by TR Cameron
Chapter Six
Jax followed Lorenzo as quickly as possible, but she was already a dozen yards ahead by the time he made it through the door. Her brisk strides ate up the ground. They headed away from the side of the installation where the shuttles landed and toward the warehouses and other assorted necessary buildings.
She waved her hand at the panel on one of the storage structures and motioned him inside. He walked into the dark, and she slipped in behind him and closed the door. What the actual hell? She shoved him toward the corner, and his eyes adjusted enough along the way that he spotted Special Forces crates at their destination.
Lorenzo hissed, “You need to get into your drop suit. A ghost came down on the last shuttle, disguised as a normal troop. Stephenson left word to put you in hiding right quick if one showed up.”
“Damn.” The more appropriate and more vulgar curses stayed in his head where only Athena could hear them. “What about the prisoner?” He knelt to unlatch the crate marked with the icon for drop gear.
“Already gone. It’s like the Major is psychic or something. After you two finished your interview, she took the woman straight up to the Cronus for safekeeping. Didn’t explain why, but it seems pretty obvious now.”
Jax nodded as he pulled on the suit over his uniform. “She knows way more than she ever shows. You only have to play poker with her once to know that.” He sat on the crate to pull on his boots, then stood and strapped on his equipment belt and holster. “What’s the plan?”
Lorenzo had been staring down at her comm the whole time. “We have eyes on him. So far he’s wandering around and getting the lay of the land. But eventually, we can be sure that he’ll shift from passive to active searching, and he probably has a lot of toys that will help.”
“Yeah, true.”
“So, my part ends now that you’re aware. I need to make myself obvious. There’s a box with an encrypted comm rig in the back corner. Use it to link up with Stephenson and figure out your moves from here.” She lifted a fist, and Jax bumped it with his.
“Thanks, Valkyrie. Stay safe.”
“You too, Axe.” He crouched in a crate’s shelter as she stepped out into the night and closed the door behind her. A soft click sounded as he donned his helmet and latched it onto the drop suit’s collar. His display came to life and turned the dark interior into something approaching early morning illumination. He found the crate easily and unpacked the encryption unit, heavy transmitter, and antenna. The team constantly trained with all their gear, assembling and disassembling it while wearing blindfolds. Being who they were, it was almost always a speed competition. He wasn’t the fastest at setting up the comms. That honor went to Sebastian Welker’s nimble fingers. But in under two minutes, he’d attached the pieces and initiated a search for a receiver.
As the systems negotiated, he asked, Athena, do you have any way to splice into the base’s security?
“Standby, Jax.” After a few moments of silence, she continued, “Yes. I have access. What is your desire?”
He snorted inwardly. You’re not the woman I want to hear those words from. Careful, or you’ll make Juno jealous.
“You assume that she is as entranced with you as you are with her. This seems…unlikely.” The pause was enough to convey the fact that she was screwing with him.
Yeah, whatever. Find the ghost and put him in my display. Also, give me a map of the facility with a green dot for my location and a red one for his. A moment later, a view from a turret camera appeared in a window, and beneath it the schematic of the UCCA base with two colored spots. The ghost had short brown hair, standard fatigues, and seemed to have an instinct for keeping his face away from the camera. His gait suggested strength and speed, but not too much of either. Overall, average, like a good intelligence agent should be.
He was near the barracks, not close enough to pose an immediate threat. Jax ordered his suit to dampen his heat signature to match the room temperature so thermal imaging wouldn’t spot him, and sat so movement tracking wouldn’t detect him. It was impossible to know what sort of tech the man might be carrying, and he presumed that was the reason behind the order to get into the outfit in the first place. Athena, keep an eye on him and warn me if he seems like he’s interested in this building. His audio feed crackled to life. “Cronus comm.”
“Reese, Jackson, for Major Stephenson. Urgent.”
“Acknowledged. Standby.” About forty seconds went by before his superior officer’s voice, remarkably reassuring, sounded.
“Jackson. Status.”
He watched the dot’s progress as he replied, “Lorenzo thinks you’re psychic. There’s a ghost on site.”
“Damn it.”
“Concur. He’s not here for the prisoner, is he?”
She sighed. “We don’t think so. I’ve been exchanging messages with Maarsen. One of his people raised a flag that an intelligence op has been initiated with you as the target. I found out as soon as I got back up here, and put Lorenzo and Frangilo on alert.”
“But not me.”
“Of course not. Couldn’t have you unintentionally endangering the source. You needed to seem clueless if you encountered him. Fortunately, we spotted the agent before he spotted you.”
Jax nodded. “Understood. Less than optimal, but necessary. So what’s next?”
“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it? Hang on. I’m checking the transport schedule.” He used the moment of silence to check on the ghost, who was now inside the dining hall. Getting closer. Any indication it’s with a purpose?
Athena replied, “Negative. His movements are consistent with an initial exploration of the area.”
Stephenson said, “Here’s what we need to do. There’s going to be a cargo transport landing outside the base around dawn tomorrow. A big one, filled with crates of food supplies, so it’s refrigerated. You’ll want to be on it when it heads back up.”
He frowned. “Like, you’re going to clear it with the pilot so I can ride along?”
She laughed. “When do we ever do things that way? No, you’ll sneak into the back so we have complete deniability. ‘Jackson Reese? Haven’t seen him in days. Maybe he went walkabout.’”
Jax sighed. “I get it.”
“Quit whining, Reese. This is what you’re good at.” The element of sincere scolding in her tone snapped him out of his partial daze.
“Right. I think my brain must have gotten jostled in the explosions. On course and on target, Major.”
The sternness in her voice didn’t fade, but she sounded satisfied. “Great. Now, find a spot to hide out for the night, get on the transport, and contact me when you’re in the air.”
Jax knelt to start disassembling the kit. “You got it, boss.”
His initial instinct had been to stay in the warehouse, but in the ghost’s place, that would be one of the first places he’d check. He crouched at the exit that faced the back of the camp, away from the intelligence agent, who was now inside the barracks. Probably interviewing people by asking seemingly innocent questions to see who will give up something useful. He shook his head. This is a lot more fun from the other side. Athena, is there anywhere to hide outside the base, within visual sight of it? The cargo transport should land on this end, but it’s not guaranteed.
“I’m tapping into the satellites and retasking a camera. It appears there’s a depression about a half-mile from your current position. There is also some evidence that an animal has used it as a home.”
What kind of evidence?
“Bones. Large bones.”
Outstanding. Give me a path and make sure the base’s security systems don’t notice me. The problem with temporary setups like this was that it forced them to rely more intensively on technology than a more well-established installation would. One person watching the sensors instead of two, for instance. It allowed the AI more latitude to subtly adjust the wireless feed from the cameras before it reached the displays. They’d have buried cables in a perma
nent facility, but this one wasn’t there yet.
Between Athena’s machinations and his suit’s adaptive camouflage, he easily made it to the spot she’d indicated. The warning about potential predators was reinforced by discovering that the large bones she’d described, probably about the same size as the leg bone in a horse or cow, had been aggressively gnawed upon. Any ideas on how to deal with curious animals?
“I could use your suit’s external speaker to send out a low volume sound wave. It should deter them from approaching.”
What’s the risk of detection?
“Against passive scanners, minimal. Against active scanners, highly probable.”
He sighed. Okay, let’s go with that since it’ll be less noticeable than shooting them. I’m going to close my eyes. Alert me immediately if anything or anyone gets near enough that I need to worry about it, or if the transport shows up early, or if the ghost heads this way. Otherwise, please wake me an hour before sunrise.
“Sleep well, Jax.”
Surprisingly, he did.
A soft song played in his head, and it took Jax several moments to realize it wasn’t happening in a dream. He blinked and coughed. “Ugh, I hate sleeping in my helmet. Always makes my neck stiff.”
Athena replied, “But safer than the alternative.”
Yeah, probably shouldn’t be talking out loud, either. What’s our status?
“The transport is due to land in forty-seven minutes. The list of contents suggests it should take between thirty and fifty-five minutes to unload. They’ll be carrying empty crates back, so you’ll need to find a moment to sneak in and conceal yourself among them.” Her tone held a slightly amused note.
You mean hide inside one, you’re just not saying so.
“It’s true, that might turn out to be the safest option. There’s no way to know until you can get a view of the interior.”
I can tell when you’re laughing at me.
She chuckled. “You think so, do you? How quaint.”
Jax shook his head and removed his helmet long enough to drink some water and eat a couple of protein bars from the survival kit he’d snagged before leaving the warehouse. He heard the transport before he saw it, and the deafening noise it made certainly seemed appropriate given its size, equally twice the length of a normal shuttle. He’d noticed it parked on the far end of the Cronus’s hangar any number of times, but hadn’t paid any particular attention to it. Still, it was probably a standard model, and he had a basic familiarity with all UCCA craft, most of the Confederacy versions, and an alien ship or two as well. It occurred to him, somewhat belatedly, that he had a computer in his head. Athena, do you have a schematic for that ship?
“Of course, Jax.”
He put his helmet back on and saw all the details about the shuttle, from tonnage to exact measurements to cargo capacity in pounds, kilograms, feet, and meters. Okay, I could get used to this.
Her voice was droll, which was an impressive feat in itself. “Finally, some appropriate appreciation.”
He sighed and stayed low as the transport landed and a flood of people moved in to unload it. “Damn it,” he muttered. “There’s no way I’m going to get there in this.” He crouched and removed the jumpsuit, then pushed it as far under the small lip of the depression as he could. Mark this spot and let Lorenzo know about it once we’re gone.
“Do you think this is a wise idea?”
He shook his head. No, but I certainly can’t march up in my drop suit and avoid attracting notice. This way at least I’ll blend in a little. Where’s the ghost now?
“He’s near the entrance to the refrigerated section of the dining hall.”
Okay, so I won’t be able to sneak into a crate at that end of the route. What’s the timing like on the folks coming and going from the transport?
“Times vary from between ten and thirty seconds between people.”
All right. Give me a heading that gets me to a hidden spot near the transport so I can run in. He already regretted ditching his helmet, but it would have been a dead giveaway to anyone who happened to look his way.
“Three hundred and twenty-two degrees from the direction you’re facing.”
He turned a little to his left and started walking normally, as if out for an early morning stroll. The light was still low enough and his distance far enough that he shouldn’t attract attention. Athena, you’re still subverting the camera facing us, right?
“Of course, Jax.”
He made it to within fifteen feet of the transport without incident by circling to approach the side opposite the installation. In the interim, the ghost had moved nearer to the shuttle, as if he could sense his quarry was nearby. Athena, I’ll go on your mark. Be sure to account for anyone entering, leaving, and most of all the damned intelligence agent.
“Standby. You will run straight at the shuttle, then pause before circling the back and entering.”
Understood.
“Go.”
He ran as quickly and quietly as he could while saying a small prayer to the Universe that no one would look the wrong way at the wrong moment. He stopped before reaching the side of the ship and crouched reflexively.
“Standby.” A pause of three seconds, then, “Go.”
He jogged along the side, then slowed to a walk before rounding the corner. He almost froze when he spotted the ghost, but the man’s head faced away as he exchanged words with one of the people bringing boxes back to the ship. Jax ducked inside and hid behind a crate, silent and still as the next one was brought in and piled in front of it. The boxes were only stacked in ones and twos since there wouldn’t be as many going back up as had been sent down. Jax took advantage of that situation to climb into the back corner and surround that position with two-high stacks, moving them in the gaps between returning crates. He climbed inside the protected single in the corner, strapped on the mask from the survival kit, and tested the oxygen flow. Safe. He frowned as he shivered and a thought crossed his mind. Athena, Stephenson said refrigerated, not freezer, right? Only silence came in reply. Damn it, Athena. Remember, if I die, you die.
The AI’s laughter sounded in his ears, but she didn’t speak. Guess I’m in for an uncomfortable ride. But at least it’s not to an intelligence detention center.
Chapter Seven
The trip up from Vermar to the Cronus was an episode Jax planned never to think of again. He didn’t freeze, but he was cold the entire time, colder than he could remember ever having been. I’m sure it was worse during basic training, but one tends to forget those moments. Or block them out.
The chime of the transport’s skids meeting the metal deck signaled their arrival. There probably wouldn’t be a rush to unload and reload, but it still made sense to get out before someone noticed him. He couldn’t ignore the possibility that one or more intelligence agents were present on the Cronus, and he needed to keep moving to stay ahead of his pursuers.
Jax waited long enough to ensure that anyone waiting to unload would have had time to do so, then clambered out of his hiding spot. He was sore, half-frozen, and vacillated between annoyed and angry from minute to minute. He cleared a path toward the exit, moving crates as silently as he could. Athena, can you access the ship’s systems?
“Only the ones your comm has privileges for. The firewalls are substantial. Given several hours, I could likely break them, but at some risk of discovery. Should I try?”
No, let’s not make a scene. Check the hangar cameras, and if we’re clear, go ahead and pop the hatch on this thing.
“You’ll need to move your comm closer to the panel on the rear wall.”
He obeyed, and moments later the back hatch released, rising only enough for him to roll out beneath it. He stood and stretched, and his joints popped since they finally had room to do so. That sucked. Let’s never do that again. He stayed in the shuttle’s concealment and considered his options, much like he’d done the entire way up from the surface. When he’d pinged her, Stephenson had sa
id, “Find me when you get up here,” so that was his goal. How he was going to achieve it while also trying to maintain a low profile was still murky.
Athena, can you change the identity transponder in my comm? Make me into someone else?
She sounded like the question was one of a long string of stupid things she’d been asked. “Yes. Who would you like to be?”
He shrugged, then a smile crooked his lips. Let’s go with Gene Pryor for a name, and have Gene be an intelligence officer.
“Done.”
Okay, good. Now, give me a path to the gym. I should be able to get a shower and snag some better clothes there.
Jax’s first inclination had been to head straight to Stephenson, but he’d have drawn serious attention in his dirty fatigues. His second, to go to his quarters to clean up was so stupid that he was embarrassed it had crossed his mind. But the exercise facility, with its large unisex locker room and showers, was perfectly suited to his needs. He’d taken off his outer shirt on the way in, so now he looked like a dirty, sweaty crew member who wore combat trousers instead of standard ones. He’d wrapped his equipment belt and holster in the shirt.
The AI hacked the biometric locks on the lockers farthest from the other people in the room until he found a shipboard uniform that would fit him. Fortunately, with comms transmitting identification automatically, name stripes on the shirts were no longer required. He relocated the clean outfit to a different locker on the opposite side of the room, acquired another to shove his dirty clothes into, then stripped and showered. He would have happily stayed under the hot spray listening to the others’ random chatter for hours. Instead, he limited himself to long enough to soothe the aches in his muscles and get himself truly clean for the first time since his shuttle had been shot out from beneath him.
