by Jan Domagala
“You too Torres,” he replied actually thinking how amazing she looked.
“Holy shit Torres, you look fine,” Vance said almost drooling as he saw her.
“Keep it in your pants Vance, she’s a team mate, remember,” Cooper said as he too joined them.
“Captain, I respectfully request a transfer, effective immediate,” joked Vance.
“Get real Vance, you know as well as I do, I’d kill you,” Torres said punching him playfully on his shoulder.
“Might be worth the risk,” he admitted.
“For you maybe, but think about me. I’ve a reputation to think of, and I won’t lower my standards for anyone,” Torres said smiling.
“Would it help if I begged?” Vance persisted.
Putting an arm around her friends shoulder she said, “Nope, will you settle for a beer instead?”
“Guess that’ll have to do,” he replied.
“Good, let’s go, Jake’s buying,” she said dragging Vance toward the hopper parked just ahead.
“You do realise, you’ve broken my heart Torres,” Vance said as she pushed him into one of the rear seats.
“You’ll get over it the second you clap eyes on some of the girls who’ll be out tonight,” Torres said as she climbed in and sat beside him.
Their banter was always like this, playfully flirtatious, but in reality, they were more like brother and sister, more than mere team mates. Each member would lay down their life for the others. It was as simple as that.
“What do you mean Jake’s buying?” Riley said climbing aboard beside the driver.
Leaning forward in his seat beside Torres and Vance, Cooper said to the driver, “We’re new in town; take us to the hottest spot you know of.”
“I know just the place,” the driver said as he took the hopper off the pad and up into the air.
“How did I know you were going to say that,” Riley said then added, “Bet it’s the most expensive too, right?”
“All that heat costs money man,” the driver agreed.
“Come on Jake, you’re only young once, right?” Torres said smiling.
Riley sat back and said, “Oh what the hell,” as he resigned himself to go with the flow. He knew that whatever happened, this night would be one to remember.
15
General Sinclair was sitting behind his desk working on the reports of the final test that the Wildfire Team had just completed. He was pleased at the progress they had made and he was quite rightly proud of the choice he had made in picking that particular team. Their record in Recon Delta had been exemplary and now he had a hunch they would out do some of their earlier achievements.
Things were going well, really well in fact, not just with the team. The RandCorp supplies had arrived on schedule and the upgrades were working fine. As soon as that thought entered his head, he wondered when it would all start to go wrong. Pessimism wasn’t something he adhered to but he did subscribe to Murphy’s Law, which clearly stated that anything that could go wrong, would go wrong.
A smile crossed his lips as the familiar tingle informed him of an incoming call.
“Here we go,” he said but then the tingle suddenly intensified as a data burst transmission struck his NI with the force of a close range shot from a Sig P999. The intense pain slammed him back in his chair as the amount of data threatened to overload his neural pathways. Slowly his NI began to unravel and assimilate all the data into some semblance of order and the pain associated with it began to subside.
As Sinclair began to get his breathing back under control, he began to understand the transmission.
It was from Kurt Stryder.
Once the full message had been read and stored by his NI, Sinclair just sat at his desk, in shock.
The fact that Kurt had contacted him was pleasing and shocking in equal measure. Kurt had become more than just an asset, he’d become a friend but after he was brought back from Alliance space he had been a shadow of the man he’d known. In a physical sense he couldn’t believe how well he looked but his eyes had betrayed something far deeper going on. The grief of losing Zara Hardy had hit him hard; that he was well aware of but there was something else, and it was because of this that he had not expected to hear from him so soon. He was pleased to hear from him to be sure but also shocked because he knew for Kurt to contact him so soon the consequences must be dire.
After digesting the entire message, he knew exactly how dire the situation was.
Choosing a secure com channel, he called Milos Sukor, the owner of the Colonial Line. If he wanted to mount an operation to rescue Kurt and the rest of the passengers without causing at least an interstellar incident or at worst, possible war with the Alliance, he would need to keep this whole thing on a need to know basis and that meant absolutely no news media involvement. He would have to run this like any other covert operation with one exception; he would have to involve Sukor to ensure that no one got to know of the incident.
It was a no win situation, he knew, there was no way he would be able to keep this concealed. A company like the Colonial Line worked on PR. News of this could get out just too many ways. Once it did, the shit would really hit the fan, and it was a very big fan. The consequences of this action had the potential to spread throughout the galaxy.
Blame would have to be apportioned out but he would deal with that later, now he had a job to do.
“General Sinclair, what can I do for you sir, I was just about to leave for dinner?” Sukor said when the call was connected.
“For a start sir, you can cancel your dinner plans, we have important matters to discuss,” Sinclair said.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that General, perhaps in the morning when my office is open, we can schedule a meeting.”
“That’s unacceptable Sukor, we’ll talk now, tomorrow we could be at war and you’ll be under arrest for inciting an interstellar incident,” snapped Sinclair angrily.
“What are you talking about man?” Sukor replied indignantly.
“Have you any idea where the Colonial Queen is at this very moment?” asked Sinclair.
Expecting the worst Sukor remained silent as he marshalled his thoughts ready for his response. He said simply, “Tell me.”
“The Tartaran Battlefield.”
“You’re not joking, are you!”
“No.”
“Damn, the fool did it,” Sukor said.
“Excuse me?” Sinclair asked.
“The Prince has a fascination with the place, he made enquiries about if any of our cruises went anywhere near it. I told him what he already knew, that it was a no-fly zone, so he chartered the Queen. I guess he must have bribed someone on the crew to take them there.”
“You do realise that by your gross negligence you have brought us to the brink of war.”
“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying General,” Sukor said furiously.
“I’m not implying anything, I’m informing you of something, a man of your obvious intelligence should know. You allowed a man with Aswan’s reputation to charter your flagship after he’d displayed an interest in a Forbidden Zone. Now I can only assume that he paid more than the usual charter fee for you to agree to this, but still you never thought to put any security measures in place, such as navigational inhibitors to prevent the ship straying beyond the pre-arranged flight plan. Take all that into account, and it makes you an accessory to Interstellar Treason. If war does break out, that charge will be upgraded to Instigation of an Interstellar War, which holds the death penalty.”
Sukor was dumb struck; war, death penalty? He never expected this. He thought the Prince would persuade the captain to make a quick detour; they’d make a quick fly past and then return to the rest of the cruise. How in damnation had it come to this?
There was something he was certain of though, and that was that Sinclair wanted something from him. He had not called merely to accuse him, if that had been the case, he would be under arrest now. He wanted something a
nd that may yet be his salvation.
“Is there any way I can help General?” he asked as his confidence returned.
“As a matter of fact there is. If I intend to mount a rescue operation then it must be done in total secrecy, which means no media reports. I don’t want my men endangered because someone at your company decided to give the media a sound bite on the subject, is that clear? A complete and utter clamp down. If the Alliance learn that your flagship has crossed over into the Forbidden Zone they’ll send troops and it won’t end there.”
“I’ll handle it sir, you have my word,” Sukor said seeing a way out of his predicament.
“Good, if you do this right it’ll go a long way to gaining some leniency against any charges they may bring against you,” Sinclair said then ended the call. He’d deliberately led Sukor to believe that by helping, any charges might be lessened, which of course, was blatantly untrue but he allowed him to believe that. A willing participant who thinks they will gain something from it will always increase their endeavours, as opposed to someone who is forced to do something. They would rather look for a way out of their predicament, than focus on the task at hand and Sinclair wanted Sukor focussed.
With that done, he could focus himself on what action to take.
It seemed obvious that he had to send in a select few, maybe just one team who could get in, get the job done and get out without being noticed, and that meant it had to be the Wildfire Team.
Oh were they going to be pissed when they got this call!
16
The bar was packed when they arrived and just getting to where they could get served was a chore. Whether it was because of the eye catching outfit Torres had on or simply because of the sheer numbers of people inside, it was hard to say. It would certainly be true to say she did have an enormous impact on the male population present, and even some females too. All this garnered some unwanted attention, but was that the only reason, did the three serious looking men escorting her have any bearing on it, might have. Whatever the reason, they were certainly noticed, whether they wanted to be or not.
Finally making it to the long bar they ordered a round of drinks. As they talked among themselves, enjoying the freedom of being off camp, a tall, well groomed and handsome man separated himself from his friends and walked up to Torres and, ignoring her three male friends, said, “Are your legs tired honey, because you’ve been running through my mind all night,”
Torres looked at Riley who she was standing next to leaning their backs against the bar with Vance and Cooper facing them. She glanced then at her two other friends who, in turn with Riley all looked at the intruder.
Torres said, “Does that work, I mean, ever?”
The man’s smile remained in place, then slipped just a fraction as he asked, “Excuse me?” clearly he was not used to rejection.
“That line, does it work? Oh I can see how you might have some success, the expensive suit, the charming smile. I even bet if you flash enough money around you could even get laid once in a while, but seriously, did you think that line would work on me? How drunk do you think I am?” Torres said.
The man’s smile dripped away then as he looked at the three men in the group. Slowly and with disdain in his eyes as if he had dismissed them as a threat, he then returned his gaze to Torres and said, “Oh I get it, you think because you have these three chumps with you, you can talk to people however you want.”
“What makes you think I need them to speak to you? Do I need your permission guys?”
Riley raised his eyes to the ceiling because he knew where this was going.
Vance suggested, “Turn around man and walk away while you still can.”
The intruder rounded on him, anger flaring, “Are you threatening me?” he shouted.
Holding up his hands to placate the man Vance said, “Just trying to give you some good advice my friend.”
“Keep your advice and shove it up your ass,” the man said.
“Is that any way to talk in front of a lady?” Vance asked and the man squared up to him and threw a vicious right cross which Vance saw coming and evaded by twisting his shoulders. The punch sailed past his face missing by a fraction.
Torres grabbed the attacker by his balls and squeezed, hard. Immediately the man’s face contorted from one of anger to one in agony. Screaming as his legs buckled beneath him Torres held him up as the tighter her grip got, the higher he screamed.
Finally, she released him, he collapsed at her feet in agony, tears of pain, and humiliation ran freely down his face.
“I did warn you,” Vance said.
The crowd around them having listened to the bi-play then seen the outcome suddenly parted to allow the man’s group of friends to come forward. All four of them dressed similarly to their friend on the floor, staring at them.
Slowly and with some discomfort, the crumpled man got to his feet. Taking deep breaths he straightened up to his full height of close to six feet six inches.
“Oh I bet that must’ve been embarrassing, being put down by a mere girl,” taunted Torres when she saw his friends gather around him.
Beginning to gather his courage once more, he thought now that his friends were with him he had control of the situation, which he never had to start with.
As his anger flared once more, he made to move but before he could really do or say anything Riley stepped in front of him. With a calm, self assured tone of voice he asked, “Haven’t you had enough humiliation for one night?”
The man couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“There are five of us and only three of you,” he said leaning in trying to intimidate the slightly shorter man.
Torres heard what was said and made to step around Riley but a quick glance over his shoulder made her re-think that action.
“You’re forgetting it was the lady who put you down, if she can do that, what do you think the rest of us are capable of?” Riley said, his voice still calm and in control.
Seeing as how Torres had backed off with just one look from this man gave him pause to think.
He glanced over his shoulder at his friends who had arrived to back him up and he was not sure how to play it anymore. Clearly he’d bitten off more than he could chew but to back down now meant he would lose face in front of his friends adding insult to injury.
In his testosterone driven mind he really had no choice.
Torres, Vance and Cooper knew what would happen so took a step back toward the bar to give their friend room to move.
When the blow came at him, Riley simply caught the fist in the palm of his hand and twisted the wrist. Instantly the suited man cried out in pain and was forced to his knees as his arm was suddenly pushed against the joint.
Two of the others stepped forward to assist, hands already balled into fists ready to be thrown.
Riley lashed out with his right leg in a bone jarring sidekick that stopped the first one dead in his tracks as the blow almost caved in his chest. The second received a swinging back fist strike that caught him on the side of his face, which snapped his head around so he spat out a stream of blood.
Still holding onto the man’s hand as he forced him to his knees Riley stared at the other two who were contemplating joining in. Seeing this man in action, they thought better of it. Holding their hands up in surrender they shook their heads in answer to Riley’s unasked question.
“Okay man, let him go and we’ll leave, okay?” one of them offered.
Riley released his grip and helped the man up. Putting his hand on his shoulder he leaned in and said, I suggest you re-think your opening gambit with the ladies my friend, just some friendly advice, okay?”
Sheepishly he nodded his head then joined his friends and they quietly left the bar area.
The crowd around them was quiet for a second or two while the scene settled as the onlookers discussed what they’d just been witness too.
“Man, I love to watch you work,” Torres said with a big grin as
Riley rejoined them.
“The moment I saw what you were wearing I knew this would happen,” he said with no trace of malice, rather like a big brother admonishing his kid sister for having to bail her out of trouble, again.
“Oh, so now it’s my fault?” she snapped back jokingly, then added, “So it’s my fault bozo’s like that can’t respect the opposite sex?”
“No, of course not,” Riley said retreating slightly knowing he was on shaky ground here.
“So what should I do, wear something that covers all my flesh just to stave off events like what happened here tonight or, should I wear what I like, what I think I look good in?”
“No, I see your point and I agree with you but if you continue to dress like you do, looking like you do will always attract a certain amount of unwanted attention. I’m afraid it’s inevitable, I don’t have an answer other than that for you, I’m sorry. Look let’s enjoy the rest of our evening shall we?” Riley said.
Vance said, “Sounds like a plan.”
“Yeh, it’s doubtful we’ll have any more trouble here tonight not after Captain Fantastic here’s display,” Cooper said.
Riley was about to say something when a familiar tingle alerted him to a call coming in. He held up a hand to his friends as he listened intently to General Sinclair’s voice.
“I’m afraid something’s come up and I need you all back here a.s.a.p. your three day leave will have to wait for a while,” he said.
“Copy that sir, on our way,” Riley replied and he looked at his team. He said, “Sorry guys, leave’s cancelled, we have a mission. General Sinclair wants us back on base, now.”
“Well we had fun didn’t we?” Vance said as the rest of the team just stared at Riley with disappointment.
“I had fun, did you have fun Torres? What about you Coop, did you have fun?”