The Super Olympian- Mystic Warrior

by Laer Carroll

  "But she's his boss. The boss of everybody. I'd feel...But she's not your boss. And you're friends."

  "Of course, I'll call. And I'll call you right back."

  "Oh, thank—! OK. OK. I'll get off the line now."

  The line went dead. Sasha looked at the phone, not seeing it. Katie was an experienced soldier's wife, and never one to get visibly upset about her husband's sometimes-dangerous life style. Or so Sasha thought. Maybe she was wrong and Katie was more high-strung than she had estimated.

  Or maybe Storm Cloud really was in trouble.

  Anna Prince picked up instantly.

  "Good morning. I'm in a meeting. Is this urgent?"

  "Perhaps. I just got a call from Storm Cloud's wife. She's afraid something has happened to him. And she can't get an answer from Bluebird."

  "This meeting is pretty important. But we can take a short break. I'll call you back."

  The line went dead. Sasha shook her head. No one was strong on good-bye chit-chat this morning.

  It was less than a minute when Anna Prince called back.

  "Katie is right. Storm Cloud's patrol was ambushed a few hours ago. Just before sundown. Three dead, one critical, Adrian and the leader missing, presumed captured."

  "God! What's being done?"

  "They lost the trail. It's dark there, so they have to wait for morning."

  "And by that time the trail will be cold. And the bandits may have interrogated and mutilated or wasted Adrian. God! If only I could..."

  "Use your psychic abilities?"

  "That's just the cover story. I actually—"

  "I know. You don't have to explain again. You really want to do something?"

  "Storm Cloud is practically family. I'd go through Hell and face Satan down for him."

  There was a chuckle on the other end of the line. "And probably waste his ass. OK. I'm putting you in charge of getting him back safe."

  "Me? Surely there are more qualified—"

  "If there are you find them and put them in charge. Or take charge of them. Use whatever resources you need. Anything. Are you willing?"

  "I am. Anything?"

  "Yes, anything. Go immediately to CampPendleton. A hypersonic transport will be waiting for you there. I suggest you plan on the way to Pendleton, make calls from your air car. Requisition what you need at Pendleton. Don't rush. But don't dawdle either. Now—"

  "Wait. I'd have more standing with some people if I'm one of Storm Cloud's clan. Can you authorize...April Storm Cloud to get Adrian?"

  "Is that makeup smudge proof that you used at the Halloween party to make you look like an Indian? And the hair dye?"

  "Yes." She had shapechanged the colors of her hair and skin that night at Lizzie's party, so of course her "makeup" was smudge proof.

  "Good. Now, I've got to get back to my meeting. Keep me in the loop. I'd hate for something permanent to happen to that old scoundrel. "

  "Bye—" But Anna Prince was off the phone.

  Almost an hour later Sasha Canaro was at CampPendleton piloting a bat plane up the rear ramp of a large sleek air transport. Once the plane was inside and securely locked down to the cargo-aircraft floor she used a helmet display to remotely pilot two other bat planes up the ramp to lock-down cradles on each side of the first bat plane.

  Sasha, in her identity of April Storm Cloud, double-checked the cargo master's check of the lock down, earning her a raised eyebrow from the woman. Then she picked up the small suitcase she had secured in the back seat of her primary bat plane and took it to the pressurized passenger compartment forward of the cargo area.

  She stowed the suitcase under the seat indicated by the passenger wrangler and strapped into the seat. Once there she fired up the computer built into the back of the passenger seat in front of her and reviewed her preparations a final time. She had about a minute to order on-board any last-minute items from the CampPendleton store-rooms.

  That minute lasted several slow-time minutes for her. To any watcher the lists and displays on her screen flashed onto and off the screen and scrolled lightning fast.

  Satisfied, she went to normal time and triggered the intercom by pressing a button beside the flat screen in front of her.

  "Captain, I am go for take-off."

  "Understood, Agent Storm Cloud. Lifting now."

  Sasha felt a slight increase of her weight in her back, buttocks, and the bottoms of her thighs as the transport lifted on its paramagnetic ground effect and then its down-thrusters. Then the weight went up and up as the craft accelerated, always below the local speed of sound. The passenger compartment visibly tilted and tilted some more. The transport was heading west and up in a steep arc.

  A quarter hour later the tilt began to slide toward levelness. The hypersonic transport was now at the edge of space, traveling at over 7000 miles per hour. It would be an hour before it approached the Philippines.

  Sasha was quite busy during that time, still working at the computer. She had updated Anna Prince and Katie Storm Cloud on her actions, Prince in rather more detail. She had also had Silvana make her excuses to her family and friends for the weekend plans she would have to skip out on.

  She was cramming information about the Philippines, especially the southern third of the island chain which was clustered around MindanaoIsland. That included a quick overview of the culture and history of the area and the geography, especially that around the area where the Bluebird Security forces were rooting out the insurgency which had grown up there in the last few years. And she read quite a bit about the insurgency.

  The Mindanao population was largely Christian, but there was a large Muslim population as well. The two had gotten on peacefully for several decades, aided by the fact that the area contained a patchwork quilt of tribes and ethnicities who participated in both religious groups and the several minority religions. But the violent insurgency was only a few years old, prompting various commentators to speculate that it was influenced by forces outside the Philippines, especially the Chinese Federation.

  With a quarter hour before landfall, as the transport began to tilt forward toward landing, Sasha called the Bluebird Security forward base where Storm Cloud had been visiting on an inspection.

  "Captain Ishbel, I'm April Storm Cloud. I believe you have received an order from HQ to give me all aid in retrieving Colonel Storm Cloud and Lieutenant Ramsay." Ramsay was the name of the squad leader who had gone missing with the Colonel.

  "Yes, I have. Aid consonant with the safety of the expeditionary force."

  "Of course. I'll be setting down at your base shortly. I'll want a verbal report of all you've found out so far, then an escort to the ambush site."

  "It will be 1:00 am or later when we're done with your briefing."

  "I understand. I'm bringing means of tracking the hostiles not dependent on daylight. Please prepare as I requested just now."

  "Roger that."

  She acknowledged his reply and signed off without waiting for a reply.

  Anna Prince's brusqueness must be rubbing off on her, she thought ruefully.

  "Agent Storm Cloud. Five minutes to hover at your destination."

  "Thank you, Captain."

  Sasha watched a video feed of the approach to the Bluebird Security base camp on the computer she had been using. It had a far perimeter with a high tough fence which she guessed was electrified. All bushes and trees had been cleared away for a half-mile beyond that. Radar and heat sensors would be watching even further out.

  There was a close perimeter, also high and presumably electrified. Inside it quick-fab buildings were scattered in a careful design which was arranged for defense against any force which had penetrated the other defenses. The area beyond the close perimeter and within it was lit by spot lights, bright against the dark night.

  The lit square camp rose up toward her until the air transport dropped to perhaps a thousand feet height. Then it stabilized.

  "We're at hover, Agent."

  "Thank you
, Captain. I'll enter the surveillance craft and notify when I'm ready to deploy."

  Sasha cleared the session memory of the work computer, powered it off, and plucked the data-transfer wafer from its slot. Stowing it away inside the black form-fitting high-altitude flight suit she wore, she released the seat belts, stood, and retrieved her suitcase. She followed the cargo sergeant who she met just outside the passenger area to the three bat planes, nodded to the woman, and climbed into her plane.

  Inside she strapped the suitcase back into the back seat, strapped herself into the front seat, and donned the helmet. Automatically a bat-plane control display lit and overlay the transparent face plate. She triggered the locks holding the three craft to the cargo deck and keyed on the hover fields of her three planes, set at the lowest levels.

  The sergeant, standing at an upright console nearby, gazed at her read outs, then gave Sasha a thumbs up, then a salute.

  Sasha returned the salute despite the fact that an agent was a civilian and not a military person.

  "Captain, I am unlocked and ready to exit."

  "Deploy. Good luck."

  In response Sasha nosed out of the cargo area. The deployment ramp was extended beyond the rear of the plane. At slow time she monitored the automatic eject sequence. There was a very slight dropping sensation as her bat plane slid beyond the ramp into clear air, but so slight perhaps only Sasha could have sensed it.

  "Clear 1, Captain. Now deploying 2. Now deploying 3."

  She switched communication channels. "Base camp, I am clear of the transport and ready to come down."

  "Roger that. Come on down to FunCity."

  Sasha chuckled and began a slow spiraling descent. When she was sure the automatic landing sequence was working exactly as it should she twisted to reach back to the suit case. She wanted the weapons carried within.

  On the ground in the center of the base campSasha slide the canopy back and replaced her bat-plane helmet with a battle helmet, also in black. She climbed over one of the missile-like nacelles which sandwiched her seat and dropped a few feet to the ground, not bothering to use the short ladder which had slid out of the bottom of the vehicle.

  When she turned around she nodded at the Captain who commanded the base camp. He saluted her, as did the sergeant on one side of him. She nodded a reply.

  "Welcome to Base Camp 374. Come this way please." The impossibly young-looking blond in mostly-green jungle camouflage turned to walk back the way he had come. Sasha lengthened her stride and was beside him in a moment. The sergeant took up position to the other side.

  "You seem ready for bear, Ma'am." The sturdy grey-haired sergeant glanced at her array of weaponry.

  A machine-pistol was strapped to each thigh and she wore a belt of hand-grenades. Over her shoulder rode an M5 carbine holstered on her back. A belly pack contained magazines for the carbine and the pistols.

  "Not sure I would want to wear explosives on my belly in case I got hit there."

  Sasha smiled thinly. "If they can see my belly I can see them. And they're dead."

  "Nice to be confident," the sergeant said. His tone was conversational, not confrontational.

  "Adrian Storm Cloud is my uncle. If I wasn't good enough to stay alive he would have never let me bear a weapon."

  About two dozen Bluebird soldiers were in the briefing room, all in the green and brown camouflage uniforms, perhaps a third of them women, all but a few fairly young. No one called the room to attention. The Captain apparently was not into spit-and-polish in the field.

  The Captain introduced Sasha (as April), his sergeant, executive officer, and the lieutenant who had headed the force which had investigated the ambush site. His name was Sataram, a deceptively frail looking man who might be from one of the local ethnicities.

  "I've practically memorized your report and maps of the local area, but those always leave something out. Anyone have anything to add?"

  Sataram spoke in a soft voice which was pure Southern US. "There were three trails leading away from the ambush site. That's standard for the insurgency. The trails quickly disappear in the heavy brush and you lose them, then they meet up somewhere."

  "I may be able to help with that," Sasha said. "I'm a Tracker. Some of those fantastic video stories about Altiplano Indian warriors actually have a grain of truth in them."

  Sataram gave a sketchy nod and continued.

  "The lieutenant heading the scouting expedition may have been wounded and not made it to the insurgency rendezvous. If you find him be careful about approaching him. They have a nasty habit of booby-trapping the dead and wounded. Usually with a grenade with the pin pulled. But sometimes with some other trick."

  Several of the soldiers around the table nodded their heads.

  Sasha looked around the table and waited a few moments for any other contributions. Then she cued up a diagram of the bat plane from her data stick.

  "With The Boss's permission I've temporarily attached three recon planes to this theatre. One of them may remain after the rescue mission but will be stationed at the rear base. I'll need three paramag pilots tonight. Be good boys and girls and one of you may be picked to transfer back to the rear base with all its many luxuries."

  There was laughter at that. From Storm Cloud she had heard several stories about how un-luxurious such bases were.

  The Captain pointed out two men and a woman who he said had much experience with paramagnetic vehicles. Sasha spoke to them.

  "See this folder here?" She placed a bright red arrow over the folder icon displayed on the big flat screen. That screen image was also echoed on the small screens at each position on the conference table.

  "You three, if the Captain agrees, go somewhere else and begin reviewing the material. I suggest you start with the See-This-Intro video. Pay most attention to the how-to-fly parts of the briefings. We'll only need you to fly tonight. While I'm here I'll handle all the surveillance equipment. Be ready in—twenty minutes. Every minute the trail gets colder and we get further from getting our people back safe.

  "No pressure, of course." She grinned at them and they grinned back. Then, at a nod from their captain, they got up and left the room.

  The remaining twenty minutes filled in a few items she and the soldiers needed to know. Then she stood up.

  "This is not a treat, boys and girls. In the field I wear little beyond weapons." With that she quickly removed her weapons, then her black atmospheric suit, boots, and helmet, then replaced the weapons. Under the suit she had worn only a sports bra and briefs. She was barefoot.

  "Begging your pardon, Agent," said the sergeant in a wry tone of voice. "But I've got to say this IS a treat."

  "Glad you think so. Because from now on I'm going be busting my ass and everyone else's to get my uncle and your man back."

  Then she enacted a little piece of theatre she had planned before leaving Pendleton. She removed two "lipsticks" of paint, one red and the other blue, from her flight suit. With them she drew three broad stripes on each cheek in blue and surrounded her eyes with red.

  "Let's go," she said, and quickly walked out, leaving the flight suit, boots, and battle helmet behind.

  At the bat planes she directed the female pilot to the front seat of her bat plane. The three pilots all had gotten M5 carbines after leaving the briefing room and wore their daily uniforms, all they needed for the low altitudes at which the bat planes would be flying.

  Inside her plane she did communication checks with the three planes and the two heavily armored and armed paramag attack craft which would escort her and the bat planes to the ambush site.

  "Captain, we seem all ready to go. Please call the Boss for me and brief her on the situation."

  Over her earphones she heard for the first time some hesitancy in the Captain's voice.

  "Me? Surely that's your job."

  "Now it's yours. May we go?"

  "Go. Kick ass."

  Kick ass! came over the phones from the expeditionary force soldier
s with Sasha and the five planes lifted into the night sky.

  The two escort planes led the way to the ambush site and stationed themselves on each side of it 5000 feet above it, passive and active surveillance systems active. The insurgency had early gotten their hands on surface-to-air missiles and used them. They had learned never to do that with Bluebird forces, however. They did not work, except to bring down a ferocious response on them.

  Sasha was glad of the protection of the attack craft. The bat planes were nearly invisible and very agile but paid for that with thin skins.

  Flying at 1000 feet for the several minutes to the site Sasha had insured the three pilots were capable of the simple tasks set them. As she had estimated, the tiny female pilot was the sharpest of the three but the other two were not dull by any means.

  At the same time she was using the surveillance systems in all three bat planes. This included launching four paramagnetic unmanned aerial vehicles. The UAVs were only a yard long but were packed with very sophisticated surveillance equipment. Their superbatteries were juiced up enough to let them stay up for almost two days.

  All the data captured was fed back to Sasha. She viewed displays of the data streams, which in tandem were being fed back to the forward and rear base camps. Every minute or two she received terse comments from those camps. She was very good at interpreting the data, but the people in the camps had been doing that for years and not even her magnificent mind could do as good a job.

  Approaching the ambush site she handed off control of the UAVs to the rear camp. She also had the two accompanying bat planes begin widening spirals to the left and right to gather more information than the spy satellites above them were able to deliver. Then she instructed her pilot to pass over the site and to one side at a hundred feet up, then loop back and return at twenty feet, slowing almost to a hover. At the right moment she warned the pilot that she was deplaning and slid back her part of the canopy enough to spring up and back. Time slowed to a crawl.

  As she had practiced in the advanced testing phase of the bat planes she pulled her legs up and clasped her arms around them at her knees. Then she straightened as she dropped and checked with her night sight turned up to greatest sensitivity that she was clear of any small obstacles on the ground. Seeing that she was she landed legs only a bit apart, flexed them deeply to absorb the worst of the impact, and straightened again, looking all around, her ears and nose hyper alert.