Gods of War (Jethro goes to war Book 5)

by Chris Hechtl

  “Oh, nothing,” Shemp said innocently as he waggled his hand in a good-by motion and pocketed the punch dagger. “I'll see you at the pickup point,” he said as they heard feet on the stairs.

  Moe grimaced and put the pistol away. Shemp would be a loose end someone else would have to deal with he thought. “Go on then,” he growled as he turned. Curly blocked his way so he slapped him. “Get on with you!” he said, pointing back the way they'd come.

  “All right already! Don't be so mean!” Curly said as he rubbed his reddened cheek.

  Shemp shook his head and went down the stairs as a couple came up it. He made a hole politely so they could pass. One sniffed in disdain at him. He made a rotten face but then quickly schooled it when she turned to look at him.

  “Have a nice day, ma'am,” he said with one hand over his heart.

  <)>^<)>/

  Ghost crawled through the air ducts weakly to exit a vent where she could be seen. She fell bonelessly to the floor. People passing by stepped over or around her. She tried to get their attention, then passed out briefly.

  A concerned LEO saw her and came over and knelt to inspect her. “You can't lay on the job,” he said as he turned her enough to see her bloody fur. “Bloody hell,” he muttered. He looked up and pulled out his whistle and blew off a blast. That alerted everyone in the area something was wrong. A second and third blast brought other bobbies running with one hand holding their hats down and the other holding a baton ready for battle.

  “Got to … stop them …,” Ghost said, one hand pressed to her wounded side.

  “Easy miss, help's on the way,” the local LEO said. He pointed to one of the guys and then hand-signed to call in an ambulance. “Anyone here a doctor or nurse?” he asked, looking around the gathering crowd. He felt a touch on his hand and looked down at the gray cat. “Try to stay with us, ma'am. Try to … damn it, I'm not a doctor,” he muttered helplessly.

  “Ss … important. Bomb …”

  “What's that? A bomb?” the cop said, eyes narrowing in sudden concern. The crowd backed away in fear.

  “Aircraft. Bomb over … city,” Ghost coughed. It hurt so bad. “Kill thousands ….” She tried to point.

  The cop looked at her open vent and then looked around and then back down to her. “Frack, Alert! Red Alert!” he called out, blasting his whistle again.

  Ghost closed her eyes but then opened them when a familiar scent came near. She opened then and looked around, then spotted a guy walking by the group. “Him,” she said weakly, raising her good hand to point. “Ssss …tooo …”

  The cop looked over his shoulder to see a human with a mop of black curly hair in a bad suit moving quickly away. The guy looked over his shoulder to them and that told him something was off. He pointed his baton. “Stop that man!” he snarled. His two fellow LEOs looked and then took off after the man as the crowd parted for them.

  <)>^<)>/

  Shemp saw the two flatfoots charging after him and dropped from his casual trot to a full run for the elevators and stairs. He was cut off though when the nearest elevator opened with another flatfoot and medic standing there.

  He turned and grabbed a woman by the hair and then pulled out his punch dagger and put it to the woman's throat. “Come any closer, and the woman gets it! You'll never take me alive,” he said, edging to the safety railing. He'd heard they could do awful things to him, take his brain apart. Bugger that he thought.

  <)>^<)>/

  “I think not,” the second cop said as he pointed his baton.

  “You've got him?” the third said as the fourth pulled his baton and pushed people away. He kept looking over his shoulder at the hostage scene.

  “Oh, yeah,” the cop said, aiming the baton.

  “What do you …,” that was as far as Shemp got to say before the stunner went off. He dropped the dagger from his nerveless fingers and fell with his hostage to the deck senseless.

  “Geeze, cutting it close, Patty,” the third cop said as he moved in to kick the weapon away, then flip the suspect onto his stomach to secure his hands behind his back.

  “It worked, didn't it?” Patty said as he recovered the weapon and then checked the woman. “Nothing to see here folks; go about your business,” he said as the medic moved in. “Save it, Doc, the cat down the way needs you more,” he said, pointing the way he'd come.

  The medic paused, then nodded and took off with her bag at a trot.

  “Someone want to tell me what the devil's going on?” the fourth cop demanded.

  “Bugger if I know. But it's a doozy I guess,” Patty said as he called in the catch and then made sure the powers that be knew that the bomb threat was real.

  <)>^<)>/

  As Fourth Division got a grip on the planet and the Army Brigade finished settling in, Second Division began to ship out. The longest units on the planet were the first to go. The senior officers were obviously reluctant to lose the manpower, but they knew the personnel deserved the time off.

  Not all of the personnel were destined to return with their unit to Agnosta for rest and refit. Some were going on leave; others were going to new assignments where they would go on a brief leave before taking up light duty.

  Colonel Pendeckle was the first to get the alert since his division was still covering security of the towns and cities. He demanded more information as Colonel Kodiak was also informed.

  Valenko knew the information was initially vague but he realized the threat instantly. He also noted there was a platoon at the spaceport in the process of being shipped out. The timing couldn't be even more excruciating to him. Many in the platoon had native friends there with them to see them off plus some of their off duty comrades were there as well.

  Nor could he get involved in the situation since Colonel Pendeckle had command of the units involved. He was on the sidelines … but he could extend some information he thought. “Signal Fourth Division Alpha. Use these exact words. Hijacked airship is a possible dirty bomb,” he snarled.

  “Yes, sir,” Pinash said quietly.

  <)>^<)>/

  Air traffic control was a new thing for the natives on Protodon. Aircraft usually stuck to certain lanes, usually where the winds were going in the general direction they wanted to go … and of course avoiding any tall structures along that path.

  Given that there was a large uptick in air traffic after the tsunami, it was a given that they would need someone to monitor and guide the various crafts in the air. The natives liked aircraft, and with modern technology becoming available, they weren't ready to let it go or switch to more convenient ground equipment imported from outside their star system.

  It had taken a series of deadly accidents, one involving a bus load of kids, before they had gotten serious about traffic control however. The bus had been taking off fully loaded and had risen into a drifting dirigible that had no business being there. The resulting crash had dropped both aircraft and flaming debris all over the buildings below. That had sparked structural fires all over the city that had taken days to put out. It was another case of the burnt hand; laws were immediately passed to do something about it after the hue and outcry from the public.

  At first aircraft had been banned from flying over population centers. That had changed to aircraft following specific air lanes at specific altitudes along a specific flight plan filed in advance of takeoff. They had to have a beacon and monitor radio traffic while also keeping track of the space around them for hazards. The air traffic controllers monitored each lane and each aircraft in motion. Keeping track of them in three dimensions had required the addition of computer support and radar arrays to make sense of it all.

  Months of debugging the system and some calls to remove it were endured before they had an end product that cut air collisions and near-death experiences by over 80 percent in one year. When those numbers were happily announced, additional laws were passed that set stiff penalties to those who ignored the controllers' directions. They also passed strict safe
ty, licensing, insurance, inspection, and regular maintenance laws. After that collisions dropped another 15 percent and in-flight emergencies were halved, though many operators complained that the regulations were excessive and were taking the fun and profit out of flying.

  When an airship drifted over the city without a valid flight plan, the computers instantly sent out a warning. They then backed that up with an irate air controller demanding over the radio to know what the hell the pilots thought they were doing. There was no response.

  Local law enforcement was informed just as the warning of a bomb went out over the network.

  Then, to add insult to injury, a Marine fast-moving surveillance drone moved in through their carefully structured air lanes. It bobbed and weaved and seemed determined to stay on a course for the wayward air lorry.

  When the drone got in range, it started to beam back information to its controllers. A profile of the target was quickly built off of its thermal and other scans. There were two occupants on board according to the thermal scans. The design of the craft was not recognized, so they couldn't get a handle on its flight abilities or characteristics.

  Then the drone's Geiger counter got into range and went off.

  <)>^<)>/

  “Okay, we definitely need to get this thing contained and fast. Who do we have in the area?” Colonel Pendeckle demanded.

  “None of our units are available, sir.”

  “Frack! Get them going now! Is that drone armed?”

  “No, sir. It's a surveillance drone. We can um, ram it …”

  “No, that might set them off. Find me a gunship and fast! Or an armed drone or hell, throw rocks at it!”

  “Yes, sir!”

  <)>^<)>/

  Dom had been in the docks overseeing his people take on a new load when he heard about the altercation. When he heard about the alert, he contacted an LEO. The guy shook his head. “Damned if I know, Santini. Something about a bomb in an air lorry? You wouldn't know anything about it would you?”

  “Me? Pshaw,” Dom said. He scowled though. “But I think I better call someone and find out,” he said, taking off at a trot for his ship.

  <)>^<)>/

  “Lone Wolf, this is Santini One; we've got ourselves a situation,” Caitlin heard over the radio. She frowned as Dom repeated the call.

  “String, Dom's on the radio. There is something going on. I've been getting air traffic control warnings in the city.”

  “What now?” String asked tiredly. They had been on alert for an op for twenty hours straight. Locke had sworn this one was a go … and they'd geared up for it. They'd been in the air when it had been scrubbed.

  “String, Caitlin, if you are near, we've got a serious problem here. There is an air lorry with a bomb …,” Dom said.

  “A what?” String demanded.

  <)>^<)>/

  “Sir, we're monitoring radio traffic. We've got a militia gunship in the area. It's Lone Wolf One. It's nearby. If they hustle, they can get in and help,” Captain Ellington reported.

  “Then put them on the horn and get them moving,” Colonel Pendeckle ordered.

  “You're live, sir.”

  “Lone Wolf One, this is Two Alpha. We've got a hijacked air lorry with what looks like a nuclear bomb on board. We need you to get in there and stop it. Fast.”

  “Roger that,” a startled String said as Dom began to cuss and swear in the background.

  “No one said anything about nuclear!” Dom said, clearly aggrieved.

  “Can it, Dom. Get as many people as you can out of there,” String ordered.

  “Right. Roger that,” Dom said, settling down. “You two be careful,” he said as he stopped transmitting.

  The colonel nodded. “Yes, but please hurry,” he murmured as he watched the glaring red dot move closer to the center of the city. “Alert the authorities. Get people under shelter. It looks like it is on a course for the spaceport. Let them know.”

  “Yes, sir.” the Neochimp captain said with a nod as he turned and began to issue the orders.

  <)>^<)>/

  Curly looked at the mirrors, and then looked over his shoulder through the open doorway into the cargo module and out the back to the dirty window. He could see the gunship buzzing around them.

  Instinctively, he turned away but the gunship cut him off and forced them away from the center of town and their intended drop zone where they want to be to start deploying the bombs. The original plan had been to hit the open air markets and business districts, plus a corner of the industrial district before they hit the spaceport and the Marines there waiting to leave. “This ain't good. We're not going to get where we need to be,” he said as he dodged around a blimp.

  “Stick to the plan! Lose them if you can,” Moe growled.

  “It's not going to work I'm telling you!” Curly said as he wrestled with the steering wheel. Why someone had put one in and not a more conventional yoke or stick he had no clue.

  “Stick to the plan!” Moe ground out. “It'll work!”

  “The plans changed! Don't you see that?!?” Curly demanded, glancing at his partner.

  “But!?!?”

  “Get a clue, Moe! They won't let us!” Curly said motioning to the gunship dogging them.

  “We tell them to back off or else,” Moe said savagely. He started coughing though.

  “Or else what? They can shoot us down at any time!” Curly said.

  “And if they do, they'll set off what they don't want …,” Moe left the threat hanging.

  “And? If they think we're going to do it anyway?”

  “Shut up, I'm trying to think here,” Moe snarled.

  “Well, think faster!” Curly snarled back as he went back to flying.

  <)>^<)>/

  “We need to get this thing and get it fast before it goes off,” Colonel Pendeckle snarled as he got word of the unfolding incident. “Are our people getting under cover?”

  “Yes, sir. The klaxons are going off. But sir, the panic from this thing is just as dangerous as the weapon itself.”

  “Damn it. Do we have anyone in range?”

  “The Lone Wolf group is vectoring in now. The local LEOs are out of position but moving in as well.”

  “Tell them to hurry or their tardy arrival may not matter except in the cleanup,” the colonel growled.

  <)>^<)>/

  Lone Wolf had broken air regs left and right to get onto the tail of the suspect ship. The ship's attempt to get away told them that something bad was up. The drone report alone told them it wasn't good. “What do we do?” Caitlin asked worriedly. “We can't play cat and mouse games forever here, String,” she warned.

  “We …,” String paused. He wasn't sure what to do. He heard an angry air control person yelling at them on the radio.

  “This is Wolf One. Clear this channel and clear the airspace now! We've got a major bomb on that suspect airship, and we need a clear space now!” he snarled.

  “Bomb? Did he say bomb?” the startled controller echoed. “I thought he said … wait, we're getting a report of a bomb …”

  “That told them,” Caitlin said. “Someone's out of the loop though,” she said.

  “It's happening rather fast,” String said, thinking hard. He keyed the microphone again. “Tell everyone to get to shelter now. Everyone on the ground. Sound the alarm,” he ordered.

  “Are you going to shoot them down, String? If you do, it'll do what they want the bombs to do. Spread that poison all over the area,” Caitlin warned.

  “Damn it,” String said as he bobbed and weaved through traffic. He ducked down when he lost the target, then hit the afterburner to go up. He flipped the engines into vertical to hover there until he picked out the target trying to get back to its drop point.

  “I've got an idea,” Caitlin said.

  “I'm all ears,” String said, desperate for an answer.

  “We've got that EMP bomb. If you can get it just right, we can set it off and shut them down like the cop
s can do. Then we can get in and pick them up.”

  “Catching them on the fly? This is a gunship not a fishing boat, Caitlin!” String said.

  “What, you've got a better idea?” she demanded indignantly from the back seat.

  “No,” String said dubiously. “How are you planning on catching them?”

  “We've got a cable to drop the bomb.”

  String grunted. The original plan for the EMP bomb was to drop it down a shaft, then set it off before allowing the Marines to drop in and follow. That mission had been scrubbed though when they'd gotten word that the base they'd been about to hit had exploded when it had been probed by a group of drones.

  “Let's do it,” he said.

  “If we miss, it could hit the ground and blow up anyway,” Caitlin said worriedly as she set up the shot.

  “Better to try than not at all,” String said.

  “We're as ready as we're ever going to be. We've only got the one so you'd better make it count, String,” she warned.

  “Roger,” String said as he dropped his visor. A targeting reticule appeared in his vision as well as on the visor. He maneuvered the craft to get above and slightly behind the running air lorry.

  <)>^<)>/

  “I think we lost him,” Curly said as he looked around them. “I don't see them,” he said.

  Moe turned to check his side, then down below. He just so happened to see motion out of the corner of his right eye. He turned to see the gray craft coming in from above, stooping like a hawk. “It's above us on our six!” he said urgently just as something exploded above them.

  Then the instruments went dead, and the engines began to spool down. What the hell just happened?” he demanded.

  <)>^<)>/

  “We got them!” Caitlin said. “Nice shot! Now for some roping,” she said as she dropped the line into the spinning blades. The blades would auto-rotate the craft to the ground in a not quite gentle landing, but they couldn't chance the pilots setting the bomb off or deliberately crashing it to try to set the bomb off.

  The end of the cable had a weight on it to keep it clear of the aircraft. The downdraft kicked it around just the same as did their motion and the motion of the enemy craft. But her luck at roping or fishing, whatever she wanted to call it held, she got the cable into the right rear engine rotors. They did the rest, winding the cable up, then locking onto it.