Op File Revenge (Call Sign Warlock Book 1)

by J. Clifton Slater

  Eiko’s arm shot out and jerked the Doctor out of sight.

  “Livina. Where is your tranquilizer gun?” asked Warlock as she slid a hand between her legs and gripped the edge of the vent. “Come in Doctor.”

  “Let’s clear up the confusion,” Eiko proposed. “There was a misunderstanding. You are free to leave. It’s why I’m here.”

  “In my imaginary Striker training, the ghost instructors taught us to trust our first instincts,” explained Warlock. “My first thought is trap. Of course, Doctor Everhard may have a different interpretation of my memories.”

  “Let me go in and drag her out,” a gruff voice said in frustration. “She’s unarmed and really, she’s a girl.”

  “Be my guest,” Eiko invited the big Sailor. “But, you should know that Master Sergeant Alberich is an instructor in hand to hand combat. As far as being unarmed, would you care to bet on it?”

  From down the hallway, reports from two kinetic pistols pinged against the bulkhead of a corridor.

  “What’s going on Special Agent?” asked Warlock.

  “About forty plus insurgents crashed the flight deck,” Eiko reported. “The Marines are out of position because they were spread out to monitor decks during the operation. They’ve stopped the bad guys coming up from level three, for now. But the Marines are out gunned and getting chewed up in the stairwells.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Warlock asked.

  “Either that or I missed your pleasing personality,” replied Eiko.

  One second Livina stood relaxed beside the Special Agent. The next, Doctor Everhard was pulled back against the opposite wall. A sharp object pressed into the side of her neck as Diosa used the Doctor as a shield.

  “On the level?” asked Warlock peeking out from behind the tall woman.

  “What? That we need your Striker skills or that I miss you?” questioned Eiko.

  “Special Agent, you are a particular kind of irritating,” Warlock stated as she released the Doctor. “I apologize for the rough treatment, ma’am.”

  Livina stepped away from the Striker and rubbed the sore spot on her neck.

  “Do they have a specific target?” Warlock asked Eiko as she walked by and placed something into the hands of an orderly. “What’s our weapon status?”

  The orderly looked down to find a sharp-edged air vent in his hands. His thump plucked at the deadly point.

  “You’d have lost the bet, Sailor,” Eiko observed as he raced after Diosa. “She was armed.”

  ***

  Warlock pushed open a door to find herself in the clinic’s reception area. A glance behind the door showed her it was the built to sit flush with the bulkhead door. She turned from the door and took in the scene.

  The overturned reception desk and the two Marines targeting the doorway let her know the poor state of their fire power. In one of the offices, two Doctors worked on two wounded Marines, letting her know the weak state of her available forces.

  “What’s the target environment?” she demanded as she crossed the reception area heading for the Doctors and the wounded. Warlock began unbuttoning her trousers. When she didn’t get an answer, she shouted. “Did I mumble? What is the target environment, Marines?”

  A Master Sergeant had appeared from a doorway behind the Marines at the desk. She was barefooted and stripping off her trousers. The absurdity of the situation momentarily confused them. Then, the familiar bark of an NCO got their minds right.

  “Three insurgents down on the left end of the passageway,” one Marine responded. “Four to the right, Master Sergeant.”

  Warlock kicked off the green uniform trousers as she walked into the office.

  “Those utilities, take them off. He won’t be needing them,” she directed one of the Doctors. Turning to the other, she ordered. “Her boots. Remove them. Quickly people.”

  The Doctors’ eyes glazed over. A woman who had been committed as possibly suffering from schizophrenia stood undressing in the doorway of the office.

  “The shirt and trousers. The boots. Come on Doctors, have you never taken a trauma class,” Warlock said as she pointed out the scars on her leg, hip, upper arm and shoulder. “Give me the clothing, and I’ll let you see my back.”

  Eiko and Livina rushed into the room and began helping to undress the wounded.

  “You don’t expect me to fight in my duty uniform. Do you realize how hard it was to iron those creases and get them just right?” Warlock answered as if someone had asked.

  But the calm voice and the trivial explanation gave the Doctors something to ponder as they stripped the wounded Marines. Soon the boots came free and they were tossed to Diosa. She waited until the battle utilities were handed to her. Then she turned her back. And the Doctors stared. Whether it was the muscles rippling in an unlady like manner or the scars from numerous wounds, didn’t matter to Warlock. She talked to the Marines as she dressed.

  “Who stuck their head out to count the bad guys?” she asked.

  One of the Marines raised his hand.

  “Good, you’re my six,” Warlock stated as she squatted down to lace the combat boots. “What’s you’re magazine count?”

  “We were only issued a barracks loadout, Master Sergeant,” the other replied. “We each have two left.”

  “That should be enough,” Warlock assured them as she turned and marched into the room. Grabbing a belt and holster, she strapped it around her waist. Then she pulled the other pistol from its holster along with three electronic magazines.

  As she walked back to the Marines, she strapped a Galactic Council Marine Corps rebreather to her hip. Then, Warlock dropped a magazine from one of the pistols and seated a fully charged one.

  “When I say go, Six, you will count one, two and then cover my back,” instructed Warlock. “I’ll take the right side of the corridor. At exactly two seconds and before the insurgents on the left can target me, you will kill them. Clear?”

  “Shouldn’t we go together and cover each other’s backs?” asked the Marine.

  “Not this time and not with these,” Warlock informed him while holding up the impressive hand cannons. “Pistol against rifle is ugly. Do it my way this time. Next time, we’ll go together. Ready?”

  “On the count of two, Master Sergeant,” the Marine assured her.

  They moved to the entrance of the clinic. Warlock stood on the right-hand side with the Marine on the left.

  “Standby to begin your count,” she warned as she turned her head feeling the faint sounds of four heartbeats down the corridor. After a minute of standing perfectly still, Warlock ordered. “Count!”

  ***

  Doctor Everhard stood in the doorway to her office. In the reception area, she watched the woman she judged insane take charge of a dangerous situation. Each order, every word and movement precise and appropriate. In an ordered environment such as Command Station, Diosa seemed maladjusted and out of place. Now, with insurgents killing and maiming civilians, Sailors and Marines, Master Sergeant Alberich oozed confidence which, in a terrifying way, was the correct response.

  Diosa stepped out of the protection of the clinic’s entrance and into the bullets. Doctor Everhard almost changed her mind about the sanity of the Striker. With two pistols pinging rounds at the unseen enemy, Warlock appeared to move in slow motion. Suddenly, she put on a burst of speed and ran up the bulkhead for two quick steps.

  A motion caught Livina’s eye as the Marine charged out, firing to the left. By the time she refocused on Warlock, the Striker was flipping off the wall. In the midst of the backflip, both pistols continued to fire down range. Warlock landed with her knees bent, spun around and leaped beside the Marine. Together they pumped round after round from their pistols.

  “I’m dry, Master Sergeant,” announced the Marine.

  “Not for long,” replied Diosa before she jogged out of view.

  Doctor Everhard’s chest hurt and she realized she hadn’t taken a breath during the entire assault. She i
nhaled deeply and by the time Livina exhaled, Warlock returned carrying three rifles with ammo belts.

  As if she’d come from the mess deck with treats, Warlock handed a weapon to each Marine before tossing the last one across the reception area to Eiko.

  “Do you know how to use that, Special Agent,” Diosa inquired with a smirk.

  “Let me see, the pointy end goes towards the bad guys and I pull the trigger to make it go boom?” Eiko teased as he expertly dropped the magazine into his hand, inspected the load, and reinserted it into the rifle. “I can hit what I aim at.”

  “Special Agent, you are some kind of irritating,” declared Warlock.

  The Master Sergeant handed her extra pistol to one of the orderly before rushing out of the entrance. Moments later she returned with four additional rifles. She handed three to the orderlies before requesting.

  “Tape? I need tape from the first aid kit,” she said.

  A Doctor held up a roll. Snatching the tape, Warlock put to two magazines together then spun one one-hundred-eighty degrees. With insertable ends clear to fit in the rifle housing, she taped them together. After slamming the double magazine into the rifle and chambering a round, she looked around.

  “One orderly stays here to secure the location,” she instructed. “Eiko. One Marine and the orderlies are with you. Six, you’re with me.”

  “Master Sergeant Alberich. Don’t you think you should divide our forces equally?” inquired the Special Agent.

  Warlock looked him in his eyes before cocking her head to the side as if viewing a curious specimen. After a second or two under the glare, Eiko raised his empty hand and the hand holding the rifle in surrender.

  “Irritating,” commented Warlock before turning to her Marine. “Six, what’s your name?”

  “Lance Corporal Keano, Master Sergeant,” the Marines answered. “My squad calls me The Cool.”

  “They do? Well, Lance Corporal Keano, for this op, you are Six,” instructed Warlock. “And that’s just where you’ll be. Not beside or in front of me. At my back at all times. Got that, Six?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Six replied.

  Warlock raised her hand with the fingers together, pointed them at Eiko, and then to the left side of the corridor. Without another word, she led Six out of the Mental Health Clinic and into the passageway.

  ***

  They had to step around the four dead insurgents to reach the hatch.

  “There is something wrong with this assault,” Warlock commented as she reached for the locking wheel.

  “What’s that, Master Sergeant?” Keano asked.

  “Call me Warlock. It’ll save words. They left too many guards on this deck,” Diosa explained. “Command Station is big. Why waste seven bodies to hold one section of deck? If they have this many on the other approaches to five, it tells us they’re close to their target. The Command staff starts at deck two hundred. If they wanted to kill Admirals and Generals, they’d have sprinted to the top. What vital deck is close to five?”

  Lance Corporal Keano screwed up his face in thought before snapping his fingers.

  “The Remote Surgeons and the projection operating rooms,” stated Six. “They’re on deck seven.”

  “Without those surgeons, a lot of Sailors and Marines will die of their injuries,” declared Warlock. “We’ll have a tough fight to reach deck seven.”

  “There is a private elevator connecting six, seven and eight,” the Lance Corporal informed her. “Its for the Doctors so they can move from their offices to the surgery deck and down to the hospital wards. If we reach that, we’ll only be one deck below the Remote Surgery area.”

  “Six. We’ll be moving fast. Sprint when I sprint. Stop when I stop. And watch my back. Semper Fi.”

  “Semper Fi,” Six confirmed as Warlock spun the wheel lock and pulled open the hatch.

  Chapter – 19 Just Another Day in the Salt Mines

  Across the corridor surrounding deck five, the stairwell was shrouded in haze. The noxious sulfur and potassium nitrate fog hung over the landing and followed the up and down steps. Without being told, Warlock and Six slipped on their rebreather masks.

  While Six’s vision was limited to a cloudy outline of the Master Sergeant’s back, she rotated her head examining the scattered light and searching for images. When Warlock rushed to the top of the down staircase, Six moved with her. It caught him by surprise when she fired three shots followed by two more controlled set down the stairs.

  “That should help the Marines,” Warlock whispered as she moved by Six and started up the steps.

  A quick glance back and he could only see the haze from the gunpowder. There wasn’t much air flow in stairwells. People on Stations carried rebreathers for low air flow zones like these. Now, with chemically ignited bullets issuing smoke after each discharged round, the secondary air handling units were completely overwhelmed. Lance Corporal Keano snapped his head around and followed Warlock up the stairs.

  They moved steadily up and Six kept his head on a swivel. He’d just looked forward after studying their rear for hostiles when Warlock stopped.

  She reached back and manually aimed his rifle barrel to the left.

  “That’s your target area,” Warlock whispered. “Don’t shoot me. Ready? Charge!”

  And before Lance Corporal Keano moved, the Striker jumped on the handrail and ran up the narrow banister. In four steps, he caught up with the shadow of her back. Then, shapes appeared across the landing for deck six. He squeezed the trigger and bullets hit the shape on the far left. It took seven shots before the insurgent collapsed. If this was a rifle range and well lit, he could have downed the target with a tight three round group. As it was, he needed seven bullets to pierce the brown body armor.

  While Keano fired and closed with the hostiles, Warlock let her rifle hang from the sling and pulled the pistol. At the edge of the handrail, she leaped onto the shoulders of an insurgent. The man rocked forward and the Master Sergeant dropped her arm to the right and doubled tapped the temple of the man next to them. With a squeeze of her thighs, she rode the mounted man to the deck. He received a smack to the back of his head from the pistol before Warlock summersaulted forward. Coming to her feet, she turned and unloaded the rest of the kinetic rounds into the hostile on the far right.

  Lance Corporal Keano feared shooting in Warlock’s direction. Screaming a challenge, he sprinted up the stairs at the last standing insurgent. Almost in slow motion, the soldier of the Empress brought the barrel of his rifle around. Keano estimated that he would arrive just as the front sight aligned with his chest. Despite the futility of the charge, the Marine pounded up the steps.

  Warlock’s palm came up and grabbed the barrel of her rifle. With no time to reach the trigger, she shoved the weapon backwards, jumped, and pirouetted across the landing. The buttstock whipped around and caught the shoulder of the insurgent aiming at the Lance Corporal. Blindsided by the impact, the soldier flew into the closed hatch. As he attempted to recover, Warlock thrust her rifle into his ribs and fired three times.

  “Six. He’s still breathing,” Warlock said indicating the insurgent she’d ridden to the deck. “Stop that.”

  A tight group of three bullets from the Marine’s weapon ended the life of the last insurgent guarding the entrance to deck six.

  “That was amazing,” gasped Keano. “Master Sergeant, you jumped on them and kicked their butts.”

  “Just another day in the salt mines for a Striker,” Warlock responded as she reached for the hatch’s locking wheel. “Six. Are you ready for some more work?”

  “Yes ma’am,” he responded as he dropped a magazine and inserted a fresh one.

  From below, they heard an increase in the rate of bullets and rifle fired kinetic rounds. Finally, units had been organized and issued their combat gear. The soldiers of the Empress were about to have their one-way tickets punched by the Galactic Council Marine Corps.

  ***

  The wheel spun, the locking lu
gs slid back, and the hatch swung open. Lance Corporal Keano and Master Sergeant Alberich, with rifles blazing, stepped over the knee knocker. Two men in brown armor fell, then another. And finally, Keano had light and sight. His tight group tore through the brown armor sending the last hostile to deck.

  “You good Six?” asked Warlock while peering down the empty passageway.

  “Good to go, Master Sergeant,” Keano responded.

  Warlock stepped off and the Marine followed. From another entrance to the deck, rifles answered pistol and rifle fire. But the action appeared to be stagnant. Special Agent Eiko’s unit was bogged down in the stairwell. Keano wondered for a second if they would go and help. But Master Sergeant Alberich’s next query answered his question.

  “Where is the private elevator?” she asked.

  “Halfway through the hospital wards and near the sick call clinics,” described Keano. “Turn right at the next corridor.”

  He was surprised when the Master Sergeant pressed her shoulder against the right bulkhead as she walked down the passageway. Mimicking the odd approach, he also pressed his shoulder against the wall and followed.

  “One, two, three, four, we love the Marine Corps,” Warlock announced as they reached the intersection.

  “Advance and be recognized,” a voice from the other corridor called back.

  “Master Sergeant Alberich and Lance Corporal Keano, coming in,” she responded before sticking her head and one shoulder around the corridor.

  “Step forward,” ordered a Marine Sergeant holding a pistol aimed at Warlock’s head.

  “Our units are assaulting the stairwell,” Alberich advised. “We’ve cleared the right corridor but hostiles might retake it as they retreat. There are four rifles at the hatch and four more on the landing. If you want to up your fire power.”

  “That we do, Master Sergeant,” the Sergeant assured her as he waved a pistol around. “Will you be taking command here?”

  “No, Sergeant. I believe the hostiles are looking to take out the Surgeons and the Remote Operating Suites,” replied Warlock. “Lance Corporal Keano and I aren’t going to let that happen.”