

  “You’re scared,” Bobcat said.

  “Hell yes.” Marcus agreed and joined the other two in laughter.

  “Ok, we are even,” William told Bobcat, who nodded his agreement. William turned to Marcus, “The bet was a hundred if you kissed, and another hundred if you would say how it went, so double or nothing. You did kiss, which I won, but you didn’t tell, so Bobcat won the second hundred.” He shrugged, “I have some more work to do on you, Marcus. It’s supposed to be bros before ho’s.”

  “I’m sorry,” Marcus said as he patted his chest a couple of times before pulling out his phone, “I missed that last part. Here, let me hit the record button where you called Gabrielle a ‘ho’?” He smiled at William mischievously.

  “On second thought, beautiful vampires before bros before ho’s?” William popped Bobcat’s arm as he snickered at him. Marcus put up his phone, smiling.

  “Ok, down to business and then on to the rocket stuff,” Bobcat said.

  “Business before rocket things?” Marcus scrunched his face a little, “I thought the rocket stuff WAS the business?”

  “No, the bar is the business, the rocket stuff is work,” William clarified.

  “Rocket stuff is fun, with explosions and fire,” Marcus pointed out, “it’s every boy’s dream to get to blow stuff up and send something to outer space.”

  “Mine was car engines,” William said.

  “Combustion engines, you were just playing with explosions contained inside the metal block,” Marcus told him.

  They looked to Bobcat, “What? Girls for me.” He shrugged, “Ever since kindergarten when I played under the boat tarps with the girl across the street. Why the hell do you think I named my helicopters like I did?”

  “You didn’t, we did,” William told him.

  “Well, they were always a ‘she’, and they wouldn’t leave me,” Bobcat groused.

  “They also ate up your money,” William told him.

  “Just like a girl,” Bobcat agreed.

  They looked to Marcus who stared back at the two of them. “What? You expect me to add to this? I have two failed marriages behind me and my most recent date probably took pity on me.”

  Bobcat smiled, “That was one hell of a pity-date.”

  “Yeah, I’ll take two,” William agreed, as Marcus just shook his head.

  “Pity date?” Bobcat asked.

  The two looked back at him. “What?” Marcus inquired.

  “Pity date?” Bobcat said, “the name of the bar, something like A Pity Date?” He smiled, “So, when someone asks you where you are going, you say ‘I’m going to A Pity Date?”

  “Well, a little better than, say, ‘Andromeda’,” Marcus agreed.

  “I’m going to Andromeda,” William said aloud, “I like it, but it becomes old quickly.”

  “Well, we could also call it ‘Be Famous’,” Bobcat continued.

  “I’m going to Be Famous?” William asked and smiled, “That’s kinda funny, actually.”

  “I got drunk at Be Famous?” Marcus said. “It doesn’t quite work.”

  “Well, I can’t work it all out, seriously.” Bobcat groused, “You two offer something, and I’ll be the critic for once.”

  “Cool your heels, bud
dy,” William responded, “we are just getting our groove going. Remember, we need to have a good graphic so we can sell t-shirts back on Earth. Ours is going to be the most famous bar in the Solar System.”

  “Yeah!” Bobcat’s eyes started glowing, “Drink the beer made at All Guns Blazing!”

  William looked to Marcus, who looked back at him with a smile.

  “All Guns Blazing,” Marcus said, “I like it.”

  “Yeah, strangely enough, so do I,” admitted William. “You can make it with guns, lasers and body parts.”

  “And rocket engines,” Marcus said.

  “Yeah, but the gravitic engines don’t push out a flame,” William retorted.

  “Tell me about it. I already get shit from a few friends that are willing to contact me. They say that it takes away from pictures when you take the flame off of the spaceships.”

  “Tell them it’s more zen,” Bobcat offered as he picked up his glass, “To … All Guns Blazing!”

  The three of them clinked their glasses together.

  “Hell yeah!” the three of them joined, shouting, “All Guns Blazing!”

  —

  An hour later, the three of them were in Jeo’s office, looking at the three-dimensional ship floating in the air in the middle of the room. “So, here are the rail-guns projecting out of the gravitic shield. They can either fire over the shield, and suffer no potential adjustments to the accuracy of the rods direction when going through the shield, or, we can try to shoot through the shield, and they are affected in some form or fashion. We don’t yet know how to open a hole to allow the slugs to go through.”

  “You wouldn’t want an opening that the other side can exploit,” Bobcat explained.

  “True, but that leaves our guns exposed,” Jeo commented.

  “Can’t be helped in this case,” William replied.

  “What happens to the gravitic shield when you push the gun through?” Marcus asked.

  “It warps and weakens for a few seconds before connecting back around the metal,” Jeo answered.

  “What happens if you just put a barrel through?” Marcus asked.

  “Tried it,” Jeo responded. “It works well enough, but as soon as you traverse the barrel it screws up the shields horribly. The shields are not happy and can’t snap back quickly enough. So, we have to put the whole gun up, so the parts that move are above the shield, exposed.”

  “I wonder if any aliens have figured out a solution?” Bobcat said, aloud.

  “None that we have found in the designs in TOM’s databases.” Jeo admitted, “We looked. We did see some hard designs where the ships had big-assed guns through the shield, but they have to be aimed by pointing the whole ship.”

  “Kind of like a Kamikaze run, or you were shooting from the hip,” Bobcat murmured. “That isn’t a bad idea for the Pods,” he finished.

  “What Pods?” Marcus asked.

  “The ship can hold a total of twenty-four Black Eagle Pods along with a slew of other craft,” Bobcat answered. “Not enough to stop an invasion, but they would be a significant force multiplier and more than sufficient to handle anything back on Earth.”

  “Are we looking to save the world, or subjugate it?” Jeo asked.

  “Yes,” Bobcat answered to the confused Jeo, “look, we are here to make damn sure that the Earth can make their own decisions; except when it comes to allowing us to figure out a way to save their sorry asses. I don’t trust them to make that decision. Look at what happened in Colorado.”

  “Sorry, I didn’t know those who died, and I’m kinda out here,” Jeo told him.

  “It’s ok. You haven’t been dealing with this as long. The politics are as much a pain in the ass as everything else. Fucking trust me, it’s a lot easier knowing where the bad guys are and bringing the pain to them.”

  “Another good shirt quote, write that down Marcus,” William motioned to Marcus, who nodded silently as he jotted a note on the side of his tablet’s digital page.

  Bobcat ignored the byplay, “So, politics aside, we need to be sure we are free to build and do what is necessary. That means some powerful people want what we have and are obviously willing to take it. This ship is going to make damn sure that Bethany Anne has a hammer to bring down.”

  “What about the other designs I’ve seen, and that we’ve built?”

  “The Puck Destroyers and the Puck Battle-Cruiser?” Bobcat asked.

  “Yes, those.”

  “That rounds out the fleet for now, but we can’t have the Queen riding in those ugly son-of-a-bitches, that is just so …” Bobcat looked around at rest of the guys, “a little help here?”

  “Plebian?” Marcus offered.

  “Good enough,” Bobcat said and turned back to Jeo, “plebian.”

  “Ok, but with that black coating those things have on them, you can’t see them for shit out here,” Jeo allowed.

  “Well, the Battle-Cruiser is Captain Thomas’ ship. He wasn’t happy learning that he wasn’t getting this one, but the teams felt that this one needed someone more in tune to how we expect her to be fought.”

  “So, don’t make me wait! Who is getting the ship?” Jeo asked.

  “Lt. Cmdr Paul Jameson,” Bobcat answered.

  “Is he excited?” Jeo wondered.

  “Well, he might be if he knew about it,” Bobcat admitted.

  “Wait, we have a ship nearing completion, and the Captain doesn’t know about it, yet?” Bobcat shook his head in the negative, “Why not?”

  “Because Jeff took his sweet-ass time with Captain Thomas and made the man happy about losing this ship to take over the Puck Battle Cruiser. Really sucked his nuts, too,” Bobcat bitched. “I prefer Bethany Anne’s method of just telling them, and they are happy. But I get where Jeffrey was going. His method was just too political for me.”

  “It’s not like Jeff has Bethany Anne’s assets,” Marcus volunteered. Jeo’s eyes got large when he looked at Marcus, starting to shake his head ‘no!’

  Marcus looked at him, perplexed, “Why are you shaking your head? She is the one with the scary red eyes and sharp teeth. Whenever she talks like that, I’m willing to become the team’s janitor, and I’ll like it.”

  Bobcat and William both winked at Jeo as they chuckled.

  —

  Five hours later, Marcus bolted upright in bed, “Swarms!”

  South America

  Phillip Simmons grabbed his backpack from his car and slammed the trunk down. He double checked his Gen4 Glock G20 and his Smith & Wesson M&P10. Both weapons were larger and heavier than some people would want to carry. However, the 10mm in the Glock and the 7.62x51 in the M&P10 provided a lot more knock down power than someone with a 9mm and a 5.56. Being a good shot, Phillip was willing to carry less ammunition to have the extra stopping power the heavier weapons provided. While he hadn’t seen anyone tailing him, he didn’t want to be too lax with his safety.

  For a month, he figured this would be the first time in nineteen years he missed a trip out to the mountains. It honestly didn’t matter which mountains, whichever ones were close to where he was stationed. He always planned for it to be the nights of the full moon. The one before, during and the one after.

  He pulled the backpack on and locked it down, adjusting the straps for comfort. While his car should be safe, he had made sure that there was nothing he valued in it and left it unlocked. If anyone wanted in, they would get in. Hopefully, with the car open, he wouldn’t suffer through dealing with having to replace broken glass.

  He started walking at a slow pace and took the first trail to go back into the forest. He was looking to get away for a time, away from all of the politics, the troubles, and the people.

  He needed to clear his head.

  He was able to make it ten miles by the time he found an out of the way location to camp. He decided that a cold camp was best for the night. After setting a couple of sensors around the campsite facing the most probable directions anyone or anything might come a
t him, he went into his small tent and got comfortable.

  Just to think.

  To think about his life and his decisions. Some good, some bad, most of them in the murky gray in the middle. Coming to the conclusion that the world could go fuck itself. He had signed up to fight for the red, white and blue only to decide the red that was running was his men’s and his own. Plus, the blood of the other sides as well.

  That had caused him to start considering what was ethical? Was it ethical to do wrong for your country because it covered one’s sins or did the actions actually land on his head? If they fell to him, were his hands so red with blood they could never be cleansed? If they could not be cleansed, then what was the point. He was being judged for the sins of those above him, who were probably washing their hands in something he couldn’t.