Wings of Steele - Flight of Freedom (Book2)

by Burger, Jeffrey

  “Negative. Closest clearing is nearly four miles away.”

  “Anything on thermal IR?”

  “We've seen a few things, a couple fairly sizable. Nothing humanoid though. A side note, we did see a few farms and ranches about six to ten miles north of here.”

  Raulya pulled up a map grid with the Zulu's current position. “Lieutenant? The Zulu is five miles inland from the coast and five miles north. I think that may have been the back seat, and the one here is the Captain's seat.”

  Brian nodded, “Jack would have gotten her out first... You're probably right; this one is much closer to the crash site.”

  “Red Leader to Revenge, we have bogies in the air...”

  “Move to intercept, Red Leader...” Brian slapped the red button on his console and the klaxons blared through the missile frigate, bathing her corridors in flashing red light. “All hands to battle stations!”

  “Copy that, Revenge. They're low and slow - no ident ping, we'll intercept in a little over sixty seconds.”

  Red Flight passed the nose of the Revenge within sight, about a mile off. Looking like a formation of comets, the Cyclones flashed past in a blink, headed out over open water.

  ■ ■ ■

  The radio call from Boolie Hutthorn was short and full of static, but sounded urgent. “Let's go, Missy,” waved Nevin.

  Lisa had no problem keeping up with his quick, stilted gate as they headed back to their skimmer. “Where are we headed?”

  “We're calling everybody back in, we're headed to the shore.”

  “Did they find something?”

  “They found a helmet and some wreckage... But it's more about the ships they've been seeing...”

  “Ships? What kind of ships? Wait, helmet?”

  “The black kind...” The Skimmer spun around, followed by the others, winding their way quickly out of Glitter Canyon, heading for the two hour run to the coast. Nevin tapped the digital readout on the dash, “We'll need to stop in town or at the farm and fill up, we're running low on juice.”

  Lisa was still tightening her harness, “Nevin, I don't understand...”

  “It runs on FloJuice, darlin', we need to stop and fill her up. The other boys are probably low too...”

  “No, not that,” she waved, shouting over the engine. “The thing you said about the black kind. What did you mean?”

  “Pirates or miners... either way, if they find your brother first, it won't go well for him.”

  She understood the dangers of pirates, but... “Miners? Why would miners be dangerous?”

  “I'm assuming your brother's probably a strapping young lad, just the type of man the miners look to recruit...”

  “Recruit? He's not going to want to join...”

  “Their form of recruitment doesn't offer a choice,” interrupted Nevin.

  ■ ■ ■

  Lieutenant Mike Warren switched to an all-hail channel, keyed his mic and broadcast his UFW identity as Red Flight screamed in on the two intercept targets, “Identify yourself or be shot down,” he ordered.

  A UFW military ping winked on from each of the two unidentified ships. “Friendly, hold fire! Hold fire! We're UFW Army transports!”

  “Copy Army...” Mike pulled the throttle back and lifted the nose on his Cyclone and climbed to a new altitude, followed by the other members of his flight. Crap. I really wanted to shoot something up... “You might want to leave those pings on, Army... Where are you boys headed?”

  “To a mine facility on the Second Continent. We have a report of miners trapped in that facility.”

  Mike turned Red Flight back toward their search grid. “Understood. Good luck, Army.”

  ■ ■ ■

  The Revenge coasted mere feet off the surface of the beach at the water's edge where they encountered a ground skimmer which disappeared into the trees.

  Brian stared at the big screen, searching the tree line for any signs of movement. “Is he still out there?”

  “Aye, Lieutenant,” nodded Raulya. “About fifty feet inside the tree line, at the marker.” An open red diamond appeared on the big screen to mark the location. There was a small flash and a ping on the hull of the ship that was barely noticeable. “And we're still taking small arms fire from him.”

  Brian scratched his head, “What the hell? What's the deal with this guy?”

  Ragnaar turned in his seat, “It is possible he does not know who we are...”

  “So you shoot at anyone you see? That's just not neighborly.”

  “We are unmarked, Lieutenant. We do not know what his previous encounters might have been...”

  “Yeah I get it, Lieutenant,” grumbled Brian. “But I don't want to put anyone out on the beach to get shot at... and I don't want to hurt the guy. He's probably just a local... Any way we can contact him?”

  “They're using local short wave radio,” replied Raulya. “I can see the signals but I have nothing I can broadcast with down on that frequency. It's very low tech... probably very old.”

  “Probably like my uncle's HAM radio, back home,” noted Brian. “Hmm... anybody got two cans and a string...?

  “A what?”

  “Never mind,” he sighed.

  “Zulu One to Revenge...”

  Brian keyed hi mic, “Talk to me, Zulu One...”

  “You've got ground units headed your way.”

  “You want to be more specific Mr. Fidos?”

  “I count twelve; private hover-craft type vehicles headed your way, with two or three occupants each. Small arms only, but they seem to be in a hurry. They're scooting along at a pretty good clip, should get to you in a couple minutes.”

  “Ahh, terrific,” grumbled Brian, “Our little sniper out there called his friends. All I want to do is ask him a few questions and move on, dammit...”

  ■ ■ ■

  “Stop shootin' at it, Boolie! Stop shootin' at it...! Hutthorn, can you hear me?!” Nevin dropped the mic because he needed both hands on the controls as they raced towards the beach. “Dammit, Missy, he can't hear us.”

  “What's he shooting at?” shouted Lisa.

  “Somethin' big and black caught him out in the open. He should just be runnin', those patrols can't catch us in the trees.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  Nevin glanced over his shoulder, checking on the column of skimmers trailing behind them. “I'll tell ya when we get there... hold on!” The skimmer catapulted off the dunes bordering the beach and became airborne, Lisa feeling light in her seat, thankful for the safety harness.

  The feeling was akin to the first drop of a roller coaster. “Whooaaa...!” She grabbed for the strut of the roll bar and her carbine with her free hand, as it levitated off the floor. “Fuck! Slow down, you crazy old man!”

  Nevin grinned, “Yeehaa! Gets the heart pumpin', don't it?” The skimmer dropped smoothly, flatly to the sand, bouncing like it landed on jello, shooting out over the water as the old man cranked the controls to the left, obviously in his element, the vehicle swinging south in an arc.

  “Holy shit.” Lisa caught two skimmers abreast of each other shoot off the dunes behind them, watching them complete the same maneuver she had just experienced. In any other circumstance it probably would have been fun. As it was, she was too busy trying not to be scared to death. A brutish looking gray ship passed over their heads with little more than a rumble, moving in the same direction at several times their own speed. In a few seconds it angled left, disappearing over the treetops paralleling the beach.

  “Well, they know we're comin'.”

  Lisa's heart was pounding and she was struggling to push back the edge of panic that was creeping up in her stomach. “Nevie, my carbine won't even scratch something like that...” The adrenalin flooding her body was making her buzz like a caffeine overdose and she was fighting her fight or flight reflexes, trying to stay in her own skin. The beach and parallel tree line arced gently and she was fixated on the beach ahead as it gradually revealed itse
lf. “Holy fuck! Holy fuck..!” she yelped, her body going rigid. Her foot reached for the non-existent brake pedal at the same time Nevin yanked the throttle back past the zero mark to apply the braking blowers.

  The other skimmers quickly slid up next to them, coming to a stop in a group, everyone staring at the long black ship that was hovering inches off the sand, less than a mile ahead. “Where's Hutthorn, Nevie?”

  Nevin was studying the beach, tree line and ship with his scanners, adjusting the magnification. “I don't see him... All I see is some wreckage lying on the beach.”

  A spike of clarity worked its way through the panic Lisa was fighting against. “My ear thingie...” she said, frantically patting herself down, “where's my ear thingie?” She knew it had to be on her somewhere; she just had to have it. She dug through her pockets and pouches.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  VELORIA, SECOND CONTINENT : THE NOSE KNOWS

  “Has our little friend stopped taking pot shots at us?”

  “Aye, sir. Maybe he's run out of charges?”

  “We can hope...”

  Raulya turned in her seat, “Invader from the Freedom on final approach...”

  “What is this, a convention?” Brian nodded, “Alright, have it set down on the beach. Where are our little friends?”

  “A mile north on the beach, just sitting there...” replied Ragnaar.

  “Comm signal coming in... it's garbled...” The signal broke and fractured as it came in stuttered bits and pieces.

  “Can you clean it up?”

  “It's not us, it's them. Nothing I can do with it.” Raulya broadcast a reply, informing the contact their broadcast was not received.

  “StOopid mud...” the signal cracked, “can yOou hear me now?”

  “Better. Who are you?” asked Brian.

  “WhOo are you?”

  Brian snorted a chuckle, “We asked you first...”

  “LisAa Steele...”

  ■ ■ ■

  “It's my people!” shouted Lisa, “Let's go!”

  “Are you sure?” called one of the ranchers. “We've seen unmarked ships before...”

  “I'm positive! The Commander is my brother's friend; it's the ship they found hidden at the Air and Space Port.”

  Nevin was studying the Invader that had just landed on the beach alongside the black frigate. “Something coming down the boarding ramp, Missy... looks like an animal...”

  “Lemme see, lemme see...” Overexcited, Lisa snagged the scanners out of his hand, adjusting the dials to magnify and focus. “Oh my God, it's Fritz! We gotta go!” She dropped into her seat waving them ahead. “C'mon! Let's go, let's go!”

  “What's a Fritz?” asked Nevin, sliding down into his seat, none too quickly.

  “Jack's dog... he can help us find Jack.”

  “A pet?” He slid the throttle forward.

  “He's way more than a pet...”

  ■ ■ ■

  Fritz paced the beach between the Invader and the hovering frigate, his nose to the damp sand, oblivious of the Marines standing around, protecting him. He moved in a natural pattern, searching for a familiar scent, pausing when the breeze carried it past his nose from a stand of boulders at the water's edge, perhaps twenty-five yards from him. His head went up and his nose moved back and forth, measuring, testing the quality of the sample. His concentration broke with the commotion of the Marines calling a halt behind him, and the unfamiliar sound of a group of approaching vehicles distracted him. What he did recognize was the sound of the voice shouting his name. “Lisa!' he barked, spinning around and sprinting through the group of Marines.

  Jumping up on the side of the skimmer, it was hard to tell who was more excited as they hugged... Lisa crying, clutching his collar, or the dog whining, hopping up and down on his hind legs, his tail wagging madly.

  Boolie Hutthorn's skimmer appeared and approached from the tree line, joining the others gathered at the water's edge near the landed Invader. He was a stocky man with a round face and a flat, wide-brimmed hat that nobody could figure out how he kept on while driving a skimmer. It was still a mystery, his little secret, a running joke that he enjoyed prolonging. “Good thing you fellas showed up, I was about to shoot that thing down,” he joked, indicating the Revenge.

  “It's a good thing they didn't shoot back at you, you half-wit,” called Nevin, “there wouldn't be enough left of you to put in a pouch... your Missus woulda had my scalp.” The ranchers and farmers all laughed.

  “Ma'am, I take it you'd be the missing, Lisa Steele?” asked the Marine Corporal, standing off the fender of Nevin's skimmer, his carbine at rest across his body.

  “That'd be me,” she smiled, hopping down.

  She took his hand and they shook. “Corporal Dunnom, ma'am.”

  “Lisa,” she smiled politely, “call me Lisa. Have you found Jack?”

  “No ma'am... er, Lisa. The Captain's still missing. Queen Alité thought Fritz would be able to help locate him,” he added nodding toward the Shepherd.

  “He was here,” said Fritz slowly.

  “Then this must be his!' shouted Hutthorn, standing up in his skimmer, holding up a white helmet. “We found it sitting on that boulder over there, pretty-as-you-please. Like someone had set it there.”

  Fritz turned and sprinted toward the stand of boulders, sloshing through the water, Lisa running all-out, attempting to keep up, her slung carbine slapping against her back with each step, Corporal Dunnom close on her heels. The Shepherd jumped up, moving from surface to surface inspecting the tops and flats with his nose. “He was here... he not gone long.” He launched himself off the top down to the sand and began making circles, his head down.

  “How long?”

  “Hours...”

  “Which way Fritz? Which way?” urged Lisa. The dog paused and pawed at the surface, pulling something loose that had been partially buried by sand carried by the low waves rolling up onto the beach. Lisa bent over and picked it up. “His watch... it's smashed.” She studied it for a moment, catching movement in the water out of the corner of her eye, looking like someone swimming, pointing south...

  “He went this way!” Fritz turned and began trotting south along the beach, “C'mon!”

  She glanced up at his call, then back, but nothing was there. A sudden chill raced up her back as she studied the mostly featureless water, gentle little waves lapping at the sand. How could that be? She pushed it out of her head and ran after Fritz.

  “C'mon!” he barked, “This way...”

  ■ ■ ■

  Standing on the beach amid the cluster of skimmers, Nevin tossed Boolie a charge pack for his rifle, “You were out, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Looks like her brother went south; how far is the fisherman's place from here?”

  “You mean the crazy old man who talks about sea serpents all the time?”

  “Yeah, him.”

  “About ten miles, maybe less. Haven't been out there for awhile. Think he still lives there?”

  Nevin leaned back against the fender of his skimmer, “I don't know. Why don't you take a couple of the fellas and go pay him a visit? It might be better if we did it, than if he see's all these folks show up on his doorstep. I'll stay with the girl, the rest of you guys can go home I suppose. Other than dealing with the old man, I think we've done about as much as we can.”

  “You want me to stop by your place on my way home and let Helen know you should be home for supper?”

  Nevin glanced at his neighbor, “If you don't mind. And she just harvested some Pattahoolia fruit if you need to pick some up.”

  The man climbed into his skimmer, “I'll do that, Nevie. See you later.”

  The group of ranchers broke ranks, heading out in different directions, most heading back the way they came. Hutthorn and a neighbor went south in their skimmers, passing Lisa and the Shepherd, while Nevin stayed close behind the pair, making their way steadily along the beach.

  The long
black frigate rose up off the surface, holding station about a thousand feet up a half a mile off the coast, the Invader staying put. Such was the strange parade traveling south along the beach; dog, girl, Marine Corporal, skimmer and a squad of heavily armed Marines trailing behind.

  ■ ■ ■

  “What's the news on your search for Mr. Steele, Lieutenant?”

  Brian shifted forward in his seat, leaning towards the screen in the ready room of the Revenge, happy to have something to report. “We're getting close, Admiral. We've recovered Ms. Steele; she had the assistance from a group of very helpful locals. She is with the dog now; they are tracking the Captain's trail...”

  “Did you say the dog is tracking...?”

  “Yes, sir,” interrupted Brian.

  The Admiral's brow furrowed. “You want to explain that to me, Lieutenant?”

  “Uh, yes, sir. Dogs have a very heightened sense of smell. He is tracking the Captain's scent on the ground...”

  “You can't be serious...”

  “Yes Admiral. And Fritz's capabilities are even more advanced because of his CABL hardware...”

  “So, a super nose?”

  Brian couldn't help but smirk, “That's one way of looking at it, Admiral.”

  “And why are we having to resort to this tactic when you're in a ship sporting the gold standard of sensor hardware?”

  “Well,” began Brian, “the forest canopy is very dense. It appears the trees in this area have a very strange property, their foliage absorbs energy. So, our sensors aren't penetrating to the ground unless there's an opening in the trees. We were able to detect where Ms. Steele came down because her seat tore a hole in the branches and foliage.”

  “And that allowed you to find her...”

  “No, sir,” replied Brian apprehensively. “With the assistance of the locals, she found us...”

  The Admiral inhaled deeply to calm his aggravation. “You have units on the ground, correct?”