Only the Brave (Lincoln's War Book 3)

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Only the Brave (Lincoln's War Book 3) Page 10

by Richard Tongue


   “On your feet, Lieutenant.”

   “We heading for the nearest airlock?” Tanaka asked, wincing as he struggled to rise. While the pain rod might have caused no permanent damage, every muscle in his body had gone into spasm following the final strike, and every part of him ached.

   “No, back to barracks.”

   “You aren’t afraid that I know too much to be safe?” Looking down the corridor, he added, “I suppose I should thank you for saving my life, but somehow I don’t quite have it in me.”

   “I can’t blame you for that,” she replied. “I suspect I would feel very much the same if our roles were reversed.” Looking at Tanaka, she asked, “Do you know anything that might be of use to me? If you’re willing to cooperate, then I could arrange medical attention, special privileges. Perhaps get you to that Earth-like world a lot faster than you might otherwise manage.”

   “I don’t know a damned thing, Commander, and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

   Sighing, she replied, “With the drugs we have at our disposal, that decision would not be yours to make. I’m certain your ship has similar capabilities.”

   “Inconveniently, we actually care about the rights of prisoners of war.”

   “Many of your allies are far less considerate than you. The drugs we use were originally developed on Colombia, and some of the...” A speaker barked, and she walked over to a wall communicator, tapping a control. “Zani here. Go ahead.”

   “Commander, we’re getting multiple dimensional rifts, opening all around us. There’s nothing scheduled to arrive for at least thirty-six hours, and certainly nothing of this scale.”

   “Damn,” she said. “They’re early.”

   Tanaka walked over to a viewport, watching as a series of flashes lit the sky, a dozen starships appearing close to the station. Warships, tankers, transports, a collection of ships that could only be the enemy fleet, moving into position around the station. Zani looked at him, fury on her face, and gestured to the end of the corridor.

   “Go back to your cell. Now.”

   “I take it you weren’t expecting this many guests for dinner.”

   Leveling her pistol at his chest, she said, “Those would be some pretty lousy last words. Move. Or die.”

   “Some choice,” he replied, moving to the doors. He risked one last glance at the enemy fleet, and grimaced. The Guilders were on the move, and in a matter of hours, the war would be over. One way or another. And all he could do was sit and wait.

  Chapter 14

   “Well?” Flynn asked, as Benedetti stepped into the medical bay.

   “There’s no sign of Lincoln, and no word from her, either,” she replied. “I’m trying to get some sort of answer from somebody, but nobody seems to be making any sort of decision. General Markova’s called a command conference at the Defense Ministry, and I think all the ship commanders are heading over there, but I suspect Carlos and Lotsawa are going to pull out.”

   “Let me guess. Sealed orders from home, in the event that Lincoln was lost in action. Head home, hide under the bed, and wait for all of this to blow over. Damn it, Benny, that just isn’t going to work, and you know it!” He looked at her, and asked, “What about you?”

   “I’m just a Lieutenant. Nobody tells me anything. I’m not even invited to the meeting.”

   “Like hell,” Flynn said, struggling to his feet. “Give me a hand.”

   Her eyes widened, and she asked, “Just what the hell do you think you are doing?”

   “There are enough Americans scattered around what’s left of the fleet that I think they should have a seat at the table, and last time I checked, I’m the ranking officer.”

   “What’s left of you,” she replied, bluntly. “You’re supposed to be on medical leave.”

   “Wasn’t the good doctor talking about sending me down to the surface?”

   “To start rehabilitation and recovery,” Benedetti said. “I don’t think this was what he had in mind.” Glancing at a wall monitor, she said, “Maybe you could teleconference.”

   Shaking his head, he said, “Not going to work. The Ministry is a secured location, locked down. You can’t teleconference. Security restrictions, especially now. If the general population found out what was going on, there’d be a mass panic. The Guild wouldn’t have to move in, they’d do the job for them. I’ll have to do this up close and personal, and I’m going to need your help.”

   “Jack, come on. Take a look in the mirror.”

   “You’re kidding, right? I don’t want seven years of bad luck when my face shatters the damn thing. Pass me that jacket. I think I can get it on over the cast.” She walked over to him, gently sliding the garment over his shoulders, and he winced in pain briefly as it rubbed against his skin.

   “This is insane. You realize that.”

   “Are you going to help, or just sit back and criticize?” He paused, struggled to stand, and said, “The fleet’s falling apart, and if something isn’t done to stop them, my prospects of living through the next week are pretty damned dismal. It won’t matter what happens to my arm. I can stand the pain, for a while at least.”

   She looked at the door, then said, “If anyone catches us, this was your idea.” Taking his good arm, she said, “Shuttle bay’s one deck down. There must be something on standby. I don’t think it’s a good idea to ask permission for this.”

   “Agreed,” he said, as the two of them stumbled to the door. They lurched into a waiting elevator, just as the doctor stepped out of his office, his protest cut off as the doors slammed shut, the mechanism bursting into life to take them to the deck below. Flynn leaned against the wall, trying to protect his stump, reaching across to the override control on the drug dispenser.

   “Now what are you doing?” Benedetti asked.

   “If I let this follow the normal program, it’ll pump me so full that I won’t be able to think straight. I’ve got to keep a clear mind if we’re going to make the meeting.” He fumbled with the controls, tapping in a sequence. “That’s more like it. Just give me a nice, smooth ride to the surface, and everything should work out.”

   The doors slid open, and they stepped out onto the hangar deck, only a handful of technicians sitting in a corner, sharing the general air of malaise. The two of them stepped into the nearest shuttle, nobody moving to stop them, and Benedetti helped him into the co-pilot’s couch, tugging the restraints tight, before taking her own position at the flight controls.

   “Shuttle Two to Actual, request permission for launch.”

   “Actual to Shuttle Two. I have no flight plan listed.”

   “Transfer to Santos-Dumont. Came up at the last minute. We have authorization for the transfer.” She paused, then added, “Actual, I’m in a hurry. We’ve got to get over as soon as possible. I can’t give any details over an open channel. We just need to get moving, right away.”

   There was a brief pause, and the voice said, “You have launch clearance. Better make it quick, though. Word is that the fleet will be moving out any time now.”

   “Roger, Actual. Thanks.” Turning to Flynn as she worked the takeoff sequence, the shuttle drifting lazily through the elevator airlocks, she added, “I doubt that’s a good sign. Most likely at least Yamantaka is on its way home once the conference is over.” Glancing up at the clock, she added, “If Romano’s information is on the mark, the enemy fleet will be here in less than twelve hours. You up for a glorious last stand?”

   “Not today,” he replied, as the engines kicked in, hurling them down towards the planet. The communications console lit up, someone on the ship realizing where they were going, and with his good hand, he reached for the controls, entering in a command sequence. “Shuttle Two to Surface. Coming in for priority landing at the Ministry of Defense.”

   “Shuttle Two, you have no authorization...”

   “Surface Control, this is Commander Flyn
n. Either let us land or shoot us down. Your call.”

   There was a long pause, the shuttle biting into the atmosphere, Benedetti keeping her heading stable and steady, holding the g-force to a minimum. Despite her work, Flynn still winced as his arm dropped to the side, tugging on the sling, a faint hiss as another dose of painkillers made its way into his system.

   “Shuttle Two, this is Surface Control. By order of General Markova, you are cleared to land, and will be escorted to her office upon your arrival. You will maintain communications silence for the remainder of the descent, and will speak to nobody on landing. Further, you will not be permitted to depart until the General gives approval. Do you understand?”

   “Message received and understood. Shuttle out.” Shaking his head, he said, “They’re really running scared down there, aren’t they.”

   “Can you blame them, given the circumstances?” she replied. “I’m only surprised the story hasn’t broken yet. As soon it does, all hell is going to break loose.” Glancing at Flynn again, she added, “There’s a place for you on Santos-Dumont, you know. I’m sure our people will make a similar offer to the Zemlyans. That will apply to everyone from Lincoln.”

   “I appreciate that, but I can’t accept. Not yet.”

   “I figured as much, but I thought I’d make the offer. You and I both know that this fleet can’t hold the Guild back. Even if we all died trying, it wouldn’t make any difference.”

   “While there’s life, there’s hope.”

   “That doesn’t sound like much of a battle plan, Jack.”

   “It’ll have to do until something else comes along.”

   The shuttle rocked to the side, soaring through the atmosphere, nose forward as the heat dispersed, the city rolling out beneath them. Benedetti banked around, spilling excess velocity, keeping one eye on Flynn the whole time. She cruised around the outskirts of town, pulling back on the throttle as she moved in for her final approach, kicking in the landing thrusters to bring them neatly down on the landing pad, the towering Zemlyan Defense Ministry looming over them.

   “Looks like we’ve got a welcoming committee,” she said, gesturing at the starboard viewport, a column of Planetary Guardsmen in full dress uniform walking towards them, barely waiting for her to shut down the shuttle’s systems before approaching the airlock. Flynn struggled out of his couch, wincing once more as his arm caught the communications panel, and Benedetti hurriedly released her restraints to help him up.

   “I can manage,” he protested.

   “Like hell,” she replied. “If you’re going to do this, then you’re going to do it my way, or you won’t do it at all. Got that?”

   “Aye, ma’am,” he said with a wry smile, forcing himself to stand, walking slowly towards the rear hatch with Benedetti propping him up. “Just don’t make it look too obvious. They’re going to look for any excuse to bug out, and I don’t intend to provide them with a fresh one.”

   She nodded, and the two of them made it to the airlock, walking side by side as the hatch swung open, a pair of guardsmen standing outside at the head of the column. The guard commander nodded, allowing Flynn and Benedetti to lead the way, ten pairs of boots ringing on the reinforced plasticrete as they walked to the entrance, another pair of guards standing at attention outside. Behind them, a gaggle of technicians raced for the shuttle, a fueling truck rumbling after them, preparing it for immediate launch.

   They stepped into the building and walked into the waiting elevator, another guard standing to attention as they passed, and Benedetti tapped the control for the lowest level, the bunker nestled a hundred feet below the surface. She glanced at her watch, impatiently waiting for the mechanism to complete its cycle, the flicker of laser scanners running over her, checking for hidden devices or weapons. No electronic devices were permitted down there, nothing that might be able to interface with the deliberately archaic network. The Guild had enough advantages as it was, without providing them with easy access to the Zemlyan intelligence systems.

   Finally, the door slid open, and the two of them stepped out into a huge cavern, set on the shore of an immense underground lake, stalactites and stalagmites reaching out into the void. A pair of armed guards walked around the perimeter, making their way from wall to wall, a constant, endless patrol. On the shore were a series of bunkers, scattered almost randomly around, and it was to the nearest that they walked, feet crunching on the rocky floor as the elevator slammed shut behind them.

   On the far side of the lake were a series of hydroponic plants, housing and life support systems for a hundred people, carefully maintained and preserved. Under other circumstances, this might be the final redoubt for a planetary civilization, and that threat was growing ever closer by the day, as the Guild prepared for the final assault on this world. The door creaked open, purposely noisy to alert those inside to any new arrival, and she stepped inside, half a dozen people sitting around a battered metal table, their argument unabated by the arrival of Flynn and Benedetti.

   “Damn it,” Lotsawa said. “If I’d obeyed my orders, I’d already be out of here.”

   “You said that you would stand with us!” Volkov protested. Looking up at Flynn, he said, “Jack, what the hell are you doing down here.”

   Flynn took an empty seat at the table, and replied, “I’m representing the American contingent, pending the return of Lincoln.”

   “Assuming she hasn’t been destroyed,” Garcia said, gloomily.

   “Or she’s run,” Lotsawa added. “Taken the better part of valor. We’re going to do the same.”

   “No, Commander, you aren’t,” Flynn said, pulling out his datapad. “I have orders here from Captain Forrest, orders that cover this precise situation. They promote me to the rank of full Commander in the United States Space Fleet, and assign me as acting commander of allied forces.”

   “You cannot be serious,” Lotsawa replied. “Come on, Commander. We were here to fight, not to die for nothing in the defense of a doomed planet. Forrest’s plan has failed. It’s as simple as that. Now we have to deal with the consequences of her mistakes, and that means living to fight another day.” Rising to his feet, he said, “Garcia, I know you had the same orders that I did.”

   Reluctantly, Garcia nodded, and said, “I’m afraid so. General, I have to withdraw my forces from the alliance and return to Lemuria. Lieutenant Benedetti...”

   “I’m not going anywhere, Carlos. My word means something.”

   “Lincoln will be back,” Flynn added. “And our fleet is here.”

   “For the moment,” Markova said. “Though I have received orders from the President to prepare for the evacuation of key personnel. Commander Flynn, I must suggest...”

   “Six hours,” Flynn said. “Give me six hours.”

   “My orders stand,” Lotsawa replied.

   Benedetti looked at the door, then at Markova, and said, “General, you can stop this.”

   “Six hours,” Flynn pressed. “That’s all I ask.”

   Markova nodded, and said, “We wait.”

   “My orders...” Lotsawa began, his face reddening.

   “We wait,” Markova said. “Right here. I’m going to work on the assumption that your ship won’t leave without you. That applies to you also, Commander Garcia.”

   “When my government hears of this...”

   “I don’t think that’s going to matter, Commander,” Flynn said. “If we haven’t heard something in six hours, the war’s over anyway. And we will have lost. I don’t think it’s much to ask you to wait a little while, given what is at stake.” Looking around the table, he said, “Just relax, people. My old flight instructor once said...”

   “No point dying all tensed up,” Benedetti concluded.

   “Frankly,” Volkov said, “I’d rather not die at all.”

  Chapter 15

   Forrest sat in her office, trying to look over a series of person
nel reports, attempting to drown herself in the comforting tedium of administrative trivia. Sometimes it could be effective, and sometimes it wasn’t. This was one of those times, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the battle that was to come. There was nothing she could do to influence events, not now, no ability to plan for the fighting until they saw exactly what they were up against.

   She only knew that they had to make the attempt, whatever the ultimate cost turned out to be. Too much was at stake to hold back, and they had every opportunity of striking a killer blow to the Guild, one that might end this war in a single battle. Rising from her chair, she walked over to the tactical display on the wall, looking at their entry vector into the system.

   Long-range sensors had picked up interdimensional traffic on a scale she’d rarely seen before. More than enough to mask their arrival. The system itself was a strange one, orbital space cluttered with the remains of a host of planets, disrupted by the arrival of the black hole into the system in the distant past, the same singularity that was slowly eating away at the brown dwarf star at the heart of the system.

   Five hundred years ago, this discovery would have been the scientific breakthrough of the century, scores of ships entering the system to examine the miraculous find, the first black hole within range of humanity. Instead, they were planning to use the gravitational anomaly as a weapon, to sneak into the system and get close enough to launch their attack without being detected. There were enough blind spots scattered around, and with a little creative piloting, Lincoln should be able to get inside without triggering the Guilder sensor web.

   Assuming that the data they had on the system was accurate, and that Lincoln’s gravimetric calculators were working as they should. And that the enemy hadn’t managed to cover the whole system, and had left open the gaps she was expecting. It was a strange place to mobilize a fleet, but that might have been the idea, to choose a spot that she wouldn’t have expected, to launch their surprise attack as they hoped.

 

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