Breakaway: A Cassandra Kresnov Novel (v1.1)

by Joel Shepherd

  "Everybody out!" Clackbump! Hard touchdown and still rolling, she turned and went, a fast scramble down the narrow aisle. Got out just after Odano, the wind and roar of flyer engines deafening as she sprinted past the re-angling nacelle for the looming shuttle-tail, quickly overtaking those ahead as the flyer lifted once more behind, and made back the way it'd come. She slowed to a steady armoured run, weapon cradled comfortably, headed under the shuttle's looming right wing, around the ground vehicles and maintenance gear, aiming for the front-right rim of the huge shed ... it seemed empty of people, everyone having evacuated from this position, at least, loose equipment left strewn about the interior, a huge elevator platform left suspended in mid-engine-inspection beside huge undercarriage tyres. Shuttles used covered berths, unlike regular aircraft, all refuelling, engineering, passenger-transfer and other servicing equipment built into the structure of the berth shelter, locking shuttle and terminal into close, mutual embrace. As she scanned about within the echoing, cavernous interior amid the steady clattering of many running, armoured footsteps, Sandy reflected that they also made for very good defensive cover.

  Gunfire erupted on tac-net, numerous sources, vaguely audible to the ear through muffling earpieces and armoured helmets ... "Contact," Vanessa said in her ear, and she could see on tac-net the lead elements had gotten down into the main levels of north terminal, advanced as far as the narrow north wing entrance, and immediately been pinned down by defensive positions there. Vanessa had several more on the next level up, three pairs out wide to cover the full hall and maintenance accessways, two more on the tarmac down low where the baggage vehicles docked, and two remaining up on the roof, just as she'd asked ... that was the full sixteen. "Main level's blocked ... that's good defensive position, can't get that out short of cannon. Upper level's the same ... maintenance left is booby trapped, I could run it, but I'd rather not ... "

  "No, don't do that, not against FIA." Sandy raced for the forward, right-hand corner of the Berth 11 structure, gesturing the others to stay well back as she slammed her armoured back beside the rim. Snuck a quick look out, and to no great surprise drew fire from well up along the tarmac ... "I'm drawing fire from Berth 13," she yelled over the thunder of rounds that clanged and sparked off the rim or smacked heavily into shuttle wheels or maintenance gear further back in the shed, her team-mates flattening themselves hard to wall and ground. "Heavy-cal, looks mounted, that covers the whole west side of north wing ... hang on. . . " And looked back at her group. "... Weng, take your two and Odano back to the side exit there, get up to level one, spread out and hold this flank. Don't let anyone come back around us, or you'll leave SWAT Four exposed on their left."

  Weng, the senior of the three sec agents nodded once and left at a clattering run, the other three in tow ... truth was she didn't trust GSA's security detail much from what she'd seen of them, theoretically better grunts than field agents but with a fixed, immobile conception of "defend" rather than "fight." Right now she preferred Ari and Kazuma, at least they knew what a fluid situation looked like. The fire stopped, replaced by the muffled, staccato thunder on the tac-net, more audible now to the naked ear. Berth 15 was right up the end ... had to get close enough to damage that shuttle or otherwise stop it from taking off. Damn inconvenience that surviving fire-grid emplacement, if it was gone they could just use a flyer to do it.

  "Look, Ricey, keep them occupied. Pressing too hard won't help, I'm sure they've booby trapped the whole damn floor, even if they did fall back ... I can make up some ground out here, I'll try and get under them."

  "Copy that. "

  She turned back to Ari and Kazuma. Ari looked very concerned beneath serious dark brows, helmet visor up for the moment. Kazuma, she was relieved to see, appeared totally businesslike. "We're going that way," she told them, pointing out around the fire-chewed rim, "if you get shot at, fall flat. If you're not getting shot at, run like hell. Follow my lead, cover each other, don't try to do what I do, because you can't. And, for godsake, watch the west wing over there," pointing left over to the line of berths two hundred metres west that ran parallel to this wing, "'cause that's where the secondary cover will be. I can't see anything yet, but there's any amount of cover, and even I can't see everything, it'll be there." A short, flat nod from Kazuma.

  "That way?" Ari said with trepidation. "What about that gun?"

  "What about it?" She rolled her back to the wall again, shifted firegrip to her left hand, braced, and leaned quickly out, with the rifle propped to her left shoulder. Fired a brief burst. Three hundred metres out along the tarmac, the man manning the tripod-mounted machine gun past a narrow edge of Berth 13's rim took five rounds through the chest and died. A second burst riddled the gun mount, sent it crashing heavily to the ground.

  She ducked out, zagged right, cleared the corner of the north terminal building and got a good view of where the long north wing adjoined-the location of SWAT Four's firefight. Immediately did a full-spectral scan across the wing directly ahead-three main levelsthe middle one for passengers, upper for maintenance-and a lower one for baggage and flight operations. Only the middle passenger level offered a clear run through to the end of the wing ... SWAT Four were pinned down at the mouth. She headed that way at full sprint, weapon trained upon Berths 12 and 13 up ahead to the left as she ran. Hurdled some abandoned luggage rollers and flattened herself to the side wall of the terminal building behind an outcrop of airconditioning complex-back-first to observe Ari and Kazuma following at full sprinther gaze panning to the west wing. An adjoining empty shuttle berth, accompanying ground vehicles and a lot of cover points ... she pointed that way to Kazuma as she arrived. Kazuma smacked the wall beside her and dropped to a one-knee cover, weapon trained in that direction across two hundred metres of exposed tarmac.

  Sandy ducked a glance around the corner of the aircon juncture, at the point where the long length of north wing accessway attached to the main building and created the well defended bottleneck ... inside the main-level windows, muzzle flashes were clearly evident, already side windows were riddled in places. Further along, the one-shuttle hangar of Berth 12 opened directly toward them, the entire dark, cavernous interior exposed and presently unoccupied ... she didn't like it. Between here and Berth 12 were more abandoned ground vehicles, a passenger bus parked just twenty metres away, some elevating platforms for accessing tall shuttle cargo bays. Tac-net showed two marks well positioned on the roof of north wing, only one was available to cover them.

  "Zago, this is Snowcat, cover please, I am advancing."

  Ari arrived and slid in with a metallic clatter.

  "Go, Snowcat. "

  Sandy slid around the corner and ran for the bus. Registered movement behind a polarised upper window even as she emerged from the other side, snapped fire upward as she ran, windows shattering, and abruptly drew fire from Berth 12 ... threw herself behind a baggage vehicle as rounds snapped and twanged all about, and then there was fire streaking across the tarmac from the west wing, several-sourced and heavy. The baggage vehicle rocked and lost pieces violently, Sandy rolled fast, doing mental triangulation on the sources, popped to a knee and nailed a burst back across the tarmac ... one source of fire ceased. More fire was coming from Ari and Kazuma from back behind the aircon juncture, impacts spraying across the various cover two hundred metres away, keeping heads down. She up and ran at a ready crouch, heavy fire thudding overhead from Zago on the roof into Berth 12...

  "No fix on the target, Sandy, " came Zago's terse comment, "I'm firin' blind. "

  "Keep at it, I got no angle here ..." Angling closer to the side of the north wing that loomed overhead, running on mag-lines where automated tarmac vehicles normally plied along the sides ... more fire from west wing and she dropped to another roll as rounds struck the wall on her right, then up and scanning ... movement halfway up the interior wall of the Berth 12 hangar. She fired-a body fell on a walkway, weapon clattering to the tarmac below-and flung herself right at the sound of break
ing glass above, shots from overhead peppering the spot where she'd been. Kazuma swung around from behind the aircon juncture, firing above her head. Shots ceased, either hit or frightened. Sandy unflattened herself off the wall, duck-rolled again as more fire streaked across from the west wing in flat, clustered bursts, popped up and returned fire across the tarmac on a good fix this time, vision magnification saw a body flung backward and rebound from sight.

  "Go go," she heard Ari's voice, "I'm covering." And Kazuma was sprinting from cover ... Sandy watched it all on tac-net, that everpresent sixth-sense that overlaid her consciousness ... the firefight stalemate in the narrow bottleneck in the building above, and now the open path she was trying to carve up the flank here outside.

  "Sandy, they just pulled two off the line here," Vanessa said, "they know you're flankin', get ready for company ... "

  "Got that, Ricey ... just hold them there. Keep 'em occupied, I want to get a response and see how many they've got ..." Behind her the bus blew up in a flaming explosion, she zagged hard left, headed for the outer rim of the Berth 12 hangar as blazing debris spattered the tarmac about her like rain. Slid into it as Ari went running for Kazuma, yelling at her, Kazuma replying groggily that she was okay ... thunder of more weapons fire from the west wing, new position this time, it sounded like platoon support ... she snuck a glance around, saw the flash of fire-trail and ducked back hard and covered ... WHAM!! as the round hit the hangar wall with a force that dislocated reality and turned the world to flames and noise. Fire ripped past from her left, ricocheting from the inner Berth 12 wall in a violent confusion of lethal metal-coming from Berth 13 ... Dammit, they were communicating, they thought they had her pinned.

  She flipped the rifle about, targeted left across her body. Just the top half of the Berth 13 gunner's head was visible a hundred metres away-she blew it off, and half-spun around the corner, rifle straightarmed at almost a backward angle. Triggered a sustained burst that sent another of them spinning away in a flail of limbs from two hundred metres before the two others could duck for cover that saved their lives by milliseconds. Then she ran through the hangar toward Berth 13, knowing full well they knew exactly who she was now. It was becoming unmistakable that this one trooper headed up the tarmac outside the north wing consistently killed everyone who shot at her, regardless of range, numbers or merely human considerations of accuracy. But she didn't mind if they knew.

  "Ayako's okay!" Ari was saying with great relief. "She's winded ... that was some goddamn heavy weaponry, they've got God-knows how many people over on the west wing covering for them."

  "Final fire-up on the shuttle," said Hiraki, "we're about to run out of time." Sandy paused her run to crouch by the huge wheelbrace that would have secured a shuttle when the hangar was occupied-seeing movement in the shadow of the Berth 13 hangar but wary of firing in a civilian environment without a clear ID ...

  "I got an angle on a wall here," Vanessa announced, "I'm gonna try it, they're two short on this side now ... Arvi, let's go."

  "Watch the wiring ... "

  They had it covered, Sandy knew ... fired a long burst into Berth 13 to scare whoever was there, and received the thump of an RPG in return, saw it coming on a flame-trail streaking across the tarmac and threw herself into a calculating leftward run-and-dive for the wall ... BOOM!! the shockwave shuddered ... fire-tracking her to the wall, riddling punctures through the broad hydraulic piping running across there, a half-blinding spray of green fluid as she pressed left shoulder to the bulkhead and returned fire ...

  Huge series of explosions from the buildings behind, tac-net flaring heat and fury before SWAT Four's position, terse shouts from Vanessa, snap-firing and an advance forward in pairs ... suddenly the way was being cleared ... Sandy realised something was burning on the hangar wall above her, and was not greatly surprised when the next grenade went shooting that way. She leapt right and kept sprinting, hurdling wheelbraces and access elevators for the hangar's other side as the explosion took out fuel lines on the wall in a massive fireball that set the entire wall burning ... she smashed a foot into the side access door and went through it, confronted immediately by a cramped upward stairway of metal rails and ferrocrete, up which she exploded a flight at a time ... booted the upper door off its hinges and plunged down the short adjoining corridor to the main north wing, obliterated that door in similar fashion and ducked a glance out ... she was in the passenger walk-in from the waiting lounge. Ran quickly up the walk, cranked that heavy door open and was in the lounge itself, rows of empty seats behind a heavy glass partition from the main wing thoroughfare ... like spaceports/airports everywhere, in her short experience with such things. Except that charging up the long walking hall of this spaceport came several heavily armoured SWAT troops at full sprint alongside the long pedestrian conveyor belts, weapons levelled, ignoring her as they passed, tac-net already having identified her position ...

  "Watch Berth 14," she told them, quickly hurdling rows of chairs, "I still don't have an ID on the occupant." Smashed a fist through the heavy glass, then crashed shoulder-first into the long, straight hallway, trading the old rifle magazine for a fresh one from the hip-pouch ... quick glance back at the choking smoke obscuring all view far down the end of the main building-several more SWAT troops charging her way ... and that would be Vanessa, bringing up the rear on short legs. Those were the FIA-fixed booby trap explosives she'd seen blow-those huge explosions from where SWAT Four had been pinned-Vanessa had found a way to detonate them herself ... she admitted herself puzzled, she knew of several tricks but nothing with the capabilities SWAT Four possessed. But where capabilities were concerned, there was SWAT Four, there were SWAT procedures, and then there was Vanessa ...

  "Ari," she called as she broke into a run, "stay with Kazuma, keep down and don't get exposed."

  "I got it ..." And another call cut in over the top ...

  "Snowcat, this is HQ, Berth 14 is occupied by a shuttle registered to the Diligent, currently in stand-off orbit from Markov Station ... "

  "I copy, HQ ... SWAT Four, hold and cover!" Ahead the running troopers dropped to skidding, clattering halts just short of where the thoroughfare ahead opened into a broad circular space. Sandy kept running, accelerating to a loping, over-accelerated gait with explosive thrusts of her legs. "Berth 14 is a League shuttle! Full caution, target left is not secure!" Marking tac-net red-hostile with a mental impulse, sliding in feet-first beside Singh, rolling at the last moment to come over face-first and rifle-braced.

  The broad, circular waiting area had two berths, 14 diagonally to the left, and 15 diagonally to the right. Scan-entry consoles and service desks were deserted, security doors across the exits closed and, according to tac-net, locked. Sandy didn't trust that reading for a second. Semi-circular arrangements of waiting seats for passengers, an inbuilt cafe to the left, a display arrangement for the Tanushan tourist bureau to the right, touch-screen and interactive. Before the waiting seats a flatscreen TV displayed a realtime image from some aircar beyond the spaceport perimeter ... a newsfeed, camera focused with no doubt horrified fascination upon the various plumes of smoke rising from different locations across the spaceport grounds. To the best of her memory, it was the first time she'd ever done an op on live net-broadcast before.

  Clatter-thump as Vanessa slid in beside her.

  "They didn't get a berth right next to an FIA ship by accident," Vanessa said off-net, voice muffled behind the faceplate of heavy SWAT armour. "They must have finagled it."

  Sandy's mind raced. Remembered Ramoja's explanations. The change of League government, the new League factions sent out to Callay to help "put things straight." Diligent, however, was not the ship Ramoja had arrived on ... that was the Rodriguez, it and Diligent had come in together from League space, both military-registered cruisers, high on power, low on mass, very little crew space ... courier vessels, as they were commonly known. Each carried its own shuttle ... this was no doubt one, presently docked in Berth 14, its ID k
ept silent for security protocol reasons, the League admitting to no "official delegation" at this moment.

  A new League government sent two courier ships to address the problem the old League government had helped create on Callay. One held Ramoja, a senior and apparently trusted League Intelligence officer, plus a complement of additional GIs for extra muscle. Those GIs were Dark Star ... military, not Intelligence. Were all of them on Rodriguez? What was Diligent doing here? And why had they only just sent their shuttle down now, and arranged for it to get a berth directly alongside a shuttle they'd assuredly know belonged to the FIA? Unless ...

  Unless they knew something was going to happen. Ramoja's stolen information from the Zaiko Warren that she'd chased him to try and uncover. Stolen from Sai Va's friends. Sai Va hadn't been able to crack the codes and discover Neiland's plan for the relocation of Federation governance. Ramoja was Intel, and however good the Tanushan underground, she doubted they quite measured up to League Intel's capabilities ... especially given the League's longstanding underground presence in Tanusha. Ramoja had probably cracked Sai Va's information in a few hours, and discovered what Neiland was up to. That done, it couldn't have been a difficult guess for him that the FIA would want Governor Dali off-planet by any means necessary. Intel's obsession with a low profile meant he couldn't intervene directly. But now a mysterious second shuttle had come down from the second League ship in orbit and had just happened to dock beside the FIA shuttle of Dali's intended get-away ...