MISSION VERITAS (Black Saber Novels Book 1)

by John Murphy

  He pulled his left arm up, a difficult movement with twenty pounds tethered to it. His fingers and toes clenched the slats. He crawled up onto the stable segment.

  He readied himself again. His body felt weak, as if full of sand. He gathered the rope, making sure nothing would snag him.

  He swung the device again. As it drifted away from him, he saw the numbers.

  00:01:12

  The device landed and skidded. It hit the side of the control room door. It bounced off and went off the side of the catwalk. The rope looped around a bolt, jerked taut, and the bomb swung below the control room.

  Killian didn’t wait. He ran back to the junction platform.

  Mitchell was there, holding a handrail, her bad foot dangling.

  There wasn’t enough time for hobbling. Killian grabbed her wrist, flung it over his back, then put his shoulder into her abdomen. He hoisted her onto his shoulders and carried her toward the entrance on bloody feet.

  2 Minutes to Extraction

  “Don’t try to stop us!” Sowell shouted.

  He broke free from Kerrington and raced back toward the mine complex with Vasquez.

  Kerrington stood on the edge of the landing pad, shouting after them, “Damn it, Sowell! We’ve been through enough. I declare that this mission is completed. I’m ordering you to stand down and we’ll retrieve the prisoner later!”

  Dohrn pointed to the mine entrance. “They’re coming after us!”

  A bulky figure trudged toward them, silhouetted against the dim light over the entrance. They couldn’t make out any details, but the person appeared large and lumbering, with multiple appendages swinging slowly from side to side.

  Sowell and Vasquez stopped in their tracks and took a cautious stance, aiming their plasma rifles at the threat. Then Sowell lowered his rifle.

  “Wait, it’s Killian!”

  Vasquez lifted his face shield. “He’s got Mitchell. Hey! He’s got Mitchell!”

  The candidates rushed forward to assist.

  Before they met halfway along the path, an explosion erupted from the complex interior. Killian stumbled to his knees, then went down. He twisted toward the side where Mitchell’s legs dangled. She rolled off his shoulders and landed on her back, her head hitting the sandy ground hard. Killian continued his roll, first hitting the ground on his side, and then continuing onto his back near Mitchell’s legs.

  The explosion shocked the group near Kerrington, but they recovered enough to move in closer to the fallen candidates.

  A series of secondary explosions erupted, this time on the exterior above the warehouse. Huge flames billowed up, lapping at the control tower.

  Everyone hit the ground. Debris flew down in a hail of embers.

  When the explosions ceased, the candidates scrambled up and closed around Mitchell and Killian.

  The focus of the group was Mitchell.

  Killian stared at the sky, exhausted and panting heavily.

  “Pretty nice fireworks, Bangkok,” Spalding said, over the ringing in their ears. “Looks like you got your fucking wish.”

  Kerrington pushed his way into the group and knelt next to Mitchell. “Candidate Mitchell, are you okay?” His voice had an uncharacteristically compassionate tone.

  Mitchell opened her eyes and focused on him. She balled her fist and punched him in the face. Kerrington’s head snapped back. Blood poured from his nose.

  “You are so out of this program, you bastard!”

  Kerrington stood up angrily and observed his own blood on his hands. He snapped his gaze to the flames leaping up from the mining complex. “Killian killed all those people,” he said. “He’s a murderer. Take him prisoner!”

  A crackle came over the comm unit, barely audible over the roar of the flames. “Mission Veritas, Mission Veritas, this is Valley Forge.”

  Kerrington dashed back to his gear and grabbed the main comm unit.

  The voice emitted from the unit again. “Mission Veritas, Mission Veritas, this is Valley Forge. We’re approaching the landing zone, over!”

  Kerrington keyed the mic on the comm unit. “Oh my God! Valley Forge! Thank you! Oh, God, thank you! We’re here, we’re here!”

  A hum became audible over the noise from the mining complex. In the distance, the Valley Forge appeared, with Juno’s bright light reflecting off its hull.

  The Valley Forge’s landing lights flicked on.

  CHAPTER 28

  THE CANDIDATES STOOD in formation on the observation deck of the Blue Orchid. They had left their gear on the hangar deck outside the shuttle. Now they wore only their protective armor. They stood in the same positions they had occupied at the briefing more than seventy-two hours prior.

  Everyone was filthy and exhausted. Pima and Carmen had rejoined the group, and Mitchell stood with the aid of crutches.

  The two positions where Benson and Tucker had previously stood were empty.

  Killian stood at the head of the second row in only his supraskin bottoms. He was caked in dirt and dried blood. His feet were still bare and bloody, and his hands were bound behind his back with a length of orange rope.

  The crew hadn’t intervened, as they were awaiting the conclusion of the exercise. Until Kerrington completed his report to the commanding officer and was relieved of duty, he was still in charge of the group.

  Killian was still his prisoner.

  Rigid formality resumed as Master Sergeant Houlihan snapped the group to attention. Commander Connor was positioned behind Houlihan. Commander Burdette solemnly stood on the side.

  “Candidate Kerrington, front and center!” Houlihan ordered.

  Kerrington stepped forward, turned sharply, and stopped four feet in front of Houlihan.

  “Report!” Houlihan ordered. He did a quick right face and moved to the flank.

  Kerrington looked directly at Commander Connor.

  “This candidate is happy to report a complete and successful mission, despite troubles caused by Candidate Killian, who persistently sought to undermine my authority.

  “I realized he would be trouble to the team when he sabotaged Candidate Pima’s oxygen tube. Having lost communications with Blue Orchid, I could not call for a shuttle to rescue Candidate Pima or to relieve Candidate Killian from the mission. I took decisive action and left Candidate Carmen to care for the injured Candidate Pima while they awaited the return of the shuttle at the conclusion of the mission.

  “I further believe Candidate Killian was responsible for persuading Candidate Benson to steal our food and water and defect, thereby jeopardizing the safety of the remaining candidates.

  “We were set upon by a pack of dogs, whereupon Candidate Killian proceeded to kill rather than stun the indigenous species.

  “Against orders, Candidate Killian kept his plasma rifle on kill and fired upon a Veritas raptor that threatened Candidate Tucker, killing them both. Furthermore, Candidate Killian attempted to strangle to death Candidate Spalding. I intervened and forced them to reconcile their differences.

  “When we reached the objective, we discovered innocent civilians inhabiting the mine complex. I came up with a suitable alternate plan to both achieve the mission of detonating the explosives, as per orders, and safeguard against civilian collateral damage.”

  Kerrington paused and took a deep breath.

  “Candidate Killian revealed to the team that he had, previous to joining our military, been an enemy combatant. He admitted to killing over thirty Global Alliance soldiers. It is obvious that Candidate Killian is attempting to infiltrate Black Saber.”

  He paused again, letting the gravity of his report settle in.

  “He then fired upon Candidate Dohrn without provocation, then assaulted myself and three other candidates. I subdued and restrained him at a safe distance.

  “Despite my efforts, the prisoner mana
ged to escape detention and proceeded to detonate the explosives in an unapproved manner, resulting in an unknown number of civilian casualties.

  “We were finally able to capture and restrain this murderer and safely return to Blue Orchid.”

  The other candidates remained at rigid attention but stole glances at Kerrington. He took another deep breath, a smug look of victory on his face.

  Commander Connor spoke evenly. “Is that the mission report you will file and swear to in writing?”

  “Yes, ma’am, it is.”

  “Very well.” She paused. “You are on record. I expect no variance in your report. You are hereby relieved of command for Mission Veritas. Return to formation.”

  Kerrington saluted and returned to his position.

  Commander Connor eyed the candidates. “Candidate Killian, front and center!”

  Killian did his best to keep military formality. He hobbled in front of Commander Connor, leaving bloody footprints. He was unable to salute due to his bound hands.

  “Candidate Killian, do you agree with Candidate Kerrington’s assessment of this mission?”

  “No, ma’am, I do not.”

  “Did you kill any inhabitants of the mine?”

  He chose his words carefully. “I completed the mission as ordered.”

  “Very well. Master Sergeant Houlihan. See to this prisoner.”

  Houlihan marched forward with sharp turns until he was behind Killian. He pulled out a pocketknife and cut the bindings. Killian took a moment to rub his wrists. Flakes of dried blood fell to the deck. He put his hands by his side, assuming the position of attention.

  With sharp turns, Houlihan came to a position in front of Killian. He stared at Killian for several seconds. Killian maintained a thousand-yard stare.

  Houlihan snapped a sharp salute. “Candidate Killian, it is my honor to salute you as the first candidate of this class to qualify for Black Saber.”

  The rest of the candidates let out audible gasps. Kerrington gaped.

  Bewildered, Killian locked eyes with Houlihan.

  Houlihan finished his salute.

  “What about…your father?”

  Master Sergeant Houlihan let a grin creep into the corner of his mouth. “As I told you, my father passed away.” Houlihan did a left face and marched off.

  Commander Connor made a motion to the side, and a group of people walked from the flank and lined up behind her.

  The candidates, still confused, saw a clean-cut and shaven “Dr. Houlihan” in a khaki naval officer uniform. Next to him stood an older woman, also in uniform. She looked weathered. Her face was gaunt, and her silvery hair was tied up in a military bun. Killian had a fleeting impression that she might be the woman Benson had spoken of. This suspicion was furthered by the fact that Benson was standing next to her. Benson wore the flight suit he’d arrived in. He looked ashamed and didn’t meet their eyes.

  The group also included four men in crew flight suits. They weren’t recognizable. One had his right arm in a sling.

  Commander Connor spoke. “Candidates, what you have just experienced is a program carefully developed by the late Dr. Houlihan, portrayed this cycle by Lieutenant Commander Dunforth.”

  The clean-cut officer in the lineup stepped forward, nodded his head, and then stepped back.

  “Between dozens of cameras along your route, your helmet cams, and shipboard optics, we have been tracking, observing, recording, and scoring your every movement. Despite what you perceived as a loss of communications, we heard everything you said—everything. All the way to your discovery of our merry band of inhabitants.” She gestured to the people assembled behind her, each of whom nodded in return.

  “We saw it all,” she said. “Each scenario was designed to show us how you would react and respond under stress and impaired conditions. We set your schedule so that you were perpetually behind. Because of the effects of the atmosphere, we got a glimpse into your souls.

  “In combat, innumerable obstacles and situations prey upon your emotions and sensibilities. It is always easy to talk yourselves out of doing something difficult. It is hard to persist in the face of setbacks and uncertainty. In war, we are perpetually faced with enemies who are ruthless and inhumane. Unfortunately, our oppressors omit those facts from the news and the history books. The only way we’ll survive is with the kind of unrelenting determination you have demonstrated, Candidate Killian.”

  Killian let his military composure relax a bit. “Commander, what about Tucker?”

  Commander Connor responded gravely, “Unfortunately, mission accidents do happen. We try to minimize the risks, but there is always the odd chance of a tragic occurrence.”

  “What about the burned-out shuttle?” Kerrington called out.

  “That shuttle crashed nearly four years ago. We lost a pilot, a crewman, and a gunnery sergeant. Before each mission cycle, we go down and fire it up so that it looks like a fresh crash site. This is meant to test your self-possession when the prospect of rescue seems lost. The shuttle that brought you to the planet surface does, in fact, stay there in case of emergency.”

  “Who were the people in the mine?” Dohrn asked.

  “Don’t worry, candidates. Rest assured, no inhabitants exist on the planet. The people you saw were crewmembers from Blue Orchid. They were also the ones who made off with your supplies.”

  She paused.

  “The program is meant to be difficult and frustrating. We try to make you fail. Other candidate classes usually get as far as the inhabitants and often get bogged down in negotiations. Even the capture of a candidate and the explosives are scripted.

  “The device you carried was a mock-up. We’ve positioned live explosives near the mine that won’t do any harm to personnel or structures.

  “Candidate Killian, it is my honor to welcome you to Black Saber. Despite several setbacks, including banishment from the team, you demonstrated exceptional fortitude and resilience. The fact you succeeded is remarkable. This is exactly what is needed in Black Saber.

  “In the life of this program, only one other candidate has ever successfully detonated the charges.”

  She stepped forward and locked her gaze on Killian.

  Too low for the others to hear, she said, “His identity is classified, Candidate Killian, but you know him.”

  Killian gave her a bewildered look.

  Risky? Doc?

  Suddenly, he realized. “My brother?” he whispered.

  Commander Connor gave a subtle nod and rare grin.

  Killian sucked in his breath and tried to control his trembling body. Tears welled up in his eyes and dripped down his face.

  “Again, that’s classified,” she said, from barely parted lips. “Until any failed candidates have been dismissed, I trust you to keep a lid on it.”

  “But what about all the people I’ve killed?”

  She nodded. “Who do you think found you in Thailand?”

  Killian’s soul had been bared.

  He had nothing left to hide.

  It was…liberating.

  “You have been exceptional, Candidate Killian. I expect great things from you.”

  Killian struggled to regain composure.

  He was home.

  Commander Connor’s slight smile faded. “Master Sergeant Houlihan, see that Black Saber Operative-in-Training Killian gets proper medical attention.”

  “Aye aye, Commander.”

  “The rest of you, return your gear, shower up, and return to formation in your transport flight suits in one hour. Master Sergeant Houlihan will inform you of your performance scores.”

  She looked directly into Killian’s eyes and snapped a salute.

  Killian returned it.

  Connor turned right to rejoin Burdette.

  Killian called out, “Commander Connor
.”

  She stopped and turned.

  “Who was my sponsor?”

  She hesitated, eyes darting toward the others. “You certainly deserve to know. Your sponsor was former vice president Kerrington.”

  The candidates gasped.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Kerrington screeched.

  “I’m high on Veritas,” Connor replied. “Would I lie to you?”

  Epilogue

  It was night on the planet Carthogena. City lights in the distance illuminated the planet’s smog, creating a brownish-orange glow. No one had seen the stars for centuries.

  A Carthenogen guard sat by a fire that lit and warmed his remote post at the corner of two long stone walls. Since he weighed several hundred pounds, he didn’t like to stand or walk any more than he had to. His job was miserable—not that he’d ever had any pleasant ones.

  It was difficult for the guard to keep his almond-shaped eyes open at this late hour. He dozed off sporadically, despite continuous groaning within the walls.

  A howl rose up. “He’s dead! Oh, dear God. He’s dead!”

  Other voices yelped and groaned louder. Hands and arms reached out through holes in the wall and flailed about. Their desperate behavior wouldn’t accomplish anything, but they acted like that all the time.

  The guard didn’t bother to get up and beat their protruding arms. It was too much effort and would only make them wail louder. It was too much bother to turn, so he tilted his head back and shouted in the guttural Carthenogen dialect of his cast, “Shut up, you animals! I’m trying to sleep!”

  One of the young ones cried out, “I want to go home!”

  “I said shut up!”

  The jabbering animals couldn’t understand him, and they never shut up. They moaned and groaned continuously. At night, at least they slept, and it would be quieter, until one of them started yelping and set off the rest.

  Guarding livestock was a terrible job. The smell was horrendous. The guard shifted from side to side, then reached toward the fire. His job’s only blessing was the abundance of free food.