Trident Fury (The Kurgan War Book 3)

by Richard Turner

  “Any trouble getting here?” asked Cole.

  “A couple of Abbas’ goons tried to stop me.”

  “What happened?”

  “I got to try out my taser on them. Let’s just say they won’t be bothering anyone for quite some time.”

  “You and your toys. Glad you tried it out on them and not me. I guess all of our poking around has not gone unnoticed by Abbas’s stooges.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. What about you? Any luck finding us a way in?” Sheridan asked.

  “I met a guy who can take us to Boss Abbas.”

  Sheridan glanced at his watch. “We had best get a move on, the Raider Task Force will be here in just over three hours, and we haven’t found the missing air-defense weapons yet. I’d hate to think how things would go if the assault force tried to land into a storm of anti-ship missiles.”

  “It would be a bloody slaughter.” Cole stood and looked at the exit. “Looks like the coast is clear. Come on, let’s go.”

  Sheridan followed his friend outside. They walked down a side street until they came to an open-air market. Vendors stood by their stalls trying to out-shout the competition. Anything and everything was for sale. Sheridan spotted brand new Marine Corps weapons and uniforms as well as night-vision and communications gear. What surprised him the most was one disreputable-looking woman hocking a military-issue drone that appeared to be in perfect condition. What a smuggler would want with a drone was lost on him, but there was a man haggling with the vendor trying to get her to lower the price.

  A couple of minutes later, Cole stopped outside of a slender two-story building and knocked on the front door. A man’s voice from the other side of the door called out, “Who is it, and what do you want?”

  “It’s me, Alan, now open the bloody door. It’s friggin cold out here.”

  The door opened slightly. A man peered out. “Who’s that with you?”

  “He’s me mate. Mike. I told you about him. Now quit screwing around and let us in.”

  The door opened just enough to let the two men slide inside. Sheridan looked around and saw that they weren’t alone. Standing farther down the hallway was a woman with two small children at her feet. She looked at the two strangers with mistrust in her eyes.

  “Pauline, take the kids and keep out of sight until I’m done,” said the man.

  The woman took her children by the hand, stepped back into the kitchen, and locked the door.

  “Mike, I’d like you to meet Mister Smith,” said Cole.

  “Good day,” said Sheridan, doubting that Smith was the man’s real name. Their host was short and skinny with smudged, sliver-rimmed glasses perched on his hawk-like nose.

  Smith turned to face Cole. “If I get you into Abbas’ compound, I want to hear it from you that you can get my family and me off this planet with a full pardon for all my past crimes.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” replied Cole.

  “All right then. Come back in the morning and I’ll get you in there.”

  “That won’t do. We have to go there now,” said Sheridan.

  A worried look crept across Smith’s face. “I can’t do that. I usually don’t go there this late in the day. Besides he’s hosting some of the other smuggler clans’ leaders at his home tonight. Security will be tight . . . , very tight.”

  “I don’t care. Get us in there or the deal is off.”

  Smith looked to Cole for support but never got it. “You heard the man. It’s now or never, mate.”

  “If I do this I want to be paid for my services. Shall we say one million credits?”

  “A pardon and a lift off this rock are all you’re going to get from us,” said Sheridan. “The clock is ticking. Take it or leave it.”

  Smith muttered something under his breath. He stepped back and raised his hands. “Okay, I’ll do it, but let me speak to my wife first. She’s scared already; this is only going to make things worse between us.”

  “You have two minutes and then we’re leaving,” stressed Cole.

  Smith shuffled off to speak to his wife.

  Sheridan looked at Cole. “He’s the best you could find?”

  “Beggars can’t be choosers. It took me a week of negotiations just to get him to agree to this.”

  “Well, let’s hope that the missiles are still here or this trip will have been for nothing.”

  The walk through the maze-like streets of the colony to Abbas’ guarded compound took less than thirty minutes. Tall steel walls with guard towers every one hundred meters enclosed the sprawling complex. A drone hovered in the sky, keeping watch on all who approached Abbas’ home.

  Cole reached out and stopped Smith. “Before we go another step, I want to know what your plan is to get us in there.”

  “I do daily maintenance on the compound’s heating system. I’m going to tell them I forgot to do something and want to make sure that it won’t fail during the night.”

  “That explains you, what about us?”

  “I’ll say that you are looking for work and that I’m teaching you all about my job.”

  “Sounds pretty flimsy.”

  “It’s the best I can think of. I’m not used to thinking on my feet.”

  Sheridan bit his lip. He would have preferred more time to concoct a better story, but time was in short supply. He knew it was now or never. He looked at Cole. “Let’s go.”

  At the front gate stood two mercenaries dressed in full body armor. They were covered entirely with state-of-the-art armor designed to withstand any small-arms fire and most fragmentation devices. Sheridan knew that it was heavy to wear and impractical to fight in, but for standing guard, it was perfect.

  As they got closer, Smith waved at the guards. One of the men stepped forward and raised a hand. “What do you want?” asked the guard, his voice sounded metallic through the helmet’s speaker.

  “I think I may have screwed up earlier,” replied Smith. “I want to double check my work on the heater before the sun goes down.”

  “What about them?”

  “They are my apprentices. I can’t do this forever. The sooner I train someone to replace me, the sooner I can spend more time with my young wife . . . if you get my meaning.”

  The guard motioned for Sheridan and Cole to step forward. He slung his assault rifle, grabbed a scanning device from his belt, and turned it on. He pointed at Cole. “You first.”

  Covered by his partner, the mercenary ran the scanner over Cole’s body. When he saw that there were no weapons concealed under Cole’s clothes, he made him stand by Smith. Sheridan was next. The guard was almost finished with his sweep when the device chimed by Sheridan’s head.

  Sheridan smiled. “It’s only a hearing aide.”

  The guard ran his scanner back and forth. It only went off by Sheridan’s right ear.

  “Do you want to see it?” asked Sheridan. “It isn’t much, but without it I’m as deaf as a post in my right ear. I bought it for a couple of credits in the bazaar last week.”

  The guard shook his head. “You can proceed.”

  Sheridan nodded and walked over to Cole’s side. His heart was racing in his chest. They had no weapons on them. If the guards had opened fire, they would have been dead in seconds. Before leaving Smith’s home, they had hidden all of their weapons in a cupboard, intending to pick them up when they were done.

  The guard spoke into his communicator. A couple of seconds later, the front gates slid open. “Go on and be quick about it.”

  “Right you are,” replied Smith, taking the lead.

  As they stepped into the compound, Sheridan was stunned to see how large it really was. Even with an orbiting satellite, the fleet had no idea just how well defended Abbas’ home really was. Blocked from view by an electronic field that obscured the complex from observation, it stretched out for four square city blocks. Sheridan saw that there was at least a company of well-armed mercenaries spread throughout the compound, along with anti-tank and anti-per
sonnel weapons that were mounted on several stolen military eight-wheeled fast-attack vehicles.

  Cole nudged Sheridan in the ribs and indicated with his head at a row of tall objects covered by tarps. It was apparent from the shape and size that they had found the missing air-defense missiles.

  Smith led them past the missiles and down to a set of stairs that led underground. They walked along for a couple of minutes before coming to the room that housed the compound’s generator. Smith typed his passcode into a panel on the wall. The door slid open. He turned to face Cole. “Okay, I’ve lived up to my part of the bargain. I’ve gotten you inside and now I’m leaving before you get caught.”

  “Just a minute,” replied Cole, grabbing Smith by the arm and pushing him into the room.

  “I’m not getting anything,” Sheridan said, tapping his hearing aide. Built into his earpiece was a powerful receiver-transmitter. Until a minute ago he had been able to hear comms chatter from the ships waiting on the far side of the planet to begin their assault.

  “Perhaps all the metal down here is blocking your signal.”

  “No. I should be able to still hear the Orleans,” he responded, mentioning their assault ship.

  “You won’t be able to receive or transmit anything inside the compound,” Smith explained.

  “Why?” Cole asked.

  “Not only has Abbas installed a satellite scrambler, he also had a comms shield installed a year ago to prevent anyone from doing what you’re trying to do. He’s paranoid about his security. I’m sure you’ve heard that there have been several attempts on his life in the past. All of them failed, and the clans that tried to kill him were slaughtered. Not even the women and children were spared. He’s an animal.”

  “We’ve found the missiles, but we haven’t found where they are being controlled from,” said Sheridan. “Until we know where that is, we’re not leaving.”

  “What do you want to do?” Cole asked.

  Sheridan looked around until he found a toolbox. He opened it up and took out most of the tools. “I’m going to go for a quick walk around the compound. If I get stopped, I’ll simply say that I was sent to find more tools to fix the heater. You can keep an eye on Smith until I get back.”

  “Don’t you think I should go?”

  Sheridan smiled. Cole never changed. If there was a dangerous assignment, he was the first to volunteer. “It’s okay, I’m supposed to be an on-the-job trainee. Not knowing one tool from another will come in handy.”

  “If you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m coming after you.”

  “I hope to be long gone from here by that time.”

  Sheridan picked up the toolbox and made his way back outside. Snow had begun to fall from the cloud-covered sky. Sheridan pulled up his hood and walked back toward the missile battery. At the first launcher, he put his toolbox down and bent to tie his laces. As before, he checked that he wasn’t being followed. He brought his head up and looked for an obvious spot to house the computer system that controlled the Skybolt missiles. It took him only a few seconds to eliminate all the nearest buildings except for one which was guarded by two men in full armor. He stood up and walked toward the mercenaries.

  One of the guards saw him coming and pointed his assault rifle at Sheridan. “Stop where you are. What do you want?”

  Sheridan stopped in his tracks and pointed to his toolbox. “My boss told me to go and look for something he called a sonic spanner. I thought there might be one in that building.”

  “You thought wrong. Now move along or I’ll be forced to shoot you.”

  Sheridan stepped back. “Whoa, there. There’s no need for that. I’m leaving.” As he took another step, he saw the door to the building open and a man move outside to confer with the guards. In the brief moment, he saw military-grade computers stacked in their hardened cases sitting against the far wall.

  “I said move along,” warned the mercenary, charging his weapon.

  Sheridan spun about and began to walk quickly back the way he came. His mind was a whirl. He doubted that the assault force would spot the missiles before they were launched if Abbas were jamming everything around his compound. He and Cole had to find a way to either mark the command center for destruction or neutralize it themselves.

  A young girl’s voice cried out.

  Sheridan turned his head and stopped walking when he saw a group of at least thirty young girls being forced into the back of a couple of transports. As the vehicles drove past him, Sheridan swore under his breath when he saw that the girls all looked to be no older than thirteen or fourteen years of age. His gut churned at the thought that the girls were most likely about to be moved off-world and sold into prostitution. He hurried back to Cole and passed on what he had discovered.

  Sheridan asked Smith. “Those girls, do you know when they are scheduled to be flown out of here?”

  The mechanic shook his head. “I have no idea. Abbas is hosting several other clans here tonight. Perhaps he intends to auction off the girls at that time?”

  “Makes sense,” said Cole. “Any idea where this might occur?”

  “In Boss Abbas’ home. He has several tunnels built under his mansion. I’d bet good money that the girls will be held there.”

  Sheridan checked his watch. Time was running out. “I need to get outside of the compound so I can tell the Orleans where the missiles are, and more importantly, where the command center is.”

  Cole grabbed Smith and pushed him toward the door. “Okay, mate, lead on and don’t even think about trying anything foolish on the way out. I can snap your neck faster than you can call for help.”

  They walked back up onto the open ground. It did not take long for them to spot the front gate. Everyone picked up the pace. When they were less than fifty meters from the exit, a couple of armored vehicles came out of nowhere, sped past them, came to a screeching halt, and turned their weapons on the three men. The ten-wheeled metal beasts each had a turret with a cannon and four anti-tank launchers on it.

  “Stop where you are and raise your hands over your heads,” warned a voice from a nearby guard tower.

  “You piece of crap. How much did they pay you to rat us out?” said Cole to Smith.

  “A hell of a lot of credits. I’ve got debts to pay and a family to feed,” replied Smith as he stepped to one side and waved up at the guard in the tower.

  Sheridan and Cole looked at one another and then raised their hands in surrender.

  The ramp at the back of one of the armored vehicles lowered. A squad of mercenaries ran out and rushed to take up positions around the two Marines. From behind them, another personnel carrier drove up and stopped. The ramp dropped and an obese man wearing a gold-colored suit and parka stepped out.

  “You have done well,” said the man to Smith.

  “Thank you, Mister Abbas,” replied Smith.

  “Kill him,” ordered Abbas.

  “No!” pleaded Smith. A split second later, a shot rang out. Smith’s head blew apart from the impact. His dead body tumbled to the ground.

  Abbas walked over to the men guarding Cole and Sheridan. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. My name is Salih Abbas. There is no need for you to introduce yourselves, I know precisely who you are. Welcome to my home, Captain Michael Sheridan and Mater Sergeant Alan Cole of the Marine Corps.”

  “How long have you known who we are?” Sheridan asked.

  “Oh, not very long. My late mechanic’s wife called me and told me that you were on your way. When you arrived at the front gate, I had your faces scanned by my UAV and in less than a minute, I had copies of your service records on my computer.”

  “Sweet,” mumbled said Cole. “I thought only the Kurgs had access to our files.”

  “Surprise,” replied Abbas.

  Sheridan looked over at the bloodied corpse lying on the ground. “Why did you kill Smith?”

  “Smith?” said Abbas. “Oh, you mean Mister Phillips. He showed me that he could not be trusted, and loyalty
is what I treasure above all else. His wife, on the other hand, has earned my undying trust and ten thousand credits for selling all of you out.”

  “Wonderful place you’ve got here,” said Cole.

  “Please lower your arms. You look foolish,” said Abbas. “Now, gentlemen, if you will promise to behave, I won’t have you shackled and dragged behind one of the APCs.”

  Both men dropped their arms.

  “I can play ball,” said Cole.

  “I guess we don’t have much choice now, do we?” added Sheridan.

  “No, you don’t,” said Abbas.

  Sheridan was led at gunpoint into the back of one of the armored vehicles and Cole the other. The ride to Abbas’ home took only a couple of minutes. Once there, the two Marines were escorted up to the second floor of Abbas’ palatial home. Everything inside the home was either made of gold or was made to look like it was. They were moved by a couple of guards out onto a balcony overlooking a large pit dug into the ground.

  Sheridan looked down. Even through the blowing snow, he could see the ground. His stomach turned when he saw the remains of several people scattered about.

  “There is so little entertainment out here,” said Abbas, sounding bored. “Profits are always high, but I do miss the social circuit back on Earth.”

  “I guess the rumors are true,” said Sheridan. “You do feed people to animals for fun.”

  Abbas smiled. “Yes, I like to use Arctotherium augustidens. Although it isn’t native to this planet, I’ve always been fascinated with giant bears, so I had a couple brought here. As you can see by the remains, my pets are well fed.”

  “How big are these giant bears?” asked Cole, peering below

  “These two are truly marvelous specimens. Both are over five meters long and weigh in excess of eighteen hundred kilograms.”

  “I don’t get it, Abbas. Why are you bothering to explain any of this to us?” Sheridan asked.