by T. R. Harris
“That’s a Marine slogan, Mr. Monroe, from back in the day when we had Marines. In the SEALs we used to say, ‘If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying.’”
Monroe laughed. “I’ve read your jacket, Captain Cain, and hearing that now I can see why you’ve been so successful throughout the years.”
“Yeah, rules are for saps. I prefer to make things up as I go along, no matter what others say is the proper course of action.”
Adam got up off the bed as Monroe approached. The two men shook hands.
“Good luck, Captain.”
It was a simple sentiment, but Adam sensed the not-so-subtle meaning: Monroe believed this to be a suicide mission—just as Adam did. But if it could stop the slaughter of trillions of intelligent creatures, then it would be a sacrifice worth making.
He just hoped Riyad would see it the same way.
********
“So, do you miss her?”
Riyad looked at Adam with a frown. “Who…Sherri?”
“No, the Queen.”
“Oh, her…every lonely night, my friend. My thoughts are consumed by her. But, honestly, I think we need some new material if we’re going to take our act on the road.”
Adam laughed. “Yeah, on the road…again. That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
Riyad and Adam were in one of the many ready rooms aboard the Mount Rushmore, taking an inventory of their gear, preparing for the assault on the Sol-Kor portal array. This one was scheduled to be a nuke attack, but in the event that it didn’t come off, Adam and his strike force had to be ready to go. This time there would be over five hundred ground troops, not the hundred and twenty like before. Hopefully they wouldn’t be needed.
Riyad set an assault rifle down on the bench and turned to his friend. His eyes narrowed, his bushy eyebrows nearly joining as a frown carved his dark forehead.
“Why did the hair just stand up on the back of my neck?”
Adam’s answering grin was…well, goofy.
Riyad cocked his head and his eyes widened when he understood. “That’s a suicide mission and you know it.”
Adam wasn’t surprised his friend had been able to not only read his thoughts but immediately conceptualize the mission before a word of it had been spoken. Riyad had spent a lifetime in the planning and execution of missions just like this one. All it took was the mention of the Queen—the target—and Adam’s silly grin—confirmation—for Riyad to know.
He sat down on a nearby metal bench and stared at Adam. “It would have to be through the Klin portal. It was linked to the Queen’s Chambers before, and the scalies have probably rebuilt the portal on their side by now. But how do we get into the Klin ship?” His eyes grew wide again. “The one at your house. It must have survived!”
Adam nodded, not only for confirmation, but also for the admiration he felt for Riyad at that moment. His powers of deduction were truly amazing.
Riyad pursed his lips and shrugged. “It makes sense that they would want the two of us to lead such a mission. But as straightforward the entry may be, I’m at a loss as to how we could get out? I hope you have some ideas about that.”
“I’m working on it. So…are you in?”
“Are you kidding? I get to live out the fantasy of nearly every guy who’s had a bad relationship. I get to kill my ex…and get away with it—hopefully.”
Adam laughed. “I’m sure that line of thinking goes both ways, buddy, maybe even more so from the opposite side. Don’t you know that every breakup is the man’s fault?”
“That’s what I’ve heard…far too many times.”
“I just hope you don’t have second thoughts when the time comes to pull the trigger.”
“It will be difficult, for sure, but I’ll do my best to resist the inner conflict for the good of the mission.”
“Far out, dude. Now let’s go bag ourselves a queen.”
********
Andy Tobias, Admiral of the Joint Union Defense Service fleet, was livid upon hearing the news that his two most competent officers were leaving the ship. He insisted on knowing why, and as he held position at the very top of Union military leadership, nothing was held back.
His bluster didn’t last long once he realized the significance of the mission and the prospects for a safe return by the team. If anything went south, there would be no black helicopters in the night coming to their rescue. But what could go wrong? They’d just be isolated in a completely foreign universe swarming with trillions of flesh-eating aliens, and more than likely with every escape route shut down the moment they appeared.
“You’re going to have to make it to a transport portal, one of the big boys. That will involve commandeering a starship. And take plenty of backup batteries for the beam neutralizers. No telling how long you’re going to be over there—”
Adam grasped Tobias by his shoulder. The man was losing weight at an alarming rate, probably from the stress of command. At least that was Adam’s hope. Tobias was sixty-eight years old, and although he could still go up against men half his age, time had a way of defeating even the strongest warrior.
“We’ll be okay, Andy. I promise. The Sol-Kor won’t be expecting this, so we’ll have the element of surprise on our side.”
Andy shook his head. “I have every confidence you can achieve your primary mission. It’s what happens afterwards that I’m worried about.”
“I think it’s the Sol-Kor who should be worried, Admiral. You know how deadly a trapped animal can be. We’ll deliver a little shock and awe on their asses and see what they think about that.”
“You be careful. You too, Riyad. I’ve grown rather fond of you bastards over the years.”
“Don’t go all mushy on us, Admiral,” Riyad said. “Your strength and bullheadedness has been a constant throughout the years. Just promise to kick our butts if we don’t make it back alive. That should be incentive enough for us not to get ourselves killed.”
Andy nodded. No other words were said, just some hugs and handshakes. Then the pair left.
********
Andy Tobias stared at the closed door of his cabin for a long moment afterwards. He’d spent a lifetime in military service, with countless men under his command providing the ultimate sacrifice, but this was different. If ever there were two men he could call true friends, it was Adam Cain and Riyad Tarazi.
He chuckled. Regardless of the ultimate outcome of the mission, the Sol-Kor were in for quite a surprise. A storm was coming their way, and the scaly bastards had no idea how strong and destructive it was going to be.
Chapter 3
The team would consist of only twelve men, not because there was a lack of skilled volunteers, but because of the constraints placed on them by the size of the trans-dimensional portals.
The one from Adam’s garage had been moved to a large hangar on the grounds of the closed Travis Air Force Base outside of Vacaville, California. The opening was only six feet wide, which would allow for two fully-armed and equipped commandos to pass through at a time. During trials, all team members could make it through in five seconds. That didn’t sound like long, but they had no idea how much notice the Klin would get when their portal suddenly activated. Adam had only used the device once, a year ago, and he couldn’t remember if there had been a warmup period. All he knew was that the portal had opened and through it he could see another dimension. The gateway had stayed open for the duration of the rescue mission, right up to the point Panur destroyed the portal on the Sol-Kor side of the doorway.
Adam and Riyad arrived at Travis two weeks before the jump-off date. The enigmatic secret agent Stephen Monroe was already there and neck-deep in the preparations.
“How long have you been planning this operation?” Adam asked as he looked down a long table displaying various items the team would take with them into the Sol-Kor universe.
“From about two minutes after you brought Riyad back from the other side.”
Riyad lifted one of the tiny red pi
lls that was included in the inventory. “And this will allow us to breathe the toxic Sol-Kor atmosphere?”
“That’s right. One every sixteen hours.”
“Hope we won’t need more than one each. If so, well…something’s gone terribly wrong.”
“You’ll have a hundred pills each…just in case.”
“What’s in them?” Adam asked.
“I wish I knew. The good thing about our current state of cooperation with the other races united against the Sol-Kor is that we now have access to some incredible technology from a hundred different top-tier worlds. Some excel in electronics, like the Formilians. Others are chemical wizards. The ones who made the pills were able to analyze the SK air from traces left at the first portal array—the one built by the Klin. From there they figured out what our systems would need to counteract all the negative effects. Just to be up-front, I’m told there will be a detox period when you get back, so don’t plan any big celebrations for at least thirty-six hours afterwards.”
“That’s good to know,” Adam said. “You hear that, Riyad? No booking the late-night talk show circuit for the day we get back.”
“I’m okay with that. Let the anticipation build. Should command a higher appearance fee.”
Moving along the table, Riyad snatched up a rubber mask, placing his hand inside to balloon it out.
“No friggin’ way! This won’t fool anyone.”
“It’s not designed to be a real disguise, just something that at a distance will allow your team to pass as Sol-Kor.”
The rubber mask, complete with gray scales and all, did have the face of an SK, but there was no mistaking it was just a mask.
“You’ll also go in wearing lightweight replicas of the black Sol-Kor armor, but it’ll be reinforced for real effectiveness against flash weapons. Coupled with the masks, this should provide a second or two of uncertainty if faced with a threat. Hopefully that will be enough time for you to neutralize the situation.”
Adam picked up a mask of his own. “Don’t worry, Riyad, this should help. If we’re being observed from a distance, these should be good enough. And in any close encounters they should give us a split-second advantage before the natives discover the truth…and we neutralize the situation, as Mr. James Bond just said.”
Monroe smiled. “You’ll still go in with your assault weapons. The individual gear packs will be slimmed down and disguised as part of the armor. Back-up ammo and other essential supplies will be in two self-propelled carts going in with you.”
Adam surveyed the items on the table and shook his head. “Stephen, you do realize this mission is about as sloppy and jerry-rigged as it can get?”
“What choice do we have? We can’t very well tip our hand by sending in drones or other unmanned reconnaissance units for a look-see. The moment we did that they’d slam the door shut and we’d have no way in.”
“They’re going to do that anyway,” said Riyad. “Leaving us with no way out.”
“We’ll need to secure the portals, both on the Klin ship and in the Queen’s Chambers. If that fails, then we’ll just have to find another way,” Adam said.
“They’ll be a second team that will follow you into the Klin ship. It’ll be their job to maintain control of the portal for as long as they can. Also, keep in mind the portal controlled by Tobias. Your men will have the link information with them. All you have to do in that case is secure a starship and then locate a transport portal that will allow you to program in a new set of coordinates. For the two of you, pulling off something like that will hardly work up a sweat, right?”
Adam tried to stay positive about the mission, but it was becoming harder by the minute. “I hope your confidence in our abilities will be warranted. I would really hate to disappoint you.”
“Then don’t. Just get over there, waste the damn Queen, and then hightail it back to the good ol’ Milky Way.”
Riyad slipped the loose-fitting rubber mask over his face. The eyes were cut out and the mouth had a wide slit running the length of the artificial lips. “That’s the plan, my friend.” His words came out muffled by the mask.
Monroe looked at Adam. “I’d say that’s an improvement.”
“Roger that. Now how about we get this show on the road?”
Chapter 4
Adam wasn’t too concerned with the first stage of the jump. Even though there could be upwards of twenty thousand of the silver-skinned aliens aboard the Klin colony ship, they weren’t known for their fighting skills. Adam’s team should be able to gain entry and secure the portal before the Klin could stop them.
That’s where the mission would enter the realm of the unknown. Were the Klin actually working with the SK? And if so, were they linked to the Sol-Kor universe through a rebuilt portal in the Queen’s Chambers? If the answer was no, and there was no accompanying portal into Sol-Kor Land, then the team would beat a hasty retreat back through the Klin portal to Travis.
But if it did link with the SK universe…well, things would get very exciting from then on.
Each stage of the mission had its “go, no-go” points, although only the first stage offered them a clear exit strategy. With each successive “go” after that, the team would fall deeper and deeper into the realm of the unknown.
Besides the breathing pills, other alien scientists had improved upon the basic beam neutralizer to form a continuous belt of countering waves each team member would wear around their waists. Four compact batteries, plus eight spares each, would give them protection for up to thirty-six hours of constant beam bombardment. They would also carry an ample supply of high-strength aspirin to help fight off the inevitable beam-created headaches that could affect reasoning and concentration.
In addition to what each commando would carry on their person, two self-propelled equipment carts would go in with them, each ladened with extra weapons, ammo, and other provisions. How long the carts could be attached to combat operations, no one knew. But it wouldn’t hurt to take extra everything with them, at least initially.
Adam had been on too many small strike missions to count, but never had he faced one with this many unknowns. This wasn’t how they normally operated in the SEALs. Traditionally, every detail was known, each move choreographed. At least that was the goal. The unexpected always happened, but that was also planned for. For this mission there would be very little redundancy—extra supplies, but that was about it. And they would be operating with no firm timetables. The situation would be fluid from the moment they stepped through the portal.
Adam turned to the eleven anxious faces of his team. Many years ago, after the first Juirean attack on Earth, Human military units had been reorganized into a more uniform, global force. Ranks had been redistributed. The Army, Marines, and Air Force retained their enlisted designations—with a few exceptions—while the Navy secured the officer ranks. No one was happy with this arrangement, especially the generals or the chiefs. Most higher-ranking non-coms were switched to warrant officers, where the designation of chief still applied. And any officer with an existing rank was grandfathered in. But the changeover had come nearly a decade ago, so most of the old soldiers had faded away by now, and the new boots didn’t know any difference.
They were also under one central military command, that of the Joint Union Defense Service, or JUDS. Within the corps, there were also civilian specialists under the office of the Union Technology Corps, or UTC. The strike force included two such men, Specialist Juan “Joey” Garcia and Specialist Adrian “Wizard” Kaczynski. They were the portal experts, tasked with the almost impossible job of hacking into alien portal controls and finding appropriate ingress and egress points for the team.
Adam was glad someone else had that responsibility. He wouldn’t have the first clue where to even begin figuring something out like that.
Besides Adam, the team had two line officers, Lieutenant Fred “Rock” Johnson and Ensign Ronald “Mac” MacTavish. Johnson was a short black man, barely scraping five-
foot-six, but as his call-sign suggested, he was built like a rock—nearly neckless, with bulging muscles that required his uniforms be custom tailored.
Mac was from England, and had bucked the higher ups in order to sport the curving handlebar mustache he was so proud of. He claimed it had something to do with his pagan religion. As to why he should be allowed to grow it, Adam suspected he got the pass because he was a distant relative of the Queen of England, who still maintained an honorary position in the former United Kingdom. Retaining some traditions was necessary. It allowed Humanity to hold on to a past and a perspective that, for all intents and purposes, had ended with the Juirean attack on the planet twenty years earlier.
The rest of the team was rounded out by tough-as-nails special ops specialists, including: Sergeant First-Class Mike “Conman” Connors, navigation, weapons, sniper; Corporal Eddie “Neo” Anderson, pilot, sniper; Sergeant Anders “Birdman” Drake, surveillance, drone operation, sniper; Master Sergeant Javier “Hotlips” Hernandez, weapons, sniper; and Sergeant Alex “Ace” Harbison, sniper.
There was also Riyad Tarazi, designated a “specialist” during his time on active duty, and given the nickname “Flash” by the team. He earned the moniker not from any exceptional speed he exhibited, but rather because of the blinding white of his teeth. Some of the men had even gone so far as to fabricate a wrap-around plastic sunshade to cover his mouth, saying it was necessary so as to not reveal their position during covert operations. The shade was secured in Riyad’s pack, unbeknownst to him.
Each team member would go in weighed down with nearly seventy pounds of gear, secured in black fabric MOLLE packs that blended with the armor outfits they wore. None of the active-duty soldiers seemed to notice the added weight. They were the modern-day equivalent of SEALs and Rangers, young, tough men who ate, slept and breathed this stuff on a daily basis. These packs were actually lighter than what they were used to. And once in Sol-Kor space the lower gravity of their homeworld would then reduce the pack weight to a little over fifty pounds.