Op File Revenge (Call Sign Warlock Book 1)

by J. Clifton Slater

  “Combat launch, combat launch,” Warrant Officer Metta announced as the gunship ripped away from the yacht. “Clean separation. Targeted landing bay in sight. Strikers, prepare for a slide.”

  “As if there was anything we could do about it,” grumbled Shepherd.

  “Relax big guy. At least you don’t have an elbow in your throat,” offered Dewi.

  “Sorry, Havoc,” the Earth Element apologized while trying to move his arm.

  Then, their breathing constricted, their brains reeled and their stomachs seemed to twist. The noise of alloy scraping against alloy from the gunship’s undercarriage let them know they were in a landing bay of the tramp steamer. Before the gunship came to a stop, the gravity normalized and the symptoms associated with shifting gravities vanished.

  “I’ve got Marines engaged on the left side of the landing bay,” Warrant Officer Metta reported. “Pressure is equalized. I’ll release the hatches on your command.”

  “Pop the hatches,” ordered Warlock. “Sky Elements, dismount first.”

  The hatches on both sides of the gunship flew back on their hinges. On her side, the hatch released the pressure on Warlock’s shoulder. She fell out and crashed on the deck. Someone stepped on her as they moved away from the gunship.

  “Contact, left,” reported High Moon as reports from weapons reached the rest of the Strikers.

  Warlock scrambled up beside the Sky Element. Three fireteams of Marines were firing from behind a stack of cargo crates. Beyond a shredded air curtain, rounds pounded the crates keeping the Marines pinned down.

  High Moon’s angle off to the side gave her a view of the enemy forces. Weapons and heads of enemy combatants poked out from behind barriers stretching down a wide corridor.

  “War Prince. Shepherd. Are you disembarked yet?” Warlock radioed to her Earth Elements without looking back.

  While Warlock, High Moon and Havoc easily fit through the gunship’s hatches, the Earth Elements required time to squeeze through the openings.

  “Clear and moving to your location,” Shepherd reported.

  Soon Warlock’s elements were staged beside their team leader. Switching to the Marine Corps net, she attempted to call the unit across the landing bay. But the Marine Corps’ scramblers and jammers were active and only radios original to the net worked. But the Marines had noticed the arrival of the Strikers and one waved a questioning signal. Warlock gave a cut your firing sign and indicated her team would move forward. She waited for the rifles to go silent.

  “Mount the hatch on this side to avoid direct fire,” instructed Warlock. “War Prince, wait on this side until I give the attack order. Alert!”

  The five Strikers raced to the side of the corridor’s frame. High Moon climbed the bulkhead followed by Havoc. While Havoc stopped at the top right corner, High Moon scrambled across the upper portion of the hatch to the left corner. Until that point, all of the Strikers were protected by the hatch’s frame.

  “Strikers, clear the corridor. Alert!” Warlock ordered as she stepped from behind the frame.

  ***

  The thirty pirates in the cargo corridor were pleased. They had units of Marines pinned down and the fight had become quick shots and ducking with neither side moving. It was fine with the pirates; their job was to keep the Galactic Council’s Marines from linking up with other units.

  A lone armored figure appeared in the center of the deck framed by the cargo hatch. It caught the pirates by surprise and when another raced behind the figure and turned at the other edge, they aimed their weapons at the two targets. Then, shoulders and heads appeared on the top corners of the frame and another big body stepped around the frame on the right side.

  Suddenly, the empty cargo hatch bristled with three rifles on the deck and two more seemingly held by gravity-defying people targeting them from the top corners of the frame.

  Kinetic rounds from the three rifles on the deck forced the pirates to duck behind their barriers. But it was no longer safe as the high angles from the rifles at the top of the hatch rained bullets down on the pirates. Then, the person in the center began dropping sonic grenades down on them.

  Undisciplined and loosely associated with no loyalty to each other, the pirates broke cover and ran. The five rifles around the cargo hatch made them pay for the hasty flight.

  ***

  Warlock shot a hand in the air and motioned to the Marines. They responded immediately. Fireteams quickly leaped frogged from the crates to the cargo hatch.

  “There’s a cross passageway at the end of the corridor,” Warlock informed a Marine Corporal. “We’ll clear one side and you take the other. Which side do you want?”

  “Our command post is to the left,” the Corporal replied. “We need to link up with our Lieutenant. The last report estimated over two hundred pirates were on the steamer. Our Lieutenant wants us to form up to meet the threat.”

  “How many Marines?” inquired Warlock.

  “We landed sixty-four but some of our teams are cut off,” the Corporal reported. “We were on the way to the bridge. There is a fireteam pinned down with a lot of the steamer’s crew. Before my units could advance on the objective, the corridor filled with pirates and we were ordered to withdraw to this landing bay.”

  “We’ll move to the bridge and secure the fireteam. Check with your Lieutenant,” suggested Warlock. “See if he wants you back at the CP. Or, if you should move with the Strikers?”

  “Our Lieutenant is a ma’am, ma’am,” the Corporal stated. “Standby. Four-Three to Four Actual. We’ve hooked up with a Strike Kill team and the team leader asked if we should accompany her team to the bridge.”

  While the Marine talked to his Lieutenant, Warlock spoke with the Strikers.

  “Clear the rest of the hostiles from the corridor but, hold at the passageway.”

  By the time the Corporal finished, the Earth and Sky Elements had reached the end of the cargo corridor. They met little resistance from the remaining pirates. One of the Sky Elements poked her head out of the corridor and quickly pulled it back.

  “The passageway is hot,” High Moon reported.

  “Understood. Hold your positions,” ordered Warlock. Then to the Marine asked, “What’s the verdict?”

  “We’re coming with you ma’am. Our fireteam near the bridge has radioed in they have one wounded,” he reported. Then the Corporal pointed towards the hatch. “If the passageway is hot, we have solutions.”

  “War Prince and Shepherd, lead the heavy weapons into the passageway,” Warlock instructed when Marines with pivotal machine guns slung from body harnesses stepped forward. “My Earth Elements wear extra armor. They’ll save your gunners from being shot in the back during the insertion.”

  “You heard the officer. Follow the Strikers,” the Corporal ordered.

  “I’m not an officer. I carry the rank of Master Sergeant, but for this operation, my call sign is Warlock,” Diosa explained as she and the Corporal stepped over and around the bodies of dead pirates. At the hatch to the passageway, she inquired, “Are we ready?”

  “Gunners, ready?” asked the Corporal.

  Two hands lifted from the trigger guards, gave their NCO a thumb’s up before regripping their weapons. War Prince and Shepherd also signaled affirmative as they turned and moved the gunners up close to them.

  “Stay three steps behind me,” stated War Prince to the Marine gunner. “Warlock, Alert!”

  “Go, go, go,” Warlock ordered.

  The two big Strikers walked through the hatch side by side. Once in the passageway, they pivoted in opposite directions and began firing at targets. Two rifles, no matter how well aimed, were barely an answer to the volume of firing from the pirates at the ends of the hallway. That changed, when from behind the Strikers, the muzzles of machine guns swung on target and filled the passageway with kinetic rounds.

  “Fireteams, back up your gunners,” the Corporal ordered when the rate of enemy fire lessened. Six Marines rushed into the corri
dor and flanked their machine gunners.

  The Strikers backed out of the line and rejoined Warlock in the cargo corridor.

  “The passageway is secure,” announced War Prince. “Do you think Striker command would approve a harnessed machine gun for me?”

  “Not unless they assign an ammo carrier,” Warlock replied. “This isn’t over yet, people. Sky Elements mount. Let’s get to the Bridge.”

  ***

  With the Strikers assaulting the passageways, and the Marines clearing rooms and compartments, the units fought their way to the trapped fireteam. They reached the three healthy Marines and the one wounded. As they approached the Marines in a section made from gutted yacht bridges, the incoming from the pirates changed. It came with such velocity the bulkheads were pitted with deep dents from every round. Two yacht bodies away, a solid bulkhead with slits protected the pirates from the Marines’ and Strikers’ rounds. But, not the forces of the Galactic Council from the pirate’s huge slugs.

  “That’s not standard kinetic ammo,” High Moon observed from the overhead.

  Warlock glanced at the circles and grooves in the hard alloy walls and shouted, “Dismount. Dismount.”

  As High Moon scrambled to adjust and crawl down the wall, she suddenly spun and tumbled to the deck. Seeing her uncoordinated fall and the Sky Element exposed to more of the devastating rounds, Warlock jumped from behind a rough-cut wall and raced towards her.

  Something smacked Warlock in the face and her head jerked halfway around. On her back, she noticed a crack on the right side of her faceplate along with rust on the overhead. Someone grabbed her ankles and dragged her backwards. The Marine gunners filled the air with rounds and the other rifles added their fire. All their ammo did was peel the rust off the wall protecting the pirates.

  “Havoc? Where is Dewi?” pleaded Warlock shaking off the hands inspecting her for injuries.

  “Radko has her across the aisle,” High Moon advised. “She took a ricochet that peeled off some armor. A little blood and some broken bones but she’s awake.”

  Warlock sat up and smiled when Havoc gave her a quick wave. The Sky Element’s shoulder and half her chest armor were ripped away.

  “What are they shooting?” Diosa asked the Marine Corporal.

  “Our kinetic sniper rounds are fifty-twos and these looks like them,” the Corporal responded holding up a smashed piece of alloy that could have once been a kinetic round. “We estimate they have ten long guns shooting through those firing slits in the bulkhead.”

  “They committed two hundred pirates to attack this piece of junk. Even if they took it, it’s so big, the Navy could easily track it down. If they can’t steal it, why attack it?” questioned Warlock. “And they chose a location near the bridge, with no access to a landing bay, to create a hard point. None of this makes sense.”

  “We came off the Tres el Fuerte. While in transit, the Heavy Cruiser was ordered to another sector,” the Corporal added. “Are the pirates here just to kill Marines and Strikers?”

  “What are your killed in action numbers?” inquired Warlock.

  “Five killed, that I know of, and twenty wounded,” the Marine replied.

  “Then I’d say the pirates are doing a poor job if all they wanted to do was kill Marines and Strikers,” concluded Warlock. “I’d like to know what the snipers are protecting.”

  Gurvan, the War Prince, ran from his position at the units’ rear and slide on his butt across the deck. He stopped next to the Striker team leader.

  “This old yacht and the one we passed through seem to be whole. I mean, the traders incorporated the complete vessel into the superstructure,” Gurvan explained. When Warlock tilted her head as if he were speaking in a language other than Realm, he stopped and thought for a second. “There is a lower deck on the yacht and probably a passageway to the next one.”

  “We can drop down and work our way under the snipers,” offered the Corporal.

  Warlock realized her thinking was muddled from the shock of the round that cracked her faceplate. Holding up a hand, she shook her head to clear the haze. After a full minute, she lowered the hand and announced.

  “Give me one fireteam,” she stated. “I’ll take my left side element and we’ll check out the theory.”

  “Shouldn’t we take all the units?” asked the Corporal.

  “No. Crowding almost twenty bodies into a narrow passageway is asking for a disaster,” replied Warlock. “My Strikers and I will take point. If we run into trouble, one fireteam should be enough to cover our withdrawal.”

  Warlock, High Moon, and War Prince scrambled back to the end yacht and used the captain’s bridge access ladder to drop to the lower deck. A fireteam of four Marines filed down behind them.

  ***

  Patrol boats and yachts used the same hull design. On the lower level, cabins lined one side of a hallway with the exterior bulkhead creating a wall on the other side. This hallway was isolated to the point of being air tight from the row of cabins and storage rooms on the other side of the yacht. In case of a breach to one side of the ship, the other section would hold its environment.

  “Two bodies per door,” ordered Warlock. “Kick the doors, check the cabins and move to the next one. We need to move fast but I don’t want any surprises. War Prince take point. High Moon will back you up. I’ll work with the Marines to clear the rooms.”

  “We could just seal the doors as we pass by,” offered High Moon suggesting a standard Striker tactic.

  “I would but there may be civilians in the rooms. We can’t leave them trapped. Who knows when we’ll have this monster of a ship cleared of hostiles?” Warlock informed her. “Move out.”

  The Marines kicked doors to find empty cabins on the first yacht. War Prince entered a rough cut and stepped into the adjacent yacht. Rounds slammed into his armor.

  “Gun up,” ordered Warlock and the gunner slipped in behind the Striker.

  The hallway became a one direction shooting gallery as the Marine unleased on the pirates. When the enemy fell silent, Warlock ordered her Strikers and the gunner to move to the next cut while she and three Marines continued kicking doors and clearing cabins.

  From the third cabin, high pitched screams greeted a pair of Marines as they stood on the threshold. Looking into the cabin, they saw ten small faces clustered in a corner peering at them.

  “Galactic Council Marine Corps,” one Marine announced. “You are safe now.”

  The green scale armor prevented them from actually feeling the small arms wrapped around their legs. But the smiles of relief on the children’s faces were obvious. As Marines, they were accustomed to fighting and throwing themselves into dangerous environments. This situation left them with a new feeling, joy.

  “Escort the children to the Corporal,” Warlock told the two grinning Marines. “And get them off your legs. It’s not tactically advisable.”

  “Yes ma’am,” they replied as they gently removed the arms from their legs and lined up the children between them.

  Once the convoy of large Marines and little marching people disappeared through the cut, Warlock signaled for War Prince to move into the next opening.

  ***

  They left the patrol boat hull and entered the large lower deck of the sloop section. Deck level hatches at the rear would be for access to the sloops cargo holds. Two ladders climbed to hatches high over their heads. Those hatches would be access to the next level where the snipers roosted. Above that deck was the Osamu Kaito’s main Bridge.

  “Spread out and cover all the hatches,” Warlock directed the Marines. “High Moon, give me a status on the overhead hatches.”

  “Alert,” responded the Sky Element as she ran to a bulkhead and began to climb.

  One of the Marines turned his head and gasped as the Striker reached the ceiling and moved away from the bulkhead.

  “Strikers have electrified cilia on their gloves,” the gunner explained noticing the puzzled look on her teammate’s face. �
�I wouldn’t want to try it but she does make it look easy.”

  Once on the ceiling, High Moon crossed quickly to the first hatch.

  “It’s sealed, Warlock. Spot welds on the corners,” she reported before scurrying like a spider to the next hatch. “This one is sealed as well.”

  Warlock stood on the deck looking up at the sealed hatches. Her mouth twisted in a sneer as she attempted to get her mind around the tactic of sealing in your team and leaving them no exit route. The pirate snipers above were trapped in a sealed box.

  “The next deck lines up with the level of the yachts,” ventured War Prince. “Let me blow a hatch and get in among the snipers. They can’t get a fix on me close up. And, I’d like to pay them back for shooting you and Havoc.”

  “Oh, we’re going up,” promised Warlock. “But I want a dual dynamic entry. We’ll burn the welds and lob grenades before you and I breach.”

  “What about me?” asked a disappointed High Moon. “Don’t I get to have any fun?”

  “Need I remind you that your armor is lighter than the Marines?” scolded her Earth Element. “Leave the heavy work to me. I’m sure you’ll have lots of pirates to play with before this operation is over.”

  “If you two are done, let’s get to the hatches,” suggested Warlock. Turning to the two remaining members of the fireteam, she called out. “Give me a rifleman to back me up. Moon, you back up your Earth.”

  After explaining what she needed from the Marine, Warlock stepped on the first rung.

  “War Prince, we have one shot at putting down those snipers,” she exclaimed as she took three more steps up the ladder. “We go in hard. No mercy.”

  “Alert, Warlock,” replied the big man as he quick stepped up the steep ladder.

  They affixed white phosphorus tabs to each of the welds. Two on each of the hatch’s hinges and placed three on the handle’s base. After running a line of ignitor cord to each tab, they looked at each other across the expanse.

  “Set here,” stated the big Striker.

  “Set here,” Warlock confirmed. “Ignite on five.”