Alpha Contracts

by Chris Kennedy

  Chagan threw open the door and stepped back, allowing the men to enter. The noise level went up exponentially as Altan walked into the building, and he pursed his lips. “Where is the classroom with your oldest children?” he asked.

  “It is the first door to the right.”

  Altan and Borte walked into the room and found an adult reading a book in the corner while 45 students generally appeared to be doing whatever they wanted. “Get their attention,” Altan said.

  “Students!” Chagan yelled. Her shrill voice was ignored, except for a few who answered her with various comments about her parentage, or lack thereof.

  “Get their attention,” Altan repeated, looking at Borte. “Show them who is in charge.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Borte roared.

  There was a moment of silence, then individual voices began yelling abuse at the men. One of the students, who appeared to be about 15, sauntered toward the group of adults. “And just who the fuck do you think you are?”

  Borte backhanded the boy, kicked his legs out from under him, and drove him to the floor. A pistol appeared in Borte’s hand, and he rammed the barrel into the boy’s mouth, loosening several of his front teeth. The room went silent.

  “He’s the Boss,” Borte growled, “and no one talks to the Boss that way.”

  The boy stared up at Borte, his eyes wide.

  “Do you understand me, you ignorant bastard?” Borte asked.

  The boy tried to nod, but it was hard for him, as far into his mouth as Borte had the pistol. The boy gagged, and Borte looked up at Altan. “He says he understand, Boss.”

  “Good. Let him up.”

  Borte removed the pistol and stood up. The boy crab-walked backward several steps, before getting to his feet and returning to the safety of his comrades.

  “This is how it is going to be,” Altan said, his voice low and dangerous. “The school is open under new management, and discipline has been restored. You will either do as you are told, and learn what you’re told, or you’ll be gone. Permanently. Examples will be made of students until those who remain do what they’re told. Do you understand me?”

  His voice was so low, many of the students missed the question, while others just nodded or replied with variety of responses.

  “The Boss asked if you understood!” Borte roared. “The answer is ‘Yes, sir!’”

  “Yes, sir!” the students said, almost in unison.

  “Good,” Altan said with a nod. He turned to the teacher. “The class is yours; please teach.” He started to leave but then turned around to address the students. “Don’t make me give you another demonstration of who’s in charge. You won’t like it.”

  Altan walked out the door, with Borte close behind him. Chagan caught up with the men as they left the building. “What did you mean, ‘open under new management?’”

  “Simple. You lack the discipline and resources to run this school. I have both, and will provide whatever it takes to turn this into a functioning school. Order will be restored, and both you and your staff will be rewarded for your efforts going forward.”

  “Thank you!” the woman exclaimed breathlessly.

  “In return, though, I will be the one to set the curriculum. You mentioned that when the students here graduated, they were only fit for a life of crime? I will show you how that’s really done.”

  * * * * *

  The Golden Horde - 3

  “We have one month prior to when we are supposed to depart for our mission,” Altan announced. “How are our preparations proceeding?”

  Torkan Enkh looked up from the papers he was holding. “I think we will have enough manning with the first wave of graduates from the school. I also think we will have enough product to take with us to introduce ourselves to the aliens and start a new base of operations on the planet we’re going to, as well as any other stations we might stop at along the way.”

  “That’s good,” Yisu said.

  “The one area in which we’re lacking is weapons,” Torkan continued. “While nearly everyone has a pistol of some variety, it’s impossible to plan for the right amount of ammunition to bring, since I don’t know what calibers they all are.”

  “How do you know what is the right amount of ammunition to bring?” Borte asked. “Do we even know what we’re going to be doing?”

  Torkan picked up a thick stack of paper. “This monstrosity is the Mercenary Guild rules on what is expected when someone hires a guild-standard battalion of troops. That’s two companies of two platoons of two squads of ten men each, plus leaders, staff, and a medical unit. All of them are supposed to be armed in accordance with a generic load plan, although some variation is allowed based on the requirements of the mission.”

  “What type of requirements?” Yisu asked.

  “Well, normally we would either have four armored personnel carriers, some airborne assets, or something else to take us around. Because this is a defensive contract, with a—” he looked down, “‘single objective that must be defended,’ mobility assets are not required.” He looked back up. “I’m glad we don’t need them, because I have no idea where we’d buy or steal four APCs. It’s going to be hard enough just acquiring the weapons and uniforms we need.”

  “Uniforms?” Borte asked.

  “Yes, we all have to have uniforms, and they all have to be the same. Of course, if they weren’t, they wouldn’t be ‘uniform.’” He looked down. “‘Each combat unit must have a uniform worn by all personnel that is sufficiently dissimilar to differentiate the unit from local non-combatants and other combatant forces in the area of operations. If a unit’s uniform is similar to non-combatants or other combatants already in place upon arrival, the later-arriving units must have their uniforms altered sufficiently to be easily distinguishable from the pre-existing forces.’”

  “So we need uniforms and weapons,” Yisu said.

  “That is correct,” Torkan said. “While we have money coming in, we don’t have enough to purchase all the equipment needed.”

  “Jochi, I understand you have a solution?” Altan asked.

  “Yes, Boss,” the head of foreign distribution said. “It will take some daring, but I think it can be done. I’ve been talking with some of my contacts, and here is what I suggest. We will take three trucks to Bekdash, Turkmenistan and ferry them over to Bilgah, Azerbaijan. From there, we drive to Gudauta, Georgia.” He paused.

  “And once we’re there?” Yisu asked.

  “Then we hit the Russian military base at Bombora Military Airport.”

  “That’s crazy!” Yisu exclaimed. “There’s got to be a better way.”

  “I thought it crazy, too, when Jochi first suggested it to me,” Altan said, “but I think it can be done.”

  “For the sake of argument, Jochi,” Borte interrupted, waving Yisu to silence, “tell us all why you think this can be done.”

  “I wouldn’t want to hit a Russian base in Russia,” Jochi said; “I agree, that would be foolish. Not only would we have a hard time getting into the base, we’d have a bitch of a time getting back out of the country. Not so with the base in Bombora—the Georgians don’t want the Russians there, and I think they will be more than happy to overlook something that gives the Russians a black eye, especially if we have a little money to pay them off. If we can get even an hour down the road from the base, the Russians will never find us. We then cross back into Azerbaijan and ferry over to Turkmenistan again. In both of those countries, I have contacts that can get us through any checkpoints their governments have set up. There won’t be any Russians—the Russians don’t have jurisdiction in those countries.”

  “Okay, I see how we may be able to get there and back,” Borte allowed, “but what about getting onto the base? Surely, since the Russians are in a foreign country, they will be guarding the base pretty closely.”

  “Actually, a large portion of the heroin we send to Georgia is used by the Russians on base there. They are a forward garrison that never doe
s anything. They’re bored, and their security is lax. My contact can show us how to get onto base without being seen.”

  “You’re going to get three trucks onto base without being seen?” Torkan asked.

  Jochi nodded. “My contact says it can be done. The Russians only have authority on the base, too. Once we get off base, they have to go through the local Georgian police.”

  “The question is,” Altan said, “can you do all of this in the time we have remaining?”

  “We can. It will be close, and we will have to leave within the next few days, but I think the mission is possible.”

  “Do it,” Altan said. “Leave in two days. Let me know how many men you need.”

  “I will,” Jochi said with a small smile.

  “Anything else?” Altan asked.

  “Yes,” Torkan said. “We also need patches to identify ourselves. I’ve taken the liberty of arranging them.” He picked up a bag and dumped it onto the table. Dozens of round emblems poured from the bag into a small pile.

  Borte picked one up. It had the picture of a woman shooting a small bow from horseback. He held it up to Altan. “What is this, exactly? Are we to become women?”

  “No,” Altan said. “We are to become the Golden Horde.”

  “Why is that, Boss? Why not just stay the Gray Wolves?”

  “I want to have a public name different from the Gray Wolves, something that will allow us to separate the different branches of our enterprise. The Golden Horde namesake calls back to our ancient history, from when we ruled all of Asia…back when people respected us. They feared the Golden Horde then, just like the aliens will fear us in the future. With a dual-pronged business model, we will be able to go where other organizations can’t, using one side to get a foothold for the other. We can’t…no, we won’t be stopped!”

  “The Golden Horde name works really well, too,” Torkan added. “I needed a motto for the patches, so I used the one from our fence of the same name—the Golden Horde Pawn Shop. Its motto is ‘We Hold What You’ve Got,’ which works just as well for a merc company in the facility defense industry as it does for our money laundering operation. It serves as an advertisement for the merc unit, as well as an advertisement for our…other services.”

  “It’s done, then,” Altan said with a smile. “Gentlemen, welcome to ‘The Golden Horde!’”

  * * * * *

  The Golden Horde - 4

  Borte waited as the rest of the men filed out.

  “Is there something you needed to say in private?” Altan asked. “You look worried.”

  “I am worried, Boss,” Borte said. “I don’t understand how we’re going to pay for all of this. Where is all this extra cash coming from? Do you have a reserve I don’t know about?”

  “It’s coming from a place you never thought to look, my cousin. It’s coming from America.”

  “America? How can this be so?”

  “I need to go check in with the operation and ensure everything is running as it is supposed to. Come along, Borte, and I will show you how we make money in this new era.”

  * * *

  Altan pushed the remote control button, and the gate to Sister Mary Margaret’s swung open. “It’s almost as if you owned the place,” Borte said with a chuckle.

  “That’s one way to look at it.” Altan smiled. “I believe you will find much has changed in the month since you were last here.”

  A group of children was playing soccer in the play yard. The ball looked new, and there were goals at both ends of the field. He indicated the classroom building, and Borte pulled up to the building and parked the car. The men got out and were joined by the school’s administrator, Chagan Arasen. She seemed less harried and more confident. She was also wearing jewelry—a large golden locket was suspended on a heavy golden chain.

  “How are things progressing?” Altan asked.

  “Very well,” she replied. “The men you sent have restored order in the classrooms, and education is once again progressing. Can we discuss what you are having them taught?”

  “No,” Altan said, his tone indicating the subject was closed. He pointed to the locket. “I see you got my gift. There is more where that came from if you continue to do a good job running the school. It is important to my plans going forward.” He reached out and took her jaw in his hand so he could turn her head and meet her eyes. “Let there be no doubt, though; I am in charge of the organization of which this school is now a part. You work for me, and I expect the same level of discipline from you as I do the children. As I told them, examples will be made if required.”

  Chagan shivered, both at the tone of his words and the implication. “That won’t be necessary,” she whispered.

  “Good,” Altan replied, his tone more friendly. “I foresee this operation making us both a lot of money, and I reward excellent performance excellently. You toiled here unrewarded for years; those years are at an end.” He smiled. “Now, why don’t you give us a tour and show us how things are progressing.”

  “Certainly.” Chagan led them into the building. It was as silent inside as it had been outside, and Borte raised an eyebrow.

  “As I said,” Altan repeated, “I think you will find much has changed.”

  A large white man met them as they entered the building. “This is John,” Chagan said. “John is our senior technology and networking instructor.”

  “Hi John,” Altan said.

  “Hello, Boss,” the man replied in broken Uzbek.

  Altan smiled. “John was the best hacker my contacts could find. He has cheerfully accepted my proposal to teach at the school, and we are lucky to have him.”

  “Cheerfully?” Borte asked.

  “Yes,” Altan agreed. “I offered him 10% of the take. I’m sure it sounded like a good deal.”

  “It wasn’t all about the money,” John said in English, with Chagan translating. “I had millions of dollars in several offshore accounts from some of my previous ‘deals’; coming here is more a matter of pride and getting to see what I could accomplish with some sponsorship and protection from governmental interference.”

  “It also didn’t hurt that I said I could find him, no matter where he tried to hide,” Altan said with a shrug. Borte laughed.

  “How are things progressing?” Altan asked.

  “Very well,” the hacker replied. “All the computers and networking equipment arrived a couple of weeks ago. We’ve had classes underway for about a week.” John led them up to the second floor and into the first classroom they came to, where 20 children between 12-14 years old were seated at computers, typing away. A thin, nerdy-looking individual stood at the front of the classroom, while one of Altan’s enforcer’s hulked in the back of the room. The silence in the room was broken only by the clatter of the keyboard buttons being depressed.

  “I don’t get it,” Borte said under his breath. “How will this help with our operations?”

  “Let’s find out,” Altan said with a smile. He leaned over the closest student, a 13-year-old blonde girl, and asked, “What are you working on, my dear?”

  “I’m doing the standard Nigerian Prince scheme, Father,” the girl replied. She pointed to her screen. “I’ve had two successes so far this week, and I think two more are hooked.”

  “And how much have you brought in?”

  “I’m sorry, Father, neither of them were big; it’s only about five thousand American dollars.”

  “What do you mean?” Borte asked, “That’s great! With 20 of them here, we must be making millions of dollars a month.”

  John moved over to pat the girl on the shoulder. “Marina is actually a new student,” he said. “That is why she is on the Prince scheme; she’s still learning. The other students in this room are also working on scams like the Prince or, “You’ve just won the lottery.” They don’t pay out as frequently, so it isn’t worth wasting our best students on them, but sometimes they have big victories. When they do, the students get additional treats for
their successes. The students next door are working on a variety of identity-theft cons through which people transfer their entire credit lines into our unmarked accounts. All nice and easy.” John smiled when Chagan finished translating.

  “Boss, I love what you’ve done with the place,” Borte said.

  Altan smiled. “This is just the funding side. Wait till you see some of the other skills the students are learning.”

  “I can’t wait!” Borte exclaimed.

  Altan turned to Chagan. “Perhaps we could visit the indoor firing range next?”

  “Indoor firing range?” Borte asked.

  “Absolutely,” Chagan said. “It has been in operation for a week. If you will follow me, I will take you there.”

  The two men followed her out of the building and across the courtyard to the biggest building in the complex. They entered the structure on one end and went into a 10-foot by 20-foot room stocked with shooting supplies. Ammunition was on a short wall, a variety of targets on the longer wall, and glasses and big plastic ear muffs on the other short wall next to a door that led further into the building.

  Borte could hear firing from inside the building. “Are they using real firearms?” Borte asked. “Or is the building soundproofed? I would have thought the shots would be louder.”

  “The building was soundproofed to the best of our abilities with the materials the Boss sent. If we’d had more, we could have done a little better. While firing pistols is not too bad, any rifles that are fired inside can be heard for a short distance outside.”

  “We shall see what is in the realm of the possible,” Altan said. “We may not have time to do much more before our trip to the stars. We also have to go arrange an…equipment pickup, overseas, before we go, which will take some time, but I will let my people know what is needed.”