AL:ICE-9

by Charles Lamb

One of the men from the rooftop approached her and, holding a square box like object in one hand and a roll of tape in the other stated, “I’m taping this to your helmet, you try anything and I will pull this string. You better believe it will take your head off.”

  Sara could see the box had a pin with a string attached, if he pulled the string, the pin would come with it. As she stood between the two men holding her, the man with the box, held it to the side of her helmet and started taping it in a circling fashion, looping around the top of her helmet. It didn’t block her view but she could see the back side of the tape in her visor.

  “Put her on the bay,” he told the other two men while following, still holding the other end of the string. Taking the reins of her horse, he then mounted his own, insuring to leave plenty of slack in the string. Once everyone was mounted, he led the group, with Sara’s mount in tow, through the opening that once held large panels of glass.

  Carefully picking their way down the stairs in the front of the building, he led the group south and away from the gunfire to their left.

  ----*----

  Jake had switched from the tactical display in his helmet, to ALICE’s overhead video feed in real time. He watched as Joe led a low level, two by two, strafing run on the approaching mass of horses and men. They were slightly above rooftop height of the building lining the street. He had drilled them that by coming in low, the shooters in the rear wouldn’t get a good sight on them until it was too late and they’d whip right by. If they came in too low, those on the rooftops had a good chance of jumping them.

  Riding side by side in a box formation with the two pair in the rear slightly staggered to those in the front, the rear pair slowed to put some distance between themselves and the leaders. The lead pair of cycles opened up with the twin 7.62 machineguns and cut down riders and horses in twin paths down the street. As the lead pair started firing, the trailing pair went wide, firing on the groups that had split out from the main force.

  As the unaffected scrambled to either side of the street, they still lost almost a quarter of the group in the first pass. There had also been a lot more return fire directed at the riders after they passed. With men and horses down all over the street, it became total chaos on the ground below the flyers.

  Jake ordered Joe to pause and delayed the return pass while he assessed the damage to the group. He really didn’t want a bloodbath and hoped to see the group retreat, obviously outmatched. As he watched the riders recover, the rag-tag remnants still amounted to about two-thirds of the original force. While he watched, seeing them scatter towards the south end of the street and out any alleyways, Abby interrupted.

  “Jake you need to see this, we found Sara.”

  Jake switched his video feed to Abby’s helmet cam and saw a small group of horses moving carefully, but quickly south. Zooming in he could make out Sara’s combat suit, hands tied behind her back, on the horse behind the leader. She has something taped to her head and there was a string leading from there to the rider leading her horse.

  “Alice, what is that thing taped to her helmet?” Jake asked.

  After a brief pause, she replied, “It appears to be a military grade explosive, used in ambush and booby traps. The string is attached to a ring, which is used for a trip wire detonation. This model appears to support remote wireless detonation as well. I believe this is a mini-claymore. It has…”

  Jake interrupted, “I know what that is, will any of our transmissions set it off?”

  “I have set Sara’s suit to jam all local transmissions to prevent such an occurrence. Unfortunately, this means we lose all audio and video as well as positioning data. If we lose sight of her we won’t be able to track her.”

  “Jake do you want me to stop them?” Abby asked.

  “Don’t do anything Abby!” Jake ordered. He was not sure what this was all about but he knew it couldn’t be good if they took her. Whatever that was on her helmet, he wasn’t sure he wanted to test the suits ability to deal with it. Claymores in Jake’s time would rip someone to shreds with about 700 small metal BB’s behind a sizeable C4 charge. Granted those mines were much larger than this, but that was also over 70 years behind the one on Sara’s helmet. He was sure it was bad if that thing went off.

  “Follow them at a distance, but don’t lose her. Try not to be spotted and I’ll get back to you,” He finished.

  Redirecting his attention back to the earlier battle, if you could call it that, he could make out the four-hover cycles on the far side of the target area. Hovering at about 150 feet up, they were far enough up to avoid attracting too much fire, just the occasional stray round. The surviving remnants of the attacking force, those that had not run off, were cautiously heading south, and trying to skirt the death from above.

  Suddenly off to his left, more gunfire erupted as a group of men had taken position in a building on the far side of the park area. He could see the muzzle flashes from at least a half dozen rifles in the windows.

  “Damn, these guys just don’t give up!” Jake commented to no one in particular.

  While several rounds pinged off the shield of his cycle, he slid his ride slightly to one side and then gave it a down angle, directing his guns at the structure. While the rooftop machineguns below him suddenly opened up on the building, directed at the same threat, Jake fired off two bursts from the energy cannon mounted between his machineguns.

  A bright flash appeared where the wall had been and the side of the building collapsed into a pile of brick and rubble. He watched as a couple of the surviving aggressors scrambled for cover, definitely shaken up by the unexpected turn of events.

  “Jake, these guys here are now in full retreat, I think that last show of cannon fire put the fear of god in them all,” Joe reported.

  Jake looked back in Joe’s direction, and could see a disorderly retreat. What concerned him was it was not very hasty, more like a whipped dog trying to avoid more abuse. He didn’t expect military precision, but he kind of expected some sense of urgency.

  The truth of it came to him soon enough as he realized the living were pausing to scavenged from the dead and dying as they withdrew. Jake would have attributed it to the hungry just trying to survive until he watched someone knife a wounded man who was refusing to give up a bottle of some kind of booze. As he magnified his display, he could clearly see the label read Rum. It wasn’t likely water, as bottles made for poor field canteens and on their approach, he made out a running stream not far from here. As he watched, Abby cut in.

  “Jake, we are following as instructed. It looks like we are making for a large arena of some kind.”

  Jake pulled up the map with Abby and her teammate indicated as icons. His map displayed a large baseball stadium, marked Dodgers, dead ahead of their path from his position. That made some sense to Jake, most stadiums had perimeter fencing as well as limited passageways into and through the structure. They also have clear areas on all approaches as parking lots generally surrounded them.

  As he looked at this place, he realized it was a ready-made fort with raised ground all around and enough space to house an army. He also realized they had all but over flown this location on their approach. No wonder they went looking for Sara. They were looking for Jake’s entire team.

  ----*----

  Sara sat on her horse trying not to do anything that might make the string her captor held any tauter. He held enough slack in the line to prevent any accidental triggering of the device taped to her helmet. However if she fell from the saddle, she was toast and she knew it.

  She tried at first to contact Jake, ALICE or anyone, but so far, not one of them seemed to hear her. In addition, none of her tactical positioning displays or maps worked beyond her internal compass and life support. She left her faceplate mirrored and chose to keep quiet rather than engaging her captors. They followed her example, not antagonizing her in any exchange beyond the initial capture.

  As they rode along, she surveyed her surroundings, committ
ing the route to memory. She wanted to know her path back, should she find an opportunity to escape. After a long while she could see what she assumed was their final destination. It was a tall structure on a raised mound, overlooking all the surrounding area. She was sure that at some time in the past it was a kind of sports arena. At one point, to reach it, they had to cross over a riverbed with water running below. She was sure that the path they followed was once a roadway of some size.

  Several times along the way, groups of riders passed them, all headed to the same structure at a hurried pace. Eventually they turned and headed up a roadway that led straight to what Sara was sure was, at one time, some former stadium. As they approached, she could make out armed men up on the ramps and rooftops.

  Just over the bridge, they veered right, and then up a roadway, crossing a large open area. Sara was led up to the fencing circling the structure, and passed through one of the gated openings manned by armed men. They immediately passed through the opening in the stadium and then inside the building itself. Just inside, two more guards helped her off her horse. During the entire operation, the man holding the string never let go, insuring she could not bolt for freedom.

  Once inside and on her feet, the man with the string, with two guards trailing, guided her through several passages. Bare concrete and faded paint competed for dominance on the surrounding walls around them. Along the way, she saw several rooms with groups of people or haphazard stacks of supplies in disorganized, dangerously unstable piles. One room, that caught her attention as she passed, was full of military grade weapons. There was some bad stuff in there, she was sure of it, but didn’t get a good enough look before being pushed from behind by one of her two rear escorts.

  They walked for quite a while until they stopped in a room deep within the structure, its metal doorframe a sad testament to the door that once hung in the opening, the door itself now long gone. At this point, one of the men behind her removed the ropes on her wrists, spun her in place and then he re-tied them in front, leaving a little slack. Next, both men grabbed her and, lifting her arms above her head, hung her by the rope on her wrists. The rope looped over a rod with a slight hook extending out from the ceiling near the center of the room. The man with the string was there the whole time.

  Sara, unfortunately, was just short enough that her feet didn’t quite touch, so she dangled just off the floor, arms above her head. The slack in the rope allowed her hands to part just enough that the rope, not her wrists, took the dig from the rod. Her suit helped dissipate the pressure of the rope around her wrists, but not completely.

  The man with the string then stepped up and removed the device taped to her helmet and stepped back, gently tossing it up and down in his hand before finally setting it on a table near the far wall in the room. As the two men who hung her on the rod stood by, a few more wandered into the room, until there were seven or eight in total.

  Not entirely unconcerned about what came next, Sara watched the string man as he quietly stared at her until some asked, “Is that a dude or a broad?”

  “Let’s strip it and find out,” the one who had tied her wrists replied.

  No one seemed in a rush to be the first, finally the guy who asked the question stepped forward and started to remove Sara’s combat suit BDU top. Although no one could see her face behind her mirrored faceplate, Sara just smiled.

  Like the combat suit undergarment which sealed at the wrists to gloves and neck to helmet skirt, the over uniform also had molecular bonding at its edges. Properly adorned, the wrists sealed to the same glove seam as the undergarment. The BDU blouse sealed at its opening in the front and inside to the trousers at the waist, the rest of the jacket hanging over. The trouser legs sealed to the boots like a natural blousing and when buttoned up entirely, the neckline of the top to the helmet skirt.

  All this was less in aid of the NBC, or Nuclear, Biological and Chemical capabilities of the uniform. It was more in support of the multilayer bullet stopping capabilities of layer upon layer of the uniform material. With the undergarment and the multilayer BDU sealed tight, it was protection against any freak accident from an indirect hit or substantial direct hit.

  Sara had always been diligent about donning her uniform properly before, but after seeing Jake’s ribs from just undergarment protection, she was now doubly careful. Currently she was extra glad she was.

  “Hey this thing doesn’t have any openings!” the attempted stripper declared as he pulled and tugged at her BDU blouse and trousers. He had tried going over, under and around with no success.

  At that point, several more men stepped forward, running their hands all over her body, looking for some opening to exploit.

  “Well it’s got tits!” one man announced, as several more grabbed at her chest in confirmation.

  “Stand back,” the string man said while pushing several of the others away.

  Pulling out his knife, he tried to slit the front of her blouse, only to see the knife slide over the material undamaged.

  “What the...” he said, clearly confused.

  Next, he tried to slit Sara’s pant leg, with no success. He almost cut himself as the blade skipped off the material.

  “Screw this,” he swore as he took the knife and tried to stab Sara in the leg.

  “Ouch,” Sara said flatly, sounding as if she was bored with the whole thing.

  “TO hell with you,” the string man said, replacing his knife in its sheath and grabbing a bat leaning against one wall. It looked well used so Sara suspected it was a popular interrogation tool.

  Everyone stood back as he took several good swings at Sara’s middle section.

  Unlike the earlier rifle butt hit to the chest, which had been a large force in a concentrated area right over her solar plexus, the bat hits were actually across a large part of the front of Sara’s suit. This spread the force throughout the front of her BDU blouse and while not pleasant, it was far less of a threat to bodily injury.

  Add to this, she was swinging freely at this point and it almost made her laugh as string man stepped back panting.

  As he was getting ready to go for another round, a new man stepped into the room and bellowed, “What the hell are you doing?”

  Everyone stepped away from the bat wielder as he turned to the new arrival and said, “Cal, this is the bitch we captured riding those flyers Jax saw.”

  “And you are beating her why?” Cal asked.

  “We were trying to peel her uniform off, but it’s sealed somehow.”

  “And you think this will help?” the man called Cal replied, clearly questioning the sanity of the man.

  “No she pissed me off, here watch this,” with that he dropped the bat and pulling his knife, took several savage stabs at Sara before the man called Cal could stop him.

  “See,” he said, holding out the clean blade and pointing to Sara, indicating no visible wounds.

  The knife stabs had actually been more painful than the bat, but Sara bit her tongue rather than give anything away.

  Now it was Cal’s turn to stare at Sara. She could see this was the leader of the rabble, and he looked far more intelligent than the rest combined.

  “Put her in the hole for now,” was all he said before turning and walking out of the room.

  Chapter 10

  Jake checked his display noting everyone’s locations and then requested a status report from Abby. She reported that she watched the group she had been following lead Sara directly into the stadium. They had to stay high to avoid detection and from her location, she could see as many as 30 to 40 armed men guarding the stadium.

  Jake asked her to locate and secure a safe oversight of that location and dig in. Jake also asked ALICE to dig up everything she had on that stadium. He had been to a Dodgers game once while in LA, but he doubted very much that it still resembled anything like it did then.

  While he waited for confirmation from Abby, he continued to watch the last remnants of the attacking forces dwindle
away. Once Abby replied that a spot just north of the stadium gave her an excellent view, Jake sent the other two troopers from A Troop to assist her. He wanted to ensure there were no more potential hostages, so this was recon in force. He also reminded them not to draw attention to themselves. Fly low.

  While all this organization was occurring, ALICE informed Jake that the Revenge was finished with its rework in Alaska and as instructed, was currently departing for space trials. Jake had completely forgotten about his instructions not all that long ago, a pointed reminder about two front wars.

  With A Troop securely dug in on a hilltop and with ALICE on over-watch of the stadium as a whole, Jake recalled the B Troop. They were currently insuring that no stragglers got any ideas of circling back on the compound. With Joe and his troopers stationed 100 feet up on all four corners of the compound below, tactfully pointed outward, Jake slowly descended on his ride. He was making it obvious that the move was to land in the open space inside the walls, where they had seen the children play earlier.

  With rooftop guns following his entire decent, he softly landed in the yard, Chris already standing in the yard near the building ready to receive him. As Jake climbed off his hover cycle, his ribs gave him a sharp jab, giving him a quick reminder with the twist of his torso as he swung his leg over.

  “You just saved a lot of lives here,” Chris opened with as he approached Jake, “That’s the biggest group I’ve ever seen sent to challenge us.”

  “I don’t think it was you they were coming for,” Jake replied, “They grabbed one of my people and took her to the stadium,” he finished.

  “That’s bad,” he replied with a concerned look on his face, “that place is full of really bad people. We’ve had people taken before, only one got away.”

  “Any chance I can talk to that person?” Jake asked optimistically, internal Intel was a lifesaver, literally.

  “She won’t talk about it, but you can try. They did bad things to her, and she only escaped because they thought she was dead. We found her naked and beaten, cuts and bruises everywhere. She had crawled into the nearby creek bed and passed out, the water probably saved her,” he finished.