by Jan Domagala
“THE ENGINES HAVE BEEN cut and it feels like we’ve put down. Whatever they have planned will happen soon so stay close,” Stryder said, standing between Hardy and the doorway to protect her from any intruders.
“What do you think they intend to do?” she asked as she came around him to stand by his side. If she was scared then she hid it extremely well and Stryder was proud of her, she was a fine Marine.
“I think they intend to extract what they can from me about the programme. How they intend to do that I’m not sure,” Stryder replied, then his ears picked up a sound from outside the door. He turned his head so he could hear a little better.
“What, what is it?” Hardy asked, having heard nothing.
“They’re coming, stay cool,” Stryder said.
The door opened and three Marines entered the room. They were all armed with assault rifles aimed at the couple in the room.
Norsky appeared from behind the Marines. His face had altered back to its normal physiognomy.
“Captain Stryder, you’ll go with these gentlemen please,” he said with a smug smile.
Stryder turned to look at Hardy, smiled, and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” then turned and walked towards the trio of Marines.
As they walked past Norsky Stryder said, “You touch one hair on her head and I’ll kill you.”
Norsky glanced at him and the cold stare from Stryder’s cobalt blue eyes chilled his blood.
“You are in no position to make idle threats,” Norsky responded.
“It’s not an idle threat.”
“Take him away,” Norsky told the Marines, ending any further comments from his captive prize. He turned to Hardy and said, “You, my dear, will be coming with me.”
“You’ve got to be joking right? If you think you’re taking me anywhere then think again,” she replied defiantly.
“You can stay here. The Marines will come back and lock you up, but God knows what they’ll do to you. You’re on your own behind enemy lines. You see, nobody knows where you are, so, my dear, there’s no one who can help you. Or, you can come with me and I’ll make your stay here as comfortable as I can. Your choice,” Norsky replied.
“It doesn’t look like I’ve got much of a choice; if I’ve got to be a prisoner then I may as well be a comfortable one,” Hardy replied.
The Marines marched Stryder from the starship towards the interior of the base. They passed through several corridors until they came to a door that opened as they approached.
Inside the cavernous room was a large table at the centre. Straps were situated at the four corners, obviously to restrain whoever was forced to lie on it. At the head of the table was a row of monitors and three technicians, all wearing white lab coats, stood around waiting for the test subject, who Stryder knew to be him.
There was another person in the room, in the uniform of a General in the Alliance. He was huge, standing six feet six inches tall with the muscular build of a weightlifter, the bulges showing through his close fitting uniform. His hair was white and cut to military length. As they entered the room he turned and viewed them, a smile crossing his lips and his clear blue eyes showing his delight.
“Ah! There you are, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to meet you, Captain Stryder,” General Solon said.
“I’m honoured, General Solon, in the flesh. I didn’t realise I was that important for the head of Special Operations to come here personally just to tuck me into my new quarters. I feel very humble indeed,” Stryder said. He’d recognised the man the instant he saw his broad back.
“So you know who I am. Of course, being in Recon Delta you would be aware of who commanded those opposite you. Well let’s get down to it, shall we? You’re here to help us find the solution to a problem that’s been troubling us for a few months now.”
“And that is?”
“Did the programme you took part in on your Research Station Five, render any repeatable results?”
“That’s an easy one, so there was no need to go to all this trouble. All you had to do was ask and I’d have told you. The simple answer is, no, it was a complete failure.”
“You’ll excuse me if I don’t believe you. There have been reports that you have exhibited signs of increased ability, which leads us to believe that it was the opposite in fact. We believe that it was an unqualified success and you’re here to provide us with the samples that will allow us to repeat the process and form our own prototype.”
“And what if I refuse?” Stryder asked.
A gun suddenly appeared in General Solon’s hand, a Magerov M9. He said, “That isn’t an option,” and shot him. The blast of reduced pulsed plasma energy struck him in the centre of the chest stunning him. It sent him staggering backwards into the trio of Marines who caught him before he collapsed onto the floor.
“Strap him down on the table,” Solon said to the Marines supporting Stryder then, turning to the lab techs, said, “He’s all yours, get to work. I want results by sundown tonight.” With that he left the room.
20
Sinclair contacted Col Sec HQ on Earth via a secure link through his NI. The man he spoke to was his second in command and the man he most trusted. Colonel Abraham Gemmell, like Sinclair, was a career officer who had devoted his life to the service of the Confederation. He was the man who Sinclair relied upon the most to help run the Intelligence Division of Col Sec. Standing at six feet five inches tall with a slim, lean physique he set the example for the officers beneath him, regularly going on training exercises with the troops to keep sharp and abreast of the latest regime. Sharp grey eyes focused his keen intelligence on any task afforded him, which he faced head on with a fierce tenacity that bordered upon obsession. In his late forties, his hair, cut short to military length, had lost none of its colour and the dark lustre of the black hair contrasted with the light grey tone of his eyes.
He was at his desk in Col Sec HQ when he took the call from Sinclair. He had been waiting for a report from his superior, who had promised to keep him informed of the progress of that particular mission. It was a sticking point between them, as Gemmell argued that Sinclair should have delegated someone else to handle the op and not the head of the Intelligence Division. He thought that Sinclair was placing himself at risk and through him the entire security of the Confederation.
Sinclair had stated that he had a personal investment in the op because he had been in charge of the programme on Research Station Five, an investment that wouldn’t allow him to delegate to anyone else. His personal involvement with the programme, and intimate knowledge of Stryder and the events that took place during the programme, made it imperative that he handle it. If there was any chance of rescuing anything from the ruins of that programme and getting Stryder to work with them once more, he had to take charge. He thought that Stryder might not take too kindly to just another Col Sec officer trying to persuade him to return, whereas if Sinclair approached him personally, he might be a little more receptive.
Whatever his arguments, Gemmell hadn’t agreed but being only second in command – General trumps Colonel every time – he had to go along with it. What he did though was keep a close eye on things and have a starship on standby with a contingent of Recon Delta Marines on board ready to go at a moment’s notice.
“We’ve got a major problem here Abe and I need you to do something. I’m not sure if it’ll help the situation in time but this needs sorting anyway,” Sinclair said once the connection was made.
“Go ahead, sir,” Gemmell replied gearing himself for what he’d expected since the beginning.
“Stryder has been captured by Alliance forces. What I need from you is information. They captured him by accessing the codes for his tracker,” Sinclair said, waiting for what he knew must come from his close friend and second in command – the inevitable “I told you so”.
“How is that possible sir, those codes are accessible only to someone with Gold clearance?” Gemmell replied, controlling the urge to v
ent but instead focusing on the problem at hand.
“That’s what I want you to find out.”
“Now I understand what you meant about it helping the immediate situation. What are your thoughts if I manage to locate what you want? I’m assuming you think we must have a mole here at HQ?”
“That’s right, it’s the only possible answer. What I want you to do, and it’ll be difficult I’m aware of that, made more so by the time constraints you’ll have to work under, is find the mole without tipping your hand. I don’t want them either running scared or going deep so we never find them, you understand? Once you have them I want them squeezed until they agree to work for us. We need their contacts so that we can work something out about getting Stryder back.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t see how getting the mole to work for us can help get Stryder back. The Alliance will just cut them loose; they’ll never swap them for him.”
“I know, but if we can get their contact in the Alliance we may be able to learn where they’re holding Stryder and if, and I stress the word if, we learn that, we can hopefully mount an op to recapture him before it’s too late.”
“I understand about the time constraints you mention, sir, but there are also too many ‘ifs’ for my comfort sir.”
“You’d better get to work then Abe.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll get my best man on it right away,” Gemmell said.
“I knew I could rely on you for this Abe and I know I’ve got some serious ‘I told you so’s’ coming my way from you, so I just want to say from the start, thanks.”
“Look sir, the recriminations can wait until this is over. Let’s just get this done, then you can thank me, okay?”
“You’re right of course, do your best Colonel.”
“Always, sir,” Gemmell said, then the call was ended. He sat back in his chair and thought about what lay ahead and the best way to go about it. There was only one way to handle this delicate situation and that was with kid gloves. His top man was not known for his delicate approach, but he was the best he could think of. He would just have to adapt his approach to this particular problem.
Using a secure channel he called the person in question. Captain Matthew Hawk. He was on Earth at that moment training with a team of Recon Delta Marines in close quarter combat.
Standing six feet six inches tall with broad shoulders, trim waist and thick, muscular arms and legs, he faced three opponents. His ice blue eyes sparkled with a mischievous quality that was often mistaken for indifference. Those who faced him knew him well enough to not underestimate him.
They were in a chamber in Col Sec HQ, the Intelligence wing deep in the bowels of the building where most of the training took place.
“Okay guys, let’s see what you’ve got,” Hawk said with a smile, his deep bass voice booming in the confines of the room.
“Don’t be too confident, Matt,” said the leader of the trio who was in the centre facing him. Just then the two men flanking him rushed at Hawk who stepped forward, his arms open wide, and slammed both his log-like arms across the chests of the two attacking Marines in a manoeuvre called a clothesline, popular with pro wrestlers. The two Marines hit his arms and stopped dead but their feet carried on travelling at speed sending them spinning in the air to land flat on their backs.
“Oh, I’m not,” Hawk said, his smile still in place. Kicking the last Marine in the stomach with his right foot sending him staggering backwards, Hawk followed and hit him across the back of his neck which sent him crashing to the floor.
The tingle he felt in his NI told him a call was coming through.
“Hawk here, go ahead,” he said, instinctively knowing that it was a secure channel being accessed.
“Captain Hawk I have an urgent mission for you, I’ll brief you in my office in ten minutes. Don’t be late Captain, drop whatever you’re doing now and get here,” Gemmell said.
“Already have, sir, I’m on my way,” Hawk replied.
“Thanks guys, we must do this again soon,” he said with a smile as he left the chamber.
He went straight to Gemmell’s office not bothering to get changed out of his training clothes and into something more appropriate. The call had said immediately and that’s exactly what Gemmell meant. He knew better than to be late.
He walked into the office to see Gemmell seated behind his desk.
“Thanks for your prompt arrival Captain, believe me on this one time is of the essence,” Gemmell said as Hawk approached the desk.
“What’s up, sir?” Hawk asked as he sat on the chair in front of the desk.
“Are you aware of the project that took place on Outpost Station Five, the one involving Captain Stryder?”
“To an extent. I know that it was a failure and that Captain Stryder is on extended leave to recuperate.”
“Well, the Alliance had other ideas. They’re of the opinion that it was a success and have captured Stryder on Celeron. They did it by accessing the secure codes for the tracker integral to the NI. The fact that they’ve nabbed Stryder is bad enough, but the fact they now have the ability to access the codes means they can pinpoint any of the Recon Delta Marines either covert or not. It places our forces at a distinct disadvantage.”
“What is it you want me to do, sir?” Hawk asked.
“It’ll be a few days before we can implement the new codes which means all our operatives are in danger, including yourself and all the command staff. The only good news is that the Alliance will be too preoccupied with Stryder to implement any attacks. You, my boy, have the unenviable task of finding the mole in HQ. The only way they could’ve got their hands on those codes was from someone with Gold Access, that’s someone in this building. I want you to locate whoever it was without their knowledge. We want them so that we can identify the person they passed it on to. General Sinclair wants to sweat the contact to find out where they’re holding Stryder so that we can mount an operation to rescue him before he’s told them too much.”
“No pressure then, sir,” Hawk said with a smile.
“Yea, I realise it’s short notice and you’ll have to work fast and quiet over this one, but it’s come down from General Sinclair personally. He’s requested my best man on it and here you are. There’s a lot at stake here, Matt. I know you realise that and you’ll do your best so I’ll let you get on with it. Keep me informed. You have whatever you need to fulfil this mission, full authority on my command,” Gemmell said his expression stern.
“Thank you, sir, I may need it,” Hawk said, and getting to his feet turned to leave the office.
At the door Gemmell said, “Good luck Matt. Oh and no mess ups okay?”
Hawk turned back to face him and said, “As always, sir.”
Walking away from Gemmell’s office Hawk’s mind was already on the problem. Whoever had gained access to the codes must have had Gold clearance, which meant that it was one of General Sinclair’s staff. In a way that was advantageous in that it was a finite number and he would not have to consider the thousands of personnel who worked at HQ in total. Sinclair’s staff numbered only a fraction of the total but he had to come up with a way to narrow the parameters of the search.
By the time he reached his office the germ of an idea had begun to form in his mind.
NORSKY SHOWED HARDY to her new quarters away from the main area of the complex. The silence between them was like a wall she had constructed as protection. She was a prisoner, that fact she was well aware of, but one thing puzzled her. During her capture Norsky had acted professionally, he had been courteous with just the right amount of steel to reinforce his control. Since they had arrived and Kurt had been handed over though, his attitude had altered slightly. It was almost as if his mission was over and he could relax. The way he looked at her and spoke to her gave her the impression that he treated this almost as if it was a date.
She knew he was attracted to her and she thought perhaps she could use that to her advantage.
“Here y
ou are my dear, your new home for the next few days at least,” he said at the door.
“And what then?” she asked, turning to look at him, trying to gauge him.
“That is out of my hands, but it won’t be long before they have what they want from your Captain Stryder. Once that is completed then the balance of power will be reinstated. It may even have shifted into our favour.”
“Do I hear the rattle of sabres in your words?”
“On the contrary Miss Hardy, just because I am a soldier willing to fight and, if necessary, die for his side, do not think I am an advocate for war. I pray for peace but I am unafraid to fight if war is declared.”
“Nice words but I’ve seen little to back them up.”
“What happens to your friend is inevitable, he went into the situation with his eyes wide open and if I’m not mistaken, he volunteered. The idea was to gain an advantage over the Alliance, isn’t that, as you say, rattling of sabres? What we have done is merely an act of self defence, an attempt to restore the status quo.”
“That’s as may be, but if you seek to gain an advantage out of this, isn’t that war mongering?”
“We could go around and around with this with no one gaining a clear advantage. One thing I am certain of is this; on either side are individuals who would seek any sort of advantage over the other to use as a weapon. Some would use that weapon to its full potential and an equal number would use that weapon as a deterrent. I pray it’s the latter that wins any argument. You and I are soldiers and so are not privy to such arguments; we only have to act on their outcome.
“In the meantime, there is no reason for us to act like savages. I will treat you in a civilised fashion and even though I know you must try to escape, your quarters will be comfortable.”
“And what about you? You’ve completed your mission. I suppose you’ll be moving to your next mission, so why do you care if my quarters are comfortable or not?”