The deputy settled behind the desk with his weapon drawn. Paulsen set up behind the filing cabinet. He took out his shooter and laid his right arm on the top of the cabinet and pointed his shooter at the door in a practice gesture. It would work fine, a nice steady platform for his firing arm. He would aim low to wound her with the first shots. He still wanted a prisoner, but if things got confused, he would shoot at any available target.
Both men got comfortable while still being prepared. They knew the door would be opening without warning. Paulsen thought about the shuttle. The timing for the attack would be predicated on its arrival nearby. The craft would only want to be on the ground for seconds. He thought of likely landing spots. The spots that they had considered and covered with cameras and beacons were too far away. He couldn’t see Lisberg running through the fields at night and into a darkened copse of trees hiding a landing zone. If the attack was as bold as he envisioned, the shuttle would land right outside the jail. In fact, that arrival would be a good cover for the attack. The sound of the shuttle arriving and landing next to the jail would cause the jail occupants to look out the windows at the noise. Nobody would be covering the door and curiosity would override caution and alertness. Greg looked at his deputy but didn’t tell him about his reasoning. He didn’t want the man to relax. After all, Paulsen’s reasoning could be wrong. He calculated the shuttle’s time of flight. Although he had no idea where the shuttle was when it dropped to the terrain other than “the other side of the planet,” he knew it would take it about forty minutes to get around half the planet at high speed while staying slightly above the terrain. He glanced at his watch. It was five minutes before three o’clock. He had talked to the navy officer about ten minutes prior. Thirty minutes to go.
He looked at his deputy. “Relax for a few minutes,” he whispered. The man nodded and shifted to a more comfortable position.
Paulsen would cover the door while his partner took a break in place. He straightened his gun arm on the top of the cabinet. For the umpteenth time, he checked the safety off and the weapon was fully charged. He aimed slightly downward. He knew there would be no warning. He waited twenty minutes and nodded to his deputy. “Get ready. Any time now.” The man resumed his ready position behind the desk.
Paulsen was right. Two minutes later the steady hum of a shuttle grew in volume as it closed on the town at high speed and low altitude. The pitch of the sound changed as the shuttle cut back on power as it set up for a quick approach and landing. Paulsen estimated it was aiming for the town square just outside the jail.
Suddenly, the door flew open and came to a sudden, jarring stop against the cabinet. The door gap was there and Paulsen fired three quick rounds into the semi-darkness at the legs of any assailant. His timing and aim were rewarded with a scream and then the sound of a body hitting the ground.
The body crawled out of the gap and was moving away toward the town square. Greg went to the door and slid the cabinet out of the way. He motioned to his deputy to stand at the edge of the door opening next to the cabinet Greg had hidden behind. Greg pulled open the door while staying out of the sight behind it. He cautiously peered around the door’s edge with his right eye. As he looked, the shuttle touched down on the edge of the town square directly across the street from the jail. Lisberg was crawling toward it. She had clearly been hit in both legs. She was using her arms only for propulsion as the dead weight of her legs hampered her progress.
There was nothing Paulsen could do about the shuttle, but he could stop Lisberg. He hoped the shuttle didn’t have a squad of people who might attempt a rescue and then complete the mission. The shooting would have aroused nearby sleepers. Paulsen hoped a few would grab weapons and make an appearance.
“Give it up, Lisberg. I won’t let you get there,” Paulsen yelled from the door. He really didn’t want to shoot a wounded person crawling away from him, but he would if necessary. Lisberg did not look back and did not stop crawling. Paulsen looked at the shuttle twenty meters from him. There was no movement there nor any indication of future action. He couldn’t let Lisberg escape. He brought up his weapon and deliberately bounced a shot next to the crawling woman. She ignored the blast and continued her slow progress to the shuttle.
Greg aimed in on her as he reviewed the situation. If he let her get close enough to the shuttle, the occupants may try to dash out to retrieve her. The attempt would be accompanied by covering fire that would endanger the surrounding area. Also, they just might succeed in rescuing her. He couldn’t allow that. He slowly squeezed the trigger. As his shooter was about to fire, two weapons opened up from down the road to Greg’s right. Rounds began hitting the shuttle. Paulsen stopped his shot as he looked down the road. He knew two of his deputies lived nearby in that direction. They would be responding to the initial shots and both were smart enough to understand the situation. Their rounds couldn’t penetrate the shuttle but would serve notice to its occupants that coming out would result in a gunfight and a much more difficult rescue attempt.
Within ten seconds the shuttle lifted and climbed into the night sky. It circled the town and departed back the way it had come, keeping down in the terrain to avoid sensor scans. Greg watched it go as his two deputies ran up the road, their arms extended to cover the now abandoned Lisberg.
Greg shouted over his shoulder at his partner. “Call the base and tell them the shuttle is heading east from the town in low-level flight.” He paused and then added, “Get them to send a medical team to us.”
Paulsen knew the odds of Drake finding and tracking the shuttle were long, but he had to try. He also thought a base medical team would take Lisberg to the base dispensary and reduce the town’s involvement and subsequent gossiping. The last thing he needed were people wanting to talk this incident to death while milling about the area.
He left his cover and moved toward Lisberg all the while covering her with his pistol. She was laying on her belly, still in the direction of the shuttle’s recent position. Both legs showed heavy scoring and the smell of burnt flesh inundated her. Paulsen had hit her three times in her lower limbs. It was clear her left leg would need to be amputated below the knee and the right leg would require extensive rebuilding. The pain had to be excruciating, but she was totally silent.
She had a weapon in her right hand and was watching the two deputies as they rose from cover and approached. She stretched her right arm out and fired at the pair. Her shot went just wide of one of the deputies. They both hit the ground. Paulsen came up from behind her. He aimed his shooter at her back as he rapidly cut down the distance between them.
“Give it up. There is no way out.” He spoke calmly as he kept his weapon centered on her back. She rolled over to face him as she brought her weapon around to take aim. He shot her three times center mass. All three were killing shots. Lisberg was pressed back hard against the ground with her arms outflung, her shooter falling from her right hand. Paulsen moved to her with his pistol covering her. He knew there was no real need. He recognized dead when he saw it. She lay with arms out and sightless eyes staring into the sky. The two deputies rose and came to the body. Paulsen looked around. People were starting to come out of their homes in response to the shooting. The sheriff addressed his two men. “Keep the crowd at a distance. Last thing we need is a spectator event with a bunch of people recording the action close up.” The two men moved off to carry out the task.
The town’s people were coming from all directions, several were armed. Paulsen shook his head. Everyone is brave after the shooting stops. The two deputies started holding people back, but soon the growing numbers would preclude them from keeping track of everyone. Fortunately, an air car sped into the town square with lights flashing. The crowd drifted apart to give the vehicle room to pass through. The medical response car from the base stopped next to the prone Lisberg. She was loaded up quickly, and the vehicle departed for the base dispensary. The medical people knew the value of quick action with a crowd around. The observers imm
ediately began to melt away. It was early in the morning and the excitement was over. They also knew the sheriff wouldn’t talk about the episode so there was no need to stay in the square.
“Thanks for the help,” Paulsen said to the two deputies as they approached him after their brief crowd control duties were complete. “See you in the office at about eleven.” The two men smiled and turned toward home. The extra sleep would be appreciated. Paulsen returned to the jail. He addressed his companion as he entered. “I’m taking Yardley with me. Grab some sleep in the other cell. Lock and barricade the front door. I think it’s over, but you never know.” The man nodded. Paulsen went to Yardley’s cell. She stood at the cell door and watched his approach. He opened the door and motioned her to step out.
“We’re going to the base,” he announced in a matter-of-fact tone. She nodded. She had been roused by the action at the door and knew Paulsen had just stopped an attempt on her life, so she wasn’t about to create any sort of problem now. The two departed the jail for his air car parked in the back. They drove to the base dispensary. The short trip passed in silence. Paulsen identified himself at the gate and was passed through. He drove the two hundred meters to the small medical building and parked by the main entrance. They went inside.
Captain Lisa Cassidy was there. She had been notified of the medical air car being dispatched to the town so came to the clinic to get firsthand information. She turned at the sound of Paulsen and Yardley approaching the emergency room.
Paulsen quickly related the story and Cassidy nodded as her eyes flicked between him and Yardley. The three of them turned to the table behind Cassidy. Wanda Lisberg was laid out on the slab. Yardley hung back as the other two people moved next to the corpse. A medical technician was taking images and would move on to fingerprints and DNA as they would attempt to determine her true identity.
In death, there was a hardness to Lisberg that she had hidden in life. She looked the part of a contract killer now. A hard case who had been in the business a long time. Immediately after the shootout, Paulsen had wondered why Lisberg had forced him into taking the final shots at her. Looking down at her now, he knew why. It was just the way she did business. She had probably been very good at her profession and had never given anybody a break. Paulsen had run across others like her on Potenka. Nobody had ever given them a break, and they had passed the lesson on. And so it went.
Paulsen glanced behind him at Yardley, five meters away. That lesson might come in handy here.
“Come see close up,” he said in a quiet voice. Yardley, thinking she had a choice, shook her head.
“No,” responded Paulsen. “Come see.” As he talked, he covered the short distance to her, grabbed her by the shirt collar and pulled her back to his original position. Caught by surprise, Yardley didn’t struggle until the last two meters. By then, it was too late, she was there.
Paulsen whispered harshly in her ear. “Look at her!” Yardley didn’t, so Paulsen repeated himself. “Look at her! She is the first to come after you and sure as hell won’t be the last.”
Yardley looked at the body then at Paulsen as he continued to speak. “If you think I get some secret thrill out of killing people to protect you, I assure you, I do not. They will keep coming as long as you keep quiet. Next time I’ll make it easy for them. I’ll put you out in the town square on an hours-long exercise period. They can shoot you from a dozen different buildings. No sweat.”
Yardley looked at him as she measured his sincerity. She believed him. She glanced at the body. It was all real now. Before, the Aeonian Conglomeration killing her had been an outrageous scheme. Now it was a lethal certainty. The AC wanted her dead and had no qualms about making it happen. She thought loyalty might be part of the equation here when, in reality, loyalty had sashayed out of town a long time ago. The AC had to do what they had to do. And now so did Yardley. She turned to Paulsen. “Anything you want to know.”
Chapter 13
Predator and Nemesis floated together in a quiet sector of space ten hours from the planet of Bolindale. A crowd was gathered in Predator’s day cabin as Tactical was giving the initial briefing for the attack on the Bolindale jail that had held Killian O’Hare and two others after the failed attack on the ore processing plant sixteen standard years prior. Sitting at the briefing table were O’Hare and Hawkins surrounded by their officers. On the couch against the bulkhead or sitting on the deck were the leaders of the death squads from four Flot 1 ships and the pilots for the three shuttles to be used in the assault. A floating display over the briefing table showed the jail and the surrounding area.
Raferty Hawkins stood and addressed the group. “Let me share my commander’s guidance that was given to Tactical. There has been a lot of abuse and torture happening in this jail for a long time. We know it has been going on for sixteen years for sure and probably for many decades before that. Not only at this prison but at their other jails long before this particular prison was built. Nobody has ever done anything about it. That is about to change. We will take the prison and deal out justice as needed. Maybe it is revenge, but the result will be the same regardless of what you call it. We will be hitting the place during the evening meal so most of the inmates will be in the mess hall and out of the line of fire. We will be searching for four guards in particular, but I am sure there are many more. We will let the inmates point out any other offenders. I realize that is not too scientific, but I think if several prisoners point out some guards, you will be able to tell if the guards are guilty of anything. The emotion and the vehemence of the prisoners and the guards’ reaction to it will tell you the truth. Do deal out justice as you see fit.
“We are also hitting them at this time because it is the end of the shift which changes over at 1800. People will be tired and anxious to leave and probably not too alert. Regardless of how guilty other people on other shifts are, we obviously can’t hit all three work shifts. Day shift is the most desirable shift for the workers so will have the most senior personnel. They are the guiltiest. Also, the warden, deputy warden, and the head of security will be there as part of their working day, and we have to get them too. We will steal their admin records and see who is on the other shifts. If any names stand out, we will deal with them through blood contracts.
“Some of you may wonder why we don’t hit these guards at their homes or on the way to work. We only have the names of four guards when there are clearly many others who are also guilty. We don’t know who those other guards are right now so we have to get the prison records and get the prisoners to tell us. The only way to do those two things is to hit the jail. Also, we need to ensure everyone sees that this attack is tied to the jail and its activities and not some random street violence. One last thing before I hand it over to the OpsO. Captain O’Hare and I will be in the attacking force, but Tactical will be in charge of this operation.” He nodded to Tactical and took a seat.
Tactical stood at the edge of the far side of the table near the corridor hatch so as not to obstruct the view from the couch. She spoke in a formal tone. “I will cover the overall plan in broad terms. We will break for a meal and then brief each part in detail in our various cells.
“Our mission is to attack the jail outside the town of Longwall and kill several guards and officials for revenge. Our assets are three armed shuttles from Predator, Nemesis, and Outlaw. The assault force is forty-four people, eleven of which will be in place prior to the shuttle attack. The bulk of the assault force are four death squads from Predator, Nemesis, Outlaw, and Gunfighter.
“Chain of command. I have overall command of the operation. Captain Hawkins has the Predator squad augmented by half of the Outlaw squad. Captain O’Hare has the Gunfighter squad augmented by the other half of the Outlaw squad. Baby Doll has the Nemesis squad which will already be in place prior to the attack.”
She now used a light pointer as she referred to the display. “This jail, or small prison, is located twenty-one klicks from the town of Longwall. It
sits on a small open plain at a slightly higher elevation than the town. Between the jail and the town is the Sluice River. This narrow river is five klicks from the prison and sixteen klicks from the edge of town as measured on a straight line. There is a thick line of vegetation on each side of the river that extends about fifty meters from each bank. The river itself is polluted from decades of mining runoff and the vegetation is tangled brambles and stunted trees in a continuous line along the river. Between the river and the town, the terrain is pockmarked with abandoned open mining pits and various mounds of mining debris and slag heaps on an open plain. It is unpassable by air car. On the prison side of the river is the narrow vegetation belt and then open space that extends all around the prison and for several klicks in all directions. This was also a mining area that is marked with pits and debris heaps over the entire zone. The jail and its immediate surroundings were the same way, but the builders leveled out a suitable area when they constructed the jail eighteen years ago. There is only one road to the jail. A north-south road runs out of town. Approximately one klick out of town to the north is the turn east to the prison. The two-lane road meanders around open pits and piles of leftover mining debris. The road crosses a bridge on the Sluice River and then straightens out and goes directly to the prison. The meandering road is twenty-three klicks long from the town to the prison.”
Tactical flicked her hand, and the display changed to a close-up of the outside of the prison. “The jail is a three-story large building with two wings and a cross-section joining them to form a large U. It is orientated southwest to northeast with the open end of the U facing to the southwest. The open space in the middle of the U is a courtyard. It is two hundred meters long and one hundred meters wide. It serves as an exercise area, punishment area, and roll call area. There are three sets of stocks there and offending prisoners are put in the stocks for various offenses and may also be whipped while in the stocks for more serious violations. Apparently, guards are quite zealous in administering punishment. The open end of the U is enclosed by a three-meter high fence with hot lasers intertwined to prevent people from scaling the fence. The open area of the U looks toward the town but all you can see are several roofs so there is no danger of someone from the town watching the prison and seeing our assault. There are four doors entering the courtyard from the prison. One at the end of each wing, one at the center of the cross-section and, next to that door, a large commercial roll-up door for moving large equipment or other items into the courtyard. Behind that large door is a big, open-storage and staging room. All doors are solid metal in welded, heavy-duty frames. All prison windows are of shatterproof glass and covered with metal bars.
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