China Mike

by P. A. Piatt

  “Boston’s a small town. It seems like the police should be able to root it out,” said Fortis.

  “Chief Schultz and his men keep the peace well enough, but they’re local. The chief used to be a hydraulic technician, and the rest of the force are also former employees. Any move by the police department against the resistance doesn’t stay secret for long.”

  “What about Chive?”

  The governor shook his head. “We tried that. Unfortunately, Mr. Chive and his men were heavy-handed with the colonists in Boston, and I had to restrict their activities to the facility. Frankly, they made the situation worse.”

  “I appreciate all this information, Governor, but what does this have to do with Marx and Landis?”

  Governor Czrk chuckled. “Straight to the point. I like that.” He cracked his knuckles. “Okay. Here’s the situation: I have a problem that you and your men can help me solve. You have the training and experience to act as an auxiliary force for the Security Directorate and help me deal with the China Mike cartel. We will identify and pinpoint the cartel members, and you will apprehend the suspects and turn them over to us. Once you have eliminated the resistance, or the ISMC sends a transport for you, I will drop all charges and release Marx and Landis to your custody, and they’ll be free to go.”

  The governor’s proposal stunned Fortis and he struggled to form a response.

  “Sir, my chain of command has to approve something like this. We’re not law enforcement; we aren’t authorized to arrest civilians.”

  Czrk dismissed his protests with a wave of his hand. “You don’t need approval, Lieutenant. We’ll call it training or something like that. I’ll have the chief deputize you and your men so all the paperwork is legitimate. I’ll even have the machine shop make you badges.”

  “Governor, this isn’t about paperwork and badges. We’re a military force. We’re trained to support and defend the United Nations of Terra.”

  The governor slammed his hand down on the desk. “Eros-28 is a critical industrial activity. The UNT government and business interests save trillions of credits every year when they send their equipment here for maintenance and overhaul instead of returning it to Terra Earth. There are over five thousand UNT citizens that live and work on this planet, and they face an enemy which our local security forces cannot cope with. Don’t they deserve the protection of the ISMC?”

  “Yes sir, they do, and if you had a bug problem or an alien life form threatening the colony, we would step up and fight. What I can’t do is commit my platoon to a local law enforcement matter without guidance from my chain of command.”

  Czrk scowled. “Have it your way, Lieutenant. You came to me and asked if there was anything I could do, and I’ve done my best to help you. If you don’t want my help, then the responsibility for what happens to those men is on you.” He stood up, and Fortis followed. “Good day, Lieutenant Fortis.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Badges? We don’t need no stinking badges!”

  Fortis and Ystremski were standing on the platform at the top of the periscope that overlooked Boston, out of earshot of the platoon. The lieutenant had just briefed his senior NCO on the governor’s offer.

  “I told him we couldn’t do it without direction from our chain of command. He wasn’t happy.”

  “Shit.” Ystremski spat into the dirt street below. “There are no good options, are there?”

  “None.” There was a long silence. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll send a report to Brickell. If he says it’s okay, I’ll go talk to the governor again.”

  Ystremski snorted. “Brickell? We might as well just stay here and get jobs washing drill rigs.” He spat again. “You know, LT, what if we took the governor up on his offer? What if we ran a couple operations, grabbed a few drug dealers, and got Marx and Landis sprung? What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Hmm. Let’s see. Some of our Marines could be wounded or killed. Bad for them, and hard for me to explain. We could kill a civilian or two. They wouldn’t even have to be innocent bystanders for that to be a problem. Then there’s always the chance that news of Space Marines raiding houses on Eros-28 would reach the ISMC. That would also be an issue.”

  “You’re looking at it the wrong way, sir. That’s worst-case scenario bullshit. Think positive. We’re trained to do this. We won’t be up against trained soldiers. Those guys are a bunch of drug dealers who won’t know their assholes from their elbows when we hit the door.”

  “You’re serious? You really think we should do this?”

  “Well, maybe. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with keeping our options open. Why don’t you find out exactly what he wants us to do and what’s involved?”

  Fortis stared at his friend for several long moments.

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe…

  * * *

  Security Director Chive burst into the governor’s office without knocking.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  Czrk’s face twisted with irritation at the intrusion. “He said no.”

  “No? How can he say no?”

  “He said his men aren’t law enforcement, and that he needs permission from his chain of command. I don’t think we have much to worry about, though. He didn’t sound eager to involve his higher-ups.”

  “You shouldn’t be eager to involve them, either. The GRC won’t like you inviting ISMC involvement into a problem they didn’t know existed, hmm?”

  “That’s true, but it’s a moot point. If the case is as weak as Schultz made it sound, I might as well dismiss the charges and let Marx and Landis go now.”

  Chive held up his hands. “Don’t be too hasty, Governor. I just returned from Boston, and we’ve got some new information on the location of some resistance members. If it pans out, we’re going to need Fortis and his men.”

  “Okay, Chive. We’ll do it your way, for now. If Fortis doesn’t work out, I’ll send Chief Schultz and his men. We need to get some results.”

  “Don’t worry. The Space Marines aren’t going anywhere for now, so let Fortis stew. Space Marines are nothing if not predictable. He’ll come around, because he won’t leave Marx and Landis behind.”

  * * *

  That night, Mikel Chive and Shag Wychan stood in their usual meeting spot with their heads together.

  “Some guy came to the Cock and Tail and asked a bunch of questions,” the bouncer told his boss. “Bartender called him a regular, but I haven’t seen him around much.”

  “Huh. What was he asking about?”

  “He didn’t talk to me, he went upstairs and talked to the prostitute, Shaysanda.”

  “Talked? Did you get a recording?”

  Wychan grimaced and shook his head. “Something went wrong with the microphone. I can hear voices, but they’re muffled. He wasn’t up there long, but they talked the whole time. I don’t think they did anything else.” He handed Chive a picture. “That’s what I got from the security camera at the door.”

  Chive recognized Jandahl, but he shook his head. “Nobody I know.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “See if you can find out what she told him,” Chive said. “Without beating it out of her.” He waved the picture. “Leave this one to me.”

  “Got it.”

  Wychan slipped out into the dark street. Chive waited and absently patted the pocket where he tucked the picture.

  What’s your game, Jandahl?

  * * *

  The following morning, Ystremski set the platoon to cleaning their berthing area while he and Fortis made their way to the governor’s office. They sat down in front of the desk and Lieutenant Fortis said, “Governor, I’ve discussed your proposal with my senior NCO, Corporal Ystremski, and we’d like to know some more details.”

  “I’m glad to see you here, Lieutenant. The plan is simple. You’d be working with Director Chive and his men. They would provide you with intelligence on China Mike cartel members, your men woul
d apprehend them, and then you’d turn them over to Chive.”

  “Chive? What about Chief Schultz?”

  “Like I told you before, Chief Schultz and the colonial police aren’t suitable for this because of their ties to the colonists. Chive and his men would guide you, take custody of any prisoners, and interview them to develop further leads. After the interviews, Chive would turn the prisoners over to the colonial police.”

  “They’d receive fair trials?”

  “I’m hoping trials won’t be necessary, but if trials are needed, then yes, they would be tried by the circuit judge. I don’t want to fill the jail with colonists who have friends and family members that work for me. I believe that approach will lead to more unhappiness and more unrest within my labor force. It would become a self-perpetuating cycle. Better to expose the cartel and trace the China Mike back to the source and eradicate it. That approach better serves the interests of GRC and our employees, I think.”

  Fortis and Ystremski traded looks, and the corporal arched his eyebrows.

  “Governor, I’m in a tough spot here, but I think you know that.” Fortis watched Czrk’s face for a reaction, and he thought he saw the shadow of a smile. “My chain of command made it clear that we’re to remain ready for a no-notice extraction, and that does not include conducting raids across the city against a drug cartel.”

  “It didn’t include a drunken liberty run to the Cock and Tail, either.” The governor’s eyes had an amused twinkle, and Fortis was forced to concede the point with a tight grimace.

  “That was my mistake.”

  “So, does my proposal sound like something you’d be interested in?”

  “What about gear?” asked Ystremski. “We didn’t bring any tactical gear or weapons. Does the cartel have weapons?”

  “I don’t know what we have for missions like this. There’s never been a crime committed here with a weapon as long as I’ve been governor. They probably have knives, but I’m unaware of any civilian firearms in the colony. The colonial police have an armory you can borrow weapons from, and I’m sure they have radios and whatever else you might need.”

  Fortis sensed that the detailed questions annoyed the governor, so he knew he would have to talk with Chief Schultz to get an accurate picture of available equipment.

  “Chief Schultz has agreed to this?”

  “Chief Schultz does what I tell him to do,” Governor Czrk replied. “He will provide whatever you need, without complaint. So, you’ll do it?”

  Fortis and Ystremski stood up. “I think so, Governor, but you need to understand one thing. I can’t order my men to do this; it would be an illegal order that contravenes the order we received from Battalion. Corporal Ystremski and I will muster the platoon and explain your offer, but they have to volunteer.”

  “Very well, Lieutenant, but don’t delay too long.”

  * * *

  Jandahl fell into step alongside Spears as the mechanic trudged home after a double shift cleaning and repairing equipment recovered from the collapsed garage. Many of his coworkers stopped at the bars of Dirt Alley to ride the edge of the China Mike they had taken to push through their extended shift, but Shears looked too tired to even acknowledge Jandahl’s presence.

  “Any news?” asked the intelligence operative.

  Spears shook his head as he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. “Digging out Garage Number Seven. Any word on Raisa?”

  “Nothing. None of my sources reported anything about her.” Technically this was true, but only because Jandahl hadn’t asked. He figured that workers would find Raisa’s body buried in the garage, the victim of her own sabotage.

  “How’s the digging going? Much progress?”

  “It would be faster if Chive and his men didn’t stop us to remove the drugs when we uncover it. We had to stop six times and wait for them to remove China Mike from the equipment on the last shift.”

  Jandahl stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Wait a second. GRC security is removing it? Not the colonial police?”

  “The mercenaries said they’re turning it over to the conglomerate, not the colony.”

  “The GRC doesn’t—” Jandahl caught himself. “What I mean is, the word around headquarters is that the resistance is selling China Mike to fund their activities.”

  Spears shook his head. “No way. Absolutely not. The GRC brings that shit in to keep us working. The resistance is fighting to keep it out. That’s why Raisa targeted Garage Number Seven.”

  Jandahl mentally turned over what Spears was telling him. Spears’ information jibed with what Shaysanda had told him about the China Mike cartel, that it was actually the GRC, but he knew that wasn’t true. He knew from his mission tasking on Eros-28 that the GRC wasn’t behind the drug trade.

  Then who?

  He looked around and realized Spears had stopped walking.

  “Sorry,” he stammered. “My mind started to wander for a second there.”

  Spears gestured to the house where he had stopped. “This is my place.”

  “Ah, yeah, okay.” He turned to leave.

  “Hey, Jandahl. One more thing. One of my guys, a mechanic by the name of Glenn Deale, has disappeared. He hasn’t been to work for a couple shifts, and he hasn’t been home. Anybody talking about him at headquarters?”

  Jandahl shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything about a missing worker. You sure he’s not on a bender? Maybe he’s riding the edge somewhere.”

  Spears shook his head. “Not Deale; he hates China Mike. He’s not on a bender. Something’s wrong.”

  “Report it to the colonial police. Maybe they know where he’s at.”

  Spears sighed and put a hand on his door. “Yeah, I guess so. I gotta get some sleep.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter Eighteen

  Third Platoon gathered in a semi-circle in the berthing compartment. Fortis wanted the informal gathering to convey that this was a discussion and not a briefing followed by orders. Every eye was on the young officer who looked from face to face and made eye contact with every one of them. He wanted to pace, but he forced himself to stand still, his hands clasped behind his back.

  “I talked with Governor Czrk about Marx and Landis. He won’t release them until they’ve been tried in court, and the circuit court judge won’t be here for eight weeks.”

  Several of the men grumbled while others shook their heads. Fortis waited for several seconds before continuing.

  “If we leave without them, the ISMC will declare them AWOL, designate them as deserters, and court martial them when they return to duty.”

  “That’s bullshit!” blurted Private First Class Davis

  Fortis nodded. “You’re right. It is bullshit. No doubt about it.” He punched his fist into his other palm. “However…” He stopped and searched their faces again. “However, the governor has offered a solution. Apparently, there is a resistance movement in the colony that funds their activities by dealing China Mike. The colonial police and security force have been unable to deal with them. Governor Czrk has agreed to drop all the charges against Marx and Landis if we conduct some raids and arrest some suspects for them.”

  The Space Marines nodded and smiled at each other.

  “When do we start, sir?” called Corporal Anderson. Fortis held up his hands, and the group fell silent.

  “There are some things you need to understand about this offer. What the governor has proposed violates the orders of Colonel Sobieski, the Battalion commander. He ordered Third Platoon to be prepared for no-notice extraction. If we go into the city and do this, we will be liable for failure to obey a lawful order. What’s more, I can’t order you to do this, because that would be an illegal order. If something goes wrong, there would only be so much cover I could give you.”

  Fortis started pacing; he couldn’t stand still any longer.

  “If you volunteer, and the ISMC finds out, you might face charges.” The S
pace Marines exchanged glances. “I know a little something about facing charges, and it’s no picnic.”

  The veterans laughed, and the cherries looked confused.

  “If you’re wounded, the ISMC could force you to repay them for your medical care. If you’re killed, they could refuse to pay out death benefits to your family.” He scanned their faces, but he couldn’t read them.

  “This is strictly voluntary. What you decide is your choice. You’re under no obligation to participate. No man in this room will face penalty or sanction, no matter what he decides. I’ll leave the room and let you discuss it among yourselves. Corporal Ystremski, take charge of the platoon. I’ll be in the gym.”

  Ten minutes later, Ystremski joined him.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Unanimous; first vote. We’re in.”

  Fortis took a deep breath and exhaled as he shook his head. “You know, Gunny Hawkins kicked my ass back on Pada-Pada when I took a vote among Warrant Pell and you sergeants. And here I am doing it again, only this time I’m polling a bunch of privates.”

  “Gunny Hawkins was one helluva a Space Marine, sir, but this time you did the right thing.”

  Fortis fought down the lump in the back of his throat. “I hardly knew him, but he died saving my life, you know.”

  “Yeah.”

  After a long moment of silence, Ystremski slapped Fortis on the shoulder and laughed. “Let’s go, Pig Dog.”

  Fortis laughed at the hated nickname Captain Reese had tried to adopt when he commanded Foxtrot Company.

  “Pig Dog, my ass,” he said. “Let’s do the deed.”

  * * *

  Shaysanda was wigless when Wychan entered the room without knocking.

  “Not so fast, lover…oh. It’s you. What do you want?”

  “You had a john last night, wanted to ask some questions. What did he want?”