Moretti stopped and saluted the other man, who returned it, smiling at Moretti like a proud father.
“Come, Moretti, let us talk somewhere else so we don’t bother these hard working people,” the man said, his voice raised so that the others in the large room could hear him.
Mark saw smiles appear and backs straightened as they worked harder.
Between the tiered area and the part with the hologram to the right there was a corridor guarded by enforcers.
“Wait here, you two,” Moretti said to Mark and Haas as he walked past the other enforcers, the man who could only be Harper leading the way.
“For Harmony’s sake,” Haas said, both of them saluting Harmony-style.
Mark’s implants had been recording the entire time, and as he walked back into the room looking around at the computers, Haas joined him.
“Didn’t think I’d be doing this when I joined up,” Mark said.
“Makes two of us. This place is well organized,” Haas said, both of them careful not to talk about the EMF or trooper lifestyle.
“You see those newer rifles?” Haas asked.
“Look more like proper heavy machine guns to me,” Mark said.
“Yeah,” Haas said, his voice tight. Mark had only seen one or two on their walk down, but they could possibly breach a trooper’s armor if troopers charged them.
“That’s not the only trick Harper has for those trooper fucks,” an enforcer that had overheard them speaking said, interjecting himself into the conversation.
“Really? Those things look impressive as hell,” Haas said.
Mark stopped himself from twitching his triceps.,Killing the guy here would only complicate things.
“Yeah, but look.” The man pulled up his long-sleeved shirt showing a heavy plate of armor underneath.
“Damn, where the hell did you get that from?” Haas said, tapping the plate. It sounded heavy and the straps holding it to the man weren’t light duty.
“Special order, you can probably get them too being Mr. Moretti’s enforcers,” the man said proudly, pulling his shirt down.
“Have to look into that,” Haas said, looking at Mark.
“Yeah, would be pretty sweet to have armor, though how do you know those EMF guns won’t cut through them?” Mark asked.
“We’ve been shooting these things for years. Just took time to mass produce. Guess you don’t get much central talk from where you are?” the guy said.
“Nah, Tower Eights’ boring as fuck man - thing’s practically deserted after it got converted into a factory,” Mark shrugged, he’d made sure to memorize Tower Eight. If anyone had any interest in his background he had it covered.
“Yeah, I hear that, got a cousin that moved out, he’s an educator,” the man said, actually looking proud of the fact.
“Damn, he must know how to cut up a meat ration,” Mark said, with a forced grin.
“You would not believe it,” the man laughed.
Haas and Mark joined in.
The man leaned in, looking around to make sure no one was watching or listening.
“I heard that they’re building powered armor,” he said.
“Powered armor, how’s that possible?” Haas said, looking around as well.
“Harmony connects us all, we are but one small part of Harmony. Here we might learn the lessons to grow Harmony stronger,” the man said.
“For the sake of Harmony,” Haas said, nodding, Mark couldn’t bring himself to say those words.
If these mother fuckers have powered armor, then this is a whole new ball game, Mark thought.
Powered armor had only been used on Earth in the unification wars back when nations could actually get weapons smuggled in.
It carried more armor, weapons, and ammunition than any normal soldier could. They were hellish weapons that could turn anyone into a destructive force.
Since Earth had been unified, power armor was seen as a luxury, its expense outweighing its use in peaceful times. With the settling of the colonies, the companies did not want weapons in the hands of colonists, so when colonists rebelled they had to make their own. It was rare for them to get past making rifles and some meager kind of armor.
The EMF was trained to take down a rabble with pop guns and no armor.
Already the man had showed that they were past crappy rifles and insubstantial armor. That was going to make things difficult. If what the man said was true, then this battle was going from difficult to terrible.
“Sign me up, if there’s ever trials. I’d love to get my hands on a real set of powered armor,” Mark said.
“Sure thing, man,” the big guy said, nodding to him.
“Never got your name?” he said, holding his hand out.
“Mark,” Mark said, taking the offered hand.
“Jonas,” Haas said, using his first name, and shaking the man’s hand.
“I’m Tony, happy to meet you two. If any openings come round I’ll let you know,” Tony said.
“What do you do around Central for fun?” Mark asked.
“Not much to do, other than train, enforce, drink, and pick up girls, the Chosen love enforcers. Just walk through the barracks and you’ll have your pick,” Tony grinned.
Mark and Haas grinned too.
“Heard there were some gangs around,” Haas asked.
“Yeah,” Tony said, his grin souring. “People that never went through selection or don’t agree with Harmony. Fucking dissenters all over the place. Our job is to sniff them out. Most have tunnels that I don’t even know about. Smuggle goods all over the place, have a black-market of stuff; best to take a cut and let that slide. People don’t like it when they don’t have some options for food. Though some in that market are dissenters mark my words,” Tony said, not sounding like he knew what dissenters meant, but he’d heard it enough times to use it.
“We’ll keep an eye out,” Haas said, looking at Mark who gave him a dark look and a scowl, mimicking Tony’s anger.
Mark saw Moretti and Harper making their way back down the hallway.
“Catch you around sometime,” Tony said.
“Have to grab a beer man, I wanna hear more about that powered armor. Sounds fucking awesome,” Mark said slapping the man on the back.
“I’ll take you up on that, Mark,” Tony grinned, slapping Mark on the back in a show of budding bromance.
“Sometimes it’s hard to get good help,” Mark heard Moretti mutter to Harper.
“These boys have shown their worth or else they wouldn’t be wearing those dusters,” Harper said, his voice not reproving but more like a father stating facts.
Moretti made a noise that bordered on disagreement.
“Always a pessimist, Moretti, though it is fortunately a useful trait that makes you of great use to me. If these were not times of war, then I would do all in my power to get you out of that slump. Now, I just hope that your pessimistic outlook aids our Chosen,” Harper said, tapping Moretti’s shoulder.
“I hope that my service, however pessimistic is useful,” Moretti said, bowing.
Harper laughed, it was a rich noise for one that had sent seventy-thousand to their deaths already. Mark had no idea how many had died on Shipping Station, or would die on it and Masoul.
“You have, however, become much more exuberant in your displays,” Harper said, tapping Moretti’s back.
“For the sake of Harmony,” Moretti said, saluting.
Harper returned it, watching him leave, with Mark and Haas moving around Moretti as they made their exit.
Mark caught Tony’s eye, and gave him a nod.
If they do have powered armor, this just got way more complicated.
Chapter 32
Landing City
Masoul Actual, Masoul System
5/3241
Shipping Station was still being fought over, and it was a bad fight Moretti told them. The news outlets were pro-Harmony so they were only telling of great victories and mounting EMF casualties
.
If they were to be believed, then the carriers held millions rather than just over a hundred thousand.
Mark let his arms fall closer to his body, feeling the blades under his arms. Weapons were a comforting touch to him.
There was no contact outside of Masoul so Mark and the rest of the platoon worked their asses off to gather as much information as possible. He’d finally got a lead from the black market on some tunnels that weren’t on any official records.
He’d befriended a gang of kids and teenagers, who didn’t want to be part of Harmony, but they knew something about fighting and could move goods around with ease. There were plenty of kids wandering around the tunnels, most of them were in classes that taught them the best way to kill a trooper in armor with everything from their hands and blades to assault rifles and the heavy machine guns that Mark and Haas had seen on their first day walking to the command center.
For five meal bars they’d updated his map. He’d also got their ears listening out for new machine gun placements on the surface and rumors about armor.
They were making their pay and then some.
Though he wasn’t about to let on that he had an almost inexhaustible supply of food and that he would gladly pay three times as much for the information they gave him. That kind of act would make them suspicious and more eager to tell others about the awesome deal they’d made.
Better to low-ball and keep them thinking he was just an enforcer trying to make his way up in the world.
Thankfully, since he’d been buying food and other goods from the black market, as well as taking his cut, he was seen as trustworthy. No one was going to rat on the thing that would also send them to the educators.
“Hey Lou,” Mark said, walking into the gang’s hideout. It was in a water recycling duct; they’d opened a panel and cut through the rock, making their own living area. It was the one place they hadn’t put any information on. From the way it looked there were a fair number of ways to enter the area and more than a few ways to escape.
“Mark,” Lou said, nodding to him and moving from behind the panel as it slid out of the way. Mark walked in, the panel closing behind him.
The tunnels and living area were rough with shoddy reinforcing posts and crossbeams, but it worked.
As Mark wandered through, people moved away, hiding their faces in the path of his black duster.
It didn’t take him long to reach Jolie, who was sitting in a large cavern. Tents and other hastily made structures made people’s sleeping quarters and homes.
“Hey Mark,” Jolie said, lighting up as he got closer.
She was about fifteen, perky, and had a crush on Mark like something else.
“Hey Jolie,” Mark said, sitting opposite her.
“Got these new pants down at market today, what do you think?” She said, turning and showing them off.
“They’re nice,” he smiled, knowing the action was anything but innocent.
Jolie pouted slightly before grabbing a data unit.
“Here’s the basic guide to the towers, including the normal towers. You got the food?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Mark said, pulling a pack out of his duster.
“You guys hide a lot of things in those dusters,” she said, taking her time to look him over and then glanced up to his eyes.
Mark shook the pack to move her eyes away from him.
She was a pretty girl, but he wasn’t going to hit below eighteen. He tossed her a pack, and she caught it. Ignoring her looks, he tossed her three more.
She threw him the data cube in return.
Jolie snapped her fingers and Daz appeared, grabbing the bars and taking them away, probably to Jolie’s stash.
“I’ve got more if you’ve heard anything about the armor and weapons,” Mark said.
“Well, I might have something on the anti-Harmony groups,” Jolie said, her face becoming serious as she tested the waters.
“Yeah?” Mark said, Jolie getting all of his attention as he wirelessly connected to the data cube, uploading it to his internal memory and sending it to the rest of the platoon.
She looked like she was deciding something as she sized him up.
“Thing is you’d have to leave your guns here and agree to be tied up,” she said.
Mark sighed, rubbing the beard that had grown since he’d stepped on the shuttle four months ago.
It was his first beard. He’d shaved when on Earth and the EMF had reinforced that practice, it was damn uncomfortable having stubble rub on the cheek pads, or get pulled out if you didn’t get it all in.
“Alright, I’ll do it, but no funny business,” Mark said.
“Fine, take all your weapons off and that duster,” Jolie snapped her fingers twice, and four people came out from tents, their faces covered, restraints in one person’s hands a blindfold in another’s.
“Don’t trust me to come peacefully?” Mark said with his deep voice and a grin.
“You’re the size of a small car and you have enough scars visible on just your neck and hands to say you’ve survived some shit. What would you do if you were me?” Jolie asked.
Mark laughed and pulled off the duster, blades, and weapons that were sown into the coat.
He put it down; a rifle and shotgun hung from him on slings.
The twin pistol belts joined the guns and duster.
Then there were blades in the small of his back and his boots. There was a small pile of weapons to his side, and wide eyes looking between him and the pile.
“I know every single weapon. One of them goes missing and I’ll hold you responsible Jolie,” Mark said, looking into her eyes.
“Daz! Get out here and put this in my vault,” she said. Daz was there in a few moments, gathering the weapons up in the duster and hurrying off.
The restraints went on as Jolie stood, and she ran her hands over him, checking for weapons. Mark didn’t miss her smile as she got close to some sensitive areas.
“At least buy me dinner first,” he growled, getting a few laughs from the foursome.
Jolie smiled and stopped her searching.
“Blindfold him and let’s get this show on the road,” she said.
“Fucking tall bastard,” someone muttered behind him. He bent a knee to make it easier for them. The colonists didn’t get much in the way of good food and with lower gravity the CEO’s and Harmony decided they needed less food, leading to them being short and wiry.
Mark was pushed and prodded, as they blinded and bound him.
Mark sent a message to Tyler, Jerome and Haas, with a recording of the situation, except for putting down his weapons. Haas would blow a gasket if he saw that.
They passed lots of people and travelled in so many odd directions that Mark knew it was being done to throw off his sense of direction.
He was stopped and something waved over his body. His implants read faults and he shut them down.
It seemed he’d passed as he moved on.
Finally, he was stopped and his blindfold removed. In front of him sitting at a simple table were three women and two men, all of whom wore items to obscure who they were, leaving only their eyes visible.
Jolie and the rest of the gang left, and a door closed behind Mark.
There were three guards toting weaponry, ready and waiting to put Mark down if he did anything.
“Fucking talkative lot aren’t you?” Mark said, looking at them all after a few quiet minutes.
“Why don’t we just torture him like they torture ours with their educators? Should get at the information,” one of the men at the table said.
The woman at the center rose, a hand silencing him.
“We are not Harmony, we are better than them and we will act accordingly,” she said.
“Can we get past the threats? Yes, you could shoot me, or kill me in some manner and make it look like a mistake. You want information and I want some cooperation,” Mark said.
“Fucking enforcers,” one of the gu
ards spat.
“Real smart, spitting inside a mask, bet that feels awesome,” Mark said shaking his head.
The guard didn’t say anything, but the others moved awkwardly.
“You Madam Song?” Mark asked gesturing to the head-woman. The table moved in shock and the guard’s guns rose a few inches.
“Ahhh, good. That agent’s damn fucking good.” Mark admitted, he’d owe Moretti a few cigars if this worked. “The hand, says hello,” Mark said tilting his head.
There was a hiss of breath being released.
“How do you know the hand?” Song asked, still masked.
“We’re working together,” Mark shrugged. Though you wouldn’t believe who he is even if I told you, Mark thought. Moretti might be a spy, but he was good at his work.
“How can you, an enforcer, be working with the hand? He has guided us since the beginning, working to use us to fight Harmony, supplied us with the means to be prepared for the eventual trooper arrival,” she said.
Mark grabbed at his shirt, as the weapons in front of him started rising.
He ripped the shirt, showing his bare shoulder. Puckered scars couldn’t hide the tattoo he’d received from basic and the M&T over V tattoo that had been redone to have M, J, T&A over V.
The guns wavered as the five people started muttering.
“I think it’s about time we got the resistance organized. It won’t be long before my fellow troopers are here,” Mark fired up his implants and applied a cracker to the restraints. He tossed the restraints to the bodyguard who’d spat in his own mask and turned to face them.
“I’m an enforcer, just of a different type,” he smiled as saucer-sized eyes looked up at him in shock.
Chapter 33
Shipping Station
Shipping Station, Masoul System
5/3241
Nerva looked over the latest download from the communications satellite. The platoon had made contact with the underground and were trying to get as much training into them as possible. Harmony had armor plates on an industrial scale. They might not get all four million wearing the plates, but they’d get their enforcers and core Chosen, to wear them.
Masoul (Harmony War Series Book 2) Page 25
