Op File Revenge (Call Sign Warlock Book 1)

by J. Clifton Slater

  The tech moved to work on the adjacent cube and Eiko called up a subset of the search terms. These critical phrases would go to his PID for immediate inspection and not sit on his computer waiting for him to get back from lunch. Almost as an afterthought, he added Alberich, Diosa and Warlock to the subset.

  “It’s all yours,” he announced as he pulled his suit jacket from the back of the chair and headed for the hatch.

  ***

  Captain Benigna sorted the list of his counterparts on the warships in the Dos sector. For the foreseeable future, he would be available for any legal advice required by the JAG lawyers with the Fleet. Some of the junior lawyers in the Command Station JAG office whispered complaints about the hours. Benigna didn’t.

  He remembered his time with the fleet. It was a different interpretation of the rules and regulations when the flight decks were launching war crafts, missiles were firing, the ship’s guns firing, and sick bay filling with wounded Sailors and Marines. Judgements wavered with each passing hour of stress and fear. A call from a Lieutenant from maintenance might be followed by a call from the ship’s Executive Officer. In all cases, the JAG lawyers with the Fleet were expected to have answers. His or her lifeline was the JAG office, Command Station. A quick call and they’d have fresh eyes on the problem. Captain Benigna remembered. So, he didn’t complain, he prepared.

  ‘Captain. Finished clearing Medical decks, unable to locate Alberich,’ the message on Benigna’s PID flashed. ‘Recon of her quarters, mess deck and hog slops are in order.’

  His Marine retrieval team couldn’t find Master Sergeant Alberich. Command Station was large. Roughly two hundred twenty-five decks, if you included the flight decks which took up an entire level. Even if she ate at a civilian restaurant, it was hard to disappear on a Station.

  ‘Update received,’ he typed back. ‘Continue mission.’

  ***

  Special Agent Eiko had a fork of chicken and yellow rice at mouth level when his PID buzzed. ‘Alberich’ came up highlighted. He shoved the chow into his mouth, rested the fork against the plate and thumbed up the communications. After reviewing the messages between the JAG officer and the Marine, he chewed and wondered how she could vanish on the Station. Realizing she couldn’t, he shoved in a cheek busting amount of food and stood. While chewing, he dumped the tray in the cleaning disposal and headed back towards the main communications hub.

  ***

  When Master Sergeant Alberich’s PID didn’t show it was in service, Eiko isolated prior messages. It took about fifteen seconds. Rolling back to when she first arrived at Command Station, he reviewed the change from ship board rebreather to one issued by the Station, her housing order and the message from Admiral Enrico. Then, he received a missing data notice. Setting his program for a deep dive into the Station’s computer, Special Agent Eiko began to check the messages that arrived while he was at lunch.

  Chapter – 18 Cutting the Supply Line

  Lieutenant Ísak strolled the Bridge of the Light Cruiser. For the remainder of second watch, he was the acting Captain. Helm was his, navigation was his, and the men and women down in Combat Control all answered to him. In his mind, he commanded the warship in various naval battles. The other members of the Bridge crew were unware the Lieutenant, with the vivid imagination, was fighting the Light Cruiser, Margrjet Arna, across the Galactic Council Realm in a wargame going on in his head.

  Below the Bridge, Combat Control launched another pair of Bricks, a flight of Fighters and six Gunships. As soon as the vessels were launched, Combat Control began recovering matching sets of BattlePlatforms, Fighters and Gunships. Flight operations continued around the watches as the Pearl Eagle orbited Command Station and overlapped her defensive screen around the Station.

  Orbiting on the other side of Command Station, another Light Cruiser, the Heidy Wiebe, also launched and recovered. Both warships had been operating as security for the Station around the watches for five weeks. The crews and pilots were exhausted.

  Word had come down from Command that the Fleet in Dos sector was preparing to engage the Constabulary Fleet. All department heads, Captains, and Executive Officers of the Light Cruisers were gathered for a video conference with an Admiral to discuss the operation. The conference was the reason Lieutenant Ísak prowled the Bridge as if he was a dashing Captain of an ancient wooden man-o-war.

  Two yellow comets streaking from the direction of the Galactic Divide appeared on the screens in both Combat Control Centers. They both alerted the Lieutenants on the Bridges. Neither Center bothered to alert the Captains or XOs for what was possibly two resupply Sloops heading for Command Station.

  The Bridge stander on the Heidy Wiebe took his Combat Controls’ recommendation. Ísak didn’t.

  “Helm bring us on a heading towards the threat,” Ísak ordered then, ship wide, he announced. “Battle stations. Battle stations.”

  “Lieutenant, you want me to break orbit?” asked the helmsman.

  “Head on with the threat. Or I’ll replace you with someone who knows how to follow orders,” Ísak warned.

  “Yes sir. Breaking orbit and bringing us around to face the threat,” replied the helmsman.

  “Combat Control, combat launch everything you can,” Ísak instructed. “We’ve changed heading so your launch tubes cannot be directly targeted.”

  “Bridge. Are you sure?” questioned a voice.

  “If I don’t see launches in the next fifteen seconds,” growled Ísak. “I’ll come down there and launch them myself. And get the guns on target.”

  “Combat launching now, Bridge.” The voice called back. “Guns are coming on line as they are manned.”

  “Give me something on the screen,” instructed Ísak.

  “Images coming on the main screen,” responded communications.

  On the screen, the yellow ions were clearing from two large vessels. On side screens, Bricks, Fighters and Gunships poured from the Margrjet Arna’s aft flanks.

  “Margrjet Arna, have you gone to battle stations?” asked the Lieutenant on the Heidy Wiebe.

  Ísak had forgotten to notify the other Light Cruiser and Command Station.

  “To all Galactic Council Navy ships and Stations, this is the Light Cruiser, Margrjet Arna. We have gone to battle stations and, started a combat launch,” he broadcasted.

  On the main screen, the yellow Ions cleared. Two vessels of a type nobody recognized appeared.

  “Forward missile batteries, arm three and six, standby for launch authorization,” Ísak instructed before switching to a hailing frequency. “Unidentified vessels. You are entering restricted space. Identify yourself or be fired upon.”

  Suddenly the side hatch burst open and his Captain and Executive Officer stormed onto the Bridge.

  “Lieutenant Ísak. What are you doing with my ship,” demanded the Captain.

  Before the Lieutenant could defend his actions, Combat Control announced, “We have missiles launched. I say again, the unidentified ships have launched missiles. Standby damage control.”

  “What have you prepared, Ísak?” inquired the Captain knowing that he had been out of the command loop.

  “Batteries three and six, launch. Two and five standby,” Ísak ordered. “Guns, you have incoming missiles. Don’t let them scratch the paint on our ship.”

  “All forward guns are up and active,” a Marines Corps Captain reported. “Suppression fire beginning now.”

  Under their feet, the Bridge crew felt the deck vibrate from the missile launches and the rattling of the guns.

  “Combat Control. What is coming at us?” Ísak asked.

  “We have six incoming missiles,” Combat Control reported. “Four are going wide. Two detonated early from our guns.”

  “Batteries two and five. Put them right down the enemy ship’s throat. Launch,” Ísak said with a grin.

  “Two and five are targeted, locked on his nose, and away, sir.”

  “Bridge. Reporting critical damage to the Heid
y Wiebe,” Combat Control said. “Seven missiles caught her broadside. The Heidy is abandoning ship.”

  Lieutenant Ísak shook his head as if awakening from a dream. Meekly, he stripped off the headset and handed them to the Captain.

  “The Captain has the Bridge,” Ísak stated as he backed away. His battle station was three decks down in supply. “Permission to leave the Bridge, Captain?”

  “Denied. Stand here by me, Lieutenant Ísak,” instructed the Captain. “We still have two aggressors in our space.”

  “Missiles six, two, and five scored direct hits,” Combat Control reported. “The targeted ship is breaking up.”

  “Where is the second aggressor?” inquired the Captain.

  “Sir, our BattlePlatforms swarmed him as he closed with Command Station. He made one pass and vacated the area,” Combat Control announced. “Recommend, we set a double defensive screen to secure the rescue sight. On your word, sir.”

  “Set the screen. Helm, bring us back into orbit and set an intercept course for the wreckage of the Heidy Wiebe,” the Captain ordered before he turned to Ísak. “You saved our ship Lieutenant. How did you know?”

  “Captain. I reacted because there were only two courses open to me,” replied Ísak. “We maintain course and normal operations. Or we turn into a possible enemy and prepare to fight. I was lucky.”

  “I’ll take luck like that any day,” boasted the Captain.

  ***

  The attack cost the Galactic Council Navy a Light Cruiser and created a hero. For the Constabulary Navy, the surprise attack cost them one warship and half an assault force. The other half dropped from their warship in Patrol Boats disguised as Galactic Council Navy boats. The three Constabulary Patrol Boats mingled with the BattlePlatforms, Fighters, Gunships and rescue Patrol Boats.

  Two hours later, just as the Navy began to relax and finished rescuing the last of the survivors, the three Patrol boats dove for an intake tube on Command Station. Ignoring the Controllers calls for permission to land, they entered a tube and didn’t power down until they smashed into docked Navy vessels.

  It was obvious, the Patrol Boats and their passengers had one-way tickets. Then, the hatches opened and forty-five soldiers of the Empress, dressed in brown body armor, rushed from the boats.

  The flight controller threw his body from his chair to avoid the shattered glass from his tower windows and the bullets. As he fell, the jack on his headset pulled free of the plug. His inability to warn the Marine security detachment combined with their posting two guards at the access points to all critical areas, delayed the Corps response. When the Controller finally crawled to the panel and plugged in, the Empress’ soldiers were off the flight deck and heading up the stairs.

  ***

  “Command Station has a security breach,” the Navy Captain in charge of the communications’ hub announced. "Be advised, we are locking down the hatches.”

  Special Agent Eiko typed two commands before standing and racing to a partially closed hatch. One was to send Master Sergeant Alberich’s recovered messages to his PID and the other to shut down his program. In his view, physical threats took precedence over cyber threats.

  He glanced at his PID to confirm his destination and raced for the stairs. Joining him on the downward run were pairs of Marines. Unfortunately, the Marines assigned to hall monitor duty only carried side arms and wore utilities. While the unarmored and outgunned Marines continued towards the battle on the third level, Eiko hammered aside the hatch on the fifth deck.

  At room five zero six, the Special Agent shoved open the door and peered inside. Three Doctors and four large Sailors were crowded in an interior office.

  ***

  Warlock woke in a white room. Her eye goggle gone as well as her belt and shoes. Shaking her head to clear the effects of the tranquilizer darts, she pulled her legs into a Lotus position. Closing her eyes, she began deep breathing exercises. Striker training taught the best way to clear a drug from your system was to relax and allow the body to process the chemicals.

  An hour of deep breathing and meditating later, she fell forward and crawled to the doorway. The thick padding covering the walls, ceiling, and deck also padded the door. Peeling back the padding, she noticed the hinges were located outside the door. Good prisoner retention practice, she thought. Then, she listened carefully. High above, air flowed from a vent.

  Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich pushed to her feet and shook out her limbs. Once she was limber, the Striker ran at a corner of the cell, placed a foot at waist level and launched herself up and out. At an area near the vent, she crushed the padding between her fingers. Letting go with one hand, she peeled back the padding as she hung from the other arm.

  The vent shaft was too narrow to allow a person to crawl through. But the two screws holding the vent were loose. Every screw on a Station loosened over time from constant vibration. Using a fingernail, Warlock unscrewed the vent and let it drop to the deck. Releasing her grip, the Striker followed the piece of alloy to the floor of the cell. Now, she had a weapon.

  Escape and evasion preached rapid action before the guards or the prisoner fell into a routine. But a tray of food and three small paper cups of water appeared through the padding at the bottom of the door.

  Another practice taught was to eat anything, no matter how disgusting, to maintain your strength. Fortunately, the chew on the paper tray while soft and heavy on starch, smelled delicious. Warlock pulled the tray onto her lap and began to eat and sip the water.

  ‘I could escape by calling a guard and disabling him,’ she thought as she slid the vent behind her back to hide it. ’But where would I go? It’s difficult to hide on a Station. Plus, I have no backup.’

  Deciding to wait for a plan to form in her mind, she ate and searched for sound waves. Other than the whine of a far-off air handling unit, the cell was sound proof.

  ***

  Eiko jumped through the clinic’s entrance and quick marched to the interior office.

  “Everyone is ordered to shelter in place,” a tall Doctor with piercing blue eyes and a strong jawline stated. “You are welcome to join us.”

  “I’m not sheltering, Doctor. I’m searching for someone, a Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich,” Eiko explained. “According to her schedule, she had an appointment at this clinic, this morning.”

  “I’m sorry but I have no idea to whom you are referring,” Doctor Everhard replied. “Perhaps, she’s sheltering on a different deck.”

  “And perhaps she turned off her PID and is hiding in a cargo crate. But I don’t think so,” Eiko said as he stepped towards the Doctor.

  Two Doctors stepped back while two of the large orderlies closed in to block him from reaching the woman. A hand grabbed for his arm. He caught the man’s wrist and bent it backwards. When another Sailor lunged for him, Eiko kicked him in the knee. Both fell to the deck holding their damaged body parts.

  Suddenly, the man in the suit vaulted the two orderlies blocking access to the woman Doctor. He snatched the tranquilizer gun from her hand just before he crashed into her. While she ended up flat on her back, he rolled forward coming up on his feet armed with the gun.

  “Is this what you used on Master Sergeant Alberich?” he guessed. “I can’t imagine one dart would take down a Striker. Two or three maybe, if Warlock wasn’t coming at you. From the lack of marks on your neck, I’ll assume she was attempting to reach the exit.”

  But Doctor Livina Everhard stopped listening at the mention the word Striker.

  “Master Sergeant Alberich is a Striker?” she gasped.

  “Her call sign is Warlock. And she’s more than a Striker. Alberich is the most decorated Team Leader in Strike-Kill command,” related Eiko as he waved the tranquilizer gun around. “And Command Station is under attack. Unless you plan to use this in a firefight, I suggest you tell me about your last meeting with the Master Sergeant.”

  Before Livina could respond, shooting from the corridor reverberated off the walls of t
he clinic. Four Marines fell through the entrance. Two climbed to their feet and faced the door with pistols drawn. The other two lay bleeding on the deck.

  “You’re Doctors. Help them,” ordered Eiko.

  Two of the Doctors ran towards the wounded Marines as one exclaimed, “All we have are first aid kits.’

  “Now you know what Navy Corpsmen face,” Eiko replied while grinding his teeth together. His body jerked as if to prevent him from rushing to help the wounded Marines.

  “You were a Navy Corpsman?” ventured Livina.

  “A long time ago, Doctor,” offered Eiko. “Now! Tell me about Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich.”

  ***

  Warlock relaxed knowing she could escape as soon as someone came through the door. With nowhere to be and no one to see, she reclined with her hands behind her head listening to the air handling system. Then, the unmistakable burst of automatic weapons and the ping of kinetic pistols echoed through the system. Pistols against gas cycled rifles spelled disaster and she came to her feet. Stalking back and forth in the cell, she clinched her fists as her impatience to get into the fight built to a maddening level.

  A lock turned on the door and she stopped pacing. But she didn’t crouch as if to pounce. Instead, she backed a respectful distance from the door and stuffed the vent between her legs so it didn’t show. With her hands held at shoulder height, she smiled and waited for the door to open.

  The door slowly opened, being pulled by the fingers of a hand. The owner stood out of the doorframe and called to her.

  “Warlock. Friendly coming in,” Eiko announced.

  “Don’t stand on ceremony, Special Agent, come in,” urged Master Sergeant Alberich in a syrupy sweet voice.

  Hearing the tone in the Striker’s invitation, he hesitated.

  “Better yet, you come out here,” suggest Eiko.

  “How many friends have you brought with you?” Warlock inquired. While her voice was relaxed, she began to bounce on her toes and flex her thigh muscles.

  “Oh, this is ridiculous,” Livina Everhard complained as she stepped into the doorframe.