The Ghost Fleet

by Trevor Wyatt

  Jeryl knelt down on his other side and said, “Please don’t make them do this. For my sake, if nothing else. I do hate filling out the paperwork that comes with using excessive force.” He gave the poor fool a wicked grin and continued, “Now, I’m going to walk to the door. If you don’t agree to help by the time I get there, I’ll just let my buddy do his job. He so loves his gun…”

  The other men took a couple steps back, making sure they couldn’t be tied to what was about to happen. After all, torture wasn’t the kind of hobby the Armada looked favorably upon.

  Jeryl took his time walking forward, ensuring that the prisoner could see each deliberate step and occasionally glancing over his shoulder with a sad grimace. Right before he touched the door handle he heard the prisoner call out, “All right! I’ll do it, they don’t pay me enough for this shit, anyway.”

  Powers dragged the man up from the floor and pushed him to the doorway, “Be quick about it. You screw with us, and there won’t be a body left to find.” He undid the man’s bindings and stepped back.

  The prisoner leaned close to the sensor lock and put his finger on the thumbprint, while whispering something unintelligible. The mechanism clicked and the door swiftly pulled back, revealing an empty passage to the back of the warehouse. “There are no more locked doors from here. Can I go?”

  Jeryl looked at Powers who lifted his pistol, still set to stun, and fired. The man dropped, unconscious. “Goodnight, buddy.”

  Jeryl stepped through the doorway, looking out for more men as he led the team into the back of the building. There were several darkened rooms branching off, but he kept checking the screen on his wrist to ensure he was on the right path.

  “Captain, there a few hostiles moving toward your location,” his comm crackled, and he tightened the grip on his rifle, the anxiety he felt over Tira increasing tenfold.

  They were taking too long to get to her.

  Hang tight, kid. We’re coming.

  Chapter 18

  Jeryl

  Jeryl led his team down the narrow walkway that led to the private office of the Syndicate leader. Having followed Tira’s incursion from start to now, he had a pretty good idea where it was. He could also see her position like a beeping dot on his command ops console screen.

  “Warehouse floor secure, captain,” a voice came over their secure comm channel. Jeryl recognized the voice belonging to the beta team leader, the team tasked with securing the warehouse’s main floor.

  Outside the warehouse, a firefight was still going on. Flashes of light could be seen through the dirt-blurred high windows.

  All resistance should’ve ended by now, Jeryl thought, worry snaking up his throat.

  “Zeta team, what’s your status?” Jeryl asked as he came to the door. He raised a right fist, commanding his team of seven soldiers to halt.

  They silently obeyed, not one of them making a sound to give away their position.

  “There are a few guards making their way to the warehouse, like I said,” the zeta team leader replied. “But we’re taking care of them as we speak.”

  There was a brief pause of static.

  “It’s nothing, sir,” the zeta team leader continued. “The warehouse is secure from external threats.”

  “Roger that,” Jeryl said.

  He looked at the small control tablet strapped to his right wrist; it showed him limited information, including mission parameters, which hadn’t changed: Rescue Tira and capture the Syndicate leader.

  Jeryl was worried because he hadn’t heard from Tira since she had given them confirmation. Also, her position in the room behind the door hadn’t changed. Even with the loud reports of their weapons, she hadn’t moved. She had shown no sign of a struggle.

  Was she dead?

  No, her vitals are strong, Jeryl tried to convince himself.

  “Be ready to move once I get this door opened,” Jeryl whispered to his commando team. He only caught the nod of the operative directly behind him.

  The light in the warehouse hadn’t improved since they stormed the building. If anything, some misplaced shots had taken out a few light bots.

  Jeryl nodded at Powers and he moved in quickly, kneeling by the door. He tapped a button on the device and ran the hacking program and waved his right arm over the door. On the screen of the device, it showed that the device was establishing a connection with the door’s computer interface.

  Once the connection was established, a series of options popped up. Powers tapped the one that said ‘open’.

  The moment he did it, Jeryl grabbed his assault rifle and fell into an attack position. His weapon rested against his right shoulder, his right eye looking into the rifle’s scope. The weapon was dead straight, aimed at the wall.

  “Ready, guys,” Jeryl whispered. He was satisfied when he heard their grips tightening around their weapons.

  “Try not to hit Tira.”

  A white line like the shape of a door appeared on the wall. A hiss followed as the door slid away, revealing a small office and two figures sitting calmly on opposite sides of a desk.

  Jeryl barreled into the office just in time to see the two figures move. If Jeryl hadn’t been there, he would’ve doubted that humans could move at such speed. It was as though they were held in a state of trance, waiting for the inevitable, which was Jeryl’s entrance.

  Tira was fast—impossibly fast. She flew across the desk, her hands reaching for a choke hold. The man on the other side, whose face was hidden by shadows resulting from poor lighting, slapped her hands like it was a noisome fly.

  Tira was thrown off balance and landed at the side of the desk. She rolled away just in time to escape the man’s big foot coming down on her face.

  Then, the man shot to his feet. Unfortunately, Tira was still on the floor, and the man’s right leg plowed into her abdomen, sending her into the air and crashing against the wall.

  “Stop!” Jeryl boomed, aiming at the man.

  But then the man flicked his right hand and a small pistol appeared out of nowhere. Worst of, it was aimed at Jeryl.

  Jeryl dove out of the way as the weapon rocked back in recoil. The loud report of the gun shook the room. He landed inside the room, performed a roll, and came up to his knees, his gun aiming at the man. Beside him, a commando fell to the ground, dead.

  Jeryl didn’t waste time looking. As soon as his aim settled on the man, the arrangement had changed.

  The man had his left arm around Tira’s neck and his right hand aiming a gun at her head. He had retreated to the very corner of the room, where the light was all but inexistent. He used Tira as a body shield so effectively that Jeryl couldn’t get a decent shot.

  Tira grunted at the tightness of the arm around her neck.

  The rest of the commando team poured into the office, taking up strategic positions. They all aimed at the two figures in the corner of the room.

  “Hold your fire!” Jeryl commanded. “Do not fire under any circumstance!”

  He didn’t want any commando getting ideas and shooting at the Syndicate leader just because he felt he could do so without hitting Tira. He wasn’t going to take any chances whatsoever.

  Tira’s life above the mission.

  “Come any closer,” the man said, “and she dies.”

  Tira yelped as the man’s arm around her neck tightened.

  That voice…I’ve heard that voice…a very long time ago.

  Jeryl knew the man, he just didn’t know from where.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Jeryl said. “We don’t want any trouble. We just want to talk.”

  “Really?” the voice replied. “I guess the Armada enjoys talking with guns then, rather than with lips.”

  The commandos in the room became antsy. Jeryl noticed it in the way they steadied their weapons and tightened their grips.

  “Stay calm, boys,” Jeryl ordered them. The situation was volatile enough. One misstep could lead to a bloodbath and Tira’s death.

  Jeryl took o
ne look at the dead commando right in the entryway. Jeryl didn’t know all of them by name. But he knew that the downed commando’s team member knew him, his family, and his entire history. Jeryl knew enough to know that the remaining commandos were grieving more than he did.

  And they were only humans. They would want revenge...after all, the murderer was standing right in front of them, severely outmanned and outgunned.

  Can I trust them to retain perspective?

  Jeryl knew the answer was no. Commandos were jarheads. They were muscles. They needed a leader, they needed someone to think for them. But when their emotions got the best of them, they could become unpredictable.

  “We had to ensure we weren’t walking into a trap,” Jeryl replied.

  “You were sure,” the man replied. “After all, weren’t you the one who sent this lovely agent, Tira, to come scout me out, Captain Jeryl Montgomery?”

  Jeryl instantly felt terror strike him to his core. His mind froze as painful memories flashed across his eyes. He felt his aim fall lax and his rifle falter until it was pointed to the ground.

  No, it can’t be. It’s not true. It’s not him.

  “No…” Jeryl whispered, ignoring the strange looks his men were giving him.

  “Everything alright, boss?” one of them asked in a whisper.

  “How could he be?” the man said in reply. Obviously, he had heard the commando’s response. “Would you be, if you saw a ghost?”

  And then the figure stepped into the light. Tira was right in the arm of the man Jeryl had thought was long dead. A man Jeryl had mourned. A man Jeryl had looked up to. A man Jeryl had loved. A man Jeryl had considered as a brother.

  Kaine.

  “No, it can’t be…” Jeryl said, shaking his head.

  “Ah, but it is,” Kaine replied with a bright smile. Tira’s eyes were widened in shock. Her face was already turning pale from the limited oxygen flowing to her brain. She would pass out any moment soon if Kaine kept the pressure on her neck.

  “You’re dead,” Jeryl said. “We lost you during the Earth-Sonali War. You can’t be here. You can’t be commanding The Ghost.”

  Kaine smiled even more broadly. “But I am. You see, I had to keep the façade of my death to pursue my purposes.”

  Jeryl was still in shock. “You’re the Syndicate leader? How is that possible?”

  Kaine shook his head and rolled his eye, letting out a sigh of exasperation while at it. “Are you still this slow, Jeryl? All these years of commanding The Seeker hasn’t made you any sharper?”

  Jeryl felt the sting of the insult and was crippled by it. Naturally, he would’ve rebuffed the insult—maybe even bragged a bit. But this was no ordinary fellow. This was Kaine, the captain of The Ghost.

  “Well, if you must know, I infiltrated their ranks,” he replied. “I killed their bosses. I took over. Simple enough?”

  “But that would mean…”

  “Yes,” Kaine said. “Yes, it means I’m still in command of the The Ghost.”

  “But why?” Jeryl asked.

  “Why?” Kaine replied with a burst of anger. Then, with a sudden motion, he aimed his weapon at the nearest commando.

  The commandos started screaming for him to drop his aim or get cut down.

  “Everyone, stop!” Jeryl boomed, shooting to his feet and putting himself between the commandos and Kaine and Tira. His gun was hanging by his side, his hands preoccupied with pointing for both parties to drop their aims.

  “Sir, I say we take our shot!” called one commando.

  “I second that, sir,” replied another.

  “The fucker killed one of our own!”

  “He deserves what’s coming his way!”

  “Not at the cost of one of our own,” Jeryl responded.

  He immediately knew he was on the verge of a rebellion, if not a mutiny. He had to think fast.

  “What are you going to do, now, Jeryl?” Kaine asked.

  Jeryl couldn’t have missed the amusement in his voice. This was a game to him. He was playing Jeryl. Probably had been playing him from the very beginning. But what was his end goal?

  What do you seek, Kaine? Why all the cloak and dagger?

  Kaine’s aim jumped to Jeryl.

  “Don’t shoot!” Jeryl commanded his team, knowing fully well that Kaine wasn’t going to kill him.

  Not now, at least.

  Jeryl may not be as smart as Kaine, but he knew that Kaine needed to get out of here alive. He couldn’t do that by killing Jeryl in the midst of six highly armed, high trained, highly enraged elite commandos.

  “You want to know why?” Kaine said as his features turned to stone. “Tell them to step outside and let’s have ourselves a nice, little conversation.”

  Jeryl held Kaine’s gaze. Then, his eyes dropped to the weapon that was pointed at his heart.

  In the space of a heartbeat, Jeryl had his rifle up. He noticed the flinch in Kaine’s aim as the action caught him by surprise.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, Jeryl,” Kaine barked, tightening his arm around Tira ever so slightly. At this point, Tira’s eyes were turning glassy. Her groans were almost silent.

  Jeryl kept his aim steady on Kaine’s head when he said, “Leave us alone.”

  The men began to complain, but Jeryl silenced them with a bark.“That’s an order!”

  They grumbled some more before they cautiously retreated out of the room, taking their fallen with them. The door hissed to a close moments later, leaving Jeryl locked in the room with Kaine and Tira.

  “Bold,” Kaine commented. “I would’ve never thought you capable.”

  Jeryl ignored the comment. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Which one?” Kaine asked, a nonchalance to his voice. “Attacking Armada convoys or trying to strangle Tira to death?”

  Jeryl ignored the man again and said, “I thought we were friends.”

  He must have hit the mark, because he watched the smirk vanish from the man’s face. What remained was a mixture of rage and deep-seethed hurt.

  “Friends?” Kaine muttered. “You call us friends? We were brothers.”

  “Yes, we were,” Jeryl answered.

  “Right until you left me for dead,” Kaine added.

  “What?” Jeryl breathed, feeling the air thin in the room. “I did what?”

  Kaine laughed out loud, but it wasn’t the kind of laughter that was filled with mirth. It was one of sadness and sorrow.

  “Your hope for a successful mission is almost insulting,” Kaine said. “If I knew where and when to attack Terran Armada convoys, don't you think I'm capable of knowing when the Armada is trying to infiltrate my ranks?”

  Jeryl didn’t reply. He was still stuck at the ‘left me for dead’ part.

  “You must take me for an idiot,” Kaine said.

  No. Just dangerous, Jeryl didn’t say.

  “I knew The Seeker’s mission even before it arrived at the Smuggler’s Cave,” Kaine revealed. “I know about your little meeting with Mr. Black, that scheming Intelligence puppet, I know it all. I knew the moment Tira walked into the warehouse that she was the spy you had sent. How stupid do you think me?”

  Jeryl’s face hardened. He brought his breathing under control and let his anger course through his veins.

  Kaine is the enemy, he told himself. The Kaine you knew is gone. He died in battle during the Earth-Sonali War. The one standing before you is an apparition. A ghost.

  “I have you surrounded,” Jeryl said. “There are at least twenty commandos in and around this building. If you succeed in killing Tira and me, you won’t escape the commandos waiting outside that door, nor the ones on the main floor, nor the ones outside. And The Seeker’s weapons are currently trained on this warehouse. You have nowhere to run or hide.”

  Jeryl noticed the lack of a reaction at the mention of these facts. What are you up to, Kaine?

  “If you knew all the things you said you knew,” Jeryl continued, “then why did you play right in
to our trap?”

  “Did I?” Kaine asked with a smirk.

  Something about the way he said it made Jeryl extremely wary. Right then, he knew he had missed something vital.

  Kaine was almost the smartest person Jeryl knew—or know. If he was here now, it was because he wanted to be. But why? What was his game plan? What were his motives?

  “I don’t have time for your mind games, Kaine,” Jeryl said. “Why are you here?”

  “Because I wanted to see you face to face, Jeryl” Kaine replied without the least bit humor in his voice.

  Jeryl felt the frown crawl up his face. The instinctual response was to tighten his grip around his weapon.

  “Why?” Jeryl asked, even though he had an inkling.

  “Because I want payback,” Kaine said. “You abandoned me. Left me for dead. And I almost died, Jeryl...almost. But I'm back, and you know what they say...”

  He smiled, a hint of malice in his eyes. “Payback's a bitch.”

  Chapter 19

  Jeryl

  “I don't blame you, though,” Kaine said, grimacing. “I’ve spent a while thinking about that day and about what you must’ve seen, what you must’ve been thinking, what you must’ve been feeling, and why you left, leaving me and what was left of my crew to die.”

  He held up a hand to forestall anything Jeryl might say. “No, no, I’m not really blaming you. If our situations had been reversed, and I had seen what you had seen, I would’ve left too. The difference is that, unlike you, I wouldn’t have forgotten about my brother.”

  Jeryl opened his mouth to say that he didn’t forget Kaine, but the man cut him off again and yelled at him. “No! You do not get to talk. See, while you were busy brokering peace, and creating your beloved Council, I was being tortured. I was trying not to die, I was trying to find a way home.”

  Kaine paused for a moment, a pained expression painted on his face.

  “But like I was trying to say, if situations were reversed, I would’ve left as well—but I wouldn’t have forgotten you. I would’ve spoken to the Sonali, tried to find out where you were. It would’ve been a simple conversation too. ‘Hey, Sonali guys that we’re now at peace with…do you remember when two Union ships showed up at that research space station and your people fucked them up? Would you mind telling us if there were any survivors, or maybe where you left the ship, or even the bodies of the people on board?’ See? Easy conversation. And yet…”