ROARING TIGER
Mars’ orbit
In the near future, Year 4, Day 178
COLONEL TSU CHAFED at the daily regimen his American incarcerators had dictated to him and his staff. At first, he had hoped to be able to liberate his ship, especially once the Divine Dragon arrived, but as the days wore on he felt that the enemy had accounted for every variable.
Every variable except one.
The loss of Commander Sun was most unfortunate. The man appeared to have had a blood clot develop and lodge in a part of his lung that had caused the man a serious shortness of breath. He had turned pale and was taken to the American ship for diagnosis and treatment, as his condition had deteriorated beyond the ability of their own trained medic to treat.
The American doctor had informed them that Commander Sun had experienced a pulmonary embolism and was currently in stable condition. At first Tsu accepted that, but as he became more suspicious of Commander Sun, and never having trusted the Americans, he wondered if the entire scenario was a subterfuge for interrogating the man, or worse, if Sun had turned traitor—or if he’d been a traitor the whole time.
Colonel Tsu had only one advantage and he’d decided to use it over a day earlier. The colonel had tried to sabotage their own waste removal unit in the main cabin area in order to gain access to the sole remaining one located in engineering; however, his chief engineer was too good at doing his job and, each time, Engineer Gao managed to restore the unit to service under the watchful eye of a US Navy SEAL.
It took part talk, part sign language to get Engineer Gao to understand that he was not to fix the environmental unit the next time it malfunctioned. Once understood, he managed to disable it to such a degree that even the Americans couldn’t fix it. This left them with only one option—the use of their second and only remaining functional unit in the engineering section of their ship.
The SEALs kept them confined to their own centrifuge unit, which was self-contained, one door in and out. Tsu found it ironic that their own apparatus, designed to fight the effects of zero-g, was used to restrict him and his crew within their own ship. The bastard Americans had also wasted lander fuel to bring the body of Lieutenant Yang back to their ship. His body was currently wrapped in a NASA body bag and stored within the insulating, empty space of the Roaring Tiger’s outer and inner hull, a place which kept the man’s body frozen. Sergeant Ma had been returned as well and incarcerated with them. They were all cramped.
Tsu pounded on the door again and watched as an American SEAL brought his face up to the round porthole and hit the intercom switch. “What is it, Colonel?”
The man’s tone was impertinent, but his words showed a modicum of military respect for his own rank. At least the man’s commanding officer was an honorable warrior, despite fighting for the enemy. “I must use facility,” Tsu said in broken and halting English. Any conversation of any meaning was not possible with their language differences. One SEAL did speak fluent Mandarin, but he was off duty at this time, and this Petty Officer Murphy barely spoke English, or so Tsu thought.
“What, again?” Murphy asked through the com system.
Tsu nodded, but did not speak.
“Wait a second then, Colonel—you know the protocol.”
THE SEAL TURNED AWAY so Colonel Tsu couldn’t see what he was doing. The man hit his PTT—push to talk. “Murphy to Carter.”
“Go for Carter,”
“Major, sorry to disturb you, but the Colonel seems to be having one of his Exlax moments again.”
Carter was also grateful for having their own dedicated radio frequency, during moments like this. “You know the drill; execute the appropriate security protocols and stand by for your go.”
“Roger that, Major,” Murphy said, ending his transmission and beginning his security sweep of the Chinese ship. The goal was to see if any systems could be tampered with from inside the centrifugal module. Despite their twenty-four-hour surveillance via a small camera mounted at the view port, the Americans were taking no chances with their Chinese counterparts.
“Carter to Flores.”
“Flores here, Major.”
“Suit up and stand by for security protocol Delta.”
Flores’ sigh was audible, “Again?”
“Yes, it appears the colonel is restless. Let’s not make this longer or harder than it has to be. We have activity at Bravo Target and I’m putting us on alert. The Soviets could go at any time, so let’s get this over with.”
“Affirm,” Flores said. “Suiting up in five.” It was purely ceremonial. With the arrival of the Soviet ship, the SEAL team was on immediate alert and ready for action. They had even slept in their EVA suits the last night, with only their helmets and gloves off.
Carter heard Doctor Hill’s voice come over the main ship’s channel. “Is everything all right, Major Carter?”
“It is, Doctor.”
“Let me know if you require any assistance.”
Carter, unlike Flores, held his breath so as not to sigh and said, “Understood, Doctor; we’ll let you know if we need you.”
“Roger that.”
Petty Officer Anderson leaned over and said, “Major Carter, do you think he was listening again?”
Carter shrugged. “Maybe.” He was at their military command post located near the airlocks to the Red Horizon’s main cabins. From there, he could command both their military communications and the hardware under his supervision.
Flores was on duty while Petty Officer Jackson was still in the medical bay recuperating from his abdomen injury, along with the Chinese commander. Lieutenant Harris had only come out of their concussion protocol the day prior and was off duty but ready to go.
“You know, moving us this far away from the Chinese ship has been a real pain in the ass with shift changes,” Petty Officer Anderson commented.
“It couldn’t be helped,” Carter said. “We can’t allow the Chinese to nuke us both with only one missile.”
Anderson smiled at the old-fashioned term that his commanding officer used to describe the Soviets. The Red Horizon had moved into a much higher orbit and was now a good kilometer away from the Roaring Tiger. This made ship-to-ship transfers more difficult, not to mention more time consuming. The term “nuke” was also an exaggeration, as the distance between the ships would not be enough to overcome an atomic blast. In fact, the latest intel indicated a high degree of probability that the Soviet ship wasn’t carrying a nuclear warhead at all.
“It was bold to move us all ship-side,” Anderson noted. “Was that part of the scenarios?”
“That was my decision, Anderson. The dynamics are different enough that I fear a ship-to-ship action more than something going planetside. Besides, our civvy science officer seems to have full command and control over the aliens’ airlock doors.”
“She sure does,” Anderson said, having watched Science Officer Maria Mayer exercise the doors to the construct dozens of times as she sought to find a way to open the inner construct for inspection.
“Though I wasn’t expecting to still be sitting on our hands seventy-two hours later,” Carter mumbled.
“I agree with you there, Major. What was the Admiral’s Intel Team thinking when they came up with these scenarios?”
Carter looked at his soldier and nodded slightly. “Admiral Nicholson’s team probably could have benefited from more pragmatic science and less military tactical training. I don’t believe the current situation was accurately reflected in the simulations and table top exercises that we performed.”
“Command Scenario Zulu,” Anderson said, emphasizing the last word. “They had to have thought of this one last.”
“And put the least amount of resources to it,” Carter agreed. “We need to maintain this state of readiness for just a bit longer; then we can release the Chinese and get back to our primary mission.”
“I don’t trust them.”
“Neither do I,” Carter agreed again. “But it’s not like we can strand them
on the planet or simply evac them into space. We don’t do things like that.”
Another transmission came across the main radio channel: “Commander Sullivan.”
“Dave, I’m here. Go ahead,” Neil said, less formally.
“Commander, repairs to the cowling on engine two are complete. The Horizon is good to go.”
“Roger, Dakos,” Neil said, responding to the good news with a formal acknowledgement. “Engine two repairs are complete and ready for operations at 15:34 hours.”
“Affirm,” Dave said.
“Well, that’s some good news,” Anderson said to Carter.
“It is, though I was expecting that sooner.” He held up a finger to stop Anderson from responding further and activated his primary radio transmitter. “Commander Sullivan, can you confirm your readiness on Red Two?”
Neil came back quickly, “Affirmative, Major. I’m suited up in Red Two, ready for immediate launch if necessary. Are you expecting something?”
“Negative,” Carter stated, then explained further: “I will say, however, that the Soviets can see what we’re seeing, and if they think we have access to the alien station then now would be an opportune time for them to mobilize.”
“I agree with you there,” Neil said. “I’m ready as well, so give the word if you see activity on the Red Star.”
“Will do, Commander.”
“Murphy to Carter.”
“Go for Carter.”
“Sweep clear. I’ll have to take him back to the engineering latrine, though, so you’ll have the duty.”
“Authorization to open granted,” Carter said. “We have the ball on surveil. Go with the extraction and maintain security protocol.”
Anderson flipped his switch, replacing the infrared images of the Martian surface and bringing the image from their mini-cam on the Roaring Tiger onto their main display. They had Dakos, their mechanical engineer, rig a secondary physical stop behind the door to the centrifuge on board the Chinese ship after commandeering it. This allowed the SEALs to open the door and have their charges put their hands through the crack in the door in order to restrain them. This time their procedures would be tested to their limits.
ROARING TIGER
Mars’ orbit
In the near future, Year 4, Day 178
THE DOOR OPENED WITH a clang as the latch struck home and the mechanical doorstop banged in protest at the weight and mass being directed at it. “Let’s go, Colonel.” Murphy said, motioning towards himself.
Colonel Tsu nodded at his companions in understanding and moved to the door, putting both hands and wrists through the slight crack. Murphy latched a set of ceramic and plastic restraints to each wrist, locking them into place.
“Ready,” Tsu said, his accent heavy.
“All clear to open,” Anderson said from on board the American ship. The other crew members were against the far wall a good distance away.
Murphy used his foot to engage the mechanical stop and it slid down on its spring-loaded lever, ready to come back up with a remote signal from the ship or Murphy’s handheld remote. He pulled the colonel quickly out in the zero-g environment and the door clanged shut behind them. “You first,” Murphy said, giving the man a nudge in the small of his back with his handheld electrical stun gun.
They had a long way to go as they moved down the main corridor to the engineering section, which was nothing more than aluminum bracing that looked like scaffolding. They had to pass through an airlock door that was used for emergency depressurizations and then a good forty feet till they reached another door and the cabin area of the Chinese engineering section.
It was large enough to fit three or four people comfortably and had a lone latrine that rivaled a small airline restroom in size. Tsu went to the door and opened it, then waited with his hands out. The SEAL would cuff one hand to an inside railing before releasing the other to allow the astronaut to do his duty.
This was always the most dangerous time for any action, as the two would be in close proximity to one another and otherwise occupied. Normally, the SEALs would use two guards at a time, but with both Jackson and Harris out on medical, they didn’t have the manpower to do so, especially with the arrival of the Soviets.
“No funny business,” Murphy said, narrowing his eyes at the Chinese colonel, who only smiled back at him. He unlocked one of the colonel’s hands and secured it to the inner railing.
When he looked back up, he was immediately struck in the chest with the sole of Colonel Tsu’s boot.
The Chinese officer kicked him backwards into the main engineering console opposite the latrine.
Tsu was tethered to the railing and could go nowhere and do almost nothing. He managed to use his one free hand to slap the comms button on the wall right next to the door—it swung open lazily and Tsu hit both the transmit and ship-wide buttons simultaneously.
“Wèile guójiā hé róngyù,” he said. “For country and honor.”
The entire ship heard his transmission. The relay that had been installed also broadcast it over the command channel of the Red Horizon. Lieutenant Harris was off duty and was supposed to be sleeping, but he was awake, and he heard the transmission, too.
He was only able to say only one word before the transmission ceased. “No.”
Tsu smiled at Murphy, who arrested his momentum against the engineering console and held the stun gun out in front of him, ready to subdue the colonel. Tsu withdrew into the latrine at the very back and then activated the explosive primer on the C4 pack built into his suit.
The amount of the explosive was relatively small—only enough to kill himself and the US Navy SEAL—but at the rear of the engineering compartment, right behind the environmental station, were the secondary fuel and oxygen tanks for the Roaring Tiger.
He had chosen the one location he could use their fuel source to enhance his explosion.
The force of the C4 explosive ripped Colonel Tsu to shreds as well as the lightweight plastic and aluminum framing that held the environmental station in place. The force of the blast sent shrapnel into Petty Officer Murphy, killing him instantly. The rear tanks fractured, then cracked, mixing rocket propellent with liquid oxygen—highly volatile fuel and a healthy oxidizing source. The resulting fireball incinerated the entire ship within milliseconds.
The Roaring Tiger ceased to exist.
Chapter 2
Facts, Theories & Suspicions
THE WHITE HOUSE
Washington, DC
In the near future, Year 4, Day 178
THE MEETING HAD CONVENED without the president, though on her orders. President Gloria Powers would be there shortly but, as her chief of staff informed the attendees, she had an urgent call to take from the Soviet Premier.
Much had transpired in the last three days, and Rock found himself once again in the White House briefing room with his senior staff and their NSA liaison officer, Mister Smith. There had been quite a bit of contention between the military officers and even the secretaries for two of the branches of the armed forces, as well as the military intelligence community, headed by the Director of National Security, David Rose. Rock was more than happy to stay out of that one.
“You’re sure there’s no scientific data to corroborate the Chinese attack?” Mister Smith asked, leaning over to Rock to be heard over the other parties at the table, who were in a heated debate. Rock noticed the man had ensured their seats would be together after the last round of musical chairs that Marge had overseen had backfired on Smith.
“You have all our reports and the raw data we managed to pull from both our research, and Doctor Navari’s,” Rock said.
Looking the other way, he received that particular expression from Marge that indicated her normal impatience with the bureaucratic process. Lisa and Jack were seated behind them, against the wall this time, as the conference room could only handle so many at the table. The executive branch had decided to have a representative of almost every branch of government at this
meeting, so it was more crowded than normal.
Marge also leaned towards him to be heard. “When can we present?”
She referred to presenting her recent findings regarding the genetic code that she and Navari had collaborated on. The president and her staff already had their initial report, as well as reports from the intelligence agencies, but Marge was anxious to stress the importance of what they had found.
“As soon as we’re called on,” Rock said, shrugging and wishing he could be of more help.
He heard Jack and Lisa whispering behind him and he turned back to see that Mister Smith hadn’t taken his eyes off of him. Before either could speak further, the president’s aide came through the rear door and announced, “All rise for the President of the United States.”
Everyone in the room stood and quickly hushed as President Powers entered and walked over to her seat. Continuing to stand, she scanned the room, and Rock noticed two officials had to catch themselves in the middle of sitting back down, caught off guard by how she remained standing.
The silence continued for a few seconds longer until Powers finally took her seat. Noise resumed as everyone else did the same.
“We have a lot to cover and little time to do so,” she began. “You’ll be happy to know that the ceasefire between the Soviet Union and the People’s Republic of China has been successfully implemented.”
There was a murmur around the table before the Secretary of Defense, James Albert, spoke. “The Chinese contest that there were even hostilities between the two. Have you confirmed this, Madam President?”
“I did,” Powers said. “Premier Kolik was open enough to share intel that provided us insight into the Chinese activities along the Soviet border for the past three days.”
“We haven’t seen this level of conflict between those two since the Soviet-Sino conflict in 1969,” the Joint Chief of Staff said. “What details were you able to secure from the Soviet leader?”
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