Heart of Vengeance (Vigilante Book 1)

by Terry Mixon

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Getting close to the base wasn’t going to be easy. The slavers had numerous small sensor platforms scattered around the area to keep an eye out for exactly what Heart was planning to do.

  Thankfully, Fleet had some tech that would at least make it possible. The cruiser’s engineers had been hard at work installing thermal bafflers to his ship.

  Amusingly, they managed to fully outfit the corvette with the spares they kept aboard to replace battle damage, and still had their own gear in place.

  Brad waited until he had the word that all the small craft were bound to his hull by monofilament grapnels, and then had Marshal give the ship enough thrust to take them to the base once they’d shut the drives down and started coasting.

  The plan was to detach the small craft and make their insertion while Heart used just enough thrust to park among the ships waiting for the slavers to disassemble them. From there, the corvette could power up and move very quickly, if need be.

  The base wouldn’t have as heavy a sensor net so close in. Brad was counting on that to mask the corvette slowing.

  Once Heart was in position, she could fire her Gatlings without fear of discovery. The defenders wouldn’t know precisely where the assault was coming from until they managed to backtrack the damage and guess the area of space the ship had to be in.

  Heart could use the parked ships as cover, too. That wouldn’t save them for long once the enemy started shooting at them, but the slavers would have other problems to deal with in very short order.

  Brad’s gut was tight as they killed their drives and started the ballistic element of their insertion.

  “Have we locked down everything?” he asked Randall over the intercom. “We can’t let them spot us.”

  “Freedom says we’re as black as space. No thermal detections. Relax, Captain. These bafflers are amazing. I wonder if we could keep them when this is all over.”

  “Take that up with Captain Fields. Thanks, Mike.”

  The probes had mapped out several armed sensor platforms, so Brad knew where to look as they came closer to the base. They passed within ten thousand kilometers of two and neither made a peep. They’d gone undetected.

  “Coming up on detach point, Captain,” Marshal said. “Five minutes.”

  Brad rose to his feet. “You know the plan. Keep safe and come running if we need you.”

  He made it back to Heart’s shuttle and strapped into place beside Saburo. “Are we ready?”

  “No. Can we have a do-over?”

  Brad gave him a hard stare and then smiled. “You really need to keep the day job.”

  “That’s my plan. I’m adding something significant to my resume today. Yes, we’re all set. Every boat has reported green. We can depart on schedule.”

  A few minutes later, right on schedule, they detached from Heart. The ship pulled slowly away as they changed vector, leaving the smaller craft to proceed in unpowered flight. They wouldn’t brake until they were right on top of the asteroid.

  He’d been warned the deceleration would be savage, but it exceeded his expectations, causing spots in his vision before the shuttle came to rest on the asteroid’s surface.

  Monofilament grapnels locked it into place before Saburo led the men out. No one spoke, so as not to warn any of the slavers that they had guests. Everyone already knew their part in the plan.

  Low-powered suit thrusters made for quick movement on the dark surface of the asteroid. They happened to be facing away from the sun and Jupiter at the moment, so there wasn’t much to see.

  Brad took personal responsibility for Wandry, shepherding her to the power and com junction boxes for the large dome.

  The scientist went right to work, opening the panels and examining the contents for a long moment before pulling tools out of her bag. Five minutes later, she turned to him and gave him a thumbs-up.

  Brad leaned close so that his helmet touched hers. “You’re in?”

  “You bet. This wasn’t secured at all. Well, not against anyone that knows the first thing about communications security.” Her voice sounded muffled when transmitted by vibration through the helmets. “Give me fifteen minutes to record a loop and I’ll give you the high sign when we’re live.”

  It felt more like hours, but he focused his attention on the team nearest his location. They were using cold weld on one of the large airlocks. It worked chemically and required no bright lights for anyone to wonder about.

  He leaned back over and touched helmets with Wandry again. “Did you see any prisoners in there?”

  “Oh, yeah. It looks like one of the old refugee camps you see in historical vids. Check it out.”

  She held up a handheld monitor.

  The image was small, but he could see numerous camera feeds in rotation. The inside of the dome looked like a cross between an illegal trash dump and a prison. Saying it was filthy was being far too kind.

  Also, their estimate on the number of prisoners was badly off. There were easily a thousand people in there. Minimum. More pessimistically, he’d have to bet on at least fifteen hundred. He’d pass that information on when he kicked the attack off.

  The camera angles weren’t the best at seeing the guards, but there were some. A major concentration of them sat at a position near the main airlock leading to the rest of the base. Several dozen men and women manned heavy weapons to keep the prisoners docile. Just the sight of them made his blood boil.

  He motioned for Saburo to come over and touched helmets. “That’s your target. I want them dead before they warn anyone we’re here.”

  “Copy that,” the mercenary said. “Two dozen dead slavers coming up. I’ll go set up outside the personnel airlock with the best angle.”

  Brad once more touched helmets with Wandry. “Can you see the rest of the base?”

  “No. The feeds are outgoing only. Once we get inside, I might be able to tap into any interior systems on the other side of this short passage.”

  “That might not be the safest place to be.”

  “Have you seen those people?” the scientist demanded. “How can I cower in a corner with them depending on me? Hell, no. I’m going.”

  Brad smiled. Courage came in all sizes and forms. “How are you doing on recording the loop?”

  “Three minutes left. It’ll take me another fifteen seconds to get the feed switched. When I do, I’ll cut all coms into the dome. No one will be warning anyone we’re here. I’ll also cut the power to the interior lock. They won’t be able to run.”

  “Excellent,” Brad said, pleased. “Give me the high sign when we can go. If there is a problem, wave both arms.”

  “You got it.”

  He made his way over to Saburo and his men. All of them were arrayed outside a small airlock and looked ready to go. One of the men had some kind of portable rocket launcher for the guard post. It had a rotary magazine and at least six munitions.

  Brad readied his rifle and watched Wandry. The moment she gave him a thumbs-up, he hit his suit transmitter. It was set to go right to the shuttle, and that would retransmit his message at full power.

  “Viking Actual to all units. Prisoner count is estimated at fifteen hundred, repeated, one five zero zero. Initiate ingress. Go! Go! Go!”

  Saburo and his men piled into the airlock as soon as they got the outer door open. Someone hit the cycle button and the pressure started increasing. This was it.

  The inner door opened and the man with the heavy weapon stepped inside. He handled the switch from virtually no gravity at all to maybe half a g without issue.

  The rest of them waited as he opened fire. The backblast from the rocket launcher scorched the bulkhead beside the airlock, and an intense explosion rocked them.

  The sound was more furious than the damage, he knew. The explosives were designed not to breach hulls. That said, they obviously maimed and killed people, based on the screams coming from the target zone.

  His men rushed into the dome af
ter the heavy-weapons gunner fired three times, setting up behind the nearest cover and opening fire with their rifles.

  Brad dropped into place beside Saburo and picked a staggering slaver as his target. The man was beating on the airlock door behind the security post. The one Wandry had cut power to. The sight of the emaciated prisoners cowering all around them left him with no mercy to spare, so he shot the man in the back with no guilt at all.

  In ten seconds, they’d killed every slaver in sight. That was their cue to advance and make sure it really was clear of enemy combatants.

  Strike teams that had used the other exterior airlocks to get inside began sweeping the crowd, making sure there were no slavers in the mix. That seemed unlikely, but one never knew.

  Brad pulled off his helmet and started shouting toward the prisoners. “Everyone! Listen up! We’re here to rescue you, but you need to keep back. If we think you’re a threat, we might accidentally shoot you. Let us secure the base and then we can tell you what’s going on.”

  That really set off a lot of chatter and excitement, but Brad didn’t have time to spare them, even though he wanted to search the milling people for his uncle. He had more important fish to fry.

  He put his helmet back on, signaled for someone to bring Wandry inside, and focused his attention on the reports streaming back in over the radio. It seemed that they’d caught the slavers flat-footed. The strike teams were making good progress rolling up the bad guys.

  That momentum would change as soon as the enemy got their feet underneath them and started fighting back. The good guys really needed to punch out the heaviest concentrations of slavers now, while they had a fighting chance.

  One of the mercenaries got the scientist inside and she walked through the bodies around the slaver guard post with her eyes closed. That didn’t stop her from getting right to work as soon as she was in place beside the controls.

  “I’ve reactivated the com, subject to my password,” she said. “No one can use the lines into this dome but me.” She sounded as if she were talking just so she could hear her own voice.

  “There,” she said after a minute. “I’m seeing data from the rest of the base. I can start scanning the channels and locating heavy concentrations of people. I’ve got our people dialed in, there won’t be any mistakes.”

  “Are you seeing any threats?” he asked.

  “Give me a minute. I have to get my bearings. I see several places where the enemy is gathering, but I don’t know where they are yet.”

  A few more seconds went by and she jerked. “I found one. They’re not too far away from us and look like they’re headed in our direction. I recognize the guy you were looking for, too.”

  Brad leaned over and looked at the screen she was working on. There were dozens of armed men streaming down a corridor. The man in front was Fabian Breen. He was in a vac-suit and was directing his men forward while hefting a bulging pack.

  “Saburo!” Brad called out. “We have company on the way. We need to move into the base and keep them back while Wandry calls in strikes on the rest.”

  Once his noncom had gathered the strike forces together—about forty men in the dome—he nodded. “We’re ready to open the hatch. Everyone else stand back.”

  At his signal, Wandry opened the lock doors and his men rushed through. The enemy hadn’t quite reached the area, so they were able to get to the smaller dome next to them and set up defensive positions in peace.

  That when Brad heard the distant shriek of alarms. Loss of pressure. The mass driver slugs were starting to arrive. He hoped Wandry could keep them on target, though it wouldn’t matter for the strike teams. They were all suited up.

  That’s when the slavers rushed through the hatch ahead of them and ran into a hail of bullets. The front rank died, but Brad didn’t see Breen among them. He must’ve held back at the last moment.

  The exchange of fire became intense, and he was glad they had cover. The slavers were being forced to run through their fields of fire to get at them and paying for the privilege in blood.

  “Wandry,” Brad called out over the radio. “How many of them are still in front of us?”

  The woman didn’t respond for a moment. “Not a lot. Two or three dozen. I’m more concerned about the ones cutting around you.”

  He ducked low so he could focus on what she was saying. “Repeat that. Cutting around us how?”

  “There are half a dozen of them exiting a lock from the corridor ahead of you. It looks like they’re coming to the outside of the dome.”

  Brad remembered the pack Breen was carrying. If it was filled with explosives, the man could breach the dome.

  “Saburo,” he snapped. “I need a dozen men right now. Send them after me and back out the lock in the dome. Wandry will tell you where.”

  He didn’t wait for a response before heading back to the prisoner dome at a run. If he didn’t stop Breen, hundreds of innocent people could die.

  Chapter Thirty

  Brad cycled through the lock in a rush, weapon up and searching as he transitioned to microgravity. The asteroid had rotated to face Jupiter, so he spotted the slavers as soon as he came out.

  Four of them were looking around with pistols in their hands while a fifth was propping the pack against the dome’s exterior wall. They saw him at about then and opened fire.

  Unlike Brad, they clearly had no training in firing a gun in zero g. Or, apparently, for dealing with the recoil of a firearm when operating in grav-boots. This was clearly not Breen’s A-team.

  Brad had no idea how close the initial shots came, but they didn’t get off a second volley before they went sprawling backwards with only their boots allowing them to keep a semblance of balance. One of them even lost his footing. With no gravity to speak of, the slaver wouldn’t be seeing the ground again anytime soon, most likely.

  Ignoring them all, Brad shot the man with the pack five times, using his suit thrusters to counteract the recoil. One shot was probably enough, but he wanted to be sure.

  The dead slaver—Breen, he hoped—kicked spasmodically and floated away, blood leaking from his suit.

  That’s when Saburo came out with reinforcements. The men spread out and expertly shot the flailing slavers in short order.

  “How many did you say there were, Wandry?” Brad asked over the radio.

  “Six.”

  “Crap,” he said to Saburo. “We’re missing one. Probably Breen, with our luck. We need to spread out and find him before he does something else. Get that bomb dealt with, too.”

  “That’s easy.”

  The noncom used his thrusters to fly out to the pack, grabbed it, and tossed it straight up. It quickly vanished into the darkness.

  “That was a little dangerous, don’t you think?” Brad asked dryly. “What if it had gone off?”

  “Then I wouldn’t be getting my ass chewed out later?”

  “Got it in one.”

  Saburo quickly sent men off in every direction, choosing to remain with Brad. “Which way shall we go?”

  “Which direction was the nearest shuttle docking area? Maybe he was looking to get away while his men planted the charges.”

  The mercenary checked his comp. “This way, I think.”

  Both of them headed away from the large dome and quickly made it to a substantially smaller one with a roof-mounted shuttle hatch. It was open.

  “Do you think he’s gone already?” Saburo asked.

  “Only one way to find out.”

  Brad expertly flew up and literally ran into a shuttle exiting the dome. It wasn’t going that fast, so the impact only jarred him. He managed to grab on before the pilot kicked the thrusters to full and sped away from the asteroid. He only had time to hear Saburo’s surprised shout before he was out of suit radio range.

  He managed to hold on but lost his rifle in the unexpected encounter. He’d need to rely on his pistol and blade. If, of course, he could get inside the shuttle. If not, he’d have to wait until it d
ocked and find a way into the ship Breen was using to escape.

  That’s who it had to be, he thought.

  The shuttle was of a standard design, so there were handholds on the outside to facilitate extravehicular activities. Brad held on tightly at all times and quickly deployed a safety line to one of the provided attachment points. No way he was going Dutchman again.

  He worked his way to the airlock in short stages. He’d attach a new line and then disengage the previous one with the manual disconnect. It took perhaps fifteen minutes to make the short journey.

  Unsurprisingly, the airlock wasn’t secured. There wasn’t much point. After all, how often did a shuttle pilot have to worry about hitchhikers?

  If the layout of the shuttle was standard, Brad could guess where Breen was with a high degree of certainty. Unless, of course, the man suspected the person he’d run into was somehow still outside. Or if he’d even seen Brad at all.

  Hmmm. There weren’t any obvious cameras, but the controls would let the pilot know the airlock was cycling. That left the man plenty of time to get into position to ambush him.

  If he saw the indicator. That was the conundrum. If Brad guessed wrong, he’d come in facing the opposite direction from the man trying to kill him.

  Well, if Breen didn’t know he was out there, it would take him time to react. Best to play it safe. Get in as fast as possible and be ready for an attack from the rear of the shuttle.

  It would take the airlock fifteen seconds to cycle to vacuum. Then he’d face the same time pressurizing. He’d be trapped once he committed himself, too.

  The bloodlust briefly threatened to overwhelm him, but he savagely repressed it. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t—allow his trauma to make him fail. He had to go into this with all his faculties.

  Taking a deep breath, he pressed the control outside the airlock and watched it begin to cycle. Fifteen seconds later, he was inside and the pressure was starting to build.

  This was the moment of truth. He pulled both his blade and pistol. He’d use the blade for a close attacker and the pistol for the more distant pilot’s controls.