Fitz maneuvered away. The stricken aircraft hit the ground flipping end over end several times, with bodies flying out as it did so.
“Rule Britannia, Britannia rules the waves,” Farouk sang out.
“Bloody limey,” called Argie.
Her second one began to smoke and roll. Several others maneuvered to get out of the way and managed to run into each other.
“That’s four for Canada, so there.”
Denver imagined he could see her stick her tongue out. Some of the aircraft shot ahead and went to ground.
“Boss, do you see it?” called Smith.
“I see it; they’re setting up for us.” Fitz looked around. There was a line of low hills off to his right.
“Smith, I’m hanging a right. Head for those hills.”
“Right behind you, boss.”
“Hang on Argie,” he called out as Fitz swung hard right and he followed. They were putting a ton of dust in the air, which luckily made visibility for the closest aircraft something of a problem as they were trying to maneuver close enough for their soldiers to get off shots at the speeding vehicles.
The closest one shot past and only began to turn slowly. There were just too many of them. Some of the others, which were farther back, began to turn in their new direction.
Argie was firing at the biggest clump of them, slowly moving back and forth. One after another began to smoke. In the back of her mind, a part that did not realize, or perhaps care that they were about to die, said, this is fun.
“Smith they are going to ground out ahead of us again.”
“Sir what would they do if we stopped and did a one- eighty?”
“Probably fly into one another trying to get turned around. Okay, Smith, on the count of three we hit the brakes, ready?”
“Yes sir.”
“One, two, three.” Fitz hit the brakes and slid around to his left. Denver saw what he was doing, and as he braked slid around to his right.
“Hey what are you doing?” called Argie.
He had forgotten to tell her. “Sorry.” Next time we’ll need to be able to bring the gunners in on the conversation.
He and Fitz quickly had the little dune buggies wheeled around and headed in the direction they had just come.
Argie and Farouk were blasting away as the aircraft flashed by. “How many you got?” she called.
“Lost count,” Farouk answered.
“Me too, left several more smoking as well. Uh oh, they’re coming around,” she called out.
“Smith, it looks like they are setting down all around us, trying to confuse things so that we will drive right into one of them. Do you see?”
“Sorry, all I can see is dust,” Denver called back.
“Denver, they’re coming from your side,” called Argie.
At that moment, Fitz cut left into the oncoming aircraft. Farouk fired into the midst of the aircraft, then ran out of ammunition.
“Commander, I’m out of ammo. Can you stop for just a second?” asked Farouk.
“What?”
“I can’t get to the ammunition locker if I’m being knocked about.”
“Okay, but make it quick. Smith, my gunner is out of ammo. I’m going to stop long enough for him to reload.”
“Right I’ll cover you. Argie, Farouk is out of bullets. They are going to stop and reload. We’ll have to cover them.”
“Got you.”
Smith slowed and came to a halt near Fitz and Farouk. An enemy aircraft slid up and set down.
“Turn me around!” she called.
Smith did so, and she cut them to pieces as they exited the aircraft. She raked the cockpit for good measure. Then Farouk opened up on one landing just ahead of them.
“Hold on a sec,” she said.”
“Hold on for what?” Denver asked.
“I’m feeding out another box of ammo. There,” she said. “Now let’s get out of here.”
“Boss, we’re reloaded too. Which way?”
“Back toward the hills. I’ve lost track of where they’ve been landing. I can only assume …”
At that instant, a shock wave hit them, as Lieutenant Hapsburg’s spacecraft shot overhead, low and fast. The dune buggies shook, and the Reptilian aircraft scattered.
“Commander, come to a heading of 290; we can pick you up in two kilometers.”
“Understood,” responded Fitz as he wheeled around. “Smith, you get the message?”
“Yes sir, I’m on your heels.”
Several other aircraft had set down and were now slowly rising. They made irresistible targets. I got to get me one of these, Argie thought. She was having a field day, but Farouk was no lout. It was almost too easy; just pick a spot and fire.
Fitz hit the accelerator and put a ton of dust in the air. He could soon see the spacecraft. It was on the ground and vulnerable with its bay door open and its ramp down.
Already there were enemy aircraft in pursuit. Others, which had sat down, were lifting off again and heading in their direction. Fitz stomped the accelerator and held it to the floor. The buggy just would not go any faster!
Argie was firing back behind them, and the aircraft were starting to hold off as if unsure of what to do. Then strangely, several began to sit down and disgorge troops. The aircraft did not stay on the ground but flew directly for the navy spacecraft.
Aircraft were sitting down just over hills and out of range of Farouk’s gun, some to the sides, some farther out than the spacecraft they screamed headlong toward. Argie was firing with wild abandon, but only at the aircraft headed directly for the spacecraft.
A couple shot past her. “Farouk, they are going to ram the spaceship.”
Farouk looked over his right shoulder and saw the oncoming aircraft. As soon as they were in line for a shot, he thumbed the trigger. The first began to smoke. The second flashed past right at the spacecraft.
Without warning, a missile flashed out from the grounded spacecraft and struck the aircraft amidships blowing it to pieces. That thing’s armed, thought Farouk.
Then, there was small arms fire from the ridges. Smith could see specks coming across the hills, ground troops. If any of them damaged the spacecraft, it was game over.
The spacecraft was closer now, almost there. Fitz hit the brakes at the last possible moment and skidded up the ramp, bouncing into the wall on the inside of the cargo bay. Smith slowed a bit more but entered with dispatch. He managed to avoid hitting the first dune buggy, just.
“They’re both in,” called the Crew Chief as he raised the ramp and closed the cargo door.
“Understand all personnel are aboard,” said Hapsburg.
“Affirmative, all personnel aboard. You’re clear to launch,” called Chief.
The spacecraft lifted off and swung low over the hills avoiding the aircraft attempting to block its path. Once clear, the Skipper nosed the spacecraft skyward and accelerated at a blinding rate.
The dune buggies and their occupants were slammed around first one way, then the other before the drive was able to catch up with the acceleration. They were out.
Chapter 11 - Dinner with the Admiral
“Extraordinary Commander, what a harrowing escape!” beamed Admiral La Force.
He looked up from the report. “Oh, do sit down Commander.”
Fitz complied.
The Admiral got up from his desk and went to sit in one of the overstuffed chairs across from Lieutenant Commander Fitzpatrick. They were meeting in the Admiral’s home. He no longer felt secure meeting on base, even in his office.
Twice in the last few days, it had been bugged. He did not bother to report it, but he would have to be very careful whom he trusted. He was personally checking the records of everyone who was supposed to have access to his office.
The recon team had
returned earlier in the day. The troops and all their equipment had been decontaminated. Even though it was a weekend, the Admiral wanted to waste no time. He would put the Lieutenant Commander in for a promotion first thing next week, something he considered long overdue. At the moment, they were waiting for the rest of the team to show up. La Force had asked Fitz to come a bit earlier for a private talk.
“Your man Smith has surprised us again. We may have to study these little vehicles for future use,” La Force continued.
“If you don’t mind my saying, these studies drag on for months or years and produce little,” responded Fitz.
“Yes they do, that’s why Smith’s approach is so refreshing, and I might add, functional. It seems he sees a situation and comes up with a solution from … well, I don’t know where but he does. When can I see one of these vehicles?”
Fitz noticed a movement outside the window. “Right now sir. I think the rest of the team has arrived.”
They got to their feet and went out on the veranda. There they saw Argie and Farouk climbing out of the back of the dune buggy. Denver was freeing himself from the front seat.
“I’m driving back,” said Argie.
“I don’t know about that,” said Farouk. “I’ll match you for it.”
The Admiral waded into the middle of the group with Fitz on his heels. They came to attention and saluted even though they were in civilian clothes.
The Admiral returned the salute, then turned to the little vehicle. “So, this is it,” he began. “Extraordinary, this is what allowed you to escape?”
“Yes sir,” responded Smith. They stepped aside so the Admiral could get a good look.
“I would think you would want some armor,” he said.
Fitz replied, “Yes sir, but that would only slow it down. Its speed and maneuverability are its strengths.”
“Yes, so it would seem,” he responded glancing up at Fitz. “Now how do you work it?”
“You enter like this sir,” said Fitz. He quickly showed the Admiral the vehicle’s operation.
At that moment, the Admiral’s wife came out. “You’re not really going to drive that thing, are you?” she asked.
“You bet I am; hop in back.”
She did, and Argie helped her with the harnesses and the helmet. “You see this switch? In this position, you have a hot mike and you two can talk,” instructed Argie.
“Okay my dear, I’ve got it. Can you hear me, Jon?”
“Yes dear, loud and clear.”
“Well, take it easy,” she warned.
The Admiral accelerated slowly but soon picked up speed.
“Perhaps we should pour ourselves drinks,” recommended Fitz.
Smith laughed, “I may have trouble getting it away from him and back to its owner.”
“They act like a couple of newlyweds,” Argie grinned, casting a curious glance at Denver. He did not catch it, but Farouk and Fitz exchanged glances.
Fitz motioned Farouk toward the open door leaving Denver and Argie watching the diminishing form of the little dune buggy. As they stepped up on the deck, Fitz asked, “Tell me Farouk, about this Mademoiselle Juliette.”
“Her family name is Peron, and I get the feeling she is someone of some importance.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Fitz.
“When the police looked at her ID, they seemed surprised.”
“What did it look like?”
“I didn’t get a good look at it, but I did see that it had red edges,” said Farouk.
“Red?”
“Yes sir. Does that mean anything?”
“Yes. Is there anything else you can tell me?”
“She said her father did not approve of her working. The police did not seem to feel he would approve of the company she kept.”
“Meaning you?” asked Fitz.
“That’s how I took it. There is one other thing.”
“Yes.”
“She had met the Prime Minister. She took his death rather personal.”
“Peron you say?”
“Yes, Juliette Peron, that’s it.”
Fitz removed his com and began to look for something. Farouk finished preparing the drinks just as Argie and Denver came in.
“I don’t know if they’re going to bring it back anytime soon,” laughed Argie.
“Well, let them have a good time,” said Denver, who seemed relaxed for the first time since the assassination. He and Argie accepted the drinks from Farouk.
“Here it is,” began Fitz, “she is the daughter of an important Parliamentarian. That explains her father’s displeasure at her working.”
“I thought you folks frowned on parasites,” interjected Denver.
“We do,” responded Fitz, his voice gravelly.
Smith thought for a moment before speaking. “Only there are some people to whom the rules do not apply?” he questioned.
“Yes,” answering and exhaling brusquely.
“We have trouble with that back on Earth,” Denver said.
“Nobody really talks about it, but we seem to have developed our own aristocracy.”
“I take it, that was not supposed to happen,” said Argie.
“No, it wasn’t, but it was probably unavoidable, considering where the founders of the society were from. You see, if everybody is an aristocrat, then nobody is an aristocrat. They found more followers that way,” answered Fitz.
“So now Juliette is flaunting her father’s wishes by working,” added Farouk.
“It’s none of my business,” began Fitz, “but have you had any contact with her since your release?”
“No, and we made something of a pact of it. No questions asked, no answers expected, and no anticipation of tomorrow, we were just to enjoy the moment.”
“I see, no discussion of station either, I presume,” said Fitz.
“It never even came up,” replied Farouk.
Fitz fiddled with his com for a minute more, then switched it off.
“What are you thinking?” asked Farouk.
“I’m not sure yet, but …” began Fitz. At that moment, the dune buggy came screaming up in the yard.
The Admiral had his helmet off in an instant and managed to climb out of the seat. He was a bit unsteady at first.
“Here let me help you, my dear,” he said. Mrs. La Force had the helmet off and did not seem to worry a whit about her hair.
She was laughing uproariously, “How does one free oneself from these straps?”
Between the Admiral and Argie, they managed to get Mrs. La Force freed and back on firm ground.
Suddenly she remembered. “I hope dinner is not ruined.” Thank you, my dear,” she said to Argie. “They don’t allow servants, so I do everything myself. Would you mind giving me a hand in the kitchen?”
“Of course, Mrs. La Force,” smiled Argie.
“Oh dearie, call me Agnes,” said Mrs. La Force, taking her by the arm and leading her off to the kitchen.
As she was led away, Argie managed a glance back at Denver. She briefly raised her eyebrows as if to say, and I can cook too. Denver was mesmerized, while the others traded glances.
“I think a drink is in order,” said La Force, as he led the others inside.
Farouk, who had never been comfortable around the brass, said, “Perhaps, I should see if I can be of any use in the kitchen. Wouldn’t want them talking badly about us.”
“Quite right,” said La Force. “You reconnoiter the kitchen.”
“Not you Captain,” he added. “I’ve many questions for you.”
* * * *
Juliette Peron could not believe her eyes or her luck. There waiting tables was Commander Fitzpatrick’s fiancée. She secretly scribbled a note and folded it in her palm.
“Which tables i
s that young lady working?” she asked the girl leading her to a table.
“Over here, would you like one of her tables? She’s very popular.”
“Yes, yes I would.” She led Juliette to an empty table.
As Mei Ling approached Juliette’s table, her face brightened with recognition. “Well, hello Mademoiselle Juliette.”
“Hello Mei Ling,” she said slipping the folded piece of paper into Mei Ling’s hand.
Mei Ling took it and slipped into her apron without comment. She removed her order notebook, and said, “Would you like me to bring you a drink?”
“No, not just now. I’d like water instead.”
“I’ll be right back with your menu and water,” said Mei Ling. Once back in the kitchen where no one could see her, she removed the note.
It read, “They are in grave danger. I must see Commander Fitzpatrick as once.” Mei Ling looked away from the note for a moment not knowing what to think. She did not even know where he was tonight, having dinner with somebody, she thought.
She returned with the menu and the water. Mei Ling leaned close and pointed to some item on the menu at random. “I’m not sure where he is tonight. I’m off in two hours. Can we meet?”
“Yes, at the Conch in two hours. Will that be okay?”
“Yes,” replied Mei Ling.
Juliette placed her order, something light, as she was not particularly hungry. She did not order alcohol.
* * * *
Juliette was waiting at a table at the Conch just inside the door where she could see, but not so easily be seen. She saw Mei Ling enter. The doorman motioned in her direction.
“Hi Juliette,” she said. Mei Ling had hardly noticed the girl with Farouk the night of the engagement party, but now she looked different. There were bags under her eyes, which gave her the look of a lost waif as her complexion was so pale. There appeared to be a slight bruise on the left side of her face.
“Hello Mei Ling,” she said. “Please sit. I don’t know who to talk to, who I can trust. Everybody is being watched. My father has gotten me fired from the navy job, and I’m almost out of money.
“I see, what’s happened?” asked Mei Ling.
Hell Fighters From Earth Book 2 Page 9
