Gabriel stared at his brother open-mouthed, his younger-looking face now making more sense. And Zack was correct. This must be why MacFarland had sent them here, and why the mission was completely off the record. He wanted this discovery for himself. And then he wanted Gabriel and his team to disappear.
He turned and motioned to St. Laurent, who was standing nearby with one of the techs. Just as he was about to speak, an operator at a workstation on the far side of the room called out.
“Emergence at T-Gate,” the woman said, tapping a few keys. “It’s a ship, Mister Vanheel.”
Vanheel strode over to the operator’s console, peering over her shoulder. After a few seconds, he stood up and turned to Zack and Gabriel. “Mister Chairman, it’s a freighter, Chinese registry, unscheduled.”
Sowers, who was standing closest the tech who announced the transit, took a few steps over and looked at the screen. “Commander, it’s the ship you showed us. Looks like that second team is here.”
Gabriel looked back at Zack, who had a concerned look on his face. “Don’t worry, this is what I do. This is what makes me who I am,” he said quietly. Turning to the rest of his team, who had gathered nearby, he said in a louder tone, “Time to get to work. We’ve got a few hours, let’s use them wisely.”
Chapter 22
The team gathered around the central table in the Operations center, looking into the holoimage projected above its surface. It was a three-dimensional representation of the incoming ship, the full data from the T-Gate station having just arrived.
“Okay, now that they’ve emerged from the T-Gate and we have actual telemetry, I can confirm they’re coming in on a standard Xu-class cargo hauler, Chinese-built, approximately 20 years old,” Gabriel said. “It can’t be rigged for drop capsules, so we know that they’ll need to reach a standard low orbit and land a shuttle. That gives us an advantage - they’ll have to come to us, on our turf, so to speak.”
Jimenez spoke up. “Sir, why not just call in the Marcinko? She could take them out before they get anywhere near orbit.”
“Obviously that’s a very valid suggestion, Arturo,” St. Laurent replied. Gabriel nodded for her to continue, curious if she was on the same page as he was.
“We need them on the ground,” she went on. “We need at least one of them alive, or we’re not going to be able to get to the bottom of all of this. And,” she said with a hint of a smile, “that wouldn’t be as much fun.”
Several chuckles went up around the table.
“What kind of ETA are we talking, sir?” asked Sowers.
Gabriel had his neuretics zoom out the image to show the 46 Scorpii system and project an orbital path for the incoming ship. “If they use a standard flight plan for that ship, they should reach orbit in five hours, eleven minutes, with a 45 minute accel and same decel. I don’t anticipate them doing a max run, as I don’t think that bucket can handle the full accel and decel stress.” He held up a hand. “I know, that’s a big guess, but until the Marcinko can give us an idea of when they shut engines down for coast, we won’t know for sure.”
He had the image show a point in space just inside the fifth planet, 95 million miles out from Poliahu. “Right here, they should start their decel, which will put their ass end towards us, and their plasma drive will blank out any sensors they have pointed our way. In the meantime, we’re going to get the interior of the colony prepared. Once they hit that point, we’ll move to stations, and set up our exterior defenses. We’ll keep them guessing as long as possible.”
He called up the Marcinko’s position, a glowing dot appearing on the holoimage on the opposite side of Poliahu from the path of the incoming ship. “Captain McTiernan,” he said.
After a four second delay as the signal was bounced off the microsats in orbit, McTiernan’s voice came back, “Standing by, Commander.”
“Captain, you’ve got all the info we have. We’re going to need to you stay stealthed on the far side while the Chinese ship comes in. We want them coming in blind. If they see any type of aggressive move from the Marcinko, they may attempt to run, and we’ll lose the opportunity to grab them. Our plan is to have them land personnel we can, uh, talk to.”
“Commander,” said McTiernan. “You don’t anticipate them simply bombarding from orbit, wiping out the entire colony?”
Gabriel shook his head, momentarily forgetting they were audio-only. “No, I don’t. There’s a significant asset here they’re coming for, they won’t risk destroying it. They’ll have to come to us.”
“Understood,” he replied. “We’re here if you need us.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Gabriel cut the connection and called up a schematic of the colony on the holotable.
“Sabra and St. Laurent,” he continued, looking over at the two women across the table from him. “You two will be our point defense outside. I want your sniper rifles set up on the ridges.” Two dots appeared on the holoimage, one on the southernmost crest areas of each mountain surrounding the valley where the colony sat. “Again, once the Chinese ship goes into sensor blackout, you’ll move out. Once in position, go passive comm only and wait for instructions.” He grinned fiercely. “I don’t anticipate many getting through your Burtons, but keep in mind we need to talk to at least one of them.”
He turned to his left. “Lieutenant Brevik, I want you and your cannon stationed here,” he said. A glowing dot appeared on the image in the entry hub, against the wall opposite the doors they had come in. “You’re going to be our first line of defense inside.”
Brevik nodded silently, his armor’s neckline creaking with the strain of his massive size.
“Mister Jimenez,” Gabriel said. “How is it going with the Larry?”
Jimenez looked up from the probe at one end of the table. “Sir, this is a piece of cake,” he replied.
Vanheel next to him gave a slight smile. “Your man here knows what he’s doing, Mister Gabriel.”
Gabriel waited a few seconds. “And?”
“Sorry sir,” Jimenez said hurriedly. “I was able to power it up, not a problem, and I can definitely modify the defensive laser to be able to fire on command.” He closed a panel on the side of the device. “I have it linked to the command net. Here, I’ll show you. Watch that waste container in the corner.”
He stepped back from the table, and Gabriel caught the burst of Jimenez’s neuretics sending a command to the probe. A split second later, a pencil-thin sapphire beam lanced out from the lens on the top. The beam ended in a vacant chair back at a workstation near the far side of the room, and a hole appeared, glowing edges emitting a puff of smoke and crackle-hiss of rapidly expanding vapor that pushed the chair backwards.
“Dammit, sorry!” Jimenez yelped, shutting down the laser. “I thought I had that sighted properly.”
Gabriel grimaced. “Better get that issue fixed, Mister. Then as soon as that ship decelerates, I want you outside reprogramming the others.”
“Aye aye sir,” Jimenez replied with a sheepish look at Vanheel.
“Mister Sowers,” Gabriel continued. “Once Mister Jimenez is back inside, the two of you will take up flanking positions here in the Operations center.” He pointed to the main doors. “One on either side, pulse rifles.” A pair of ‘aye aye, sirs’ answered him.
“Ensign Takahashi,” he said, looking at the young man standing near the center table with Doctor Gilchrist, the two of them having just returned from touring the lab facilities. He regretted not having the time to talk to the ensign about the lab and program, and regretted even more putting him at possible risk alone.
“Yes sir,” Takahashi replied.
“Sorry to turn you right around, but I need you and the doctor to go back to the labs, barricade yourself in there. If what they are truly after is the antiaging technology, they may send someone in that direction.” He pointed to the doctor. “Doc, you appear a fit man. Military service?” he asked.
The doctor gave a small smile. “Three years, Army me
dic.”
“Army. Well, we can’t all be perfect, can we?” Gabriel replied. “Combat training?
“Two tours in Algeria during the Solar War, and another on Mars during the riots.”
“Arturo,” Gabriel said. “Load them up with extra ammo and batteries, and get the doctor an appropriate weapon.” Turning back to the doctor he said, “Good luck, and keep your head down.” The doctor gave a brief salute and started chatting with Jimenez.
“Ensign Lamber,” Gabriel said. The sullen face looking back at him made him pause briefly. “You okay son?”
After a few seconds, Lamber nodded. “Of course, sir.”
Gabriel narrowed his eyes, trying to get a read on the former ground-pounder. Still couldn’t figure out the man, he thought. But once we get through this, he and I will have a long talk.
“Ensign, you will be secondary defense here,” he said, pointing towards the back door to Utilities. “If they get this far, we can’t let them get to the colony’s heart, otherwise they’ll control the entire facility.” He waited for Lamber to acknowledge him; it took a few more seconds, but he finally received an “aye aye.” Gabriel gave him a longer look before turning back to Zack.
“You and your board of directors, and all of your key personnel, need to get into the upstairs areas,” he said. “I will be the last man between that door,” he said, pointing to the entrance to the stairway, “and you.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Evan,” Zack replied defiantly. “This is our home, and I’m not going to be cowering in an office while everything we built here gets taken away from us. And from the Polis.”
Gabriel looked him in the eye, and finally saw the fire of years ago, the same look his older brother had always had. Memories flashed of Zack taking Gabriel’s bike away from him, of Zack daring him to tell their father when he took the car keys, of Zack leaving for college, and finally of Zack arguing with their father as he announced he was leaving home. Gabriel slowly nodded, giving in to the determination he knew so well.
“Whatever you say, bro,” he replied with a small smile. “Do you have any other weapons here?”
“Not really,” Zack replied, frowning. “Pim sent our only two guns outside with our sentries, and we know how that worked out.”
“Sorry about that,” Sowers called from across the room. “We brought your sentries in, they’re back in their residences, doing fine. Just a couple broken bones. And,” he lowered his voice. “Sorry again about the Poli.” Zack nodded back to him in acknowledgement.
Gabriel reached into a hip pouch on his armor and pulled out a Heckart mag pistol, handing it to Zack. “Take this,” he said, and had his neuretics send a master code to the weapon to allow him to use it. Zack took it from him, holding it lightly and unsurely. It vibrated in his hand at receiving the code, and he nearly dropped it.
“Cripes,” Gabriel said. “You used to use dad’s hunting rifle way back when, right?”
Zack gripped the gun more firmly. “Of course. I’m just, ah, not used to handguns.”
Gabriel frowned, considering whether to take the gun back, then decided to let him at least have a sense of security. Even a false one, a placebo, may help his confidence, and who knows what type of situation they were heading into. Probably a little more dangerous than facing their father after wrecking his Corvette, he thought.
“I’m staying too,” said Vanheel, who had walked up to the two of them. “I’ll help gather the Polis and get our techs into the housing areas, but I’m coming back here when we’re done.” He raised himself on the balls of his feet, not quite coming up to Zack’s height, and still several inches below Gabriel’s. “I need to be here,” he said with a pained look on his face. “I…I helped build this from scratch, with my bare hands.”
Gabriel sighed. “Fine, but you stay with my ensign near the Utilities entry. Ensign Lamber,” he said. “Please provide this man with a sidearm. And,” he added, “keep an eye on him.”
Lamber pulled out a semi-automatic handgun and handed it to Vanheel as he approached.
Gabriel turned to the team, who was waiting expectantly around the holotable. “Okay, people, we’ve got some work to do. Let’s get the civvies to safety and get ready to receive our visitors. Remember,” he said, looking intently at each face in turn. “We need information from them, but not at the cost of any life. Clear?”
He looked around the circle of soldiers, and saw determination in every eye, every look, every grim smile. He’d only known them for five days, but they were good, and with very few exceptions, he trusted them. Then again, he thought, I really have no choice but to trust them.
“Let’s move.”
Chapter 23
“Ah, Mister Santander,” the heavily accented voice spoke over the ship’s intercom.
Santander opened one eye, staring at the overhead mounted speaker above his bunk. Muttering softly, he opened his other eye and rolled his legs off the stiff mattress and onto the uncarpeted floor. For not the first time on this flight, he cursed MacFarland for not sending him and his team on a more refined vessel. Hell, Santander thought, he had been on some ore carriers with better accommodations.
Reaching to the shelf welded to the bulkhead near his cot, he picked up the remnants of last evening’s cigar. He wiped some dust off the business end, stuck it in his mouth, and lit it with flick of a match along the edge of the shelf. Puffing it to life, he blew a few clouds of smoke into the dank cabin air, trying in vain to overpower the stale greasy smell that seeped from every corner of the dilapidated ship.
“Yes, Captain Yao,” he said disdainfully as he straightened his tunic, attempting to smooth the wrinkles it had accumulated during his brief nap.
“Mister Santander, we prepare turn over now. You and team enter shuttle, yes?”
Shuttle, he thought with an inner laugh. Not quite what he had imagined when first hearing the term applied to the dingy vehicle with torn fabric couches, tattered seat belts, and lack of wallscreens. He rose from his seated position and stretched his arms over his head, banging his knuckles into the metal ceiling with another curse.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be there in five minutes.” He clamped his teeth around the cigar and did a quick neuretics scan of the ship. His internal heads-up showed the blue dots indicating his team all headed for the docking bay. He stubbed out the cigar on the shelf, barely conscious of the black stain it created, and tossed it towards the plastic wastebasket in the corner. It thudded off the side and tumbled to the floor in a dusting of burnt tobacco leaves.
With one last glance at the cabin he hoped to not see again for a long time, he walked through the hatch and made his way aft.
He reached the shuttle hatch just as Ran arrived, the others already in the tiny cabin and seated.
“Hello, Q, good nap?” Ran asked.
Santander grunted. “Sooner I get off this bucket of bolts, the better. If all goes according to plan, we can ride home in style.”
Ran smiled as the two of them entered the cabin and took their seats. The door swung shut behind them. “Are we all set on the ground?”
Santander lowered his voice and leaned in towards Ran, who had sat on his right, while Rheaves snored away on his left. “Everything’s in place, Dredge assures me. My life’s in his hands - if his people don’t come through on time, on target, this could get very messy, but he hasn’t let me down yet.”
Ran’s smile faded a bit. “Understood.” He looked over his shoulder to the two rows of seats behind him, where the other three team members sat. “I’m a bit concerned with the numbers. With the size of the team we’re facing, I’d rather go in with a larger advantage.”
“No worries, old friend,” Santander replied. “Those numbers will shift momentarily.” With that he closed his eyes and leaned back into the creaky plastic couch back, signaling the end of that conversation.
Ran cinched his seat belt tighter, the ancient threads stretching and tearing. He closed his eyes as well, and Rheaves’s
loud snoring became a metronome as he prepared for the gravity to kick in.
“Okay, that’s it,” Gabriel said. “The signal from the microsats shows the Chinese ship flipped and should be lighting their engines for decel. We’ve got about 40 minutes before they come out of sensor blackout, so move to your positions.”
The team was assembled in the Operations center, going over last minute preparations. At Gabriel’s announcement, the techs manning the workstations rose almost as one, grabbing coffee mugs, flexscreens, and various personal items, and headed for the door leading to the stairs. Sabra and St. Laurent picked up their Burton cases and headed for the main door, followed closely by Brevik hauling his massive cannon, external batteries and ammo boxes. Behind Brevik was Jimenez with his electronics gear bag.
“Ensign Takahashi,” Gabriel called over the team comm net.
“Here, sir,” the ensign’s voice came back. “We’re all set. The doc’s armed and ready. Matter of fact I think he’s looking forward to a little action.”
Gabriel chuckled. “Just like an Army grunt. Are the natives, er, Polis taken care of?” he asked.
“All of the onsite ones have been moved to the temporary housing areas behind the labs, and we’ve blocked access. Our door is electronically sealed and we’re in protected positions behind it. Anyone trying to come through this way will be in for a nasty surprise. It won’t just be teddy bears waiting for them.”
“Excellent. Keep your heads down, gentlemen,” Gabriel replied.
The door to the corridor opened and allowed the four others to exit. Once the doors closed behind them, Sowers moved to one side and settled in to wait out the next few minutes. Apparently, Gabriel noted, Sowers was the one who had pilfered Brevik’s harmonica on the flight in, and he was now trying to teach himself how to play it. The odd high-pitched wheezing was only slightly disconcerting, so Gabriel let it go.
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