On either side of the central fireplace there were curved stairs leading to a second floor and, up there, a balcony and entrances to what must have been modest-sized but ample bedrooms.
Maslovic did a mental count. Let’s see, ten guard-staff personnel, eight of which were now around the exterior of the place, Magda and Georgi, of course, at least two more guards inside, including the big fellow who was clearly the chief bodyguard, the three girls and at least one other referred to when they came out who, it appeared, was a tough-looking woman with fiery snake tattoos on both arms and maybe different subjects on other places as well, acting as a chief cook and personal waiter to anyone inside. She didn’t look all that old, but a big mane of woolly hair was almost snow white, and there were visible scars on her face, arms, and back. She’d lived a hard life, no matter if it had been a long one or not, and it showed.
“Have one of the ferrets get a peek in each of those rooms, up and down,” Maslovic ordered. “I want to know where those girls are, if they’re here, and if they’re the only ones we haven’t accounted for yet. I don’t want any surprises if we bust into the place.”
“Will do.”
It didn’t seem large enough for there to be any more unaccounted-for staff or guests, but the place was larger than it looked and the downstairs staff rooms were quads, four hammocks to a room, and could easily have handled another four or more staff people. Behind the incredibly realistic simulated fireplace was the full cooking kitchen, complete with a small but adequate walk-in refrigerator and a full replicator unit of the type the navy people recognized from their own ship—but much, much fancier. At the far end was a huge single wooden door with a vacuum-style handle on it. It might have been some security door, but it seemed more likely that it was a small wine cellar.
The girls that had brought them all there were also not hard to find. Irish O’Brian was sitting in one of the plush chairs in the great room thumbing through pictures of some sort and looking nervous. Mary Margaret McBride was pacing around near the front door, even more nervous. Only the quiet and somewhat flaky Brigit Moran was out of sight, possibly upstairs.
What was most noticeable about the two they could see was that both seemed in excellent health and strength, neither seemed a prisoner and, most astounding of all, neither looked pregnant.
“Doesn’t make sense,” Murphy said from the control van. “Even if they’re better healers with superhuman strength, where’s the babies? A crash like we give ’em shoulda woke the little darlin’s up into a screechin’ frenzy. It ain’t normal, I tell you!”
Darch, the overall technical manager for the team, shrugged. “Can you tell me just what is normal about these people? Any of them? Not just your girls.”
“I get your point.”
Broz studied the two they could see. “At least they’re not prisoners or unwilling participants. Look at those faces. As someone with a lot of experience in these kind of operations, Captain, I’d say that if you walked in there now they wouldn’t exactly greet you with hugs and kisses. More likely they’d blow you away without a thought.”
As much as he hated to admit it and only partly believed it, looking at those two in the viewscreen, it seemed very close to the truth.
“Well, no apparent sacrificial altars and the like,” Maslovic noted from his point of view in the trees just beyond the compound. “This isn’t a rescue mission.”
“Praise be for that much!” Murphy muttered to himself.
Darch wasn’t in such a good mood. “Look, it took half the night and more than half the energy pods in this thing to pick up and fling that rock and then get back out of the way. We fooled ’em last time with some jungle terror but they won’t be suckers like that again, and I don’t dare risk bringing this thing in close again. Not to mention that none of you have the power packs to be able to clear this region without us. Either we take ’em, and soon, or they’re going to have somebody in close that will pick them up and we’re off to do this all over again someplace else. Both that big fella before and now our two subjects now are on the horn to somebody. Either we’re gonna have a friggin’ army show up, or they’re getting a lift. Better decide and quick.”
“How much notice can you give us?”
“At best, maybe ten minutes, maybe less. There are busses and vans and shuttles flying all over here at all sorts of altitudes. It’s the only way to get in or out of these places. They don’t have to come from one of the cities or the small freebooter towns here. They can divert at any moment,” Darch reminded him.
Maslovic thought it over for a moment, then sighed. “Okay, so we take them. I don’t want any chances with the ones outside. They all go down. No exceptions. Knock them cold for an hour or kill them if we have to. But inside, stun grenade and heavy stun shots, no lethal force. We need them alive if we can manage it. You see any of those gems on them, you take them. Rip them off with whatever force and by whatever means you need to. Put them in the secure sample pouches and close up tight. You remember what those girls did on the ship. If they get half a chance with us, we’re all dead.”
That’s eight defendin’ against you just outside, Murphy thought. Cocky bald-headed bastards, aren’t they?
Maslovic acted as the spotter. “Okay, everybody, no use for a countdown here. When I give the word, I want each of you to drill the sentry closest to you. Ideally, it’ll be when the other two aren’t looking, but we all know how that drill goes. Sanchez, as soon as you hit yours, cover your left. Rosen, you do right, Ndulu, left, Nasser, right. And don’t shoot each other! I’ll cover from here as best I can and when we get them all, we converge on the main doors but don’t enter. Repeat, do not enter until I join you. The odds are, the first person through without the magic password dies, got it? Okay, the ones outside are beginning to look bored and a couple are just staring out into the jungle waiting for us and wishing we’d attack. Let’s oblige… now!”
One of the guards near the back thought he heard something in the trees and looked up, bringing his weapon up as he did so. At that instant a part of the wooden lodge wall behind him shimmered and seemed to move, and before the sentry knew what hit him there was a sharp electronic thwang! and he got a rough shove over the railing and onto the ground five meters below.
The moment this happened, a female sentry, sensing movement and hearing the report, turned to check on her companion. At that split second, Sanchez whirled left and shot her full in the chest as Rosen emerged from the wall and fired a wide spread on the same hapless sentry from the other side. Even as the woman went down, an expression of total bewilderment on her face, her hands still clutching the rifle, Sanchez was to her, kicking away the weapon and joining Rosen in a near simultaneous firing on the next sentry who was just now turning to see what the hell was going on.
Ndulu and Nasser had the same good fortune on their side of the porch, but the next one in line was able to yell out a warning and even get off a shot before being brought down. The noise of the shot was deafening and unexpected; it had been a long time since any of the marines had heard a real concussion and projectile firing.
Ndulu was forced backwards by the power of the shot, and her left hand went to her right shoulder and came back with blood. “I’m all right! Left-handed! Let’s get the rest of the bastards!” she yelled, and she and Nasser opened continuous fire on the next one in line on their side.
They were now down to three foes on the porch, and the trio weren’t waiting to be picked off. One each crouched on either side of the door, using the porch furniture as shields, while the third, the smallest and most acrobatic of the guards, ran partly down the steps to the ground and then turned and crouched there, able to cover either of her companions or shoot in either direction.
None of them had spotted Maslovic above them and in the trees. “They’re waiting for you on both sides,” he warned them. “I’ll take the one on the stairs.”
Without even thinking about it, Sanchez on one side and Nasser on the othe
r leaped over the railing and landed with rolls on the ground below, then got up and made their way out from the building and then forward, just ahead of their companions still on the porch but at just enough distance to be able to shoot anything that presented itself.
“No good, everybody stop!” Maslovic ordered. “Now, at my command, I’m going to take the stair shooter and I want the two on the ground to use their floater packs, go up and shoot low and wide on either side of the front door. Got it? Darch, you come forward as soon as you hear our shots and finish them off. Okay… Now!”
It was almost a textbook exercise. Although neither of the marines on the ground could see the nearly prone ambushers above, both could see the door and simply rose up and squeezed off an energy clip towards the lowest point on the porch. Maslovic fired as soon as he’d given the order, hitting the woman on the stairs squarely in the back before she even realized he was there. Nasser nailed one on the porch but did not put him completely out of action; the other sensed Sanchez and rolled on the porch as she came up to it. They both fired nearly at once, and both hit their marks. Sanchez dropped like a stone, but the man on the porch was going nowhere, either.
Rosen and Ndulu could see each other as the wounded but still dangerous last guard started firing in wide bursts. He barely missed Nasser but the marine was forced to drop back below the porch line. Shooting out, though, made the guard a perfect target for the two marines closing on his position, and in a double burst he was nearly fried.
As soon as all the opposition was clear, the discipline of the team showed as Ndulu and Rosen kept the door in their sights allowing Nasser and Maslovic to rush to Sanchez. Maslovic kneeled down, checked his companion, and saw that she was still breathing, although shallowly. The shot had been a lethal charge but had been mostly absorbed by the combat suit. It was pretty well shorted out, though, and that meant just insuring that Sanchez didn’t suddenly die from shock. He gave her an injection that would help but didn’t try the stimulants to bring her around. Without the suit capabilities and having taken that kind of shot, she’d be more a danger to herself than a help to the team if she came around right now.
“Darch, bring the van in closer but keep it out of visual range of the lodge. We still don’t know if they have any nasty surprises in there,” Maslovic called. “Sanchez is down on the ground to the west of the exterior stairs. She is out but will recover. Pick her up as soon as I call you in. Got that?”
“Aye, sir,” Darch responded.
Broz immediately began the report from the ferret camera. “The cook and chief bodyguard inside are on either side of the door ready to blast anyone who comes in, but Schwartz is just sitting, apparently unarmed, on one of the big sofas there and Macouri has that gun in his hands but it’s being held in a more or less relaxed position. He doesn’t look very confident and may be deciding what to do. The two younger women have backed off to the kitchen area but appear to be just looking nervously back at the door waiting to see what will happen.”
“Can you risk exposing a ferret?” Maslovic asked.
“I think so. I wouldn’t want to expose the wide-camera one I’m looking at now, but the recon one’s expendable if necessary. There’s no obvious sound system to broadcast into that’s on, but I could probably get the internal speaker levels loud enough to be heard. I think now’s the time or they might take a stand. You want to do it or should I?”
“You go ahead. You can see what’s going on in there better than I can. I don’t want to obscure vision out here now. You never know when something’s going to pop up.”
“Very well. I’m going to try and position it for maximum effect and minimum target, up and to one side of the fireplace. The acoustics with that high ceiling should do, although I wish that damned ceiling fan was off.”
“Just do it!”
Broz cleared her throat. “Attention! You inside! We are a marine field-strike team. All of your support outside has been neutralized.”
Everybody inside jumped and began looking around to see where the sound was coming from. It wasn’t booming or threatening, rather it was thin and distant, but they definitely could hear and understand it.
“By whose authority do you invade my property and wantonly kill my people?” Macouri shouted out, defiance in his tone.
“We are a special force unit under the command of Captain Kim of the naval cruiser Thermopylae,” Broz responded. “Your—guests—can tell you more about it if they already haven’t. You are engaged in illegal commerce with unknown alien forces.”
“Alien! Poppycock! I deal in no forces that mankind hasn’t been familiar with since its very beginning! You have no right to do this!”
“We have every right under our commission from the Earth System Combine, also known as the Confederacy of United Worlds.”
“The Confederacy is dead! You are nothing but a bunch of pirates and thugs!” Georgi Macouri shouted, still looking up and around, trying to locate the speaker but being defeated by the diffuseness given to sound by the great room’s design.
Got you there! thought Captain Murphy, watching the whole thing from the van.
“I am not going to argue with you, sir,” Broz responded to the outburst. “We are in position. You have one minute. We may move at any time after that. If we continue military action we will continue it to its end. You will not be permitted to cause us harm and then give up. You understand that? I see that you do. No more debate. Your choice. Your free minute begins… now.”
“Now, wait a minute…” Macouri began, but he suddenly realized that the point of no return was upon him. He looked over at his remaining guardians. “Joshua? What do you think?”
“We can take a few of ’em with us, sir!” the big man responded confidently.
“Perhaps, but a fat lot of good that does us.” He was sweating in spite of the air conditioning, and his face showed real anguish. He turned to his companion on the sofa. “Magda?”
“What can they do, darling? Let them play soldier, then we’ll buy them another spaceship or something to play with and everybody will be happy.”
His teeth clenched, Macouri hissed, “Yes,” although he clearly didn’t like the choice. He turned around and looked at the ceiling again. “All right! All right! Resources are the better part of valor and all that! Joshua, Natasha—just put down your guns and stand by. I’m putting mine on the floor.”
Joshua looked almost disappointed. “Whatever you say, sir,” he responded, and both he and the hard-bitten cook put down their rifles and knives as instructed and walked over and stood behind their boss.
“I think you can go in now,” Broz told Maslovic. “They look like they’ve given up.”
Even with all that, the sergeant opened the door as if the ambush was still waiting, and Nasser and Rosen flanked either side of the double doors, weapons at the ready.
Maslovic took a deep breath and walked in. The two on either side followed him, still at the ready, and Ndulu, who was still bleeding but not badly from her earlier wound, brought up the rear directly in back of him.
“Ndulu, think you can collect the weapons and still be okay? That’s not a good-looking wound,” the sergeant asked, concerned.
“I’ll manage.”
The drill was then to cover those standing and sitting in front of them while the other two took the sides and explored the rooms, then went up both stairs and did the same upstairs to insure that there were no ugly surprises waiting for them there that the ferrets had somehow overlooked.
Nasser emerged from the far room on the right and said, “Clear!” Rosen was only a few seconds behind on the left. They started for the nearest stairs, but at just that moment Brigit Moran emerged from one of the rooms, yawned, then looked down into the great room and the scene below.
She looked puzzled for a moment, then spotted and recognized Maslovic. “Oh, hi!” she called out, sounding very friendly. She even gave him a little wave. “Can we play with your spaceship some more?”
IX: OF CABBAGES AND KINGS
“Inventory?” Lieutenant Commander Mohr still wasn’t sure if he was happy or panicked to have the girls back on board, let alone the others. Maybe both.
“Thirty-two of the so-called Magi stones, all of which are secured, all recovered from the bush lodge area,” Lieutenant Chung reported. “None of the subjects has been allowed near them, and they are in a secured vault.”
“I find it interesting that none of the stones were being worn by the principals when they were taken.”
“No, sir. They were carefully stored like precious objects. There may be many more at the city compound, but we felt it prudent not to return there, and particularly not to allow Macouri, Schwartz, or the two employees to return there. There is simply no telling what sort of mischief they could cause if they were able to get to controls that we could not.”
“I see. Yes, that’s probably best for now. You remained with the van after modifying it?”
“Yes, sir. That is my function, after all, in this sort of team.”
“But you were the one who surveyed the entire compound after it was secure and the principals moved?”
“Sir?”
“What I’m asking, Lieutenant, is for anything you might have found that you would not have expected to be there.”
“Nothing, sir. Oh. You mean, like… babies?”
“Or something like that.”
“No, sir. Nothing. Haven’t the young women told you what happened?”
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