Silent Running (The Hope Island Chronicles Book 3)

by PJ Strebor

He jogged away subduing a chuckle. More doors, more signs. One stood out. Armory. He would need a security key to access it. Where the hell are they keeping the prisoners?

  Nathan stopped and mopped his sweaty face. Intell said this was a research facility. Another group of egg heads trying to find a cure for the plague. So, there’s a military presence but it’s not designed as a military base. The Pruessens wanted to examine the captured monitor and needed a place where they could work without being disturbed. A plague planet certainly fit the bill. So, if I was a military officer, attached to a civilian base, where would I keep prisoners? He’d seen part of the base but had, so far, passed no doors with guards posted outside.

  The question in his mind kept repeating. How long can I get away with this charade? Standing before the hatch to the senior mess, he took a deep breath. Hopefully at this time of the morning there would be few, if any people present. Nathan pressed the admit button and stepped inside. He breathed a sigh of relief. No one else here. The fruit juice dispenser caught his eye.

  He had just poured his third cup of fresh orange juice when the hatch opened. A man, around Nathan’s age stepped inside and approached. Nathan smiled, nodded.

  “Good morning,” the stranger said.

  “Mornin’.”

  Like Nathan his clothes were sweat-soaked. He gulped the first cup of juice and sipped at the second.

  “Ah, that’s better. Got to keep hydrated, right?”

  Nathan chuckled. “Yep.”

  “I haven’t seen you around here before, have I?”

  “I don’t know.” Nathan smiled. “Who are you?

  Careful.

  “Ha, fair point. Lance Neubert. Biology department.” He held out his hand.

  Nathan shook the hand of the Pruessen, forcing a smile.

  “Hans Schmidt, tech first class.”

  “Schmidt? Any relation to –”

  “No, thank god.” They both chuckled. “It’s a pretty common name, right?”

  “Yeah, right. So Hans, do you like to work out?”

  “When I’m not expected to do four people’s work in half the time, I love it.”

  “Ha, I know what you mean. Probably why I haven’t seen you around.”

  “Yeah.” Nathan refilled his cup. What can I get out of this square head? “Been here weeks and I have little idea of the layout.”

  “Ah, you’re a newbie. Came in on the Cormorant last month, I bet.”

  “Damn, was that a month ago?” Nathan shook his head.

  “Yeah. She’s back tomorrow. Just as well since we’re getting low on water.”

  “I just hope she’s got the service parts I ordered,” Nathan lied. “It’s driving me mad not being able to complete my work. Not that this place isn’t driving me a little stir-crazy anyway.”

  “Yeah, it can get to you after a while,” the Pruessen said. “Hey, if you haven’t seen much of the base I could show you the lay of the land. I’ve got an hour spare.”

  “Sure, why not.”

  Forty minutes later Nathan had a good idea of the base’s layout. Yet at no time had he seen any sign of Athenian prisoners. Back on the same level where they’d started he noticed a flight of stairs leading up. He moved toward them.

  “That’s military up there. You know quarters, communications and security. No civilians are allowed up there.”

  Security?

  “Damn silly idea if you ask me. But, you know, no one ever does.”

  “I hear you. So Hans, you think you can find your way around here now?”

  “Sure, Lance, and thanks for the tour.”

  “No worries. Maybe I’ll catch you around in another month or so?”

  They both laughed. “Yeah, you can never tell.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Date: 24th July, 326 ASC

  Position: One au from Saint Joan.

  Status: Deception, locked into a circular holding pattern. Alert condition two.

  “Well?” the commander grumbled.

  Jane looked up from her computer screen irritation eating at her. “I’m locked out. I can’t get in until the program runs its course.”

  “You’re my computer expert, Jane, I don’t want to hear can’t.”

  “Commander, if this was a reprogramming input I could probably work around it. But this is so simple it’s complicated.”

  “Is that supposed to make sense to me?”

  Jane shook her head and bit her bottom lip. “Put it this way. Reprogramming I can work around. But this is too simple. A timer, commander, just a simple timer. But it’s locked in at a level I cannot access. I should be able to but for some reason I can’t.”

  “That’s not good enough, Jane,” the Commander said. “We are vulnerable. I want control of my boat back and I want it now.”

  Jane rubbed her eyes. “I’ve been working on this for three hours and I’m no closer to breaking this code as I was at the start. I know what’s been done and how to fix it, but without an access code …” She shrugged.

  “Can’t you break the code?” The Commander looked to be having uncommon difficulty controlling his temper.

  “Sure, if I had another mainframe to work off and a month to run code breaking algorithms. I have neither.” Spotiswood sighed and shook his head. “And before you tell me to find a solution, do the impossible, make a miracle out of thin air, don’t. Sir. I’ve tried all my tricks and nothing works against a program with twelve billion possible combination codes. Sorry.”

  “You’ll be far more than sorry if an enemy warship turns up and we can’t even make a run for it.”

  He walked off in a huff muttering under his breath. Jane thought she caught the words ‘fucking boat jockey.’ Of course, she couldn’t be sure.

  CHAPTER 15

  Date: 24th July, 326 ASC

  Position: Planet Saint Joan. Preussen Imperial Space.

  Status: Intell collection – ongoing.

  Nathan continued to be astounded at the lack of security on the base. A facility which had guards patrolling outside, on a plague planet, but whose internal security was practically non-existent. If this were a military base he wouldn’t have lasted minutes, let alone hours. He could only hope that his luck held. If not he would stand little chance of rescuing Moe and the crew of Adroit.

  After considering his options, he devised the simplest plan he could think of. The upper levels were military. They would have access codes to all hatches and probably be monitored with sensors. Charging into the lion’s den would do nothing except get him killed. He checked the time. Eight hours forty-four minutes till the base disappeared from the face of Saint Joan. Tick tock, tick tock. Shut up.

  Nathan continued to jog up and down the corridor leading to the upstairs facilities. A uniformed officer walked by. No, an officer would attract too much attention. He poked his head into the senior mess. The smell of food preparation struck his nose. The local time on the wall mounted timepiece read 1152 hours. Midday mess? Now, how to cut one from the herd? Just before midday a rumble of feet on the stairway signaled that hungry men were on their way.

  The men, all enlisted personnel, sauntered to the junior mess. A petty officer, about Nathan’s height, build and age follow a minute later. Nathan continued to play the part of the civvy jogger and noted the name on the square head’s pocket. Vogel.

  He stood before him. “Hey, sarge, I think I need to report something.”

  “It’s Petty Officer and if you want to report something, then report it to someone else. I’m hungry.”

  “All right, sarge. And when they ask me why I didn’t report it sooner,” he glanced at his nametag, “I’ll give them your name.” He turned his back on the annoyed NCO.

  A heavy sigh. “Hold up. So what do you need to report.”

  “It might be nothing. You’re the military so you tell me.” He led the Pruessen down the corridor and around the corner, opened a hatch and stepped inside. ‘Sarge’ followed.

  Nathan had checked out the s
torage area earlier. “Over here,” he said, pointing to a storage locker.

  “What? All I see is a bunch of –”

  Nathan drove the heel of his fist into the back of the Pruessen’s neck. Enough to incapacitate but not to kill. With the petty officer bound and gagged with industrial strength tape and stored inside a locker, Nathan moved on. Clad in the Pruessen naval uniform, and with a security key tag in hand, he left the storage room and walked briskly to the stairs.

  Although the Pruessen had the same height, build and hair color as Nathan, he kept his head lowered in case the area was monitored.

  The upper levels, as he observed from outside, were smaller than the lower. He found nothing of interest on the first level and moved onto the next. This one caught his interest. Security, the name on the hatch said. The hatch responded to his computer access key. Lunchtime, not many personnel around. Nathan wandered through the area searching for the lost Athenians. To his left a sealed hatch. He tried his access key. It beeped negative.

  A body swung from around a nearby corner. A big man, mid-thirties, solid. He slowed his pace, his eyes curious. Nathan smiled. “How’s it going, chief?’

  “Yeah, all right.” The chief petty officer studied his face. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

  “Just looking around, you know,” Nathan said. “I’ve been stuck on this rock for a month and this is the first time they’ve given me time off.”

  “Name, rank and position.”

  “Schmidt, senior tech, communication and maintenance.”

  The Chief Petty Officer, with the nametag Anders, stared at him, a curious expression forming. “That’s not what your nametag says.”

  Nathan snorted. “The fuck heads on the Cormorant lost my bags. I’ve been getting by on whatever I can scrounge until she turns up tomorrow.”

  Nathan knew that he had only lasted this long because the possibility of someone strolling into the base from the outside, must, in everyone’s minds be so absurd a notion as to stagger fair reason. Still, his luck couldn’t hold out much longer. He prepared to kill the Pruessen.

  The chief snorted. “Yeah, wouldn’t be the first time.” He stepped into an office, Head of Security stenciled to hatch, and took a seat behind his desk. “Tech guys shouldn’t be in the security area. So you’d better keep clear of here in the future. All right?”

  “Sure thing chief.” He paused for a moment then plunged ahead. “So, scuttlebutt says we’re holding southern prisoners here. That right?”

  The chief’s eyes narrowed.

  “Hey, just curious you know?” Nathan continued to smile and took another step closer to the Pruessen.

  “So, is Andy still giving you techs a hard time?’

  Nathan’s back flared. He’s onto me. He prepared to leap at the non-com. Danger. Nathan charged at the seated Pruessen. A pulsar pistol came to hand. Too late, he realized his mistake.

  The blast hit him in the chest throwing him back onto the deck. Darkness took him.

  CHAPTER 16

  Date: 24th July, 326 ASC

  Position: Saint Joan, Pruessen Imperial Space.

  Status: High alert.

  “Where the blazes did he come from?” Commander Schmidt demanded.

  “We’re still checking, sir,” CPO Anders said.

  “Checking? He didn’t just wander in from outside did he? Could he have stowed away on the Cormorant?”

  “That’s one of many possibilities we’re checking out. Sir,” Anders said. “If we were on a naval base instead of a research facility we’d have the means to –”

  “Oh no, Anders, not again. I’ve told you that this whole operation was slapped together at the last minute. When Cormorant arrives she’ll be bringing all we need to make this place secure. Until then we’ll just have to make do.”

  “We’ve been making do for six weeks. Cormorant was supposed to resupply us with security upgrades last month.”

  “We are getting off subject,” Schmidt said. “I want to know who our prisoner is and how he got onto this base.”

  “He’s not saying.”

  “Did he have anything on him that might help with an identification.”

  Stifling a sigh, Anders took the items from a drawer and laid them on the desk.

  Schmidt picked up the monocular and then the knife, and finally the timepiece, pretended to examine them, then returned them to the desk.

  “Anything?”

  “Nope. The monocular could come from anywhere. No manufacture’s markings. Same with the knife and the watch.”

  “Do you have anything to go on?”

  “Only our guest and he’s not in a talkative mood,” Anders said.

  “Then, chief petty officer, you will need to convince him to talk. For all we know he’s a saboteur.”

  “Anything’s possible.” Anders paused before shifting into an area he knew the commander wouldn’t like. “Perhaps we should inform the Captain.”

  “Captain Reinhard is not the commanding officer of this base, I am. I’ll inform him when I’ve got something more tangible to report other than we’re checking.”

  Although Anders felt nothing remotely akin to respect for this idiot, he knew better than to challenge existing military dogma. “Respectfully, Commander, he is the ranking officer on this base. And, sir, as sector intell chief he will want to be informed of any new developments. This qualifies, don’t you think?”

  Schmidt’s face began to darken. The hatch opened and Doctor Jahn interrupted what would have undoubtedly been an agitated response.

  “I’ve checked him out and he’s perfectly healthy,” the doctor said. “Apart from the beating your thugs gave him.”

  “I don’t need to explain my methods to you, doctor,” Schmidt said. “What about the plague?”

  Anders saw fear in his eyes and for a change couldn’t fault him.

  “What about it?” the doctor said, with a blandness that almost made Anders laugh. He loved the way the doctor needled Schmidt.

  “Does he have it?” Schmidt’s voice rose far too high, which pleased Anders greatly.

  “Yes, he’s infected with the Derwent Plague and we’re all going to die.” The doctor humphed. “So I thought I would make it the last thing I reported.”

  “Your sense of humor is not appreciated, doctor.”

  It is by everyone else, you quarter wit.

  “Fuck you, Schmidt. I’ve got better things to do than stand here stating the bloody obvious.” Without another word, or a backward glance, he left.

  Anders fought to contain a smile.

  “So, our guest doesn’t want to talk, eh?” Schmidt said. Anders knew what was coming and grimaced. “Get Sergeant Jaeger to have a word with him.” For the first time since hearing the news, the prick smiled.

  CHAPTER 17

  Nathan’s head snapped back under the force of the blow, then slumped forward. His head swam, his vision fogging over. Secured tightly to the interrogation chair he was helpless to resist the battering. His body felt little more than one great aching lump of misery.

  “Who are you?” his torturer shouted. The same question, over and over. Another sound beating when he remained silent. Nathan knew he would have the last laugh when the nuke turned this base into a glass-covered hole in the ground. How long?

  “Who,” a hit to the stomach, “are,” another to his already broken nose, “you,” and one more to his left eye that had already swollen shut.

  Through his one good eye Nathan saw his torturer wiping sweat from his lip, his breathing ragged. With torn and bloody lips Nathan smiled.

  “Oh, this is funny to you, is it? Okay funny guy.” He pulled a knife from his belt and held its shiny blade before him. “Hmm, good knife this. Sharp.”

  He ran the blade across Nathan’s bare chest, deep enough to draw blood. Nathan gritted his teeth as the blade tore through his flesh. The torturer repeated the torture over and over again. At no time did he ask a question.

  “My
orders say I can’t kill you,” the blade cut again, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you. You’ve got two eyes, but really, you only need one don’t you?” The prick grinned.

  Gripping Nathan’s hair he pulled his head back, a thumb and forefinger forcing his right eyelid open.

  “You know, I don’t care if you talk or not. I’m just having too much fun.”

  The blade moved slowly, coming closer and closer to his exposed eye. Nathan steeled himself. Don’t give the prick the satisfaction of a scream. Take the pain, take the pain.

  The blade finally rested upon his eyelid. His torturer’s foul smile sparked something in Nathan.

  “You’ll die badly,” Nathan said.

  The torturer chuckled then turned as the hatch snapped open.

  An officer stepped inside, tall, brutal features, no nonsense. Nathan’s vision blurred. The newcomer glanced at Nathan before setting a stern glare onto the torturer.

  “Having fun, Jaeger?”

  “SOP for enemies of the empire.”

  The officer’s glare intensified.

  Jaeger snapped to attention. “Sir.”

  The officer ran his eyes over Nathan’s brutalized body. No pity or remorse, only a cold evaluation.

  “Don’t you worry, Captain,” Jaeger said. “He’ll break. They all do eventually.”

  “Did you see him when he was brought into this room?”

  “I’ve seen plenty. They all struggle and some of them whimper.”

  “So, that’s a no.” The officer shook his head. “This one didn’t struggle, not one bit. And he certainly didn’t whimper. He’s different from the rest and I want to know why.”

  “He’s a tough nut, Captain, but I’ll break him.”

  “You’re a stupid oaf, Jaeger. And like a stupid oaf you don’t realize that torture becomes ineffective after a while.”

  He turned back to Nathan. “I will have your secrets.” It wasn’t the words so much as the irrefutable tone that chilled Nathan’s blood.