by Ricky Sides
“You warned Dad?” Evan asked.
“Of course, and he assured me that he has no intentions of negotiating with a band of renegades who take hostages.”
“Yet, you’re obviously still concerned,” Evan observed.
“Like I said, I know my brother well,” Tim said flatly.
“What can I do to help?”
“Make certain your ship is secure. When it becomes necessary to deploy ground forces, I want you to remain inside. Once they are have deployed, I want your vessel airborne and at maximum altitude, where the raiders can’t possibly gain entry.”
“You’re thinking I might be the target hostage?” Evan asked in surprise.
“I’m thinking that, knowing what we now know, only a handful of people being taken hostage would cause Jim to go Earp, and you are one of them. I’m just covering all bases. I also ordered a security detail to guard Lina until this is resolved, although the Damroyal is probably the safest place in the world to be at the moment. The Peacekeeper will be adhering to the same policy I just outlined for you, as will I.”
“I’ll do as you say. I want to talk to Dad, too.”
“Thank you. I’ll talk to you later then. We are scheduled to commence our attack soon.”
“We’re ten minutes out and closing,” Evan stated, and then he said goodbye.
He spent five minutes talking to Jim who was aboard the Valiant. Jim assured him that he did not intend to negotiate with anyone who took peacekeeper personnel hostage, nor did he plan to offer himself in exchange for hostages.
***
“Damroyal, this is Red leader, we have a downed APC directly below my current location. It appears to have been shot down. There are laser marks on the hull. I see several men gathered around outside the ship.”
“Flight leader, we have you fixed at twenty-seven miles to our south. Have you seen any sign of raider activity in the area?” asked the communications officer aboard the Damroyal.
“Negative, but it’s pitch black here, so that’s not surprising. The low clouds are making visibility problematic.”
“We will be dispatching an APC to pick up the crew. Can you tell if they need medical assistance?”
“I don’t think so, but they could have an injured man in the downed aircraft. Do you want me to descend and ask?”
“Yes, Red leader, but keep your cockpit hatch closed. Security has been tightened tonight.”
“Will do, Damroyal,” the fighter pilot responded. He dropped down to hover just a few feet above the downed APC and communicated with the men. Moments later, he made a report to the Damroyal. The men were a long-range reconnaissance patrol from Washington State. They had been searching for the raider base when they’d been jumped by three fighters that had shot them down and then flown away to the north. They were shaken up, but none of their people was seriously injured.
“Stand by while I confirm their identity. I’m not reading their transponder signal,” the communications officer stated.
“I’m not surprised. After they crashed, it looks as if one of the enemy fighters hit the cockpit with a pulse round. The transponder is probably a melted blob now,” the flight leader explained.
“Understood, flight leader, thank you for the explanation. Please stand by while I check out their story.”
Three minutes later, the communications officer radioed back that Washington State confirmed that they had a missing long-range APC patrol. “Your orders are to stay with them, Red leader. An APC is en route to retrieve them now. ETA, twelve minutes.”
“Roger that, Damroyal. Red leader out,” the pilot confirmed the order. He sent two members of his squadron in a spiral search to ensure that there were no enemies lurking about in the area. That search was to terminate five miles out and return to the crash site.
Speaking to the men on the ground with his external speaker, the flight leader said, “You guys are lucky. From the looks of your APC, it’s a miracle none of you were killed.
“We owe it all to good clean living,” one of the men on the ground shouted back in reply. The men around him thought that was funny.
“Hang in there, guys. The Damroyal has dispatched a rescue APC. They are about ten minutes out.”
Chapter 17
Jim studied the disposition of the peacekeeper forces on a map of the area. It was necessary to cover all possible avenues of escape, so he had the ships arrayed in overlapping areas of responsibility so that not even a rat could leave the base without being detected. Of course, the enemy had enjoyed a grace period of hours between Evan’s raid and the encirclement, and that time could have been used for many of them to escape, but that couldn’t be helped. He hadn’t dared encircle them, while Evan was attempting the rescue, for fear that it would have endangered the success of the mission. Now, the Constitution, the Arizona, the Washington, the Peacekeeper, the Athens, and the Valiant were all arrayed against the base. That six-ship group should be more than a match for the base, but Jim felt something was wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on what was bothering him, but he knew that something was wrong.
The peacekeeper ships hovered seven hundred yards from the defensive weapons in order to minimize the damage should one of the enemy lasers hit the ships. The maximum effective range of the raiders’ energy weapons was five hundred thirty-eight yards, or roughly half that of the main lasers of the ships. The raiders had tried firing at the peacekeepers, but soon stopped when they learned, much to their disgust, that all they could do at that range was make the hulls in the affected area glow a dim red. The attacks actually fed the peacekeeper vessels power, since the beams of energy had diffused by the time they reached their targets, and having lost their focus, they were harmless.
Turning to the monitor, Jim resumed his study of the raider base. The video feed was being supplied by a drone, which was hovering at two hundred feet near the mouth of the bowl. “Where the hell did all of those missing flying cars and trucks go?” he wondered. He knew from the video footage supplied by the Athens that at least forty or fifty of the vehicles that had been there earlier in the day and were now missing. There were two plausible answers, neither of which was good. They could have escaped while he closed the net around the base, or they could be inside the many caves that were scattered throughout the face of the cliffs inside the bowl.
Thanks to the report from Ramon, Jim now knew that the Warlord had been smart enough to study the histories of the many battles that the peacekeepers had fought, and was using that information to his advantage. That meant that he most likely assumed that the peacekeepers would begin the attack by committing their drones to the battle. It’s what they had done upon numerous occasions. Because he knew this, he had to assume that the enemy leader had taken steps to mitigate that strategy. Therefore, he needed another option to open the campaign, which was the reason for the delay.
Jim didn’t want to do the expected. Pete had always told him that the best way to defeat any enemy was to learn how they operate. Once you understand that, it’s a simple matter of finding a way to limit their ability to harm you while you attacked their weaknesses. Therefore, he could ill afford to follow standard battle tactics against this base.
His second option would be to commit his fighters to the battle at the outset, but that strategy was also in the histories, and therefore it was predictable.
His third option would be landing troops on top of the mountain above the entrances to the battlements, but that option was also a poor one. In the wake of the daylight raid Evan had pulled off with the Athens, the raiders were almost certain to be guarding against any sort of penetration of their defenses from that region.
Jim hated doing exactly what the enemy anticipated. In a way, doing that had him playing by their rules. Then an idea slowly began to take shape in his mind, but he needed more information.
Turning to the communications officer, he said, “Get Pol on the radio. I need to ask him a few questions.”
When they finished the
ir discussion, Jim ordered a series of actions, based on Pol’s recommendations.
***
Aboard the Peacekeeper, Patricia painstakingly worked out firing solutions for each ship in their little armada. Then she coordinated the vectoring for the drones and fighters based on those firing solutions. Patricia was uncharacteristically nervous about the plan. Her calculations were critical, because even the minutest of errors could result in disaster. When she finished her work, Patricia asked Pol to double check her math, which she had already checked three times.
Pol dutifully checked the computations, and then he ran the scenario through his simulator. The simulation ran smoothly. Assuming that all of the ships fired the specified weapons at precisely the times and for the durations that they were supposed to do so, the plan would work.
Next, Patricia prepared a detailed explanation, which she sent to the captains, the gunners of the armada, the fighter pilots, and the drone operators.
An hour after Jim had issued the orders to form the plan, the preparation stages had been completed, and they were ready to commence the attack.
***
“Do you think they are waiting for daybreak to attack?” asked one of the base defensive gunners. He was speaking to his assistant who would help keep the ammunition coming to the big fifty caliber machinegun.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like this waiting. Just look at them out there hovering. They are so damned big, they blot out the stars.”
“Are you afraid of them?” asked the gunner incredulously.
“I’ve seen what those things can do with my own eyes, mate. Hell yes, I’m afraid. You’d be too if you’d seen them ravage a fleet of ships at sea.”
“Yeah, well, they must not be so bad. You’re here aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I made it. I jumped off my ship when I saw them heading toward us. We called our ship the Fair Wind. We had a crew of forty-seven. I’m the only man alive who ever sailed on her decks. She’s at the bottom of the North Atlantic now. Just one of those ships out there took her to the bottom, along with another twenty-six ships and crews that night,” the man said in a low-pitched tone of voice. His eyes had a glassy look, as if he were remembering the past.
“You thinking that same ship’s out there in the sky.”
“Yeah, it’s out there alright. I saw the devil when it flew up and took its position with the others. I’ll never forget its silhouette.”
“Point it out to me. I’ll shoot it down for you when the fighting starts.”
The assistant laughed and said, “I’ll show you for all the good it’ll do, but you’ll not take her down. Not with this peashooter. I’ve seen her hull take on antiaircraft fire a lot bigger than this and she wasn’t even fazed.”
“Show me then. I’ll prove you wrong,” the gunner stated with smug confidence.
The man pointed toward one of the smaller silhouettes.
“What? Why, that isn’t even one of the biggest ships. The way you were talking, I figured it had to be the biggest.”
“No, it’s not that one, but I have seen that ship attacking the fleet too. It has a laser that can fire hundreds, maybe even thousands of little laser beams. It raked the entire deck of the ship it attacked. That started fires all over the place. Then they dropped a few bombs amidships and broke her in half and not a man aboard lived to tell of it.”
“I think you’re just trying to scare me with all these wild tales. You’ll see. When the word comes to fire, I aim to shoot down one or two of those things.”
“Yeah, well good luck with that. Me, I reckon I’ll be joining my mates from the Fair Wind in death before this is over.”
***
Aboard the Damroyal, the rescue APC came in for a landing. When the seven men of the crew emerged from the APC, they were escorted toward the flight deck exit by one of the crewmen. He stopped at a screened in window. “You’ll have to check your weapons here. No firearms are permitted aboard the Damroyal with the exception of the ranking staff members and security forces.”
Some of the men looked uncomfortable, but their pilot said, “I understand. That’s not a problem.” He placed his rifle and pistol on the top of the work shelf. Dutifully, the clerk recorded the serial numbers on a form and had the man sign it. He then separated the two copies, keeping the white and handing the yellow copy to the visitor. The entire transaction took less than a minute.
The rest of his crew followed suit, and soon they were walking down the hall. “I’m supposed to take you to the infirmary to get checked out by the medical staff,” their guide explained.
“This is a big ship. It reminds me of a supertanker,” one of the men observed.
“The Damroyal is the biggest peacekeeper vessel ever constructed. At five hundred feet wide by twelve hundred feet long, it’s a floating city,” their guide proudly explained.
“It must be hard to get in with this crew. Everyone must want a slot on this ship,” observed one of the men.
“Yeah, it’s pretty tough. Only the top five percent are even considered for a berth on this ship, because it’s like you said, everyone wants to sign up to be on this crew.”
“You’ll have some openings soon,” the pilot of the downed APC assured his guide.
“Yeah? Well, you must know something I don’t know,” the crewman stated. “What’s going to happen?”
“I’m afraid I can’t say at the moment. It’s a secret,” the man explained.
“Oh, well... I’m sorry, but I forgot your name, buddy.”
“Bruno,” the man replied.
“Well, Bruno, when you can talk about it, send me a message. I like to know what’s going on aboard my ship.”
“I’ll do that. You’ll know before the night is over,” Bruno promised.
***
“Come on Maggie, have a heart,” Ralph complained.
“Even if I released you, you can’t get to the ship. They’ve left two hours ago. The Athens is with the rest of the air group. By now they are probably already fighting the enemy base.”
“This just isn’t fair. My team will need me. I know you can arrange a transport to get me to the Athens.”
“Can you fly and navigate a fighter? I ask, because that’s the only way you could possibly get into the Athens until they land to deploy troops. You know the captain can’t break formation to land and take you aboard,” Maggie impatiently explained. “Besides,” she added peevishly, “I never said you were fit for duty. In my opinion you aren’t. Not yet anyway. I won’t have you bullying the nurses anymore. Now pipe down in here or I’ll have you sedated,” she threatened.
“So I have to stay here all night?” Ralph asked.
“Yes.”
“Someone took my weapon,” he carped, referring to his side arm, which as a command grade officer, he had the right to possess aboard the Damroyal.
“I had it put in the closet, along with the rest of your stuff. I know how you strike team leaders are about your pistols and other gear. Pete was the same way,” Maggie stated with a grin. “That man couldn’t sleep a wink if he didn’t know exactly where his pistol was located.”
Moving to the small closet, she opened the door, and pointed to the pistol, holstered and attached his web belt. He even saw that the spare magazine pouch was attached to the belt. “The orderly had to unscrew the silencer to get everything to fit in the closet because they are so narrow, but, it’s all here.”
“I need to clean it, Maggie. I fired it several times during the mission.”
Maggie rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, but she wasn’t really angry. Pete had been the same when it came to his pistol. Men like Pete and Ralph counted on the functional reliability of their weapons. Worrying about whether or not it was clean enough would keep Ralph from resting. She saw no harm in handing him the firearm and a clean white cotton rag. “I suppose you want cleaning solvent and some oil too,” she said sarcastically.
“Would you?”
“No,” Maggie sa
id with a beatific smile on her face.
“You’re mean,” Ralph said, but he said it with a boyish grin to let her know he was kidding.
“I’ll come see you in the morning. By now, the men from the APC that was shot down will be here, and I need to make certain they are in good condition.” Pausing, she added, “You did a great thing today, Sergeant Maroney. Something that Pete might have done had he been living. I’m impressed. We all are,” she added, and then she took a folded rag from the pocket of her lab coat and placed it in Ralph’s hand. When he unfolded the rag, he saw two tiny bottles. One was clearly labeled solvent, and the other was labeled gun oil. Maggie had known he’d want the materials and taken a moment to get them for him, just as she had often done for Pete.
“Thank you, Doctor. You’re an angel.”
“Yeah, right. Give a man what he wants, and suddenly you’re an angel. But deny him what he desires and you’re mean,” Maggie carped with an amused twinkle in her eyes. “Lights out and rest in twenty minutes soldier,” she ordered, and then she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
Ralph contentedly went to work. He had to use a pencil he found in the nightstand drawer to act as a cleaning rod, but soon he had the weapon as clean as he could get it with the makeshift cleaning kit. When he was finished, he chambered a round and flicked on the safety. Getting out of bed, he went to the closet and got out his uniform. Working quickly, he put on his pants, t-shirt, and socks because he didn’t like being in the infirmary in his boxers.