“We can’t bring your troops across that field,” Angelika said as she studied the image. “At least, not during the initial stages of the conflict. They’d be picked off before they were within a hundred yards.”
“Agreed,” the Ah’J replied. “That is why we will come in from a different angle.” He pressed a series of commands into the computer. The top-down image rotated to a side view. On the far right of the image, opposite the base’s main entrance and a hundred feet below the compound, an amber line quickly appeared, made a ninety-degree turn when it was directly under the center of the image, then moved up to intersect with a central building.
“You’re going to tunnel your way in?” she asked.
Maboda nodded. “Robotic excavators. Very small. The tunnel is only wide enough for two Jidoans to make it through at a time. We’ve been digging slowly for almost a month now. We’re nearly ready to make the final turn.”
“And what’s that building that the drill is intersecting?”
“The headquarters building,” he said matter-of-factly.
There were a half dozen other places she considered better insertion points; near the eight-story-tall water tower, or the back lot of the motor pool. Hell, even burrowing into the gymnasium was a better option. The last thing she wanted to do was drill right up into the most fortified and protected building in the base. “That’s a little bold, don’t you think?”
Maboda smiled. “It is, and that is exactly why we are doing it.” He pressed another series of commands into the computer. The view changed back to a topographical one. In the far corner of the compound, Maboda pointed to a large, square object. “That’s the shuttle landing pad. There’s a control room nearby, manned by a single guard.”
Angelika nodded. “An offworlder?”
“Krador wouldn’t trust a Jidoan with such a job. Nonetheless, shuttle landings and departures are almost entirely computer controlled. Since shuttle codes are encrypted and impossible to duplicate, there’s no reason to suspect an enemy would be capable of penetrating this area.”
“Let me guess. You just happen to have a shuttle with the correct codes?”
“Not exactly. The codes are cycled out on an hourly basis. A stolen shuttle would be useless after that time. However, I do know where we can find one.”
Angelika studied the map of the complex for a moment longer. Beside the shuttle landing area was the interrogation room, which she was told hadn’t been used in over a week. To the northwest of the interrogation room was the detention area, full of Jidoan dissidents and Sector Command personnel. An aerial extraction was out of the question, due to the fact that just to the south of the brig was one of three identical Marine barracks, each holding about five hundred armed soldiers. The headquarters building was directly in the center of the complex. Vehicle and supply storage and handling took up the majority of the northern half of the base, while the armory, the bulk of the Marines, and their training grounds took up the southern half. Angelika began to piece the plan tighter, and Maboda chuckled lightly as he read her thoughts.
“A distraction,” she said with satisfaction.
“Precisely.”
* * *
“Vice Admiral Navarro, this is Lieutenant Davidson.”
In his room on the third floor of the officers’ barracks, the call had stirred Navarro from a deep sleep. On the eve of Krador’s invasion of Unified Space, his second in command had retired from the festivities earlier to catch up on some much-needed slumber. The fleet preparations had finally taken their toll on Krador’s most trusted officer, and the vice admiral was more than angered at the interruption. He reached a large fist over and slammed it down on the communications terminal beside his bed.
Navarro tried to clear his throat. “This had better be good, Lieutenant, or you will soon find yourself on the losing end of my patience.”
Though visibly nervous, the lieutenant managed to convey his message. “Sir, seismic sensors are registering a disturbance under the compound.”
“Again?” Navarro barked. “Did you not assure me the last time this happened that it was due to geologic instability?”
“Yes, sir. But this time it does not appear to be natural.”
Navarro swung his muscular frame fully from the bed, then stood to stare down on the terminal with a raised fist. “Specify!”
“It’s directly under the complex, sir. Beneath the headquarters building. Depth is one hundred feet and rising.”
Navarro should have expected this. With over half of the base’s Marines and troops already transported up to the waiting fleet, the complex was woefully unprotected. It must be those disgusting dissenters we’ve heard rumors about. Only they would be foolish enough to attack this complex, and only they would be wise enough to know its current level of protection.
Had it been an hour later, Navarro would simply have evacuated the remainder of the personnel and destroyed the complex from orbit. However, Fleet Admiral Krador was still in the compound tending to last-minute preparations. If Krador got wind of a pending attack and discovered that Navarro had done nothing to stop it, it would surely be the vice admiral’s head on a pike. No, Navarro had to act quickly to stop any of this from reaching the fleet admiral’s ears. Unfortunately, Krador was in the same place as the would-be break-in: the main headquarters building. Navarro would need stealth.
Navarro turned cold eyes back to the lieutenant on the screen. “Send two squads of troops down to the sub level. But be quiet about it, lieutenant. I do not wish to alarm the fleet admiral.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How many troops do we have outside the base at this time?”
“Three squads, sir.”
“Recall them immediately, but keep the main gate secured. We’ll all be departing soon, and I want all personnel accounted for and inside the compound.”
The lieutenant snapped a salute. “It will be done, Vice Admiral.”
Navarro closed the channel, then retrieved his sidearm from a nearby cabinet. Checking its charge, he made his way slowly but purposefully from his room in the officers’ barracks across the courtyard to the administrative building. Whoever had the audacity to tunnel into this base, Navarro wanted to be there personally to deal with them when they popped up.
Less than ten minutes later, while walking across the wide courtyard of the base, Navarro watched as three troop-carrying transports flew overhead toward the landing pad on the far side of the complex. By the time he neared the administrative buildings front doors, the ground assault troops had filed from the shuttles and made their way to the Marine barracks on the opposite side of the interrogation building.
After taking an elevator to the lower level, Navarro and two squad commanders had joined the three dozen troops in the direct center of the sub level. Spread out in a wide circle, with all weapons at the ready, they scanned the floor and waited for whatever was about to come through.
“Distance?” Navarro asked one of the junior officers who was holding a seismic scanner.
“The tunneling machine has increased speed. Distance is fifteen feet and climbing. Estimate penetration is three minutes.”
Navarro addressed everyone present. “No one will fire until I have given the order. I want them alive to be able to answer for their insolence.”
Just as he crouched down, a rumbling sound began to reverberate through the thick floor. The volume increased until the underground drilling unit broke the surface of the sub level floor. The tracked vehicle, perhaps four feet long and three feet wide with a drill bit nose, scurried from the circular opening and stopped a few feet into the room.
Navarro waited several long seconds, but no one had yet emerged from the newly formed tunnel. Signaling his men, he had them fire a series of stun grenades directly into the hole. The tunnel below was awash in a series of bright flashes of light as the devices were triggered. When the last of the devices was activated, Navarro signaled three men to leap into the hole and secure the prison
ers.
Fools. Did they really think they had a chance?
Less than a minute later, Navarro’s communication device signaled him.
“How many of them have you captured?”
“Sir, there’s no one down here.”
Navarro’s mouth was agape. “What do you mean? They must be hiding.”
“There’s nowhere for them to hide down here. It’s just a tunnel, dug back as far as I can see. There’s nothing here, sir.”
Just as Navarro began processing the information, there was another series of tremors in the ground, more violent than when the digging machine had burrowed through.
“Seismic activity!” someone shouted.
“I can see that, you fool! From where?”
The technician looked worriedly at his equipment. “From the surface!”
A more violent quake—one Navarro recognized as the aftermath of a surface explosion—knocked everyone but him from their feet.
“We’re under attack!” the vice admiral shouted. “Everyone get to the surface!”
As Navarro ran past the inert drilling machine, a rapid series of beeps emanated from the device. He turned to look at it just as his mind registered what was about to happen. “Everyone take cover! The drill is a—”
Inside the barracks adjacent to the interrogation center, Angelika and Ah’J Maboda looked out from one of the fifth floor windows at the chaos below as the Sanissaric they had brought with them removed their pilfered uniforms. Krador’s people were running everywhere, firing at figments of their imagination—thanks to the nearly two dozen Sanissaric Kinetics under Moboda’s command. Then the entire building shook, and Angelika had to steady herself from falling over.
“That would be our little surprise package in the sub level,” she said with obvious delight.
Maboda, his copper-colored skin glistening with sweat, grunted his agreement. “We must move quickly. Our position will soon be compromised.”
Angelika looked out to the guard positions on the compound’s walls. The turret operators were laying down a haphazard spray of fire outside the base, firing at the Unified Sector Command Marine hover tanks that were, in their minds, converging on the compound.
“How long can your people keep up the ruse?” she asked.
“Not much longer. The more minds the Kinetics have to touch, the more strain their own bodies are placed under. As I said, we must move quickly.”
Angelika turned from the window to the twenty Sanissaric guardsmen in the room with her. Thankfully, as Maboda had indicated while they were in the stolen troop transport shuttles, this particular barracks would be all but empty; the men living here were now lying dead far from the compound—some at Angelika’s own hands.
“We have the elevated position,” she said, nodding toward the windows. “Have your men take out the guards on the wall. When that’s done, we can spread out in different directions.”
Maboda nodded. He turned to his men, his purple and red robes flowing a moment behind. Angelika watched as Maboda divulged the orders silently, and she knew he must be communicating with them telepathically. Just as quietly they turned from him and took up positions in every available window around them. From inside their robes they withdrew long-barreled rifles, shattered the glass before them, and took aim. One by one Krador’s men began to tumble from the walls, their last shots still aimed at the invading Unified forces that were projected into their minds.
Maboda turned back to Angelika. “How do we divide?”
“I’ll need three men with me. We’ll get to the detainment center and free the prisoners.”
Maboda nodded. “And I will take ten with me. That should be enough Kinetics to continue our ruse at the compound’s main entrance.”
Angelika withdrew sidearms one at a time, checked their charges, and then slipped them back into the holsters at her side. “Good luck, Ah’J.”
“Luck is for fools and offworlders. We are Sanissaric.” Maboda’s smile was broad as he withdrew his onyx-like staff. “So I guess that means I should be saying ‘good luck’ to you, Agent Angelika Jordan.”
She winked at him, which seemed to take the stoic officer off guard. “We’ll talk about it later.” Then she turned and dashed for the nearest lift with two Sanissaric troops on her heels.
Fleet Admiral Maros Krador was sitting in his office on the third floor of the administrative building when a sudden jarring drew his attention from the fleet status report he had been reviewing. As the entire building shook under the force, his coffee cup bounced free of the desktop and crashed to the floor, shattering into a dozen pieces.
Reaching for the communication button on his terminal, he brought up the major in the nearby security building. “What’s going on?” he shouted at the bewildered-looking officer.
“Unknown, sir. Instruments have registered a sizeable seismic shock wave originating at the center of the administrative building. We may be under attack, but it could also be—”
“May be under attack, you fool? We are under attack!” Krador spat. “That was no tectonic instability! That was an explosion!”
The officer, fearing his life was at stake, rightly agreed with his commanding officer. “Yes, sir.”
“Where is Vice Admiral Navarro?”
The security major shook his head. “At last report, he was there in the administrative building. We’ve since lost communications with him.”
“Search this building from top to bottom, Major, and—when you find him—kill him!”
The security officer nodded sharply in understanding.
“In the meantime, open a secure channel from this terminal to the Eximer. I want to speak to Ru’olf Vannik right now!”
Outside, the crushed rocks under Angelika’s dark boots crackled as she and her three accomplices dashed for the detainment center. One of the Sanissaric, falling slightly behind the others, was downed by a stray shot from across the complex. Arriving quickly at the door, she looked to the remaining two Jidoans. “Is anyone in there? Any guards?”
The first Jidoan reached a metal-shod hand out and placed it against the side of the building. He closed his eyes, concentrating his thoughts to what lay beyond the doors.
“There is one guard…an alien…just beyond the door. The others are all prisoners.”
“Can you distract him?”
The Jidoan shook his head. “The walls of this building are shielded. I cannot enter his mind.”
“Then we’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
Stepping to the door, Angelika withdrew her a small explosive device. Placed against the keypad near the door, the device erupted a moment later and the doors parted before she led the way into the building.
As told, there was a single guard for the hundreds of prisoners in the building. The Temkorian, more surprised than anything, was easy prey for the well-trained OSI agent. Not expecting an assault team to enter the holding area, the scaly, leathery-skinned alien was little match for Angelika. With a series of well-placed kicks in rapid succession, she knocked the Temkorian out cold before he had a chance to pull his weapon.
At three stories tall, and with the cell doors entirely opaque, the building’s design made it impossible for Angelika and her Jidoan escorts to see who was being held in the detention center. Hoping the refugees wouldn’t begin spilling out in a disordered fashion, she had little choice but to open all the doors at once. Thankfully, it looked as if the imprisoned Sector Command crew were all on the first level, with the upper levels dedicated to Jidoan natives.
As the prisoners gathered in the large central lobby, a disheveled Sector Command officer approached Angelika. Around his forehead, and covering one eye, was a soiled rag, probably fashioned from part of his tattered uniform. In tow with him was an attractive young female officer, a purple-skinned Ulithian with dark, mysterious eyes. The male officer must have been someone of importance; he seemed to exude authority as he confidently held out his hand to Angelika.
“I’m Captain Stephen Rothchild, commanding officer of the USCS Tripoli,” he said as Angelika took his hand in a brief handshake. “Who do I have to thank for our rescue?”
Angelika looked around the nearly full lobby. If they didn’t get out of here soon, they would be an easy target for Krador’s people.
“I’m Special Agent Angelika Jordan with the OSI, and you’re not exactly rescued just yet.”
“What ships have you brought with you?” Rothchild asked with concern. “And where in God’s name is your Marine battalion?”
“I left them at home, Captain. Not enough room in my pockets,” she remarked with all the wit she could muster. “I’m here with a legion of Jidoan defectors.”
Rothchild’s expression turned from elation to one of pure malice. “Those heathens are in league with Krador and the Kafarans, Agent Jordan. You’ve been working for the enemy!”
She paid his words little mind as she continued to scan her surroundings. There was only the single door they could use for their escape. She only hoped that Ah’J Maboda would signal her soon.
“Those ‘heathens’ have just freed you from this prison, Captain,” she said, motioning to the two Sanissaric guards with her. “And if you’re very kind to them, they may even be responsible for saving your life. Now, we have a plan to get everyone out of here, but you’ll have to trust us to get it done. All of us.”
Rothchild looked to his ragtag assortment of officers. They were tired, hungry, and most had suffered various forms of torture at Krador’s own hands. However, there was a fierceness in their eyes, a look of determination that they would see this one final battle for their own freedom come to pass.
“I don’t see that we have much of a choice at this point, Agent Jordan. But I’m officially logging a protest with this course of action. If it all goes to pot, you’re going to be the one to take the fall for it.”
Traitor Winds - Kestrel Saga: Vol. 0 (Kestrel Saga - Origins) Page 16