The Battle for Lashmere

by Michael Freeport

  Woduur boiled around the corner and charged the four Marines. Valencia saw the yellow reticles of his squad on his helmet. He lined up a shot on one of the untargeted Woduur. The creature’s surging movement made a clean kill difficult. He settled for a shot to the lower torso. The creature staggered, and he was able to follow up with a headshot two rounds later.

  Valencia flicked his eyes over the sensor report. At least seven more Woduur were still around the corner, and he could see five still surging towards his unit. “Tactical withdrawal, everyone. Cover by twos.”

  Moreno and Cooper started to scuttle back, leaving Hawkins at the point closest to the Woduur. A shot pinged off of the heavy armor on Valencia’s chest. He barely noticed. His sights were on the closest Woduur. He double tapped into the invader’s chest and then got a shot through the neck. The head was nearly blown off, only holding on by a single thread of tissue. Blue blood spurted from the exposed neck and the Woduur soldier dropped to the ground a few feet from Hawkins.

  Cooper shouted and fired a short burst into the Woduur advancing on him. The metallic legs scrabbled jerkily for a few seconds, and a blend of blood and what looked like oil spattered on the ground beneath it.

  As the creature fell, it raised its rifle and unloaded a rapid-fire burst right into his faceplate. Cooper screamed and went down. Valencia’s squad status showed a flashing yellow icon next to Cooper’s name, indicating severe injury.

  Valencia yelled, “Hawk! Back, just run! Moreno, covering fire.” His external speaker was turned up to max. The sound of his voice boomed through the coughs of the Woduur rifle fire and the sharp cracks of the human rifles. Valencia ran forward and grabbed Cooper under his shoulders while Moreno shot her rifle over his head. He snatched Cooper’s rifle and threw it at Moreno. “Reload.” He dropped Cooper and turned, shooting into the advancing trio of Woduur. There were still eleven active on his status display. He was down to thirty-one rounds and dropping fast. Hawkins was down to energy shots, making his rifle about as effective as strong language. He was still firing for all he was worth, but his shots seemed to merely annoy the Woduur he hit.

  Their position was about to be overrun. Valencia toggled his comm circuit open. “Hawk, come get Cooper. Moreno, cover him. Both of you retreat at full speed. I’ll cover you.” He knew he wasn’t likely to get away, the best he could do was save the rest of his team.

  “Sarge,” Moreno started.

  “Now, Private.”

  Valencia put five rounds into the closest Woduur. It dropped and thrashed in place. Valencia took another step back, flickering his eyes between his squad position markers and the Woduur coming towards him. Moreno was moving out ahead of Hawkins, who had Cooper over his shoulder.

  He dropped another Woduur. Twenty-four bullets left. He took another few steps back, looking for some solid cover. The tunnel was clear. Two shots hit him simultaneously, knocking him from his feet. He felt a burning sensation in his chest. The armor was slightly breached. He jumped back to his feet when he heard Moreno calling out over the comm circuit.

  “Contact rear, Sarge. We’re surrounded!”

  Chapter 17

  The small rented delivery van bounced and bumped its way over the rough road leading to the power station. Cobb held the wheel with a grim mask over his features. He forced his unhappiness to one side. The requirements of the mission overrode any personal moral qualms he might have. He held the security badge, stolen from Elise’s purse, in his right hand.

  He clenched the wheel in his left hand until the knuckles showed white. A bend in the rough gravel road brought the power station into view. The area was close to the edge of Talatis, the capital of Lashmere. Fortunately, the power station itself was in a slightly isolated industrial area.

  Cobb brought the van to a stop outside the gate. He left the small engine running, the uneven hum spoke of poor maintenance and heavy use. He walked to the gate and looked it over. A simple mechanical lock was the only barrier to his path. He slid a slim leather pouch from his pocket. He inserted two picks gently into the lock. One to keep the mechanism steady and the other to gently push the tumblers into the unlocked position. After a moment of careful effort, the cylinder rotated with a soft sigh of metal against metal.

  Cobb pulled the van onto the concrete apron of the maintenance yard. He backed up to the power panel that controlled the feed to Lashmere Intelligence Headquarters. He got out and opened the rear doors. The wood frame, along with a few hundred feet of copper wire weighed more than a ton. He carefully rolled the frame onto a small loading cart, much too small for the task required of it.

  The cart creaked and groaned as the coil rolled onto it. He grunted and strained to move the makeshift frame without damaging it. The alignment of the coil wasn’t precise, but it still needed to be roughly round to be effective.

  A few more minutes of sweating and straining got the coil into position. He opened the door and swung the panel open. Somewhere, on some status board, he knew that it was likely to show up, but he was gambling that no one was watching. Response times to open panel alerts could typically be measured in days rather than minutes or hours.

  He got the heavy clamps connected to the contacts for the primary power feed and then wired his remote dialing device to a separate power source. He measured and then aligned the internal clock with that of his wrist comp.

  He turned and shut the cargo doors. The van, still running, sat obediently, waiting for Cobb to put the rest of his plan into motion. He had the feeling of a man who was taking a step onto thin ice and refusing to turn back. If things went poorly, it was no better than even odds he would survive the night.

  He thrust his misgivings aside. He would not return to his pathetic desk in the enforcement division and continue to give out parking tickets while the Woduur invaded. Adding insult to injury, the Karn had the most powerful warship known to exist, and he was quietly and carefully forced out of the place where his abilities could best benefit the people of Lashmere.

  He shook his head and belted himself back into the driver’s seat. The van lurched into gear and shook its way back to smooth pavement. The tiny engine wheezed less with the huge weight of the coil removed, but it still sounded unhealthy. He checked his comp. He needed to be approaching the headquarters building in not more than thirty-five minutes.

  He intended to hit the headquarters building near the end of the third shift, forty or fifty minutes before shift change. Everyone would be concentrating on getting to the end of another routine day. He checked his navigation. He had plenty of time. He stopped the van and pulled on a counterfeit security uniform over his street clothes. The uniform wouldn’t fool a scan, but at a distance or in bad light, it should allay any suspicion. Security traveled in all of the common areas of the building, but intelligence agents patrolled secure zones. Heavily armed intelligence agents.

  Cobb sighed and pulled the van into the division parking lot. He stepped out of the van and moved towards the building at a leisurely pace. The key card clipped to his belt was technically a violation of security protocol, but one so flagrantly disregarded as to arouse very little suspicion.

  He advanced boldly on the building. Everything in his manner suggested he was exactly where he belonged. He chose a pace fast enough to make it appear he was on business of some sort, but not so fast he aroused suspicion. He entered the public vestibule at the front of the building. As he did, he crossed his hands behind his back, tapping one of the buttons on his wrist comp. The tiny computer vibrated in response. He now had exactly two minutes to get inside the secure perimeter.

  He strode across the lobby, his long legs making short work of the open area. Since less than an hour remained until midnight, there were no visitors in the lobby. The first security door allowed him entry by swiping the badge near an automated reader. The door popped open. He turned left, making his way down a familiar hallway.

  He advanced on a manned security checkpoint. His wrist comp hummed gently. Fifteen sec
onds left until the first part of his attack on the building’s electrical system engaged. He stopped in front of the guard manning the post. Cobb didn’t know him. He raised his hand in greeting and made as if to speak when all of the lights shut off.

  Emergency lights came on a fraction of a second later, bathing the area in sharply contrasting pools of light and darkness. Cobb turned and addressed the guard. “Hi, I’m Agibnale. Security officer Agibnale, I mean. I was just assigned from the parking structure.”

  “Hey. I’m Dan Philmore. I just started here a few weeks ago. Since they relocated so many of the agents to deal with that invasion down south. Hang on a second. The backup generator should kick on and get the power back up.”

  Cobb nodded. “Does this happen often?”

  “Only once since I started here. It’s probably some kind of drill.” The lights came back on. Cobb rested his hand across his wrist comp, casually crossing his hands in front of him. Then there was a loud boom from deeper inside the building and all of the lights shut off. Only oddly spaced battery operated lights were on this time. Even the emergency circuit was out.

  Philmore looked over his shoulder. “Hang on, Agibnale. What’s your first name?”

  “Fred.” Cobb hoped the guy would either wave him in or pass his stolen ID through a scanner soon. If one of the security guards recognized him while this idiot waffled on what to do, he was in trouble. “Look, I need to get to the security station to brief in early for third shift. Do you mind?” Cobb waived the security badge at Philmore.

  “Yeah, sure. Okay.” Philmore motioned for him to cross into the secure area of the building. The gesture was a flagrant violation of security protocols.

  Cobb nodded and said, “Thanks. I’d hate to be late.” He swiftly moved around the corner and stopped at the restroom. Inside, he removed his security uniform and stuffed it inside the plumbing access in the last stall.

  Cobb moved to the sinks and rinsed his face, then slicked his hair down. He waited for several minutes until he heard the sound of footsteps passing by the closed restroom door. That would be the battery backup security scanners being brought up to the outer security perimeter.

  Cobb smiled at his reflection and quietly exited the bathroom. A quick scan of the hallway showed no movement. He moved towards his destination. He kept his footsteps soft to avoid giving his position away. The hallway he was in led to a set of stairs. The secure mainframe was in a room in the third sub-basement. The stairs would take him to the second subbasement.

  A security guard was coming up the stairwell as Cobb descended. Two battery operated scanners filled his arms. The guard glanced at Cobb and then did a double take. Cobb recognized him immediately. Officer Hill, the shift supervisor. This was not good. Hill was a large man, more than ten centimetres taller than Cobb and also much more heavily muscled. Hill dropped the scanners and reached for his radio with one hand while his other grabbed at his sidearm.

  Cobb vaulted over the rail and across the short span between the stairs. A yawning drop of more than thirty meters swept under him as he cleared the second rail and piled into Hill. The two went down in a resounding crash of bodies and scanners. Cobb tried to twist and land on top of Hill, but Hill came down atop him at the bottom landing.

  Cobb twisted to the side, trying to get his legs under him. Hill punched Cobb in the head with a gloved fist. Cobb saw stars, and his right ear felt like someone had set off an explosion in it. Cobb spun in the opposite direction, trying to get a handle on the situation before Hill pummeled him into unconsciousness. He got his arm up just in time to deflect a second punch to his face.

  Cobb grappled with Hill’s right arm. The distraction was just enough to give Cobb the opening he needed to get his knee between himself and the security guard. A heave of his legs flung Hill to the floor beside him. Cobb scrambled to his feet. Hill was only a second behind him and dropped into a guard stance, giving Cobb the initiative.

  He led with a high attack, forcing Hill to bring his guard up. Cobb then reversed the direction of his move and hit the guard in his left kidney with a reverse roundhouse. It was a weak, slow attack and Cobb felt Hill’s hands clamp onto his right foot. Cobb tried to disentangle himself from the larger man with no success. Hill pulled Cobb in and locked his right foot under his left elbow. Hill raised his right hand to drill Cobb once again. Cobb leaned back and jumped up with his left leg, spinning over his extended right leg and kicking Hill in the face with his left foot.

  Blood spattered on the wall next to Hill, and when Cobb completed his spin, getting both feet under himself again, he saw Hill was bleeding heavily from a tear running down the right side of his face. Hill spoke for the first time since seeing Cobb. “Nice move, little man, I’ll give you that. Give up now, or I’m going to really hurt you before I take you in.”

  Cobb didn’t respond and instead jumped to his left, bracing his left leg against the wall and then pushing off to get a massive height advantage before coming down through Hill’s upraised right arm with both of his fists clenched together onto Hill’s collarbone. An audible crack filled the air. Hill went down on one knee and cradled his now disabled right arm. He turned just in time to see Cobb’s fist crunching into the bridge of his nose.

  Blood exploded from the crushed nasal passages. Hill shrieked in pain and clutched his face with his left hand. Cobb didn’t waste any more time on fancy moves. He snatched the sidearm from the floor and stunned Hill.

  Cobb let himself relax. The adrenaline drained from his system quickly, and he suddenly became aware of the pain he was in. His head felt like it had been used as an anvil for the last half hour, and both his hands hurt from punching Hill’s bony face and shoulder. Cobb retrieved Hill’s handcuffs, bound him and fashioned a gag torn from his pant leg. Cobb bent and lifted Hill over his shoulder.

  “I’m getting too old for this,” Cobb muttered to himself. He figured Hill must weigh a hundred kilos. Cobb grunted when he saw the scene on the landing. Hill’s blood was pooled over a square meter or so on the floor and splattered all over the wall. There was no fix for it. Cobb carried Hill to a utility closet on the first subbasement. He went back, retrieved the scanners and dropped them next to Hill’s inert form. He jammed the door by wedging a wad of fabric into the frame.

  He quickly retraced his steps and descended to the second subbasement. At the bottom of the stairs, he paused, listening for anyone walking nearby. The door onto the second subbasement creaked open. A short hallway ended at another security door. Another security guard was stationed there with a hand scanner. Cobb approached, trying to keep his left side to the guard. He presented his pass to the scanner, which obediently beeped the approval code.

  The guard looked down at the screen and said, “What are you doing here so late, um, Elise?”

  Cobb never answered. As soon as the guard looked away, he raised the weapon taken from Hill and stunned the guard. Cobb hurried past, not bothering to hide the unconscious guard. The server room was only about thirty meters from where he stood. The final barrier was an automated cipher lock. The power for the lock was on the independent power system that kept the secure server up and running. Cobb dashed down the last flight of stairs and turned left. The door was shut, the red glow of a secure mode illuminated.

  Cobb slid his stolen card into the lock. The light switched from red to amber. A challenge code appeared. Cobb needed to enter the correct response code within thirty seconds or the door would disable itself, and it could not be opened without the director’s override.

  This was the one part of his plan he could not predict. The cipher he knew was old. If the cipher progression was updated, Cobb would be unable to gain access to the secure server room. He steeled his nerve and tapped out the response sequence. The light winked from amber to green, and the door clicked open.

  Cobb took a hesitant step inside. The room was lit, and the server access terminal was unmanned. Cobb stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Two quick steps saw him sea
ted at the terminal.

  Nine floors above Cobb, Agent Johnathan Stone turned his attention from the monitor. “He’s in the mainframe room, Director. Also, paramedics are with Hill. He’s going to have to go to the hospital. Do you want me to send in the security force?”

  “No, not yet. I want to see what he does.”

  “Is that wise, Director?” Stone’s tone was dead level, but his words belied his uncertainty to allowing this radical step.

  “His intent matters much more so than his actions. Wait until we see what he looks for.”

  Chapter 18

  Hanlon stared hard at Tolon. “Why are the Woduur here?”

  “They have yet to reveal their purpose, Captain,” Tolon said.

  “Well, obviously,” Hanlon said. “Can you guess why they would come here now, to try to talk to Leader?”

  “Their emissary has only spoken with Leader’s adjutant. It has not yet given me this information.”

  “Is that unusual?” If Tolon was shut out of the information flow, it would make it difficult to understand what was going on outside New Dawn.

  “It is not. While I am specially trained for diplomatic situations, Leader has the privilege of withholding any information it has in its possession. When leader feels I must know the Woduur’s purpose here, it will give me the knowledge.”

  That was hardly a reassuring response. “Great. Why would Leader keep you ignorant of the Woduur’s reasons for coming here?”

  “I can think of no easily intuited conclusion.”

  “Fine. Dawn, can you detect anything about the Woduur ship?”

  “Sensor systems are currently degraded. Presence of Woduur life signs at the edge of the system confirmed. Estimate of ship classification is courier. No offensive or defensive systems are detected.”

  “Well, that’s something, at least.” Hanlon was relieved they were flying an unarmed transport rather than a warship.