“Alright, Pope, sir,” Ghost called. “Make this easy on yourself.”
“God will save me,” the Pope cried out.
Dean tapped into Ghost’s external speakers.
“Your eminence. We are not a danger to you. We have not killed your guards or any of the people here on Rome Three. The only danger to you is the climb you making. It is not necessary. Please come down.”
“You are here to take me away,” the Pope cried out, sounding terrified.
“No sir,” Dean said. “My name is Captain Dean Blaze and you have my word that we are not here to take you off world or interfere with your reign as Pope. Our mission is to stop the fighting. We need you to negotiate, that is all.”
The Pope looked up again. He was only halfway to the top of the shaft, and Dean could tell by the elderly man’s rotund body that continuing up was a bad idea.
“I will come down,” he announced as if it were his own idea.
And for the first time since entered the New Rome system, Dean felt a sense of relief.
Chapter 27
They got the Pope to the elevator safely, then lowered him back through the opening. There was blood on the bodies and on the floor of the elevator, and the Most Holy Father lifted his robes so they would not be stained. Dean could see the sweat rings under the obese man’s arms, and didn’t really understand how the blood of men who had been sacrificed to save his life would taint the Holy Father, but he didn’t complain. Instead he helped the elderly man out of the elevator.
Dean insisted that they wait for Ghost and Harper in the tunnel where the smoke from the explosion wouldn’t choke the Pope. His platoon’s armor filtered their air, but the Holy Father had no such device and was coughing by the time they were back to the barriers in the tunnel, where Dean and the Pope both sat.
Ghost and Harper soon joined them and they made their way slowly back to the elevator and up into the papal palace. Dean immediately radioed for Chavez, but got a response instead from Chancy.
“He’s back with the doctors,” the Corporal said. “No questions asked.”
“They didn’t mind treating EsDef soldiers?” Dean asked.
“No, they took Cat straight back and then Chavez. I gave them your credit account.”
Dean knew Chancy didn’t have the information to his credit account, and it was another swipe at Dean’s authority, but he didn’t mind. He was just glad to know Cat and Chancy were getting the help they need.
“Let’s take the Holy Father up to his rooms,” Dean said told Adkins and D’Vris. “He’s not to be left alone, but he can rest.”
“How can I rest, when my people are under unlawful occupation by a foreign army,” the Pope said.
“Not your people,” Dean replied. “Just you, sir. The EsDef brass will ensure that there is a fair resolution for both you and the people who are opposed to your ideas.”
“They will be excommunicated,” the Pope said.
“I’m not here to tell you how to lead your people,” Dean said, trying to keep his exasperation from showing. “But you are confined to your personal quarters.”
“I shall pray for my people,” the Pope said.
“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Dean said, before turning to his platoon. “The rest of us need to work out a rotating shift to keep the compound secure. I want every weapon used against us gathered up and stored in the armory. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
“Yes sir,” Ghost said. “I’ll see to that. Are the Triplets still here?”
“They’re guarding the main gate,” Dean replied.
He moved to one of the ornate sitting chairs and carefully lowered himself down. Tallgrass approached, bent over the wound on his dislocated arm.
“You need medical attention, Captain,” she said.
“No doubt, but it will have to wait. I’m about to check in with Major McDowell right now.”
“The Pope surely has people that can come to the compound and supply medical aid. Some of his guard will need it. Can I have your permission to have him summon medical personnel?”
“Yes, of course,” Dean said. “That’s excellent initiative, Sergeant. Thank you.”
She nodded, then turned to followed D’Vris and Adkins who were leading the Pope up the curving staircase.
“Carver, Wilson, Kliner, report,” Dean said.
“All’s quiet Captain,” Kliner said. “Atlas went down to the storage room to man the hole we made last night once the main entrance was secured again.”
“Excellent. Alert me right away if anyone approaches.”
“Uh, Captain?” Tony Wilson spoke up. “I may have a problem.”
“What’s going on, Private?” Dean asked.
“There’s a pretty large group of people gathering outside the compound wall. Not sure what they’re planning to do, but if they decide to come in I won’t be able to hold them back for long.”
“Alright,” Dean said, holding back the curse he wanted to shout. Taking the compound wasn’t nearly as complicated as holding it. The Swiss Guard wouldn’t stay unconscious forever. Once they started coming around, they would be a grave threat to Dean’s platoon who were spread thin trying to secure the compound.
“Let me contact Major McDowell, then we’ll make a plan,” Dean said.
“Yes sir,” Wilson replied.
Dean switched to the command frequency, shaking off the fatigue that was making his eye lids droop. He had never felt more tired, and the temptation to be released from the constant throbbing of his dislocated shoulder in the sweet embrace of sleep was almost more than he could stand. But he had fulfilled his mission and he was proud of his accomplishment. Of course, it was mostly the work of his platoon. They were the ones who deserved the credit for his victory and he was determined to ensure that everyone knew it.
“Command, this is Wolfpack, do you read, over?”
Almost immediately Major’s McDowell’s voice crackled through Dean’s TCU.
“Blaze, do you have him, over?”
“We do sir,” Dean replied. “The compound is ours and the Pope is in our custody. We request immediate assistant to hold this position.”
“Excellent! Damn fine work Captain. I’ll be frank, I wasn’t pleased to learn you were on this assignment. The last thing we needed was a showboating officer looking to further his overblown reputation. But you came through when the shit hit the fan. We’ve just about gotten all the downed shuttles located and rescued. I’ll be reforming platoons and getting you some back-up ASAP, over.”
“Thank you Major,” Dean said, not really sure he meant it. He knew that he was young and inexperienced, which placed a target on his back, but his platoon had gone above and beyond the call of duty on this mission. “This is a precarious position. My platoon is not at full strength and we’re at risk of being over run. We simply don’t have enough firepower to hold this compound for long, over.”
“I understand. The sun is coming up and we’re getting the word out that the Pope is ours. It shouldn’t take long to get you some help. Major McDowell, over and out.”
The line went dead and Dean indulged himself just for a minute, closing his eyes and leaning his head back on the cushioned seat.
“Captain, we’ve got trouble at the storage building!” Private Wilson said in a frightened voice.
Dean immediately brought up the vid feed from Wilson’s battle helmet. He was far enough away from the hole in the wall that he wasn’t in immediate danger. Dean saw him turn and kneel in a defensive position, activating his shield and bringing his utility cannon to bear.
“Hold on, Wilson. Help is on the way,” Dean said.
“Tallgrass, Adkins, Harper, Ghost, meet me at the storage building directly across from the palace entrance.”
“Sir, we haven’t finished collecting weapons?” Harper replied.
“It will have to wait,” Dean said. “We have townspeople trying to get into the compound.”
Getting to his feet
was painful, but Dean managed it, just as Tallgrass and Adkins came down the curving staircase. He didn’t wait for them, knowing they could outpace him. He wanted to administer more pain suppressors but the jolting waves of agony were helping him stay awake.
He was at the door when the first townsfolk tried to come through the hole in the compound wall. Wilson fired non-lethal ammo from his utility cannon, bringing down the first four people to enter the room. The darts didn’t take them out immediately, and they were able to walk a few steps toward Wilson, and even fire guns at him. His shield held but Dean knew they were in trouble. They needed a way to seal up the compound so that the angry townsfolk couldn’t get in.
Rocks, bottles, and more bullets came flying into the hole, but no more people had entered. Dean and the others were hurrying in when a man with no shirt dove through the hole, rolled over his shoulder and onto his feet. He had a gun in one hand a knife in the other. He ran at Wilson as soon as he was on his feet.
The HA Private fired a dozen flechettes at the man, but he was a fast moving target and most missed. A few of the tranquilizer darts found their mark and he slowed just as he hit Wilson’s shield. He was fading fast but he had just enough momentum left to lean around the shield and pull the trigger on his side arm. Wilson toppled over before Dean and the others could reach him, in those precious few moments fifteen people flooded through the hole.
Dean heard the people shouting. They were manic, some were angry with the Pope and his constant demands on them, others just wanted to get inside the compound and steal the treasures stored there. Dean didn’t blame them, nor did he feel he could relate to the would be looters, but history was rife with examples of people who felt powerless rising up to bring their oppressors down, usually in a violent fashion.
Dean didn’t shoot, his utility rifle was strapped to his back, held in place with the electro magnets that held the gun in place. He drew his side arm, but the other Specialists were already shooting. There were screams and curses, but the civilians fell and Dean went to Wilson who was struggling to get back on his feet.
“Are you hurt, Private?” Dean asked.
“Just a few bruised ribs is all,” Wilson said. “The bullet didn’t penetrate my armor.”
Dean saw the pistol in the bare chested man’s hand. It was a .22 caliber target pistol. If it had been something more powerful it might have caused serious damage.
“There’s more coming through that hole,” Ghost said, firing another round at a man starting to come into the storage building.
“I’m going up on top,” Dean said. “Maybe I can talk some sense into these people.”
“Careful Captain,” Wilson said. “They’re armed and angry.”
“I get that,” Dean said. “You, Ghost, and Harper hold off anyone else who tries to get through. Tallgrass, see if you can find something to block that hole.”
“Yes sir,” she said, hurrying off.
The storage building was a large place, and filled with more items than most warehouse stores back on earth. Dean reasoned that Sergeant Tallgrass was a resourceful person and would be able to find something to plug the gap in their defenses. Still, he couldn’t help but worry about what might happen if the Swiss Guard came around while Dean’s platoon was tied up with a mob of angry civilians.
He was panting by the time he reached the top of the metal staircase that led up onto the roof of the building. Dean was relieved to see that the guards they had put down in the night were still unconscious on the rooftop. He went straight to the wall, which rose to his waist, and looked down. There were hundreds of people in the street near the hole in the wall. They were shouting and cursing. More people were running wild through the town. Dean could see that several buildings were on fire, and more were being broken into. It was a full blown riot and that was bad news for Dean’s platoon who were struggling just to hang onto their position.
There were several weapons on the roof that had been used and dropped by the guards. Dean picked up an assault rifle and fired half a dozen rounds into the air, away from the crowd. The recoil was hard to control using just one hand, and sent waves of pain that made Dean dizzy, but the crowd below him quieted and looked up. Dean cranked his external speakers as high as they would go and addressed the rioters.
“My name is Captain Dean Blaze, Off World Force Recon,” he said in slow diction that he hoped would be a calming influence on the rowdy crowd. “The Papal compound is under EsDef control. We have the Pope in custody, and promise to bring a swift end to the civil war.”
“Get the hell off our planet!” someone shouted.
“We don’t need you here!” another voice exclaimed.
“Death to the goon squad!” a third person screamed.
Dean saw one man raising a rifle and was just about to back away from the wall when one of Harper’s drones came swooping down out of the sky. It soared back up into the air, then dropped one of its small bombs into an empty portion of the street. The explosion sent a black plume of smoke into the air and left a crater in the asphalt.
“We have not used deadly force up to this point,” Dean said. “But anyone who tries to enter this compound will be put down without regard to safety. Go home, stay off the streets, and put your weapons away.”
The drone buzzed the crowd again, sending many of them hurrying away. Dean stared down the rest. His eyes were burning and he had a terrible taste in his mouth, every bone in his body ached, but the crowd didn’t know how fragile Dean felt and they slowly drifted away. Dean breathed a sigh of relief and then slowly made his way back down the metal staircase. There was still so much to do, and Dean couldn’t rest until every last one of them was done.
Chapter 28
They piled boxes and filing cabinets in front of the hole in the storage room wall. Wilson stayed behind in the storage room to ensure that another group of rioters didn’t dig their way through. Everyone else was sent to finish collecting weapons. Dean knew they would have to post guards at the armory to keep the Swiss Guard from reclaiming their firearms and beginning the battle all over again.
As Dean trudged across the plaza his comlink transmitted a message from Sergeant D’Vris who was with Adkins guarding the Pope.
“The Pope’s personal physician is at the gate, Captain,” D’Vris said.
“Great,” Dean replied, unable to keep the pain and fatigue from his voice. “Private Kliner, is the area around the gate clear?”
“Yes, sir, just one woman outside. She doesn’t look like he’s here to start trouble.”
“Let her in and escort her to the Palace. Then return to your post,” Dean ordered.
“Yes sir,” the HA Private said.
Dean lumbered up the steps, the pain in his chest from the shotgun blast was bad, but it paled in comparison to the agony radiating from his dislocated shoulder. He knew that if he didn’t get the injury seen to he might end up with permanent damage. Yet the thought of anyone even touching his injury filled him with such dread that he started shaking. He had just settled himself into one of the seats inside the grand reception hall and was berating himself for being weak when the door opened. A tall woman in black slacks and a white doctor’s jacket entered with a heavy looking black medical bag. She had fine features, dark brown hair, pronounced cheek bones and full lips.
Dean struggled to get back to his feet, and switched on his external speakers.
“You’re the doctor?” he asked.
“I am the Most Holy Father’s personal physician,” she said proudly. “How bad is he hurt?”
“He isn’t hurt,” Dean said.
“God has protected him,” she declared.
“Perhaps,” Dean replied, not wanting to argue with the attractive physician. “He is in his room upstairs, resting or praying. Some of his guard will need your help.”
“It is no surprise,” she said. “The brutality of the Extra Solar Defense Force is well known.”
“We didn’t hurt anyone we didn’t have to.
Non-lethal ammunition and tactics were employed. Although the Swiss Guard didn’t return the favor.”
“The bodies outside,” she said, waving toward the front entrance to the palace, “they aren’t dead?”
“No ma’am, just unconscious. They may have a few bruises from falling down, but they aren’t injured.”
“You are injured,” she said. “Your arm? Your shoulder?”
“Both,” Dean replied. “But you don’t need to worry about me.”
“It is not worry, it is my calling. I’m a doctor. I don’t pick and choose my patients. You are hurt, I’m a healer, it’s that simple.”
“No, really,” Dean said, his fear of the pain he knew her examination would cause made him suddenly uncooperative.”
“You are a Captain, right?” she asked. “My father was military. The two bars on your armor, that’s a Captain’s insignia.”
“You’re correct," Dean said.
“Well Captain, I’m going to have a look at that shoulder. Tell me what happened.”
Dean wanted to argue, but he knew his shoulder needed medical attention. He wasn’t of use to anyone in the state he was currently in. The injury was such a drain on his stamina and strength that he could hardly stand up. He filled the doctor in on the dislocation and how it occurred.
“I don’t think I can get my armor off,” Dean finished.
“It’s probably just a partial dislocation,” she informed him. “I can fix it and the pain will cease. But I need you to trust me. A little pain now, relief once the shoulder is reset.”
“Do what you have to do,” Dean said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though his heart was already pounding at the prospect of increasing the pain his shoulder.
Welcome To The Wolfpack Page 17