by Chris Hechtl
“Well shave me bald and call me a pinky,” Elliot said softly. “The cavalry has arrived. Maybe,” he said, suspicious. He climbed the tree in time to see a Lagroose Industries security aircraft near. He looked, grinning from ear to ear. He was ready to expose himself but pinged the aircraft first. He didn't want to get shot up by his own people in a friendly fire incident. When he got a good look at the VTOL, he frowned, fur rising again, and this time not because of the stirred-up wind. “Hey wait a minute, when did we have that model?” he murmured as it passed over head.
Answer, we don't, he thought. He hunched down, very aware of his thermal profile but not able to do a damned thing about it as he saw the chopper turn on his signal and come back at him. His eyes widened. “Oh shit.”
“Oh shit, oh shit,” he repeated over and over in a mantra as he squealed and dropped through the canopy to the ground. His landing made him twist his ankle, but he managed to limp out of the way. He spooked some deer and a big cat into full retreat with one good snarl.
He found the hill and slid down a mud slide to a croc hole. He avoided the snapping jaws and got to the other side and out. The croc thrashed at him but was apparently just startled. Still, he climbed through the roots avoiding the croc, then up the tree.
Meanwhile the chopper had gone after the deer. Looking down, Elliot sighed in relief, then saw himself covered in mud. He was amused by the dripping muck. He gathered up a handful off his chest and then flung some off, then some towards enemy.
He regretted loosing weapons though. That sucked. Back to square one again, he thought with a heavy sigh.
<0>~^~<0>
Elliot's distress signal was bounced around the net before it was picked up by a friendly AI. Gaia processed it, noted it was someone that Lagroose was looking for, put it together with the news alert of missing Neos, and then forwarded it and the tower locations the signal originated from to Lagroose security. Roman immediately called in air support.
He had followed Elliot from the beginning. He had a hundred specially trained tactical agents ready to deploy. It wasn't their first door knock, but it could and probably would be their most intense. Jack had been serious about training for such things; now all that training and money was going to be put to the test.
He didn't give a damn about the money. He cared about his people. He wasn't certain if he'd lose anyone, possibly, though he hoped not. One in particular would haunt him if he found him dead. “Hang in there, Elliot; we're coming,” he murmured as he boarded the blacked-out drop shuttle.
<0>~^~<0>
Gaia noted the shuttles drop but did nothing about it to alert the UN authorities. Such was not a concern of the AI she had been told. Besides, Lagroose had a good track record for taking care of their own. She watched the shuttles until their stealth kicked in, and they dropped off her weather radar over Africa.
<0>~^~<0>
The chimp saw Lagroose security do a drop right over the area at night. He'd been up, awake due to his damned ankle. He'd aggravated the injury while climbing a tree to get at a bush baby, but the little bastard had jumped to an adjoining tree and escaped. Instead of climbing down and going after other prey, Elliot had decided to hunker down for the night.
He hooted softly when he saw the black parachutes. He grinned savagely when he got the ping. “About fracken time. Lady Luck has finally smiled my way,” he murmured just as the chalet lit up like it was Christmas.
Men and women rushed outside as the blacked-out agents cut their chutes and dropped the last two or three meters. Weapons fired on the security troops, so they returned fire. Elliot grimaced; he could see the sparks of weapons fire but couldn't do anything about it. Not that he should he realized. He had his IFF but there was always a friendly fire incident that would ruin his day. No, now was not the time to play soldier. Tempting though.
His brown eyes watched gleefully as drones on either side were destroyed. He winced when some of the Lagroose troops went down. “Fuck me,” he murmured, hoping their body armor had caught the majority of the fire. A few of the grunts got back up again … but a few didn't. When they stormed the chalet, he knew the enemy was done for despite the occasional sparkle of distant weapons fire.
Elliot couldn't help himself; he cheered and hooted for all he was worth when the second wave landed in a shuttle ten minutes later. "The cavalry has arrived! It's about damn time!"
Carefully he climbed down the tree, and then came out of bush. A gorilla teased him about the look; he was still covered in branches and mud. He ignored the occasional ribbing. A few of the apes fell silent and just gave him a nod in passing. He nodded back, meeting a few eyes. They saw the grimness there, and a few turned savage looks on the prisoners. He gripped Stone's shoulder in passing. The wounded man nodded and shook his hand, then winced when the attending medic tightened the dressing on his thigh. Elliot moved on.
Elliot had to knuckle walk due to his injured foot and that embarrassed the shit out of him, but he did it anyway. He snarled his canines at the prisoners in passing. A few flinched.
"So, you here on vacation?" Roman asked, nodding his chin to him. Elliot stood with a groan on his good leg.
"Oh yeah, loads of fun. Just shits and giggles all day long. A camp-out," he mock chuffed, eying Roman. "Took you long enough," he growled.
"We were delayed. Air space, traffic control," Roman replied and then shrugged as he eyed the Neochimp. "That and we didn't have a fix on you until your ping. I thought I'd lost you."
"I see. Thanks for caring." Elliot made a face. “The beanstalk?”
“It was all part of your cover,” Roman deadpanned.
Elliot snorted. “Yeah, right.” Elliot frowned. “So you were tracking me. Right from the start?”
"From the moment you left my office. Everyone you talked to; everyone who watched you. You didn't need to check in, but it helped us get an idea of your frame of mind and if you had seen something our watchers had missed.” He grimaced. “We did lose you when they snatched you and don't think I didn't rip some people for that one,” Roman stated.
Elliot grinned slightly. He could just imagine Ace or one of the others getting a new pucker hole. It left him with a warm fuzzy feeling.
Roman eyed him some more and then shook his head. “You don't look too much worse for the wear. Shit lucky. You're lucky the Gaia AI picked it up at all," Roman said.
Elliot blinked. Gaia? Apparently Roman had called in some favors to cover his ass. "Okay."
"Need a bath?"
"Hell, yes! A beer, a shower, and I'm so done with fruit,” Elliot said in such a disgusted tone Roman couldn't help but crack a rare real smile. “I've shit myself silly. Pass on the banana," he said. Roman smiled politely. The chimp turned cold hating eyes to the bastards who'd hunted him. All had their hands on their heads. "What about them?" he asked, nodding his chin to the group.
Trevor shook his head. He didn't like what was going to happen, but giving them a pass was the only thing he could. They could go public, but the powers that be weren't happy with that idea. "We'll figure it out. Go get cleaned up."
Elliot shook his head. That sounded too much like a cover-up, and he couldn't let that stand. "No. I want to know. They killed a lot of my people. They treated us like animals. They are the animals," he said, pointing an accusing finger at the prisoners.
Roman shook his head, looking at the other Neos in the group. "Unfortunately, they are out of our jurisdiction."
“Moreau bastard. You think you've won?" a hunter spat. He grunted as a Gorilla in armor looked at him and bared her teeth. "Think you're so tough in armor. You’re just a bunch of grubby animals! I'll put you in your place! Moreaus all of you!"
Elliot snarled, showing his canines. “Don't. Ever. Call. Us. That,” he bit out. Another chimp with his fur up snarled as well. A few of the primates snarled in answering anger or growled low.
“Fuck you. You can't touch us. We are important people. I'm a US senator for Christ's sake!”
Elliot turned
cold brown eyes to his boss. “Is that true?”
Roman nodded tiredly. “We've confirmed his identity. His security detail was killed.”
“And you'll pay for that,” the bruised senator spat, standing erect and dropping his hands. Elliot looked from him to the other captives. All suddenly seemed relieved or smug. He turned to Roman and saw a hint of defeat in the man's features. No, he couldn't let it stand. He wouldn't let it stand.
"So, the only justice is the one we make for ourselves? Is that what you are telling me?" The chimp asked, fur rising once more. He looked around to other Neos. They too were angry. An ugly mutter sounded.
Roman spread his hands in appeal. He realized the Neos were close to a mob, and he didn't want that sort of blood of a lynch mob on his hands. In this situation it would be decidedly ugly for both them and the company. Possibly catastrophic. "Look people, you know the risks. We can't do anything about this."
"Oh no?" the chimp asked, showing his long canines. He looked at the hosts. "Strip ‘em naked and give them a head start. You can go. We'll deal with them," he said, turning his back to the human.
"Are you serious? We can't …," a guard said, eyes wide. Roman put a hand up. He studied the chimp. Elliot looked over his shoulder to him, but it was clear he wasn't backing down. Finally he nodded. "No witnesses."
"Fine. We'll even do it hand to hand," the chimp said, making a show of cracking his knuckles. A few of the gorillas and chimps chuffed and started stripping gear off. The orangutan hesitated but then shrugged and did the same.
The woman whimpered; her eyes wide in fright. "You can't do this! We're … we're human beings! It's not right!"
"Tell that to my friends you hunted and butchered," the chimp snarled. He bared his teeth as a gorilla slapped his chest and then roared. They suddenly smelled the scent of human urine. It wasn't just from the former hunters; a few of the Lagroose security agents were also terrified. Good, Elliot thought with a dismissive thought. It would do them a world of good. Respect had to be earned, he thought, and sometimes a good healthy dose of fear was the way to do it.
"Go, you've got a five-minute head start," the chimp ordered. When the humans hesitated, he charged them. "I said go!" he roared. They turned and fled.
"We'll give you forty-eight hours, Elliot. Be done by then," Trevor stated.
"That's fine. That's more than enough," the chimp said almost distractedly, eying the other Neos. He used hand signs to wave the others out. They nodded curtly once, and then began to move out grimly.
"Wait, I thought you said five minutes?" Roman asked, now confused and concerned.
"I'm not a sportsman. I lied," the chimp said as he moved off. "Besides, it's not like they have any right to complain," he said absently over his shoulder. "Make it twenty-four hours, maybe less,” he said as Roman gulped. He was glad he'd finally scared his own boss. “Olly olly oxen free … time to come out and play …," he singsonged softly as he turned back to the jungle.
The End
Bumper and Boomer
August 2, 2199
Sergeant Major Neal of the 1st Explosive Ordnance Disposal Company, 7th Engineer Support Battalion, Combat Logistics Regiment 1, 1st Marine Logistics Group, had problems with theft and terrorist activity in his area of operations. It was just one of those things that his people couldn't get a handle on, no matter how hard they tried. Ever since they'd left Pendleton, it had been like a tick biting his unit's ass and sucking the blood out of it.
It didn't look good for the brass and noncoms either. They knew it; they knew some heads would roll if they didn't start getting some results soon. The MPs were already feeling the heat, but soon it would rise up the ranks to others. He personally didn't want a hot foot from some stupid petty theft or some of the more overt theft going on.
When the MPs came up dry, the general called in some favors and ordered an experimental unit to be tasked, which was where the current headaches came in. One of many James thought with a scowl. It wasn't bad enough that they had to handle all sorts of shit in their AO. But … he shook his head as he watched the reps and dog get off the bird. The loadmaster looked around and then pointed to the sergeant major standing near the taxiway. The two humans nodded and then headed over to him with the mutt following along behind.
The unit had been in operation since 1950. They were coming up on their 250th anniversary, and he'd thought they were going to be rotated home for it. But there was nothing in the order pipeline. Other units had gotten their time off, gotten their time to shine, but apparently they were too vital, too important to let them off the hook.
The world was still spinning, though sometimes it felt like it was spinning out of control. He knew better; it was just that appearance when you got too close to the chaos, too close to the action, or got too much of the news in one sitting. When you stepped out of it and relaxed, letting go of your expectations, things returned to normal in time. All they needed was time.
Even when he thought the world really should go to hell in a handbasket, Sergeant Major James Neal thought. He liked everything neat and tidy, everything and everyone in their place, a smooth clockwork of a machine. Now what the hell was he expected to do with this cock-up? He shook his head in exasperation. Make it work obviously; that was what the general expected. But how? And for how long?
There couldn't be anything on digital record or on paper, which complicated things … and in some ways simplified it. If anything blew up, he wouldn't have anything to cover his ass, but he could always deny he hadn't seen a thing—or sweep it all under the rug … if it wasn't a spectacular blowup. Since the NDA crap had come from corporate and the brass, he was pretty sure it wouldn't go public.
The sergeant major shook his head as he stood there and witnessed a pair of Lagroose Industries reps drop off a large Chow mix mutt. He shook hands with one of the reps, immediately forgetting the guy's name. “This is Bumper. We're not going to be here long; our ride is waiting,” he said, indicating the shuttle behind him. He indicated the reddish colored dog. “He's a smart one. You'll have your hands full with him. But he's not a normal dog.”
“I can see that,” the sergeant major said, turning to the dog. He had a butt ugly head, most likely due to whatever damned tinkering the Lagroose eggheads had done. He was some sort of Chow mix, but he was pretty sure there was more to him than that. According to the noncom grapevine, these dogs were gene-engineered wunderkinds. Great, that was all he needed, he thought with a snort of derision.
The dog cocked his head at him then went back to looking around. His ears were alert as the wind ruffled through his fur. He appeared to be checking the area out with all his senses. A good sign, the sergeant major noted.
“He's a smart dog. No leash, no tags. He should be outfitted with armor though,” the rep said doubtfully. “I'm not certain about what the policy is about his entering combat,” he said, voice tapering off in what was obviously a question.
The sergeant major shrugged. “I have no clue myself.”
“Ah,” the rep said, nodding. “Sorry,” he touched his ear. “I just inquired … elsewhere,” he said. “They said quote, 'don't ask don't tell'. And he said he's up for it,” he said.
“He?” the sergeant major asked, ignoring the irritation at the man's use of cybernetic implants. The damned things gave him the creeps.
“Bumper, Sergeant Major,” the rep said, nodding his head to the dog. The dog made a soft sound, shifted about, then started to pant. It was a bit warm, the sergeant major thought.
“He?” the sergeant major asked again, turning back to the rep.
“He specifically requested this unit because of a Corporal Aspin, sir. He is a descendant of … um … shit, classified. That means I can't give you …,” the guy's face worked, then he nearly went cross-eyed. “Okay okay!” He rubbed his temples. “This is so fracked up.” He turned to Bumper. “Sorry, buddy. You'll have to follow protocol too. Just behave yourself. Remember, dumb dog routine. Especially when the
cameras are on you. In fact, you'd better keep the routine going as much as possible.”
“Um …,” the noncom frowned.
“He'll be fine, sir,” the other rep said, looking about them. “I think we're done here. You can set him up with a partner, right?”
“We're still working on that. This came at me cold less than twenty minutes ago actually,” the sergeant major said.
“Ah,” the second rep said, nodding. “Security. It bites,” she said, shaking her head. “Just roll with it. They are paranoid up the wazzo, but they have their reasons I suppose.”
“Yeah.”
When the reps left, he turned to the dog. “Now, what the hell do I do with you?” He frowned thoughtfully. He pulled the tablet out from under his arm and checked it over quickly. The only animal handlers on the base were MPs and one veteran who had recently reenlisted. Every one of the MPs already had a partner. The vet wasn't on the books as an animal handler anymore, so … he shook his head. Aspin, he thought. Well, ain't that a kick. He flagged the files and sent them to the general's inbox, then tucked the tablet back under his arm. “Um, come on dog. Let's go to the HQ and sort this out with the general.”
He started to walk then turned in curiosity. The dog was up and following silently along. He snorted, and then kept going.
He picked his way through the traffic on the base, ignoring the occasional curious looks he and the dog got. No doubt the scuttlebutt grapevine would be all over this. He didn't know what to do about that other than not feed it. In fact, an OPSEC warning might dampen down the speculation from getting out of hand, he thought, making a mental note.
When he got to the HQ, he marched smartly in and then turned, made a left and right at the corners and then went to the general's office. When he got to the anteroom and the general's aide, he turned to the dog. “Wait here,” he ordered. The dog sat abruptly and looked around. The aide wasn't at his desk so he rapped twice on the door.