by Daniel Gibbs
“If it’s not, you’re not alive.”
More and more helicars dropped down from the sky, coming to a rest on the street outside of the building; soon there were dozens of police officers facing them down. “I said come out! We will use lethal force and summarily execute anyone who resists!”
David noticed that one of the officers held a hand mic and decided he was the one who was using the loudspeaker to attempt communication. “I’m getting a bit tired of this dude.”
A dark grin crossed his face. I should open the door and shoot him. There was something about the non-lethal rounds that he couldn’t quite get over, almost like they weren’t real. Those thoughts were immediately cut off when gunfire erupted from the phalanx of cops; the windows shattered instantly, raining glass all over the lobby.
“Open fire!” David shouted, sighting down on an exposed officer and firing a single round; one shot, one stun, hah. Calvin’s got to be loving this.
The rest of the nuns took targeted shots, and the Monrovian officers dropped like flies. Over the next thirty seconds, anyone outside the building that wasn’t in good cover was stunned. Eventually, the gunfire stopped, and an eerie calm settled over the lobby. “Sister Kaufman, this is Cohen. We’ve repelled the first attempt at an assault. I expect the real opposition to arrive soon. Suggest we wrap this up as fast as we can.”
“We’re not leaving without the people we came for, Colonel. Hold the line.”
“Yes, ma’am,” David said, exasperation creeping into his voice. He clicked the commlink off and addressed the rest of his squad. “Okay, Sisters, that was a warm-up. We should see some professionals try their hand at rousting us shortly.”
Met with somewhat uneasy silence, David let his weapon drop into its sling for a moment, opened his helmet, and wiped the sweat off his face. Lowering it back into position, he took a swig of water from an in-suit straw and checked the action on his rifle to ensure it was seated correctly and ready to fire. Just as he predicted, the next wave of Monrovians was close at hand. Three vans hovered into view, and he sorely wished that Mother Superior had allowed him to carry rocket launchers; alas, that wasn’t on the list of approved weapons. Out of each helivan, a team of twelve men in combat armor —thankfully, not power armor— raced out with military precision.
As they ran, they opened up with suppressive fire on the lobby. Bullets flew everywhere, ricocheting off metal surfaces, and David felt more than one round smack his armored suit.
The nuns didn’t need an order to fire; they just opened up on anything that moved. Several of the assaulters fell, but unlike the police, these men knew their business. Employing leapfrog tactics, they steadily closed the distance and successfully pinned down most of David’s squad. Seems like a good time for those claymores. He tapped his tablet and triggered the command to fire the first set. Small explosions dotted across the lawn, and a dozen of the attackers fell, writhing on the ground in pain from the electrical shocks that rendered them unable to move outside of uncontrolled spasms. Still, the remaining members of the enemy team kept coming. David waited another couple of seconds and triggered the next group of claymores; another eight or nine—he wasn’t quite sure—collapsed in the grass. The remainder took cover behind the police helicars, and again, an eerie quiet descended.
“Sister Kaufman, now would be a perfect time to get the heck out of here!” David said into his commlink.
“Detainees are secured, Colonel. We’re coming down the stairs now, and I’ve called for evac. Hang tight.”
“Yes, ma’am,” David replied, fighting down his rushing adrenaline.
After what again seemed like an eternity, David heard the sounds of many feet coming down the corridor behind them. He poked his head around and was greatly relieved to see Kaufman, Calvin, dozens of nuns, and the rescued prisoners. “Status, Colonel Cohen?” Kaufman called out.
“Commando teams repulsed, but they hold the area outside of the building. I wouldn’t recommend taking civilians out there until we’ve cleared the area.”
“We’ve got a little surprise for our Monrovian friends,” Kaufman said with a wicked grin.
“Oh?”
“Watch and see. Shuttle one, you are clear to engage.”
Outside of the lobby, David saw the assault shuttle they arrived in vertically hover down into the street. I can’t believe she’d order its rockets used after the extreme care taken so far to avoid casualties. Suddenly, he felt pinpricks all over his body. The effect was like being shocked with low voltages of electricity, something that over the years had happened repeatedly, mainly when he was a bosun’s mate back on the Artemis. He watched in amazement as the cops, commandos, civilians, and anyone else on the street began to run away from the shuttle as fast as they could, the ones closest to it screaming their heads off. The shuttle moved down the road, sweeping people in front of it and clearing the path. More shuttles then dropped out of the sky and landed on the lawn.
“The sisters mounted our area denial weapons to their shuttles,” Calvin explained. “I’d have just lit the place up myself, but they insisted on doing it this way.”
David caught Kaufman rolling her eyes at Calvin, but in a way that belied amusement rather than annoyance to him. “Now we can leave. Any objections, gentlemen?”
“None here, Sister,” David said while glancing around the destroyed lobby. “Squad, on me. If you don’t object, I’ll take point, Sister Kaufman.”
“No objection, Colonel. Take us out.”
The nuns that made up David’s squad stood up with him and darted after him, taking cover behind the helicars that had dozens of dents in them from stun rounds impacting their sides. There was no enemy movement that David could see. “Clear!” he yelled into his commlink.
David looked back to see a crowd exiting from the lobby, covered by nuns in battle armor. Some of the freed prisoners were in such bad shape that sisters were carrying them on their backs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement and swung his head back around. A helivan with the logo of a moving company floated down as he watched, coming to rest in front of a non-descript building two blocks away. What the heck… oh, snap! “Down! Down! Everyone down now!” he started shouting into the comm. Nuns flattened themselves into the turf, slinging the civilians down with them.
There was a blinding light, followed by the dull roar of an explosion; its concussive wave knocked David off his feet, and the only thing that saved him from temporary blindness was his helmet’s UV filters that snapped to ninety-nine percent visible spectrum reduction automatically.
Half stunned, he opened his eyes and saw almost everyone standing had been knocked down, and a cloud of dust was sweeping down the street toward them. “To the shuttles! Now! Move it!” Kaufman voice sounded over the commlink.
Pausing to pick up a civilian that couldn’t walk, David flung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and raced to the nearest shuttle; he returned for another, though the dust made it difficult to see. With the help of his helmet’s infrared sensors, he found another fallen civilian and helped the man stand. By the time he got the man to a shuttle and strapped in, he realized that the nuns had finished the job and were loading themselves up.
David took a seat, strapped in his harness, and spent the trip home trying to figure out what just went wrong.
21
Inside of the command operations tent, Sarno paced. She had been briefed by the strike team leader, Sister Kaufman, during the flight back, and now she was waiting for her senior staff to assemble. Kaufman, David, Amir, and Calvin were the first ones through the flap of the tent. “Greetings, Sister, Colonels.”
“Thank you, Mother Superior.” Kaufman kneeled and reached her right hand up, the index finger pointing toward heaven; the traditional salute of the Sisters.
David and Calvin brought themselves to attention but did not salute.
“Simply put, what happened?”
“We were able to rescue eighty-nine prisoners. However,
we were exfiltrating the area…”
David’s face flushed red with anger. “Someone set off a massive improvised explosive device and brought down half a city block.”
“It’s possible the Monrovians engaged in a false flag exercise to give themselves cover and to sway public opinion against us,” Calvin interjected.
“Those people know no bounds of depravity,” David said.
General Monahan’s face appeared through the tent entrance as he walked in. “I apologize for being late. I was reviewing reports on damage to the government’s military infrastructure.”
“Thank you for joining us, General,” Sarno replied. “We have a bit of a situation here. While thanks to your intelligence, we were able to rescue many high-value prisoners, there was an attack with an explosive-laden hover-van that, in the words of Colonel Cohen, leveled half a city block. I assume the Monrovian government was behind it.”
Monahan, for a brief moment, looked squeamish. “Actually, Mother Superior, that was my network.”
“What?” David demanded, his jaw dropping open.
Sarno’s eyes widened. What have they done? “Explain yourself, General.”
“The building that we hit was the headquarters of Monrovia’s internal security agency. It’s quite secret; you won’t find it on a map, and most citizens have no idea it’s even a government office complex. You cleared the streets for us, and one of my teams moved in. The driver sacrificed himself to ensure the success of the operation, and to prevent the use of remote communication jammers from being effective.”
“Let me get this straight,” David said, his voice rising. “You gave us intel to enable an attack on a detention facility two blocks from a target you turned around and hit with a suicide bomber? Do you realize how many civilians are probably dead?”
“Oh, stow your sanctimonious bullshit, Colonel. You expect me to believe you’ve never killed a civilian, that the CDF has never bombed a school or a hospital from orbit. It’s called collateral damage. It happens. You’ve got to break a few eggs to make an omelet.”
“Sounds like something a Leaguer would say,” Calvin interjected.
“Gentlemen, please. General Monahan, I’m incredibly distressed that you’ve chosen this course. I’m not sure that we can continue to stay here on Monrovia. I will not be a party to the death of innocents through the actions of my order. It’s an affront to all we cherish and the ideals we try to uphold.”
A nun stuck her head into the tent. “Mother Superior, there’s something on the holonet you should see.” At Sarno’s nod, she stepped inside and tuned the holoprojector. A few moments later, it projected the office of Prime Minster Fitzroy.
“Citizens of Monrovia,” Fitzroy said. “Aggressors from the Terran Coalition have invaded our world; this we already know. They’ve staged a campaign across our planet, killing the brave members of our military and first responders, including our heroic police officers. I know you have seen the images they broadcast from the supposed internment camps, showing starving women and children. This could hardly be further from the truth.”
The holoprojector switched projections, showing the attack on the building earlier in the day. “This is what’s happening out there. Religious terrorists, working with these so-called Little Sisters of Divine Recompense, used a suicide attack to destroy a government building filled with office workers today. Over eight hundred people are dead, hundreds more wounded. This is why we voted to suppress religion; its practice brings nothing but hate, repression, and when those who would force the rest of us to believe like them can’t get their way, they start killing people! We must stand up to these murderers…”
“Turn it off!” David barked; Sarno nodded, and the young nun switched the projector off. “You stupid…freaking idiot,” David shouted right in Monahan’s face, his face red as a beet. “We were winning! Not just the war, but the hearts and minds of the people. Now you’ve played right into Fitzroy’s hands. She doesn’t even have to lie or spin it; we just killed hundreds of people with a suicide attack!”
“Again, Colonel, oppressed minorities have used tactics such as this throughout human history. Need I point you back to what happened on Earth before the Exodus?”
“There was a time when people of different religions would kill each other in God’s name,” Amir interjected. “My people used these tactics on Earth. They are abhorrent and detested by Allah. I for one will not fly another mission with this man running the resistance movement.”
We can’t just leave the civilians here to their fate. We have to stay, and we have to figure out how to overcome this misstep. Jehovah Jireh… God will provide. “General, you can no longer be involved with our actions if you wish us to stay.”
“My people are everywhere; you can’t win without us. You need us, Mother Superior.”
“Yes, we do need them. But they now take orders from me, or we’re pulling out first thing in the morning. The choice is yours… choose wisely.”
Monahan made a face. “I will not be blackmailed by the likes of any of you.”
“Are you daft?” David said, his voice still loud. “You’re out. The only hope this action has for continued success is for you to step to the sideline. Give a public statement taking responsibility and absolving the sisters.”
Sarno studied Monahan’s face as it turned an even brighter color of red; he resembled a cornered animal. “I want amnesty for myself and anyone involved in the bombing.”
Ah, he wants a way out. Good. “We’ve no courts to try you, General. You and those involved will face no retribution from us. However, I can make no such promise if the government of Monrovia gets its hands on you. If you stand aside, you will be confined to quarters on this installation until the end of the war.” As she spoke, Sarno noticed that David’s face contorted and seemed to redden even further, if that was possible. The young colonel needs to work on controlling his emotions, she thought.
“I’m not a monster. Simply doing what it takes to win. I’ll agree to your terms, but only if you promise not to surrender my fellows and me to the government.”
“Mother Superior,” David interjected. “Part of this… deal has to be a public statement. I believe the war for the hearts and minds is even more important than the actual armed conflict.”
“I concur, Colonel. Well, General Monahan, what do you say?”
“I’ll go along,” Monahan grated out, clearly upset. “But I don’t think we did anything wrong.”
“Mother Superior, with your permission, I’d like to go find Ms. Dinman and brief her before this gets out of hand further.”
“Granted, Colonel Cohen. The rest of you are dismissed. Sister Kaufman, please place the general under close escort.”
“Yes, Mother Superior,” Kaufman replied respectfully.
Everyone filed out, leaving Sarno alone in the command tent, staring at a large map of the planet’s surface. We’ve done much, but there’s so much left to do here, she thought. Deciding to take some time to pray and consult God, she walked out of the tent, her robes swishing behind her.
“Angie?” David called out as he walked into what he and Calvin had nicknamed “the Comm Shack,” another tent the sisters had set up with a wide array of high-tech communications gear. He paid attention to patterns, and Angie’s habit was to file a report every afternoon. Hopefully, this day won’t be different, and I get to her before she does.
“What do you want, Colonel?” Angie said.
David spotted her off to the side behind a terminal. “I wanted to discuss the situation with you.”
“Save it. I thought… I really thought that you were an honorable man.”
“What are you talking about?” David asked, perplexed at her anger.
“You set up a suicide bombing… I mean, are you stupid or something? You didn’t think the Monrovians would figure it out?”
“It wasn’t us,” David said, his voice tight, anger rising in him at being accused of such a heinous crime.<
br />
“Don’t take me for a fool, Colonel.”
“Angela…listen to me. General Monahan was behind the suicide bombing. Neither I, nor any CDF personnel, nor any of the nuns had advance warning. We were taken by surprise. That’s the truth, and I’d swear it on a Torah.”
“Then you’re an idiot for not realizing he was planning it.”
“Look, I never had a great feeling about the general, but I figured we could work with him. Call it the fog of war. That doesn’t change that this planet is engaged in horrific behavior, and we’ve still got a job to do here.”
“So the ends justify the means?” Angie asked pointedly.
“Never. General Monahan is currently under armed guard and has resigned as the leader of the Monrovian resistance movement. All members now report directly to Mother Superior Sarno.”
Angie looked down at her hands. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Since you arrived on my ship, have I lied to you?”
“You’ve refused to answer my questions on numerous occasions.”
David nodded his agreement. “Yes... but I did so directly, and I never lied. I’ve always tried to be honest with you. Even though quite frankly, I didn’t want you on my ship to begin with, I’ve grown to respect your abilities, and that you report the facts without calling balls and strikes.”
“Balls and strikes?” Angie asked with a confused look.
“Uh, it’s a sports metaphor.”
“Well, it’s lame.” Angie was still red-faced, arms crossed in front of her.
“I want to help these people. That’s why I’m here. The op we went on unfortunately enabled this horrific attack, but we didn’t kill a single person. The sisters are so adamant about saving lives that they re-engineered mines to stun people rather than kill or maim them for life. Incredibly inventive technology, I might add. They’d never do anything like what happened with the truck bomb. And if you don’t know by now that the CDF doesn’t do that…”