by T I WADE
“Roger that, Captain Pete,” replied Jonesy. “What do you want us to do? Over.”
“You will be within short-range intercom of the ISS shortly, try and communicate,” Jonesy heard the voice of his boss. “We have tried, but nobody responded. The Chinese know you are approaching; computer readouts they increase their speed shortly after you left. They are certainly monitoring your movements. If nobody wants to talk to you, just connect up and that alone should encourage them to communicate.”
Twenty minutes later SB-III began reverse thrusts to begin her breaking maneuvers to slow down to the ISS still 20 miles above them, and 6,000 miles in front.
Ten minutes later and 3,000 miles closer, Jonesy tried to communicate. There was no reaction from the ISS on all the three channels tried. However, on the third try, Houston responded asking why he was trying to communicate with the ISS.
“This is Sierra Bravo III from Ryan Richmond’s America One space ship. We are closing in with supplies for the ISS. Over,” replied Jonesy. “Requesting permission to talk to the crew aboard the ISS.”
“Do your best, buddy,” Houston replied. “We lost communications two days ago.”
“We know that there is enough food, water, and fuel aboard,” added Jonesy. “We resupplied them a few weeks ago.”
“Roger that,” replied Houston. “Please change to your old airfield’s frequency, the one you used to communicate during your launches. I have a problem here. Out.” Maggie complied, telling the Bridge of America One at the same time. This order to change radio frequencies told Jonesy that the frequency wasn’t friendly and anybody listening in wouldn’t know the airfield’s frequency.
“Sierra Bravo III to Houston, do you copy? Over,” Jonesy stated into his head piece.
“Reading you clear, Sierra Bravo III. Mike Johnson here, director of Houston. We have a problem. I believe that something or somebody has taken control of the ISS. They suddenly went off the air 48 hours ago and all signs down here show life and normal activities aboard. Also, we are not permitted to talk to you, orders from the boss. We have been told that talking to you will incur an immediate dismissal. Only I know of this channel, thanks to one of the guys who used to work with you at Nevada. I believe that we have two or three minutes before we are compromised. Over.”
“Roger that,” patched in Ryan through SB-III. “Ryan Richmond here. Mike, you and I met a few years back. Where was that?”
“MIT lecture on modern astrophysics theory by that female Russian professor.”
“Right, Mike. We believe that the Chinese are about to salvage the ISS, thanks to Mortimer knocking out their space station. We also believe that one of the two Chinese ladies aboard is not, I repeat, not, a biologist, and think she is an astronaut, and an agent of the Chinese government.”
“I was thinking about that as a possibility,” replied Mike.
“Also, this conversation is being taped up here and before anybody locates our frequency, it will be distributed if there are any threats by others. For your ears only.”
“Roger that, Ryan. I was hoping that you were still on your game. Enjoyed the ‘60 Minutes’ program the other night. Sorry to hear they hurt you. Its hell down here at NASA, but I think there is an end in sight. We never know where the administrator is, he is constantly on the go with that NSA Bishop guy, and I expect he will have found this channel in a few minutes. It is being sent out from their system here in Houston. Over.”
“Roger. We are going to salvage the ISS before the Chinese get there. We are armed and will go in today. Can we get access? Over.”
“From me, in command down here in Houston, sure you have my permission. It’s not locked. Your guys can enter at any time. There is no way the docking port can be locked down from inside. Hell, you have the same Soyuz docking ports. As far as being armed, I’m sure you guys, and any bad guys aboard the station, know what a bullet will do to the lives aboard…end them pretty quickly.”
“Who is communicating on this unjustified channel?” demanded a new very familiar voice.
“This must be my old friend and rib breaker, NASA Director Hal McNealy. I hear the FBI might be looking for you,” Ryan taunted. There was silence for several seconds. “Still too scared to speak to me, your old friend, Ryan Richmond?”
“Shut up, you poor excuse for an American,” McNealy finally responded, angrily.
“Takes one to know one,” laughed Ryan.
“Johnson you are terminated. Hand over control to your second-in-command and get out of Control. Your time with NASA is over.”
“Mike, you stay where you are. As soon as we are finished, I will send a copy of this conversation to Everson at the FBI. We should have a GPS location on McNealy and Bishop soon and I’m sure they won’t have time to terminate your job.”
“We should have terminated you at the airfield when we had the chance, Richmond,” added NSA Director Joe Bishop.
“Oh! Hi down there, shit-for-brains Joe Bishop,” interrupted Jonesy. He couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “I have my thumb on the laser gun, Ryan. Please give me permission to lock onto their GPS location and save the FBI some time.”
All anybody could hear was swearing from the two men and shouts telling their pilot to begin evasive tactics, they were about to be shot down, and the uninvited guests disappeared from the channel.
“Wow!” exclaimed Mike down in Houston.
“I’m sure you are also recording, Mike. Will you phone it through to Joe Everson? Here is his number,” and Ryan stated it clearly over the channel. “At least we know that these two idiots are airborne and he should start looking at the air force bases for a trail. They might also find Mortimer; I hear he is also in hiding.”
Suddenly a new voice came over the radio and shocked all.
“Chinese Space Authority to Sierra Bravo III, the American space ship, we want contact. Over,” stated somebody in thickly accented English.
“This is Ryan Richmond, owner of America One and Sierra Bravo III. What can I do for you?” Ryan responded. Everyone else on the frequency was listening in, even Mike down in Houston. Now he was really glad he was recording this transmission.
“This is General Yan Ming, Commander of the Chinese space program at Jiuquan Satellite Launch Center in Dongfeng Space City, China. I am under orders to tell you to stay away from the International Space Station, or we will have no choice but to attack you and your ships.”
“Orders from whom, General?” Ryan asked.
“From our Supreme Command in Beijing,” was the reply.
“I understand that you have your orders, General, but I don’t believe you have any authority to give me orders. Why should I listen?”
“Thirty minutes to ISS,” stated Maggie to the shuttle’s crew off the air.
“My orders are to tell you that, if you dock with the ISS, our new space station will have no choice but to attack you with powerful laser-guided weapons,” continued the Chinese general calmly.
“So, you are saying that we should not resupply the ISS, a space station that doesn’t belong to China, and if we do you will shoot at my ship and attempt to kill Americans, who actually are the major owners of the station. That, General, sounds a little like a threat. Are you threatening me?” asked Ryan, just as calm.
“Chinese space station about to come over Earth’s distant horizon at 47,000 miles distance,” reported Maggie for the men listening in.
“We, the Chinese people and government, are to take over control of the International Space Station as payment for the loss of the first two parts of our station. My superiors have instructed me to tell anybody who resists that the move you are about to instigate will be viewed as an act of war between China and your country.”
‘What about the astronauts inside?” was Ryan’s next question.
“The North American Space Agency has already declared them dead, why should we think any different?” the general responded.
“Since I can save their lives and you c
an’t stop me, I will save the lives of all astronauts aboard.” This statement from Ryan prompted the general to go off the air, as he didn’t reply.
“He doesn’t know how to answer that one,” offered Jonesy. “I bet he is getting new orders. Chinese space station will be in laser range in two hours,” continued Jonesy on a second channel.
“Roger that,” responded Ryan. “I agree with you, Mr. Jones. Mike in Houston, I will send you the complete recording in ten minutes. Get a copy to the ex-president, his direct number is……. Also get a copy to Joe Everson. Tell him from me that the FBI should begin checking small jet flights between internal U.S. Air Force bases. That should give them McNealy and Bishop once they go on the wanted list. Mr. Jones, keep this channel open so that I can transmit and in case our Chinese friend gets an answer. Mike, also tell Everson to search around Dover, Hill, or Nellis Air Force Bases, and especially Hill in Salt Lake City where Mortimer could be hiding. Check out all Gulfstream V flights. He rides in style.”
“Roger that, Ryan, thanks for saving my hide,” replied a relieved Mike Johnson “I’ll stay on here in Houston until further notice. We will also keep this frequency open. Out.”
The channel was quiet and the crew waited for the Chinese response.
“ISS, 1,000 miles in front of us, we are ten minutes out. Chinese space station 33,000 miles and two hours behind us,” reported Maggie over the same channel the Chinese had used.
“Roger that,” replied Ryan. “Stay with the program since nobody is speaking to us. I’ve asked our crew to power up the Russian capsule I arrived in and attach it to the Docking Port on SB-II. SB-II and SB-I will be leaving America One in five minutes.”
“Eight minutes, we will have the ISS in sight in four.”
“Just stay with the plans guys, I recommend Mr. Noble enter the ISS with a smile and without his suit, if you know what I mean,” Ryan added. VIN looked puzzled.
“So your Electrolaser will work and not electrocute your vitals,” laughed Fritz. VIN remembered the story about it shocking the person inside the suit and began taking off his space suit, his metal legs could really cause him a painful electrocution if Fritz was right.
The ISS appeared quiet and serene floating out there in space. Jonesy maneuvered SB-III to the side of the station where the NASA space shuttles used to dock. SB-III, being much thinner, would not be as prominent as the larger NASA shuttles had looked in the pictures he vividly remembered. Jonesy had secretly wanted this moment for many years, but always thought the idea of his going into space as pretty stupid.
Slowly he inverted the shuttle as Maggie readied the docking port, while Fritz readied VIN for entry. The Electrolaser was a small weapon, no bigger than a normal Taser gun. There was one copper line that ran from his right hand, which held the pistol, underneath his clothing to his chest where he wore a vest, much like a Kevlar vest. The vest was actually made out of copper and Kevlar, and had been beefed up on the airfield for duel purposes.
Even though they had a good view of the station through the cockpit windows, there was no movement. Nobody had left the lights on for them. The station’s few windows looked dark and lifeless.
Jonesy tried as hard as he could to connect the docking ports silently, but there was still a clunk and a slight vibration through the cockpit as the two craft bonded. Seconds later the radio woke up.
“To unknown craft docking at the International Space Station, this is General Yan Ming, Commander of the Chinese space program at Jiuquan Satellite Launch Center in Dongfeng Space City, China. I am under orders to tell you to stay away from the International Space Station. You do not have authority to dock with the station. Please release your docking port immediately.”
“Negative,” replied Ryan over the frequency. “I don’t see that you or the Chinese government have any jurisdiction over this station, and we will do as we please. I would like to add that the craft docking at the ISS is not an American space vehicle, nor does it belong to any country on Earth. We will be entering the International Space Station to see if the crew is alive and ascertain their condition. We are happy to give them the supplies we sent with the shuttle. Over.”
“If you enter the shuttle we will shoot and destroy your space craft as soon as our own space station is in range, in one hour. I suggest you do not enter, but pass through the supplies as you did last time, if you so wish, and then depart the station. As far as China is concerned, you will be illegally trespassing on our territory if you enter the space station. This is your last warning.”
“Since you are now threatening me, General Ming, I have the right to defend myself. My weapons could have blown your new project out of the sky a couple of hours ago. Commander Jones, activate our laser and lock onto the approaching Chinese space station. Only fire when I give the command.
“Roger that,” replied Jonesy. “Locking weapons on now,” he lied as they were not facing the station still 15,000 miles away. We have weapon-lock ready to destroy the enemy space station, sir,” added Jonesy for realism as VIN opened the outer port to the ISS. Still there was no movement from inside. The lights went green, and he opened the inner port, but the wheel seemed difficult to turn.
“I think somebody is trying to stop me from turning the port door mechanism from inside the craft,” he stated.
“I’m sure you are stronger than a girl,” responded Maggie. “Get yourself tight against the walls of the docking tube and use your legs for leverage.” VIN did so and used the extra strength in his legs to continue turning the wheel. The radio stayed silent, everybody in the cockpit watching him from underneath. Suddenly the door opened and he ejected into the dark ISS at speed. Fritz, also armed with his laser immediately entered the tube and, as Maggie ordered, closed the inner metal hatch to the shuttle behind him. VIN was already unconscious when Fritz floated in and fired his laser. He had seen VIN get hit over the head and a shadow quickly disappeared into the interior darkness.
There was the usual faint glow around him as the electric burst dispersed. It was a silent burst with no noise and he watched as a dark shape floating directly towards him just kept coming. In his other hand he held a baton, and he hit the shape away as it floated towards him. The paralyzed face of a pretty Chinese girl dressed completely in black hit him in the chest. The force of his baton hitting her on the shoulder seemed to impel the girl back the way she had come. The force of his hit propelled him into the wall of the station and he hit his head hard. It was painful and he knew that the strike would draw blood but he didn’t have time to worry about that.
He rescued VIN’s inert body from hitting the ceiling of the station and suddenly heard the voice of the general, this time in Chinese.
“Ryan, Captain Pete, where are the lights in here?” he asked urgently over his intercom. He only had 20 seconds to find the enemy.
He was told where the command center was, and pushed himself into another compartment. Here, there were dials everywhere and Pete described the approximate vicinity where he would find controls to increase the lights. Only a few seconds after he brought up the internal lights the girl propelled herself into the room. Seeing him several feet in front of her she stopped herself from floating forward. Fritz had nothing to defend himself with except the laser which would not fire again, but he hoped she didn’t know that. He aimed it at her.
“I don’t know if you speak English, but the next shot will kill you.”
“I’m dead anyway if I fail,” she replied curtly in perfect English and brought her legs up to the wall behind her and like a swimmer propelled her strong body horizontally towards Fritz. He fired and suddenly he felt a sharp electric shock and his body became useless. The girl rapidly floated towards him, he saw her eyes glaze over and her face hit him hard directly in the face. For the second time he felt his head hit something hard and he blacked out.
He came to hearing the Chinese general still giving orders in rapid Chinese, and suddenly the noise stopped as somebody turned off the radio. He
moaned, and managed to open his eyes.
“I never took Chinese in school,” said VIN, holding the still unconscious girl’s arms tightly with one strong arm around her chest while he pulled what looked like a short rope from the belt of his flight suit.
“Me either,” replied Fritz, his head hurting like hell. “You have blood dripping, or shall I say, floating off your face.”
“You too, amigo,” smiled VIN beginning to tie the girl up. She was still dead to the world. “Ryan, Jonesy, we have control of the station, I think,” he added into his intercom. “We have one Chinese chick bound and unconscious. I will check out the other crew now. Fritz is injured. Maggie, bring in the first-aid box, there isn’t one here I can see. Float in; he is in the compartment to the left of the first chamber. Don’t shoot me; remember I have my camouflage flight suit on.
Without further ado, VIN floated out of the module. Maggie would take at least three minutes to enter the ISS.
***
“I don’t care what your orders are, General, you do not own the ISS. We have entered the station and have destroyed your presence aboard,” stated Ryan as the general began speaking in English again after shouting in his own language for several minutes. “We do not appreciate being attacked by Chinese spies in the International Space Station and will put in a full report to NASA and the sixteen other countries who own it. Second, if you come within 1,000 miles of any of my spacecraft the Chinese Government will not have an operational space station anymore. We will destroy it and you will be out of a job. Take this warning seriously. You are now 10,000 miles away from losing your station.”
“I’m seeing some sort of bright blue light emitting from the Chinese station every minute or so. I do believe that they are shooting at us,” Jonesy reported a minute later. “The infrared and heat sensors aboard are picking up some sort of electrical emission coming out of the station. It is currently 9,000 miles away and still heading towards us. Maggie is in the ISS.”
