Shalira ran to the door. “Don’t you dare leave until I get back. I have a present for you.” Holding the portal open, she gave him a stern admonition. “Promise me, Johnny.”
“I think we’re counting down from four minutes, your highness.”
She gave a shriek of dismay and hurried off, heading toward the staircase.
Mike and Johnny looked at each other. “This whole deal has a bad smell to it,” Mike said, resting his hip on the edge of the desk.
“Anytime the brass tell you it’s a simple mission, you know it’s fucked six ways from Sunday already,” Johnny agreed. “All the more reason I should go. I’ve got no ties, no wife with a child on the way.”
“I owe you.”
He shook his head. “Consider it my gift to the baby.”
Mike got another cup of coffee, burning off nervous energy, Johnny knew. As he stirred cream into the black liquid, he said, “I wish we had a way to stay in touch. I could try to arrange backup if things go south, but you don’t have the fastlink implant.”
“I might be able to help.” Shalira stood on the threshold, out of breath. “The three of us are pretty tightly connected after what we endured on Mahjundar.”
“I rode in early because I had a gut instinct something was wrong here,” Johnny admitted. “But I don’t know that I could project even a general sense of danger across Sectors. I’m sure not psychic. I won’t be sendin’ you any telepathic messages.”
The princess came to him. “I was saving this for your birthday, but I think you should have it early.” She handed him a small box.
Johnny opened it carefully, setting the lid on the desk, and removed a small gold medallion, less than an inch across, stamped with the winged, lion-like mythical creature recognized as the hallmark of her family, on her home world. The cherindor’s eyes gleamed, as if flames smoldered in the two slivers of gemstone. He felt a momentary tingle in his palm, like a small electrical charge, and let the token dangle from its chain, wrapped on his fingers.
Shalira touched her fingertip to the pendant as it swung in the air. “I don’t know if there’s any power left in the shards of the gem, but I wanted you to have a piece of it. On my planet, a warrior who rendered the level of service to an Imperial princess you gave to me, would have received much more valuable rewards.”
He cupped his hand behind her head and gently drew her closer, kissing her cheek. “You didn’t need to give me anything, but I’ll treasure it.”
Releasing Shalira, he looped the thin gold chain over his head and settled the tiny circular pendant on his neck. “We don’t usually wear personal items on a mission but for you I’ll make an exception.”
She hugged him tight and Mike gave both of them a bear hug. “You bring your ass home in one piece, that’s an order, you understand?”
“Sure. Just another day.”
“The only easy day was yesterday,” Mike said, quoting one of the aphorisms of their branch of the service. “Watch yourself.”
Johnny understood his friends were reluctant to let him go and probably feeling guilty about him volunteering in Mike’s place. In his heart he knew there was no other choice he could have made. He’d have lost it if he’d emerged from the mountains later to find his cousin drafted and gone on another mission, especially without Johnny to watch his six. Some of the trouble they’d gotten into on Mahjundar was due to Mike’s loss of the finely honed instincts developed to keep an operator alive. Of course Johnny himself wasn’t in any better state, but at least he didn’t have the distraction of a pregnant wife waiting at home. He ended the hug, stepping away toward the door. “I don’t want to incite Captain Legerr to threaten us all with court-martial, so I’d better go. See you in a month.”
He turned on his heel and left the room, marching out of the house to the waiting shuttle, not bothering to grab his pack from the camping trip. The military would issue him what he needed and the Supply Officers probably wouldn’t let him take his own gear. He had his favorite knife and a pair of customized Mark 27 blasters – what more could he need?
A week later, after being rushed across the Sectors in a high speed transport courier, Johnny was dropped off at a military space station by a pilot who couldn’t leave fast enough. Standing in the corridor, his bag at his feet, Johnny rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the stiff feel of the utilities he was wearing. He hadn’t had a new, regulation uniform in years. Special Forces went for a much more casual approach to military life, due to the unusual nature of their assignments. He waited for whoever was assigned to collect him, which also chafed his raw nerves. Being at the beck and call of an unknown unit ran contrary to his combat experiences. Sure he’d been on missions with mixed branches of the military but only under the direct command of his own officers. Men and women he trusted to have his six.
“Sergeant Danver?” A young ensign came rushing up.
Johnny reminded himself he had to salute. Damn, this returning to active duty thing was a pain in the butt. “Yes, sir, reporting to Station 50 as ordered.”
“The team is being briefed now. We’ll have to rush.” The ensign barely acknowledged the salute before pivoting and retracing his steps through the corridor he’d just traversed. “Follow me.”
With his jittery escort, Johnny arrived at a briefing room a few moments later, interrupting the senior officer at the front conducting the briefing. “Nice of you to join us, Sgt. Danver.” Sarcasm oozed from the ostensibly friendly greeting. “Better late than never. Take a seat, Captain Scortun can introduce you to his team later.”
Johnny dropped his bag next to an open chair and put his butt in the seat. The Farduccir planetary system rotated on the AI screen so he guessed the briefing had begun only moments before. The officer droned on with statistics and general information about the planet and its moons. Johnny tuned the lecture out and assessed the eight man squad seated at the table. Crisp uniforms like his, regulation haircuts, not Special Forces. Sector regular forces? Going in on an extraction run for a high value target? Fucked before the mission began. He tuned into the briefing as a holo of a woman appeared on the display.
“As you’re all aware, the Farduccir system was a major battle zone between the Sectors and the Mawreg at one time, heavily contested. The Sectors had a huge presence there and the local economy boomed,” the briefing officer said. “Then the war moved on to other areas and Farduccir became a backwater. We abandoned a lot of bases and gear in place, which the pirates have capitalized on. Their current modus operandi is to lure in or outright attack vessels in the nearby Sector area making the transit between hyperspace points. The raiders take the cargo and the passengers, who are then either sold into slavery – the Shemdylann pirates have been observed coming and going from this area – or ransomed for large sums of credits. The ransom business is quite lucrative and well established.”
“The Sectors needs to clean this cesspool out,” said a man in an expensive business suit, seated at the side of the room.
Johnny studied him for a moment, wondering what his role here might be. Why was a civilian at a major ops briefing?
“We don’t disagree, Governor.” The briefing officer was all deference. “But the Sectors’ Command has other priorities.”
Governor? As in Sector 55 governor Petr Gurgins? Why would a high gravity politico like him be here? Johnny studied him more closely.
“The most recent casualty of the pirate activity was the Star Swan, a medium cruise liner. Normally a ship this size wouldn’t have been a target but the captain dropped out of hyperspace to effect a minor repair. The pirates also traveled out of their normal territory to grab the ship. We think someone on board may have been paid to disable the ship at the preset co-ordinates. The captain followed protocol, surrendered.”
Johnny’s opinion of that protocol was unprintable. Once you were in the pirates’ hands, anything could and often did happen.
“The cruise line personnel and the ship itself have already been ransome
d thanks to the company’s K&R insurance.”
Kidnap and ransom insurance as a routine way of doing business? Damn, this Sector was really screwed up.
“We believe the target of the grab was Miss Immer.” The briefing officer swung to the projected holo of the woman. Johnny watched the Sector Governor, who winced and buried his head in his hands for a moment. Interesting. “As you know, Ms. Immer is a key member of the staff of the Sector Fifty Five agricultural agency.”
He pondered the victim, memorizing her face. Her perfectly coiffed hair, impeccable makeup, gemstone earrings and expensive dress in the agency ID file didn’t shout “farmer” to him. Being a rancher, if a bureaucrat like her came to him to discuss crop rotation or breeding stock, he’d have a more than healthy dose of skepticism. She’d have to demonstrate a lot of expertise in the field to get his respect.
“Ransom negotiations have been underway but the kidnappers are demanding an excessive amount, as well as other considerations, and we anticipate the talks are going to break down.”
For a farm agency employee? Johnny considered her again and watched the governor, whose eyes were glistening. Oh no, this was a personal issue all the way. He wondered if well-known Mrs. Governor Gurgins was as distressed about the fate of a minor bureaucrat.
Now the briefing officer hesitated, giving his superior officer a glance. “Additionally, Ms. Immer has a medical condition which could be life threatening if she’s unable to receive proper treatment. Therefore we’re going in now, to extract her.”
“Sectors Command was unable to reassign a team of Special Forces operators to handle the job–”
Johnny heard the subtext loud and clear. The Sectors authorities were aware this was all bullshit, Ms. Immer was the governor’s mistress and probably had no life threatening disease but the detail made a handy pretext for taking action, rather than waiting for the standard ransom procedure to play out. The governor apparently couldn’t bear to go through the K&R process, panicked and yanked everyone’s chain to get her rescued. Which could get her killed, especially as these eight boy scouts seated at the table were regular troops, not Special Forces. Johnny bet the pirates knew damn well who they had in their prison and how valuable she could be. And he’d been assigned as window dressing, to show the Sectors cared. When of course the politicos didn’t give a rat’s ass over the fate of one low ranking clerk, but couldn’t afford to ignore a rising young governor ascending in the Sectors power structure, who wanted his pretty mistress rescued. Johnny slouched lower in his chair. He hated these political missions.
“Sergeant Johnny Danver, who had extensive experience on Farduccir during the original engagement with the Mawreg, has been assigned by the Sectors to our task force as a consultant. He’s a highly decorated veteran of more classified missions than we have time to talk about.”
Johnny raised one hand in a casual wave as all eyes in the room turned to him for a moment. “Happy to help.” This was either going to be a piece of cake as promised, and he’d be on his way home in a couple of weeks or it was going to be the most screwed up job he’d ever been on and he’d never see Azrigone again. He’d bet heavily on the latter outcome. At least it was him and not Mike, since his cousin had a new wife and a baby on the way.
The briefing ended and the officers and the governor departed. As soon as the door closed, Captain Scortun took the floor and the atmosphere lightened. The soldiers kicked back in their chairs. “I don’t have to tell you how important this is to the Governor,” he said, sitting casually on the end of the conference table. “We get his lady home in one piece and he’ll be all kinds of grateful. This could be our most important mission to date, gentlemen.”
He brought up a holo of a building. Johnny gave the screen his full attention. “Ms. Immer is being held here, in a wing of the warlord’s own palace, if I can use the term so loosely. Pretty much a large house in the middle of a compound. Umarri’s aware she’s got more than usual value, so she wasn’t put into the prison or sent to another camp. The neutral party negotiating team has been allowed to meet with her and give her the meds she needs.” He winked. “We’re going to be dropped here after dark.” He indicated a point in the low foothills, probably two hours away from the palace compound. “We’ll reach the target at midnight, cut our way into the rear of the estate, break into the wing of the palace, grab Ms. Immer and be on our way. The pickup point is here.” He indicated another spot in the foothills to the east.
“How many guards?” Johnny asked. “What level of armaments are they carrying?”
Captain Scortun gave him an odd look but answered readily. “Fifty men patrol the palace compound but only ten in the area we’re concerned with at any given time. The pirate ground operation is on the lean side.” He keyed the readout to display winking red dots. “Intel says these are the patrol routes. We’ll have a window of time to get in and out. Armament? The locals undoubtedly broke into the stockpiles the Sectors left behind when we withdrew, although anything valuable was supposed to be destroyed or rendered inactive. Any gear the inhabitants swiped is fifteen years old.”
“Fifty to nine isn’t great odds.”
“These are poorly trained thugs,” the corporal seated next to Scortun scoffed. “Who herd sheep when not playing soldier for the warlord.”
“You can choose to believe that,” Johnny said, giving the scoffer a stare. “The mountain people are fierce warriors, disciplined, tough.”
“Ok, right. Noted.” Scortun gave a few more operational details as his men asked sporadic questions. “Briefing concluded, men, we’ll be leaving the Station in six hours.”
“Aren’t we going to outline alternate scenarios?” Johnny asked.
“Not sure I catch your drift, sergeant. We go in as I discussed, we grab Ms. Immer, we exit.” Scortun raised one eyebrow.
“What if the route in is heavily guarded? What if there’s been construction since those holos were created? What if she’s been moved to another cell? Are you aware in this season northern Farduccir is subject to violent storms? Flash floods? What if we’re cut off from the designated exfil point – where’s the backup?” He couldn’t believe the officer in charge wasn’t going to run at least a few what ifs. In Special Forces, teams spent hours ahead of the mission working out the job from every conceivable angle and a few batshit crazy, inconceivable possibilities. Operators had to be prepared for all eventualities because as soon as the boots hit the deck, plans were subject to change. The Lords of Space loved to laugh at the plans humans made.
“Stand down, sergeant,” Scortun said. “We get you’re an ex Special Forces op. Retired, right?”
Johnny nodded, although taking note of the vaguely contemptuous tone the captain gave the word ‘retired’. “Honorably discharged.”
“Sorry Command dragged you into the game for this. No need to prove anything to us. Stay out of our way, take orders, come along for the ride. My men and I have done this kind of job before.”
Slouching in his chair, Johnny raised his eyebrows. “On a world like Farduccir?”
“Simulated.” Jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, Scortun’s attitude was pugnacious. “And several hostage situations on various worlds in our Sectors. We’re the go-to strike team in Fifty Five.”
My sympathies to the citizens of that Sector. “Just tryin’ to help.”
“We don’t need your help, except as an extra gun maybe. I repeat, stand down, sergeant.”
“Yes, sir.” Johnny thought Scortun was lucky he’d come along for this ride, not Mike, who would have pulled rank on this clown, handed him his ass and run a proper operation. Maybe there’d been another reason why Sectors Command had wanted Mike, to instill discipline into this disaster in the making. Resolving to watch his own six because for damn sure he didn’t trust these jokers to do the job properly, Johnny studied the holo of the pirate compound and surrounding territory and identified his own alternate methods of getting in and out.
The casual attitude of the S
ector 55 team continued to irk him as he geared up, had an excellent meal and later filed into the fast little dropship with his new, unfriendly comrades. Merely because the pirates weren’t used to having anyone attempt to extract their hostages didn’t mean they weren’t going to be prepared for the eventuality. These pirates did kidnap and ransom for a living. He sat at ease in his assigned place and tried not to feel like a grunt ground pounder, which is all the Sector 55 guys seemed to want from him. He’d keep his eyes open. His after action report was going to be a scorcher. The local command would probably bury it in the center of a black hole, but he’d be sending it unofficially to a few trusted old friends in the Special Forces command structure as well.
This was bullshit and the waste of a very expensive Sectors’ Tier One operator.
Him.
CHAPTER THREE
The pilot of the shuttle dropped them high in the atmosphere over Farduccir and the nine men descended in individual descent mode, forming into a squad on the designated small plateau in the forbidding foothills. Johnny at the rear, the soldiers marched in the direction of the pirate stronghold. Sure enough, about an hour into the hike, a storm struck. Fortunately for his companions, he’d marked a small cave formation in his study of the terrain and led them to shelter there, before a flash flood came along to wipe them out.
The soldiers lounged around the cave, barely able to see each other in the gloom, and groused.
“Tell me again why we had to come in to rescue this woman now?” said the corporal. He glared at the sheeting cold rain outside.
“Word is the governor’s wife is bidding against him in the ransom negotiation,” the captain replied. “Might have even arranged the grab in the first place.”
Hostage To The Stars: A Sectors SF Romance Page 2