by Bob Blanton
There were two vans for each location; they would be crowded, but three vans were viewed as too likely to draw the attention of unwanted watchers. The three rendezvous locations were widely separated along the Baltic coast.
At the rendezvous location, three sets of Lynxes waited, submerged, just meters from the shore. As the vans approached each location, they signaled ahead. Then, two divers exited the cargo hold dragging a simple version of the floating dock Catie had designed so they could transfer from the Mea Huli to the Lynx without getting wet. They returned to the cargo hold, and the ship was sealed and water expelled from the cargo hold. After two minutes, the timer went off, and the dock inflated itself, raising the Lynx out of the water.
“We have a problem,” Liz called over the comm.
“What?” Catie answered.
“A patrol boat is heading toward rendezvous two,” Liz explained.
“Do you think they know anything?” Catie asked.
“No, it just looks like a minor deviation from their normal patrol,” Liz answered.
“I’ve got it,” Catie said.
“Wait, what are you going to do?” Liz asked. But Catie was already dropping her Fox to the surface. She slowed it down and landed on the choppy sea at one hundred twenty knots. She slowed down to thirty-five knots, just enough to keep the Fox afloat, then she made a slow sweep toward the patrol boat. Her Fox was dark and low on the water, what one would expect of a smuggler’s boat. As she passed by the patrol boat at two hundred meters, their search beam moved and shined in her direction. She kept her direction, trying to emulate a smuggler who had been surprised by the patrol boat and was trying to get out of its range.
“Gotcha,” Catie said as the patrol boat changed its heading and started moving in her direction. She led them along for ten minutes before she slowed the Fox and let it submerge. She would make her way out of Russian waters before she surfaced and took off again.
Meanwhile, the divers each took a zodiac and raced to the beach to meet the vans. The parents and children got out of the vans and ran to the beach, climbing into one of the zodiacs. It took two trips to ferry all of them to the Lynx. Once everyone was aboard, they deflated the docks, and the submerged Lynx moved off toward international waters, leaving the docks behind for the Russians to puzzle over.
By the evening of the Sabbath, everyone was with friends in Delphi City.
◆ ◆ ◆
“Hi, Uncle Blake,” Catie said as she entered Blake’s office. “You wanted to see me.”
“Stand at attention, Pilot,” Blake barked.
Catie snapped to attention, shocked, and wondering what was going on.
“Explain what happened up there in the gulf?” demanded Blake.
“I . . . I led the patrol boat away,” Catie stuttered.
“And where was your lead pilot?” Blake asked.
“She . . . she was . . .”
“That’s right, you didn’t know where she was, did you?”
“No, sir.”
“And did she know what you were doing?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s what gets people killed!” Blake yelled. “Just because you see the solution to a problem doesn’t mean that you rush in to solve it. You discuss it unless there is no time or no other option.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Was there time?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then why did you leave your lead pilot?”
“No excuse, sir,” Catie said.
“That’s right!” Blake yelled. “You’re grounded until further notice.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Catie turned and marched out of Blake’s office, fighting back tears. She refused to cry. “I will not cry,” she thought.
“Hey, Catie,” Liz said. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Catie said through clenched teeth. “I’m okay. And I’m sorry, Liz. I shouldn’t have left you.”
“Oh,” Liz said as she realized why Catie looked like she was about to cry. “What did he say?”
“He grounded me,” Catie said.
“I’m sorry,” Liz said. She wanted to give Catie a hug, but she knew it would make things worse. She just watched as Catie marched off to her office.
Blake called Liz into his office.
“Sir,” Liz said.
Blake recoiled a bit at Liz’s use of sir to greet him.
“Liz, I would like you to go over flight protocol and standing orders with Catie,” he said. “Then I want you to have ADI review all of Catie’s past missions to see when and if she broke protocol or violated standing orders.”
“Cer, Blake,” ADI cut in.
“Yes, ADI,” Blake said.
“Cer Catie has just asked me to do that,” ADI said.
“Which one?” Blake asked.
“Both,” ADI replied.
“Good. Liz, apparently Catie has decided to do it herself. I just ask that you be available to her if she has questions.”
“I always am, sir,” Liz replied.
“Liz, it had to be done,” Blake said.
“I understand,” Liz said. She just kept standing there in front of his desk.
“Dismissed,” Blake said. He sighed as Liz did an about-face and marched out of his office. “The burden of command,” he thought.
◆ ◆ ◆
The next day Catie asked to see Blake.
“Commander Blake, sir,” she announced herself.
“Enter.”
Catie entered Blake’s office and came to attention in front of his desk. “Sir, I wish to apologize. Although that was the first time I’ve violated standing orders or broken protocol, I realize that I was not trying to follow them before.”
“Thank, you,” Blake said.
Chapter 29
Russian Doll
On Wednesday, the protest started; it was just the Jewish community being led by Gabriel Cohen. They were protesting in front of the newly designated government house and had drawn a small crowd. There were several constables on hand to make sure things went smoothly.
Leslie Walters and a camera crew were on hand to film the protest and conduct interviews. It was about an hour into the protest when the first incident happened. Cohen had just started going through a litany of the evils of despotic governments when a man from the crowd began yelling anti-Semitic insults at the Jews. He moved toward one of the Jewish protesters and grabbed him. Then suddenly he seemed to collapse.
“I think he has had too much vodka,” the Jewish protester yelled as he and another man dragged the man to the side of the street.
A second man rushed the Jewish protesters and collapsed into the arms of another Jew. “He is drinking vodka too,” the Jew yelled out, eliciting a laugh from the crowd.
Two men rushed the crowd from different angles. Everyone moved away to give Kal and Mariana Ramsey, Kal’s best sniper, a clear line of fire. They took the two men out with stunner rounds. As soon as the men started to fall, the Jews converged on them and caught them. “These Goyim cannot handle their vodka,” someone yelled out.
◆ ◆ ◆
Once the protest started, the rest of the board gathered in the boardroom, tracking the situation. “Where are the other Russians?” Marc asked.
“They’ve been fishing off the west side, just below the wharf,” Liz replied.
“Fishing!” Blake said. “That doesn’t seem right?”
“Yes, now that the protest has started, it does seem odd,” Liz agreed.
“Anything unusual happen?” Marc asked.
“Not really, there was a minor spat with another group of fishermen who wanted to set up next to them. They were pulling in some big ones, and the others thought they could get in on the action,” Liz said.
“They were catching big fish?” Catie asked. “Can we see?”
“ADI, bring up the surveillance of the Russians,” Liz said.
“Yes, Cer Liz,” ADI said. A video of a gr
oup of six Russians fishing came up on the main display.
“Show us when they’re pulling in a fish,” Catie said.
The video fast-forwarded to where one of the Russians was reeling in a large yellowfin tuna.
“That fish isn’t alive,” Catie yelled.
“Armed response to quadrant four-A,” Liz yelled into her HUD as she raced out of the room. Quadrant four-A was just two blocks from the protest and only three blocks from the boardroom.
“Keep playing the video,” Catie ordered.
As the video moved forward, it was obvious that the women in the group were pulling something out of the fish, then secreting it beneath their flowing skirts. Using their bodies and skirts to shield the view, they were doing something that given the current situation could be interpreted as assembling something.
“They’ll be armed,” Blake called out on the comm. “They were bringing things up inside the fish.”
“What’s going on?” Kal demanded over the comm.
“The Russians have just acquired weapons,” Marc said. “Liz is on it; you keep control over the protest scene. They will be heading your way from quadrant four-A.”
“Mariana, move to position six-A,” Kal commanded. “We may have armed combatants coming in.” Because Mariana was the best sniper on his team, Kal had placed her in the best position to intercept someone coming from the west. Kal hated not being the man on the spot, but he had to trust his people.
“Roger, moving now,” Mariana said. “How many?”
“Six,” Blake said. “They’re moving now. Use your M40.” The M40 was the sniper rifle that Kal had used as a Marine. He’d outfitted his sniper team with a version he’d modified after he had come to Delphi City. It only fired real bullets.
“In position,” Mariana announced as she set up at the far end of the building away from the Russians. This would give her the best angle for a shot while they were farther down the street.
“ADI, seal all the doors along the block,” Marc ordered. “I want whoever or whatever was feeding them the fish.”
“Fox three is on standby,” Catie said.
“Send it,” Marc ordered. “And I want that fishing vessel.”
“If we take out its engines, we can deal with it later,” Blake said.
“Do it!” Marc said.
“We can have another Fox use sonic pressure to push it out of position. That will prevent their underwater friend from finding them,” Catie suggested.
“Fox four, find whoever is underwater around quadrant four-A,” Blake commanded. “Fox eight, take out the engines of that fishing vessel and push it off to the north.”
The two Foxes launched immediately. Fox 4 had a quantum relay they’d installed after the incident with Centag stealing the Fox from the Sakira. Fox 8 couldn’t go underwater, but it was a Mach-six-capable fighter with laser weapons, missiles, and torpedoes. Both jets were on standby at the airport just ten kilometers away. Fox 4 launched first and raced toward the city, dropping down to the water immediately. Once it closed in on the city, it slowed and allowed itself to submerge.
Fox 8 launched and raced toward the fishing vessel. As it approached at Mach two, someone on the boat launched a stinger missile at it. The Fox pilot didn’t even pay attention to the missile, confidently leaving his weapons officer in the back seat to deal with it. Three seconds after it was launched, a laser shot from the Fox’s port laser destroyed the stinger. Seconds later the Fox, traveling five meters above the water, crossed the stern of the fishing vessel and launched a torpedo. The torpedo was programmed to track the sound of the ship’s propeller and destroy it. The Fox climbed away from the ship and accelerated to Mach four. The pilot turned off the shock wave suppressors and dove toward the ship again. By this time the torpedo had destroyed the ship’s rudder and propeller, and the fishing vessel was floating helplessly. The Fox repeatedly dive-bombed the vessel, using its supersonic shock wave to force it off toward the north.
“Who’s meeting me?” Liz called out as she pulled on her combat armor. She’d only had time to grab her vest and helmet before running out of the building.
“I’m right behind you,” Natalia said.
“On your left,” Takurō called out. Both Takurō and Natalia were fully kitted out, having been placed on reserve by Kal.
Two other members of the Delphi City special forces joined them as they reached the corner of the street the Russians were coming down.
“There’s a group of teenagers walking in front of the Russians,” Blake informed everyone. He had the video feeds from the various cameras on that block playing on the main display. “I’m linking their comms on channel six.”
“How far in front of the Russians are they?” Liz asked.
“Twenty yards,” Blake answered.
“I think they’re heading to Giorgio's Pizza,” Catie added.
“Tell them free pizza if they get there in the next minute,” Liz said.
“Hey guys, free pizza at Giorgio’s if you make it in one minute,” Catie announced over channel six.
“Who’s that?” one of the teenagers asked.
“Who cares, free pizza,” said another as he started to run. “Last one there has to pay for soda.”
The group of teenagers broke into a fast run as they barreled toward the end of the block. Giorgio’s was around the corner, halfway down the block.
The Russians had been counting on the teenagers to be a shield as they approached the corner. They looked up and saw that the constable who’d been there when they started out had been replaced by someone with body armor on. They ducked into the entrance of the building they were next to.
“Grenade!” yelled Mariana. She was observing the Russians through her sniper scope and had just caught sight of one of them throwing a grenade as they ducked into the recess.
“Shit, it’s heading right toward the teenagers,” Takurō yelled. Then he pulled off his helmet and raced toward the teenagers and the grenade.
“Get down!” Catie yelled over channel six.
Takurō caught the grenade in his helmet and dove to the ground, trapping the grenade under his helmet. It went off, and the blast and fragments were redirected by his helmet out the small gaps on the sides where his respirator was attached. The right side caught part of his arm, and the left side tore into his left knee. Unfortunately, his left foot was anchored against the curb, so his leg couldn’t be pushed out of the way; instead, the blast severed his leg just above the knee. His armor automatically applied a tourniquet to the leg and injected him with pain killers and coagulants.
“My leg,” Takurō yelled. “Damn it, I just got it fixed!”
The Russians, intent on using the distraction to advance, were starting to come out of the entryway where they were sheltered. As soon as Mariana had a shot, she took it, killing the lead male. Her second shot killed the woman who’d thrown the grenade. She had a second one prepared to throw when Mariana took her head off. The grenade dropped to the ground, and the handle flew off igniting the fuse. One second later, the grenade exploded in the middle of the Russian group, taking them all out.
Liz raced over to Takurō; she knelt down beside him and linked her comm to his. His vital signs came up on her HUD.
“How’s Takurō?” Blake asked.
“His vitals are okay,” Liz said. “He’s lost his left leg.”
“How in the bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep! Why me?” Takurō’s voice came over the comm.
“ADI, are you censoring Takurō?” Catie asked.
“Yes, Cer Catie,” ADI said. “He is in a lot of discomfort and is using very inappropriate language. The pain killers should be taking effect soon.”
Liz called in an ambulance team to the scene. They arrived in a mini helicopter that they used for ambulances and fast-response teams. The medical tech raced over to Liz and Takurō; he did a quick scan of his leg and arm, then started removing his armor. He separated the tourniquet from the armor on Takurō’s left leg, leaving i
t in place. Then he focused on treating his right arm.
“Hey, his leg is the big injury,” Liz shouted.
“It’s got a tourniquet on it, it’s a complete loss,” the EMT said. “Dr. Sharmila is printing him a new one now. But if I can fix this arm right away, he won’t have to have it replaced.” The EMT continued to focus on Takurō’s arm as the other two brought the stretcher over and hooked him up to an IV. The EMT injected Takurō with nanites, which would work with the ones that his armor had injected and seal up the wound and isolate the grenade fragments. “You’re going to be fine,” the EMT told Takurō.
“What kind of lousy job did they do, the damn leg just came right off!” Takurō shouted.
“I don’t know, letting a grenade go off just six inches away from your leg, and pinning it against the curb to boot, probably had something to do with it,” the EMT replied. “Dr. Sharmila is printing one up right now.”
“But I have to wait two weeks,” Takurō said.
“No, she says she’ll attach it right away, you’re going to be a mess for the two weeks anyway,” the EMT said. “She also says she’s going to note that you’re allergic to grenades and should avoid them.”
Takurō started laughing, “That’s what got it the last time. Tell her to add that I’m allergic to bullets too, then send it to my boss. Maybe they’ll give me a nice cushy desk job.”
One of the teenagers came over, “Hey man, thanks for saving us.”
“My job,” Takurō said.
One of the EMTs reached down and picked up Takurō’s severed leg. When the teenager saw it, he turned green and started vomiting.
“Vomit on the street,” Natalia said. “It’s easier to clean up that way.” She came over and patted the teenager on the back. Once he finished vomiting, she led him back to his friends.
“What can we do?” one of the other teenagers asked.
“Nothing for you to do,” Natalia said.
“Send them to the hospital to see Dr. Jefferies. She’s a counselor and can help them deal with the stress and any PTSD,” Samantha told Natalia.
Natalia gave the instructions to the teenagers. “I guess we lost out on the pizza,” one of them said.
