Gods of War (Jethro goes to war Book 5)

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Gods of War (Jethro goes to war Book 5) Page 12

by Chris Hechtl


  “So she did it. She can go back to her studies when they return? The tribes have been looking forward to seeing what she's learned,” Arnaaluk said as she came over to the outsiders. “It's why she went, so she could pass on what she learned to others like me. Now you are saying she wasn't allowed to learn it? Why? Why would you lie?”

  “We have great need for pilots of the ships. She will be allowed to return to her studies eventually,” Tia said soothingly.

  “It's swimming the godsea like our ancestors did. You do it in a tank,” Miki said enthusiastically.

  The adults looked skeptically at him and then to the outsiders. “A tank like the fish tanks? Why would we want to do that? It sounds like anyone could do it. Why was she needed? Are there so few of you?”

  The human cleared his throat. The group settled down enough to hear him. “No, but there are very few like you who can pilot a ship so well,” the lieutenant explained. “Flying some places is like … like the kelp beds. Trying to get through takes someone of great skill. You people have that skill we lack.”

  “I bet she wasn't thrilled about being press-ganged into service, which is why we're catching flack,” Al muttered.

  “Press-ganged?” Akrittok demanded, catching what he said. Tia and the lieutenant glared at Al, making him wince.

  “He means being ordered to do something to help the Navy and doing it,” Tia interpreted for them. Jethro fought to keep himself impassive. He watched the selkie warily for signs of trouble.

  “But she can go back to learning how to be a doctor once she returns, right?” a selkie asked.

  “They took her out of class. It disrupted her schedule and her standings,” Arnaaluk said, crossing her arms as she stared at Kendra. “I'm right, aren't I?”

  “Yeah,” Kendra said slowly as she glanced at the lieutenant. “But she can make the courses up …”

  “If she's allowed to. Since they need us so badly, they will want her to continue,” a female said, eying the group.

  “True,” Kuvageeegai said thoughtfully. He didn't seem at all happy. “So, we sign up and then they make us do what they want us to do, not follow the careers we agreed on,” he said slowly.

  “It's …,” the lieutenant caught himself before he denied it too far and got himself further into trouble. “ …It's complicated,” he said lamely.

  “I'm sure it is,” Akrittok drawled, eying him severely. The lieutenant hunched his shoulders for a moment, then remembered himself and stood straight and tall. He squared his shoulders and stared defiantly back at her.

  “The only way to be certain is to choose wisely,” an elder said. She eyed the group. “I suggest you all do so before you leave here,” she suggested as the natives started to disperse.

  “Shit,” the lieutenant murmured, realizing they might be in trouble. He stared at the group.

  “Marine or Navy—I think I will stay with the sea. I'll go Marine. That way they can't force me to be anything other than what I want to be,” Akrittok said firmly. “After all, that's what Deja did, right?” she demanded.

  “Something like that,” Jethro muttered. Deja was a complicated case he knew. “Though he did pilot Firefly too,” he expanded for them. They looked at him in confusion. “Deja was a helmsman and pilot before he joined up. He was caught by the pirates and tortured to be a helmsman for them. When he was rescued in Pyrax, he joined the Marines instead of the Navy. He is a pilot again but on his own terms,” he explained carefully. “The Navy has asked him to change branches, but he has refused. They have not pressed the issue.”

  Lieutenant Johnson winced at the show of Jethro's honesty but didn't say anything.

  There was a long moment as the group contemplated that and their options. When the silence seemed to stretch uncomfortably long, Jethro wondered who would be the first to speak. He didn't have to guess; Tia raised her hand. All eyes turned to her.

  “So you aren't backing out?” Tia asked carefully, eying the juvenile.

  “No. But I'm not happy about being tricked,” Kuvageegai said eying Lieutenant Johnson severely.

  “No one said anything about being tricked,” the lieutenant said with as much dignity as he could muster.

  “No, that's just it. You didn't, did you? You didn't want me to know. Us to know.” He indicated the other selkie. “Not until it was too late for any of us to see the trap you were leading us into. You lied. Some promise of following your heart and making a better future for yourself and your people. You just want us where you want us. Drones,” Kuvageegai said in bitter disgust.

  “No one lied; we just didn't mention the possibility,” the lieutenant said.

  “A lie of omission is still a lie,” Nauja said, clearly put out over being naive. “Everyone wants something; I should have realized there was a hidden cost.”

  “But you are going?” Kendra asked, eying the female.

  “Yes. Like I have a choice,” she said bitterly, indicating her injuries. “I'm a liability here. I might as well cut my own throat if I stayed.”

  Kendra looked concerned but didn't say anything.

  “What about you?” Zanjeer asked, looking at Akrittok. The female stared back at him.

  “I said I'm going. I have no place here. To be what … I don't know yet. I'll figure it out as I go,” Akrittok said with a nod.

  “Fair enough,” Zanjeer said with an eye to the lieutenant. “At least we've still got our foot in the door,” he texted to the group. He turned to Miki.

  “I'm going,” Miki said firmly.

  All eyes turned to Kuvageegai. He grunted. “I'll go, but I'm going to be a Marine too,” he said firmly.

  “And you?” Tia asked, eying Nauja.

  “I'll go. I need the medical help you promised. If you give me life, I'll serve where you need me,” Nauja said quietly. She shifted to indicate her missing flipper arm.

  “Me too,” Sangilak said indicating the stump of his leg. “It's not like I can do anything here.”

  “Okay then.”

  “I think we're not welcome anymore though,” Kendra said quietly. She nodded her chin to the elders who were discussing the situation. Lieutenant Johnson looked over his shoulder to them.

  “I think we need to leave on a high note before they throw us out,” he sent via text to the others. The troop nodded individually.

  “Okay, um, why don't you folk say your goodbyes. I think you are already packed?” Tia asked, eying the pups. All of them nodded. “Okay then. Let's get the truck loaded and get out of here.”

  Chapter 7

  Pete Danvers was nervous, not that he wanted it to show. To anyone else this was just another workday—not that anyone was in the room with him. At least, he hoped not he thought.

  He'd swept the room when he'd used his skeleton key to gain access. The key wasn't registered to him so he knew the entry wouldn't be traced back to him.

  Nerves he thought as he worked. Just nerves, just something to get over he thought as he slid the pancake sized device in-between the mattress and box spring.

  He had worked through various assassination ideas while the Neocat had been on base. When the Neocat had left, he'd thought he'd missed his opportunity. But a judicious check had told him the cat's gear was still there. He was also still in the database, so he had to be coming back sometime.

  His near loss of killing his target had spurred him to action. What action had taken him all of a day to think through. He'd finally settled on a bomb. Sometimes the simplest were the best methods, even if they weren't up close and personal. A remote trigger was out so he had to go with a mechanical one rigged to the bed.

  Explosives weren't really his thing. He'd learned about them in an assist on another job years ago, so that was another reason he'd kept it all simple. A simple mechanical trigger rigged to the center of the bed. When the pressure plate was triggered by the weight of a body pressing down, it would arm the device. When the weight shifted or came off, it would set off the device.

  It wa
s essentially a mine—old fashioned, but effective. His used a mix of fertilizer and chemicals he had access to as a janitor. They were pretty common, so they would be practically impossible to trace. He'd taped the outside of the explosive with screws and scrap metal to help do as much damage as possible to his intended target.

  He needed to get it set up and then out of the room fast. The longer the cameras in the hall were disabled the longer someone had to realize it and wonder why. He, unfortunately, didn't have the skills to loop the camera feed in the system; that was a blind spot he hoped he wouldn't regret.

  He finished setting the trigger between the mattress and the box spring. A small hole he'd cut with a box cutter allowed him to fish the wire through. The wire would connect to the piezoelectric barbeque ignitor he'd rigged. The crystal would generate the spark to ignite the bomb. He wiped the area and wire he'd touched down with a solvent pad and then crawled out from under the bed. His cart was where he left it. He pulled open the box and checked the bomb within.

  <)>^<)>/

  Lieutenant Whitman got an alert and looked up. He frowned and was about to check his email but instead pulled up the alert on his desktop screen. He wasn't thrilled about the interruption and wasn't exactly certain when it had gone off, but the beep had repeated so he'd forced himself away from the briefing about the Bismark incident he'd been reading and to the here and now.

  His frown intensified when he noted the location. “Oh, what the hell now?” he said in soft exasperation. The McClintock quarters, of course. McClintock had been one big headache for him from day one. The fact that the cat was out of his fur for the moment and out of his eyesight was as much a blessing as it was a curse.

  He shook his head as he tapped out an inquiry to the security system then logged into it to access the feed. They were down in the sergeant's hallway, which was odd. His frown grew.

  He leaned forward and typed in an inquiry to the vidcams he had set up in the sergeant's quarters. These were not a part of the security network. They were also unpowered until he sent a remote command to turn them on.

  The screens changed from snow to an image of one of the human janitors on his knees next to the bed. “Oh, what the hell is that idiot up to? I told housekeeping to not bother with …,” the lieutenant stopped abruptly when he saw the cart with the wires and device in an open cardboard box on top of the cart. His fur instantly rose in agitation.

  “Shit!” he said as the human picked the device up gingerly and then laid on his back before he slid it under the bed.

  “Son of a bitch!” the lieutenant said as he pulled up a file and read its contents. He'd never thought he'd need the “In the event of a possible assassination attempt” file so he'd only skimmed it.

  He checked the timeline and his current location as item five specified. Since the sergeant was returning to base, he had to act.

  Considering a bomb was involved and he'd seen the damn thing, he damn well better act he thought as he rose out of his chair. “And fast,” he muttered. He snagged a freeze frame of the perp and then did a quick and dirty ID. “Pete Danvers,” he read out loud, then tapped a key to send it to base security with an armed and dangerous tag along with a detain order. He then rushed out of his office to be in on the capture …

  And to keep everyone and anyone out of that room he thought as he hit the stairs two at a time.

  <)>^<)>/

  Pete finished connecting the wire and then wormed his shoulders back and forth and moved his legs so he was lying beside the bed. He reached in … this was the tricky part he recognized. The device was set but not ready. Not until he pulled the arming pin.

  If he'd built it wrong and it went off prematurely, like for instance with the weight of the mattress setting it off, it would go off. He'd built it so the charge would go mostly upwards, but that was the operative word, mostly. He used a bent coat hanger to hook the pin wire at arm's length, then he slowly pulled it out. Once the pin was out, he rolled instinctively away and into a fetal position.

  When nothing happened, he opened his eyes and then slowly turned to look. No blinding flash, no bang answered his tempting fate so he rose to his feet and brushed himself off. He wiped down the area again and then used a little cleaner bot to vacuum the carpet where he'd been. No sense giving the investigators any of his DNA, though any they did find could be explained by his being a janitor he knew.

  When the robot finished up, he flipped the box to the lower deck of his cart; he'd have to dispose of it later he knew. He picked up and set the bot on top of the cart and then moved out of the room. He locked the door behind him, wiped it, and then whistled casually to himself as he went on his way.

  Today was a good day he thought. And it was going to get better for him once the fireworks went off he knew.

  <)>^<)>/

  Pete thought he was home free … that was right up until his elevator car opened and a group of no-nonsense MPs and a Neochimp lieutenant met him at the door. “Um, hi, fellas,” he said as weapons were drawn and pointed at him.

  <)>^<)>/

  Lieutenant Whitman got out of the way as a bomb disposal team moved in. He turned to the suspect. They'd cuffed his hands together and searched him, then sat him down in an empty room. He hadn't been interrogated … nor read his rights at the moment.

  He turned back to the janitor. His implants were keyed to read the janitor's vital signs. He needed to get a baseline, but he hadn't done many interrogations before. Besides, the subject was already agitated by getting busted; he wasn't certain if he could get anything useful. Still, he monitored the vital signs to see if he could catch him in a lie.

  “Honestly, I don't know what's going on. I mean …,” the man's eyes were wide and frightened.

  “Here's the deal. You went into someone's quarters …”

  “I'm a janitor. That's what we do!” Pete protested. “I'm innocent I tell you!”

  “Sure you are. And we locked them down yet you went into them anyway was because?” he asked as Gunny Shep stepped into the room. The MP opened his mouth but then shut it.

  Pete's eyes went to the Neodog as if imploring him to see reason. “I'm a janitor! I … I clean!” he said helplessly, waving his hands. “It's what I do!”

  “Really?” the lieutenant scoffed. He pulled out a tablet and turned it on. He keyed up an image from the cameras within the sergeant's room and then froze it at a particularly damning moment. He then turned and showed it to Shep and then to the would-be assassin. “Kinda funny looking breath mint you are leaving there isn't it? A bit big. And I seem to recall you usually left them on the bed, not under it,” he said maliciously.

  Pete stared at the image. He knew now that he'd been caught and that he was toast. If they didn't sweat him, possibly torture him soon, they would eventually. He didn't want to go through that. Nor would he turn on his family … and he knew they were going to turn on him as soon as they found out he was in custody.

  And if he didn't end it, not only would he lose his life, but so would his parents and siblings. No, there wasn't anything else he could do he thought as he rapid fire thought of a way out. There was no way to run, and if he tried to get a weapon, he'd be stunned. One alternative left he thought as he used his tongue to flick open a false tooth. A capsule slid out and dropped onto his tongue.

  “You're busted. Now, we're going to talk about who you know, how you communicate with them … all that. We can do it the easy way …,” Khadat started to leave the threat hanging but saw the suspect twitch and then go still. “Or …”

  Suddenly the suspect started to seize. He slid to his knees and then to the floor, twitching.

  “He's …,” Shep started to move in, but Khadat stopped him with an arm block. “Don't. We don't want a hostage situation.” He turned, still keeping one eye on the suspect in case he was faking. “Suspect down! We need a medic here!” he called out and sent with his implants via text message.

  “Stat!” he said when he noted the foam that sta
rted to ooze out of the man's mouth. “Damn it!” he said as his implants indicated the man's vital signs flatlining across the board. “Move people!” he called out, knowing it was already a lifetime too late.

  “Poison,” Shep sniffed carefully.

  <)>^<)>/

  General Forth arrived on the scene when he heard the report of an incident and bomb. He was furious about the bomb, and one look at his expression told anyone who needed to be elsewhere to get there quick. “Talk to me,” he growled when an Alastatian MP pointed out a Neomutt getting out of some rather cumbersome looking armor. The ONI Neochimp was there with him. Both junior officers braced to attention when he stomped over to them.

  “The good news is, it was localized, sir. It would have taken out the sergeant's bed and a bit of the surrounding area, but the blast would have been largely confined to his room,” the bomb squad leader reported.

  “Nice way of finding a silver lining there, Lieutenant,” the general growled.

  “Sorry, sir,” the lieutenant replied.

  The general eyed him and then exhaled noisily. “Not your fault, I'm just griping at it happening at all. Clearly we underestimated their determination.” He turned to the ONI lieutenant. “Right?”

  “Yes, sir,” the Neochimp replied, clearly nettled that it had happened at all. He was kicking himself internally for not taking the threat more seriously than he had. “Unless the message was that they were going to keep trying. Or was there a message at all? Was this a distraction or a lone wolf?”

  “You think you are reading too much into it?”

  “Possibly, sir. I think, hope, they will keep a lower profile.”

  “You hope? I thought we needed to flush them out?” the general demanded.

  The lieutenant nodded. “Yes, sir, but that was certainly enough excitement for one evening. If at all possible, I'd recommend the sergeant be kept busy and in the field or away from groups as much as possible, sir. This was blatant and well, not very well thought out.”

  “I know. I saw that too. When I heard your initial report, I kept thinking to myself, a bomb? Really?” the general said with a shake of his head. “It doesn't make sense. He or Bast would have detected it.”

 

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