Wings of Steele: Revenge and Retribution

by Jeffrey Burger

  “The Three Percenters,” nodded Chase.

  “Yep. And about half of those were our Guardians,” added Dan. “No shit dyed-in-the-wool patriots, willing to do whatever was needed. The end result was the BLM returned most of the confiscated animals and pulled out. They knew they were seriously out manned and outgunned.”

  “Nice...”

  Dan smirked, “Here's the kicker; the BLM wanted the entire valley for a solar farm deal one of Nevada's very own senators cooked up with a Chinese conglomerate. Selling out Americans to line his own filthy, greedy pockets.”

  Chase rolled his eyes, “Holy shit... not just Americans but his very own constituents. Can't get much lower than that.”

  “Snake's belly in a wagon rut,” chirped Rain.

  “Sadly,” added Dan cutting back in, “I think it's a short-term win. The BLM will wait it out and when there's less coverage, less attention, they'll sweep back in. Probably at night... scoop up the entire family. Then they'll have free reign to do whatever they want to.”

  “That's not going to be pretty...”

  “No it's not. One way or the other those folks are going to disappear; a dark cell or a bodybag... At this point I don't think the government's going to be picky.”

  “That may be the second shot heard round the world...”

  Dan sipped his iced tea, “I'd like to say I hope it will end all peaches and cream but I think that's ignoring the white elephant in the room. I hate to say it, I really do, but I think there's a good chance things could get really ugly... for all of us.”

  Chase stared at his glass in silence for a long moment. “So what's Project Ascension?” he asked slowly.

  “The X-37B Spaceplane. The first one set a record at four-hundred-sixty-nine consecutive days in orbit. A secret mission for the military... directly tied to Project Zenith. Everyone thinks there's just one of these but there's a second one in orbit that's been up there over five-hundred days. Same mission.”

  Chase sat back unconsciously biting his lower lip, “Intelligence gathering on all the satellites in space...”

  “Exactly. And just FYI, those two are not the only X-37s they have. While the latest one has been orbiting up there, three more have been completed. There's about ten now.”

  Chase rubbed his face, “One is research, two or three is transport or testing... ten is weaponizing.”

  ■ ■ ■

  The small established observation area near the peak of the ridge overlooked Dugway and the cloudless sky full of stars promised a night for clear photos and video. Chase adjusted the camouflaged poncho with the foil lining around him. “Do these things really work?”

  “So far so good. Can't wear the damn things during the day, too fucking hot. But then trying to pick us up with thermal during the day surrounded by hot rocks in the sun is fruitless. As long as we stay hidden we're golden. At night though, as soon as everything cools off...”

  “Yeah we used thermal all the time in Afghanistan. It has its limitations though. Range mainly... So what are we looking for?”

  “UFOs, helicopters, convoys that disappear into the ground, lasers... whatever.”

  Chase was staring through the telephoto lens on the digital camera, “Y'know, I can see a service road just inside the fence line... not much of a fence either...”

  “Don't need one, it's mined.”

  Chase pulled away from the camera looking over at Dan in the darkness, barely visible, “You're shitting me.”

  “Nope. Warning sign's say unexploded ordnance but that's to cover their asses. They have it mined.”

  Chase shook his head, “I don't know if I totally believe that or not... I don't want to believe it. But if it's true it's a sad comment on what's happening in the United States,” he sighed. “Sometimes I don't recognize this country anymore.”

  It was silent for a while, nothing but the desert breeze and an occasional cricket.

  “So um, you and Karen... you a thing?”

  “Yeah. It was a fate thing. But it's good. You and Rain?”

  “Yeah, she's terrific. She's a lawyer... or was. Worked in a big firm in Salt Lake, did pro-bono work on the side for the tribes in the area – give back to the community and all that. She took a client suing the government over a death that occurred at the military depot on Route 73...”

  “We passed two; one on the right side of Route 36 then later one on the left... The one on the left looked like the biggest.”

  “The one on the right. It stretches between routes 36 and 73.”

  “It looked abandoned...”

  “That's what they want you to think, but not hardly. Anyway, some teenage Indian kids were out there exploring and base security stopped them and held them. Killed one accidentally while they were in custody.”

  “Oh God...”

  “Turns out, Rain's firm does a lot of government work and they ordered her to drop the case. It was on her own time and her own dime so she refused. They fired her; she sued her own law firm and won.”

  “Nice. What about the lawsuit for the kid?”

  “She had to abandon it, she started getting death threats. Then of course there were the black SUVs following her. She hid out on one of the local reservations. With a little digging, the Order found that her firm secretly represented the DOE.”

  “Department of Energy,” groaned Chase, “previously known as the Atomic Energy Commission... terrific. So these guys then,” he thumbed over his shoulder at the base below.

  “Yep.”

  “Purveyors of the finest, most thorough, most horrific destructive devices known to man. They're going to figure out yet, how to make the human race extinct...” he sighed.

  “Here's the kicker,” added Dan, waggling his finger. “With a little more digging, we found that the base in question, which everyone thought was an annex of the larger Army depot closer to town, is actually a CIA weapons, ammunition and equipment depot. Code named, Midwest Depot.”

  Chase rolled his eyes. “Let's go home, Dan...”

  “Florida? I'm not going back,” countered Dan, “there's nothing for me there...”

  “Fine,” interrupted Chase, “screw it, I'll go back.”

  Dan Murphy started to laugh, “Man, you can't go home. You can never go home... Ever. If they caught up with you, you'd never see the light of day again. You'd probably end up in a shallow unmarked grave.”

  “Yeah, I know, it just sounded good. For a minute.” Frankly, this situation didn't seem to have a very bright future either.

  ■ ■ ■

  The night had passed quickly and it was active enough to keep them both busy. Under the shade of the camouflage net, reviewing the night's photos and video footage on the laptop at breakfast, Dan busied himself with uploading everything they had gotten onto a server hidden somewhere on the Deep Web. “This is some good stuff... Uh-oh, what's this? Hmm, interesting, we're being directed to Groom Lake...”

  Mechanically eating his scrambled eggs, Chase Holt was staring blankly at the back of Dan's laptop. He raised his eyebrows, “Area 51?”

  “Yep. I don't know about you but I'm bushed. We'll get some rest first and leave this evening; we should be there before morning.”

  Chase's mind was still playing back the night's events. “There's got to be a huge base underneath... over fifty deuce-and-a-halfs and MRAPS went into that hangar. I'd love a chance to see what's down there. Where did the helicopters go? I was concentrating on the ground vehicles.”

  Dan shook his head, “You mean after they buzzed us? I thought they'd seen us for sure. Two landed between the hangars on the other side and the other two flew off.”

  “Any idea what those other lights in the sky were?”

  “You mean the...”

  “Yeah, those.”

  Dan looked up over the screen of the laptop. “Nope.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  FREERANGER – DD217, WHISPERFIRE SYSTEM : MEE-OW

  Sitting at a dead stop a quarter of
the way through the system, Commander T. B. Yafusco and Lieutenant Dash Zarnev were comparing notes on the holo-chart in the ship's ready room, examining the Whisperfire System.

  Tibby Yafusco dropped himself into the lounger and kicked his feet up. “I don't know Dash, I think we've lost them. Sensors aren't picking up a damn thing. That ass at Rega Station screwed us bad; put us too far behind. Somewhere between Rega and here, they altered course.

  Dash Zarnev rubbed the back of his neck in exasperation. “I swear to the Gods, Tibbs,” he waved at the chart, “I was studying this route and this system twenty-four hours ago, and that station...” he pointed, “wasn't on the map.”

  Tibby wasn't so much listening as he was brooding. “I think that pompous ass lied to us... I'm betting they paid him to stall us. It makes sense,” he mused, bringing his steepled fingertips to his lips in contemplation. “Why else would he have held us off station for so long...? We should go back to Rega and have a little old-fashioned talk with him...” He was staring at the wall deaf and blind except for the daydream in his mind's eye.

  “TIBBY!”

  Disrupting his plot, Yafusco shot Dash a scowl, “WHAT?!” he barked back, throwing his hands wide.

  “Forget the fucking Imperator, will you please?” He stuck his arm into the hologram, his index finger touching the marker of the unnamed mining station orbiting the fourth planet. “This station wasn't on the map twenty-four hours ago...”

  “Aaah,” Tibby waved it off like he was physically casting the idea aside, “you probably just missed it...”

  Indignant, Dash Zarnev straightened up and turned his back to the table, leaning back against it, his head cocked to one side, staring at his commanding officer, “When have I ever missed something like that?”

  Yafusco nodded acknowledgment, “OK, never. But that doesn't mean anything... It could be a glitch in the chart system or a simple update.”

  “Or someone entered it into the system.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” shrugged Tibby. “But that could be anybody. Any ship traveling through a system can submit a navigational or structural position report.”

  “Or maybe, that UFW task force did it.”

  “At this point I think that's a big maybe...”

  “C'mon, Tibby, it's a pretty big coincidence that we're following this group and this station suddenly appears.”

  “Yeah but it could be just that, a coincidence. I'm not sure I want to risk going any further. We're getting a little stipend from the FreeRanger Council to investigate but we can't count on that if there's nothing to report. Expenses and supplies will be coming out of our bottom line.”

  The door from the bridge slid open with a hiss, Grinah stepping in and standing in the doorway, “Sorry to bother you, but Kindre Thurmer and her first officer are shuttling over from the DD62...” She placed her hands on her hips with a snarky little smile creeping across her lips, “I guess she figured it was time for a little reunion..?”

  Tibby pointed accusingly at his wife to be, “Don't start with me, woman...”

  Grinah's snarky little smile remained, “As long as she doesn't start anything with you...”

  ■ ■ ■

  Commander Kindre Thurmer was at least a head taller than Grinah but that was not something Grinah was concerned about. The woman walked like a jungle cat looking for something to kill. And eat. It was simply unnerving to watch her walk into a room. Of course you wouldn't know it by looking at the men; drooling and panting like horny little puppies wanting to hump her leg. It was almost sickening to watch. Tibby was right, she was almost so beautiful it was distracting... disturbing. She was perfect. All the more reason for Grinah to dislike her, which she did almost instantly. It was an impulse. Like the impulse to tear at her face and scratch her eyes out... Whoah! What the hellion was that? Grinah shook off the feeling.

  “Kindre Thurmer,” she said, extending her hand, “and this is my first officer, Lieutenant Heunter LeStarn.”

  “Grinah.” She politely shook the hands of the enchantress and her officer, who looked too much like a boy-toy. “Commander Yafusco thought it might be best dining here in the ready room; a little more privacy.”

  Kindre made herself at home on the leather settee, her first officer inspecting the holo-chart. “And where is Mr. Tibby this evening?”

  For some reason that irked Grinah. “He and our first officer, Mr. Zarnev, will be with us in a moment. Can I get you a drink?”

  “Why yes my dear, how nice,” she waved regally, adjusting the hem of her skirt; an odd uniform choice for a ship's Commander. “So what is your position here, Ensign..?”

  With her back to the Commander, Grinah caught the antipathy, wickedly reversing the proportions of Kleer and mixer in the glass. She turned and walked the drink over to the woman on the settee, “Bridge officer and wife,” she replied casually. The change of expression was brief and slight but Grinah caught that too. The first sip was a visible shock and she rather enjoyed seeing the instant change in complexion as Kindre Thurmer forced it down, eyes watering. “Oh, I'm sorry,” Grinah said innocently. “Did I make that too strong?” She shook her head accepting the glass back, “I'm so used to mixing them for Tibby. He loves them that way, you know... Let me try again.”

  “No need,” coughed Kindre, “I can... wait... for dinner...”

  “Nonsense, can't have our guests going thirsty...” She remixed the drink in palatable proportions, walking it back over to the more humble Kindre who accepted it with a measure of caution. “Can I get you something Mr. LeStarn?”

  Eyes wide, he shook his head and waved it off, “No thanks, I'm fine...”

  ■ ■ ■

  Dinner was completely informal, conversation light and casual; overall friendly and uneventful, Kindre behaving herself under Grinah's watchful gaze. Wine glass in hand, the Commander was still sitting on the leather settee, watching the holo-chart animations. “I'm not sure just giving up our pursuit is a good idea Tibby.”

  “You just don't want to lose the Council's mission stipend...” waved Yafusco.

  “No, of course not. Do you?”

  “There's a point of diminishing return here somewhere, Kindra, and I think we're at it. Or near it. If we don't have something to report soon, they're going to pull the plug. And we'll end up deadheading back on our own dime. In case you hadn't noticed, this is not FreeRanger territory and we're alone out here...”

  “I understand what you're saying...”

  Yafusco shook his head, “If our ships had GOD drives I'd feel a lot better about a hasty exit if we had to make one. But...”

  “But we could get jumped by fighters if we're not careful. I get it.”

  Tibby sipped his nearly straight Kleer, producing a wince, its sharp heat burning on the way down. “There's at least six other routes between Rega Station and here. They could be anywhere. Two years ago, I would've been able to tell you where they probably went. Their patrols were predictable...”

  Kindre uncrossed her legs and stood up, smoothing her skirt, moving over to the holo-table. “They've definitely changed tactics and patrol patterns, I've noticed that.”

  “According to the Imperator's description, this may be the same task force from the fight in Velora Prime...”

  “I heard that was a mess for us...”

  Tibby's face tightened, “You heard right. We missed it by half a day but we saw some of the ships coming out of the area. They were in bad shape.”

  “We never got close, we were doing escorts on the Fringe.”

  “Probably a good thing. There weren't many survivors.”

  Kindre sipped her wine. “What was the name of that ship...? The one with the bounty on it...?”

  “Freedom,” replied Heunter LeStarn. “And nobody seems to be able to confirm what happened to it...”

  Kindre nodded, “I heard there are a few claims on her demise but the Council is refusing to pay out the bounty because there's no confirmation...”

  Tibby
smirked and shook his head at the same time, “I had a feeling that was going to come back and bite them in the ass somehow.” He sipped his Kleer, his mind wandering back to his conversation with the Imperator of Rega Station. “Something the Imperator said keeps bothering me...”

  “What's that?”

  “The task force had a new Admiral. Jack Steele... Ever heard the name before?”

  “Can't say that I have. Have you?”

  Tibby's eyes narrowed. “Yeah. In Zender's Trek from a Maultier ore transport crew we rescued. They barely made it out of Velora Prime. Got shot up in the process. Their ship was owned by McSuddeth Mining...”

  “Who is a subsidiary of VirTech Mining,” interrupted Grinah. They lost a ship a couple months earlier in Haruna Tier... to the Freedom. VirTech's communications with the Freedom listed the captain as Jack Steele.”

  “A cruiser with fighters,” added Tibby. “They're the ones who took out our cruiser later that day. The Skipper overextended our GOD jump and we went in depleted. We were a sitting duck.”

  “I remember reading that report,” said Kindre. “I didn't realize... You've got a bit of history tied up in this.”

  Yafusco stared at his glass, “A little bit. But what the hell is he doing on an Oijin class carrier. As an Admiral? Did he lose the Freedom?”

  Kindre Thurmer leaned against the holo-table with her hip, “It's an obvious reward for the victory in Velora Prime, if you ask me. And I think we should keep going... you'll never forgive yourself if you don't.”

  “Maybe...”

  “You know as well as I do, it'll eat you up if you just let it go now.” She pointed at the chart, “Look, if you had to guess... your best guess, where did they go?”

  Tibby motioned over at Dash Zarnev. “The Lieutenant noticed an anomaly on the system chart that wasn't there on earlier review... It could be nothing...”

  “But if it's not,” urged Kindre, “if it is them, then they're heading that way,” she pointed at the gate to Elyse Core.