by Danny Loomis
He nodded. “I think that’s an excellent idea. You don’t need to come back with me to our encampment, so maybe you can do some good here.”
“I shall provide you with all the information you feel is needed,” Lissa said. “I will inform the Elders of your wishes. Since we consider all those being held to be dead, any attempt that could save even one life would be most welcome.”
For the next two hours Ian’s fire team and Brita pored over maps of the area. Ideas came rapidly at first, but as each was found to be flawed the brainstorming soon slowed to a trickle.
“The problem is only two tunnels are close enough to be of any use for evacuation purposes. Even they’re too small to get very many out in a hurry,” Brita said. “Plus anything we do will probably key the Alliance forces to the fact that Confederation forces are here.”
Throughout the past hour Ian had grown increasingly quiet while studying the maps with microscopic care. “Y’know, you’re right. Whatever we do, it has to wait until our forces are safe. But then… I think I’ve got an idea.”
Ten minutes later, Captain Stanton joined them just as Ian wrapped up an explanation of his plan. “What’s up? Sounds as if you might have something in mind for a rescue attempt.”
Brita gave him a predatory smile. “Yes, Sir. I think Ian’s hit on an idea. It’ll take a couple days to set up and verify it has a chance of working, which should give you time to get our forces under better cover. Let me give you a quick overview, sir.”
Captain Stanton’s eyes narrowed as he listened. Finally, he nodded. “I like it. Extremely risky, but if anyone can pull it off, it’s you guys. I’ll expect a complete plan by the time I get back. Then I’ll tell you if it’s a go or not.”
“Sounds good, Sir,” Brita said. “Hurry back.”
VANPORT (DAY +32):
General Lambert leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. Another incident for him to worry about. This time ten of his storm troopers had been killed, stacked up like so much cordwood and set afire. They had the devil’s own time identifying remains. That made, let’s see, thirty killed since they’d made their unopposed landing.
Colonel Gerlach paused at the door to his office, a data cube held gingerly in his hand. More bad news probably. “Come in, Colonel. What is it this time?”
The Colonel handed the cube to him, and assumed a position of attention in front of his desk. General Lambert sighed in resignation. Five years together and Gerlach still refused to relax with him. “Please be at ease,” he said.
Gerlach nodded sharply and assumed a crisp position of parade rest. “The latest lab reports on the evidence gathered at the scene of yesterday’s incident, sir.”
“Anything interesting?” he asked, placing the cube in a reader and powering it up.
“Very interesting, General. All dead from knife wounds or blows to their person from something strong enough to break bones and damage internal organs.”
Lambert scanned through the sixth autopsy report, stopped, and returned to it.
“How about this one? Severe trauma to the head. Two small holes in the forehead, massive brain damage. Also had his throat slashed.” He felt a bit of an itch at the back of his mind. Somewhere he’d seen these kind of punctures before.
Gerlach looked surprised. “I thought the throat injury had killed him, sir.”
“Not according to this report. Incapacitating but not deadly. It was the head trauma that did him in.” Reading on, he came across two more, dead from multiple puncture wounds.
“This is very familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.” He came to an abrupt decision. “I’ve highlighted portions of this report that raise questions in my mind. Send it on up to Admiral Haven. I’d like his Intel personnel to give me their thoughts about it.”
“Immediately, General.” Gerlach did a precise about-face and marched from the office. Watching him go, Lambert shook his head tiredly. Just like he had a broomstick up his ass. What a martinet. He chuckled as he pictured the Colonel busily starching and ironing his shorts.
He shook off the image, and turned to the unpleasant task of signing the order for another group of Edoans to be executed. Even though he had been the one to implement this policy, he still disliked it. Usually having a population held hostage to the actions of a few worked well in the short run. But not here. When they went to gather the next batch to be executed, there was a continual clamor by the hostages to be the ones taken. What kind of people were these? Disquieting. Very disquieting indeed. Tomorrow he’d better talk with the Grand Admiral about re-thinking this particular policy. Too many martyrs being made. Rubbing his eyes again, he keyed to the next report.
* * *
Colonel Gerlach entered his office and looked sharply around to ensure his staff came to rigid attention, even while sitting. Good. It had been several days since he’d had to counsel any of them on their sloppiness. He marched through the reception area into his private office, crooking a finger at his assistant, Major Rickard. Once seated behind his desk, he looked across its gleaming surface to his aide.
“The General feels this report should be seen by the Grand Admiral’s intelligence chief. See it is sent, Major.”
“What priority, Sir?”
“Um, well, he didn’t seem too excited. Make it level three, normal channels.”
“Yes, Sir.” His aide spun about and marched from his office. Colonel Gerlach nodded in satisfaction and reached for his reader. Major Rickard was a blessing. Since he’d become his second-in-charge, the office had taken on a much higher level of spit and polish. Very satisfying.
He’d barely gotten into his first personnel report when his comm chimed. He flicked it on in barely concealed annoyance at the change in routine. “Yes?” he snapped.
“Sir, there’s been an incident at Storage Warehouse number six. They would like a security detail to investigate a theft.”
Gerlach tapped his chin in thought. Number six. Wasn’t that one of the munitions warehouses? Yes, ammunition for the tanks and land mines. Time to shake up the troops.
“Tell Major Rickard to form up a platoon. I’ll investigate this myself.”
The cavalcade that eventually started towards Warehouse number six had grown by one tank. Gerlach wanted to make as impressive an entrance as possible, not aware of the sneering laughter he’d caused with his demands.
“You can always spot those who’ve never been in combat,” commented one NCO, watching the parade approach.
The tank rolled up to the warehouse, and Gerlach signaled a halt. He jumped to the ground and marched over to the closest trooper. “Where is your commander? We are here to investigate the break-in.”
The soldier came to a semblance of attention and pointed to the double sliding doors of the warehouse. “Just inside and to the left, Sir. In the office.”
Four soldiers gathered around a small conference table sprang to attention as Gerlach and Major Rickard entered the office. “At ease, gentlemen. I am Colonel Gerlach, the Division Security Officer. What’ve you found so far?”
“Sir, I’m Lieutenant Hauk. It seems we’re missing two pallets of munitions. Here’s a hard copy of the inventory, plus a detailed floor plan of the facility.”
“Very good, Lieutenant. Let’s look at the location first-hand, shall we?”
“Colonel, we’ve just established a perimeter force. Don’t you think it’d be best if we waited until our troops do a detailed sweep of the warehouse?”
“Nonsense, Lieutenant. We can take a squad with us. Lead on.”
“As you wish, Sir.” He gestured to his men.
Minutes later they gathered around a small area that was cordoned off with bright yellow tape. “How do you think they got in here?” Gerlach asked.
“We don’t know, Colonel. There are no signs of forced entry, nor are there any drag marks in this area.”
“How about marks in the dust?” asked Major Rickard.
“That’s the most puzzling thing of all.
No dust.”
“Did you say no dust?” asked the Colonel.
“Correct. It’s as if someone vacuumed this entire place.”
“Er—pardon me, Sir,” one of the NCOs said. “That’s something done in every building in the city. They have automatic cleaning capability, even the warehouses.”
The officers stared at him, then each other. “What else don’t we know about this Godforsaken city?” Gerlach asked. “What exactly was taken from here?”
“Two hundred and forty anti-personnel mines, one hundred anti-tank mines,” the Lieutenant said. “We’re still conducting an inventory, but so far that looks like everything.”
Gerlach shook his head in annoyance. “Major, let’s leave the Lieutenant to his investigation. Where is the inventory team now?”
“Ten rows straight ahead of you and to your right, Sir,” said Lieutenant Hauk. “Let me assign some guards…”
“Never mind, Lieutenant. Just carry on. We’ll catch up with you later.” Gerlach strode off, his aide close behind.
“Look how high they stack this small arms ammunition,” Gerlach said. “The manual clearly states no more than three pallets high. These stacks are all at least four or even five. Disgraceful.” The Colonel spotted several tall cylinders when they turned a corner.
“Nerve gas. I wonder how many canisters we brought with us?” Outlawed for use in warfare, the Alliance had shipped it with the task force under the label of “pest control.” A little squirt of it in a chamber filled with prisoners tended to save ammunition.
He stopped to pat one of the cylinders. “One of my favorite tools for putting down an insurrection. How about you, Major?” he asked, glancing back. No one was behind him. He raised his voice. “Major? Where are you? Come here at once!”
Other than a soft echo of his voice, there was silence. He felt the hair stand on the back of his neck, fear creeping in. Drawing his pistol he hastened back towards the front of the warehouse.
Gerlach hurried around a corner and was struck a blow to his helmet. He dropped into a crouch and fired blindly—to his front, both sides, rear. Not until he had expended the fourteen rounds in his magazine did he cease. He straightened and was again bumped on the helmet, lightly this time. Looking up he saw his aide dangling from a wire wrapped about his neck. Whimpering sounds escaped Gerlach’s throat, and he backed away from the sight. Something closed around his left ankle and jerked him breathlessly into the air, to swing next to his aide. His whimpers turned to screams.
Unseen by him a shadowy figure scuttled into view, strung a tripwire across the aisle and disappeared. Four troopers sprinted around the corner. The searing blast of an antipersonnel mine shredded all four of them. Lieutenant Hauk, just rounding the corner, had his right leg broken and badly cut from flying debris. Gerlach was knocked senseless by the concussive blast, but escaped further injury due to focus of the explosion being no more than one meter above the floor. Silence settled on the gruesome scene, topped off by the gently swinging bodies of Colonel Gerlach and his dead aide.
* * *
A quiet rap on Grand Admiral Haven’s door signaled his upcoming conference with Major Vogel. “Come,” he said, turning his view screen off. A call from Vogel just minutes ago was the first time he’d heard any excitement in his voice. He was surprised at the barely suppressed eagerness of the Major when he entered.
“Pardon the intrusion, Admiral. I’ve come across some information I thought you should see soon as possible.” He placed a data cube in front of the Admiral. “This information came by normal communications; no priority assigned.”
William placed the cube in his reader, and scanned its contents. Minutes later he shut it off and gave Vogel a sardonic look. “It seems General Lambert’s intel chief isn’t able to understand what constitutes a priority level message. You say this was sent by normal communications channels?”
“Yes, Sir. I think the wounds to the three soldiers General Lambert highlighted are proof we have an unknown number of Confederate soldiers on the planet. Request I be allowed to go find and destroy them.”
“Normally I’d be hesitant to allow it, but I just got word about Colonel Gerlach being attacked.”
Vogel nodded. “Yes, Admiral. The doctors think he’ll need a full psych evaluation before he can return to service.”
“Let’s get Commander Odell in here and talk this over,” William said.
After Vogel briefed the Intelligence chief, William gave Odell a questioning look.
“This signals a sharp rise in the past twenty-four hours, Admiral,” Odell said. “That prick Gerlach may have been a prima donna, but he was good at his job. Until now.”
“That’s right, Commander. Until now.” William leaned back in his chair and locked fingers behind his head. “I’ve decided to send someone down to look into the problem.” He nodded towards Vogel, standing at ease beside his desk.
“He thinks we may have more than just the Edoans involved now. See that he’s placed in charge of the battalion of Commandos. I hear their chain of command was taken ill two days ago. Something about poison lizards getting in their living quarters.” He shook his head in annoyance and leaned forward again. “Send Colonel Gerlach home on the first ship. I have no use for someone who follows the book so blindly it hinders their abilities.”
“At once, Admiral,” Commander Odell said as he left.
“Major, stay a moment,” William said. Both men waited until the Commander had closed the door. “You were right. Too much critical information was being mis-prioritized. Luckily your men were monitoring the message traffic.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Vogel said with a tight smile. “Also thank you for your vote of confidence with the battalion. With such troops as these, I won’t fail you.”
“Remember, besides destroying any Confederation troops on this planet, prisoners are of prime importance. We must find someone who knows the tunnel systems under the city, and how extensive they are. That will go a long way to break the resistance.”
“Do I also have your permission to halt the executions of the hostages, Admiral?”
“Reluctantly, Major. I still think in the short run we’d break their spirit.”
“If these Edoans reacted like normal people I’d agree with you, Sir. However, I think it’s in our best interests to use them in another manner.”
“So you think they’d work best as bait?”
“If there are Confederation soldiers on the planet, they’ll be unable to resist a dramatic rescue attempt if there’s enough of an incentive.”
William stepped around his desk and offered his hand to a startled Major Vogel. “Good luck, Major. Bring me back some good news for a change.” William watched Major Vogel leave the room. He’s become my man, he thought. He no longer answers to Victor. Deep in thought, he seated himself behind his desk.
With the Major in his camp, he could ensure Victor only received information vetted by him. Not yet, though, he decided. There were still the two other campaigns to bring to fruition. Soon he would have to leave this theater of operations and direct the others. Then he could think about how to use this new tool. He turned to his reader and soon became enmeshed in the never-ending red tape arising from a successful invasion.
* * *
Major Vogel stared out the portal while the attack shuttle circled Vanport. “Once more around. Concentrate on the northwest side, please.” Again the craft circled to the west. “Lower. Get me lower.”
“Any lower and we just as well land, Major,” the pilot said.
Vogel ignored the comment and intently studied the rows of structures and parks below. “All right, let’s land at the airfield.” The pilot banked and headed for the spaceport.
Once on the ground Vogel walked into the Wolfshead Division headquarters, situated on the first and second floors of the landing tower.
“I’m Major Vogel, the new commander of the Second Commando Battalion,” he said to the clerk. “Would you see if General
Lambert is available?”
Minutes later he was escorted into the General’s office. He stopped in front of his desk and snapped off a perfect salute. “Major Vogel reporting, General.”
“Welcome, Major. You come highly recommended by the Grand Admiral. A good man to have on your side. Please have a seat. I’d like to talk with you a moment.”
“Of course, Sir. I’m at your command.”
General Lambert smiled sardonically at that. “In theory, you are right. In practice, it’s somewhat different. The Admiral feels you should be given a free hand to run down the resistance that seems to be growing. What are your thoughts?”
“I’m flattered by the Admiral’s trust. I want you to know I won’t bypass your command, except in the most extreme of circumstances. I feel it’s imperative I keep you informed of my actions so we won’t duplicate each other’s efforts.”
Lambert relaxed into a more natural smile. “Good. You can start by briefing me on what today’s meeting with the Admiral was about.”
Vogel stood. “I’d be glad to, General. But I think it best if I show you from the air. Do you mind if we take a ride, Sir?”
“Good idea. I’ve been desk-bound all day. Time to get out in the open,” he said.
Minutes later they were airborne, orbiting the city at a thousand meters.
“General, we feel your headquarters is compromised. Either listening devices or someone has tapped into your hard line commo.”
Lambert jerked in surprise, and nodded in sudden understanding. “That would explain some of the difficulties we’ve experienced lately. What would you recommend?”
“Move your offices off the first floor, and establish a physical and electronic barrier between each floor. I know you’ve suspected some tunnels connect various structures around the city. It’s probably much more than that,” he said. “I think we’ll find there are hundreds of tunnels that connect almost all buildings. That would explain the mysterious disappearances of the populace as well as the invisibility of the resistance.”
