“Let’s figure that out later. So, your friend Aydin and some men are going to attack Dirac Station?”
“Yep, and they’ll blow it to bits! Well, Aydin will. The other poor guys won’t know about it. It’ll be the biggest boom you’ve ever seen. The whole world will see it. And then the war is guaranteed. Wait, wait… what time is it?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Well, I feel like it should’ve already happened. I’m trying to think. Should it have happened a while ago? It’s evening now, isn’t it? It should’ve happened hours ago. No, I don’t think I should be saying that. This isn’t right…”
The older man gave a brief nod, and Oz felt a pinprick in his forearm. Was there someone standing behind him, he wondered? His hands were cuffed behind his back, but he hadn’t noticed or cared. Then there was another delightful rush of warmth all through his body, though now the room began to spin.
“What was your name again, young man?”
“I’m Deniz, and this is my friend Bilal.”
“Yes, of course!” he smiled.
“What were you saying about a war, Oz?”
“What was I saying?”
“You said a war would happen if Dirac Station exploded?”
“Ah, yes. Pretty much guaranteed, don’t you think? Terrible pity about the people still there, though. I felt so bad for them when I heard about the plan. Such a shame to destroy that place, with all that it does for science.”
“If it’s not your plan, whose is it?”
“Aydin’s idea, really. Same with the rocket. And he had to go instead of me. Truly noble, that man. I’ll miss him so much.”
“Why did you want to start a war?”
“Oh, the Silvers. They’ve got to go, you know? Turned this whole country into a prison.” Oz felt his heart thumping rapidly in his chest, yet there was no pain with it. There was an odd numbness everywhere. “Say, how are you feeling? I’m, uh… well, I’m sure you boys can tell I’m no Young Turk!” He began to laugh, but it turned into a round of coughing.
Three other men stood behind Oz, but he still hadn’t noticed them. One was a staff physician monitoring Ozcan’s vital signs and injecting doses of amobarbital-6. The other two, standing in the rear corner of the room, were the director of the Iron Wolves security service and his counterintelligence chief.
The director unrolled his tablet and typed an encrypted text message directly to President Celik.
URGENT.
Interrogation of key suspect ongoing.
Missile power source confirmed American.
Conspirators also assaulting Dirac Station as false flag. If destroyed, assess war to be certain.
Recommend immediate increase of military alert level.
The director turned his attention back to the conversation in the room. His CI chief remained focused and impassive on what the traitor was saying, but underneath the director knew that his chief must have been petrified. If only Ozcan or one of his fellow conspirators could have been caught a day earlier, this awful dilemma might have been prevented. Now, the powers that be would need scapegoats, and the director would have to make sure it wasn’t going to be his own competence and loyalty called into question. It was too bad. He personally liked his CI chief.
Dirac Station – Labs Dock
1924Z, 24 December 2065
Twenty people stood side-by-side at the wide counter along the aft wall of the dock. Each had an identical control pad at their fingertips and a screen affixed to the wall in front of them, and each person controlled an individual Vespid. The tiny drones flew slowly and silently through ventilation ducts towards various spaces around Dirac, with the cafeteria and the accelerator control areas assigned six Vespids each. Sandoval was among those controlling a drone as were three of the Dirac representatives. Pierce allowed Schaube, Groves, and Trevino to assist, on the understanding that, though they were civilians, they were to follow her orders and hers alone.
The group discovered, upon skimming through the operating manuals, that piloting a Vespid was supposed to happen after a five-day training course. No doubt the CIA offered such a course somewhere in northern Virginia, Pierce figured, but at least her people were proving to be quick learners. Jake Waters sat to the side of the group with an extra Vespid control screen set to an open copy of the manual, and he spent his time reviewing the specs and guidelines in case a technical question came up.
Hunter Lynch stood with Pierce and Yates behind the line of drone pilots. Lynch took on the role of lead navigator for the group, examining a schematic of Dirac’s ventilation system and guiding the little swarms through the ducts.
The group of six drones assigned to the accelerator reached their destination, and they floated behind the air openings in the ventilation screen, set just below the room’s ceiling. The view was busy. A dozen Dirac hostages worked to examine and repair the detectors and other gear near the collider’s interaction point, and four of the armed intruders were visible, supervising them all. Yates came up with nicknames to reference them: “Bigshot”, who seemed to be in charge, “Junior”, “Tough Guy”, and “Beanpole”. Beanpole seemed rather out of place, being clearly older than the others and lanky compared to his muscular comrades. While the others carried automatic weapons, Beanpole was armed only with a handgun holstered on his hip.
“Approaching the cafeteria,” called out Lina Schaube.
The first Vespid of its group slowed to a stop behind the ventilation grate, and an elevated view of the cafeteria came into focus. It looked just as it had when the masked man called to make his demands. Dozens of hostages lay face-down on the floor amongst the tables, their hands locked on top of their heads. Pacing along the perimeters were two of the intruders, both heavily armed. They were labelled “Lefty” and “Shorty” by Yates, though there was no sign that either was the masked leader who had called earlier.
“There should be eighty-four of our people in there now, not one hundred,” Lynch reminded everyone. “Ever since they brought those sixteen others down to the accelerator.” The thirty-six people that the masked leader had promised to release had arrived unescorted in the Labs dock earlier, and all were now aboard the Lincoln.
“Something is odd about the tables and chairs,” Schaube said. “I just realized it. They’re where they normally are. They’re all collapsible and can retract flat into the floor, so the room can be converted into an open space, but nobody’s bothered to do that.”
“Would they really need to?” Yates asked.
“They don’t need to, but they should,” Schaube said. “They’ve corralled those people into the middle of the room, but all those tables are in the way. Also, even as well armed as they are, you’d think they’d have more than two men standing guard over that many hostages.”
“Others must be spread out elsewhere,” Yates said.
“I’m sure they are, but it still tells us something,” Pierce said. “Either they’re really confident about those two guys and their bombs being able to control a crowd that size, or there’s just not that many of them after all. This situation isn’t their ideal plan.”
“The undersides of those tables would be a good place for them to put gas bombs,” Yates said.
“Let’s see if we can get two of the drones near the comms panel where the masked man sat earlier. We can give them a call, and it’ll guarantee that one of them is right where we want him. The other four drones we’ll spread out along those two sides of the room where they keep pacing. And let’s make sure they’re well hidden, up in the corners.”
A new conversation came over the six Vespid screens showing the accelerator room. Bigshot held his fingers up to his helmet’s headset. “This is blue team, go ahead green.”
Beanpole walked closer, his hand holding his own headset. The Vespid operators had to turn their volume controls to maximum to hear him. “This is Doc, go ahead green.” On the screens showing the cafeteria, neither Lefty nor Shorty changed what they were doi
ng. They weren’t involved in the conversation.
“We received another message from Space Command via Mars,” Terzi said to them. “It’s similar to the last one, but the tone is more impatient. You said you wanted to know about this if it came.”
“Top, this is Doc,” Beanpole said, standing next to Bigshot. “You asked me to tell you about other information before it becomes relevant. I wasn’t sure if this second message would come in, but now that it has, I’m afraid I need to speak to you. Do you mind if I come to your location?”
There was a moment of quiet, during which Bigshot looked confused and annoyed. Pierce couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation but assumed whoever was on that side of it had a similar expression on his face.
“This isn’t something that you can share on a comms circuit?” Terzi said in Demirci’s ear.
“No, sir, I have to show you something at your location. It could affect the outcome of our mission.”
“Very well, just come up here. Bring Heavyweight with you as an escort.” After the screen switched off, Beanpole left the room with Tough Guy.
“Huh, they’ve got their own nicknames,” Yates said.
Pierce tried to make sense of what they had seen and couldn’t. “Just make sure our lookouts don’t interfere when they go past.”
* **
Demirci and Kervan jogged up the starboard corridor towards the Hub as they had done when they went to the cafeteria to gather repair workers. The hall was just as deserted, but this time Demirci’s heart pounded unlike anything he’d felt since Terzi and his men seized the Kostroma a day earlier.
You know what to do, he told himself. You know every step. You can do this. Do not hesitate. Stay sharp, stay cold, and think only of your tasks. The two ran past the side passage which led to the Labs dock, and a lone Lincoln officer stood at the hatch window to watch them run past. The tiny camera bubbles in the ceiling corners throughout the corridor were shot out, but there were no sentries posted outside the sealer door.
“Do you think the colonel will negotiate to get Dogan back?” Demirci asked.
Kervan shrugged as he jogged. “Can’t say. Dead or wounded, he’s never left a man behind on a mission, but the mission always comes first.”
“I suppose it doesn’t really matter,” Aydin said as the two approached the large hatch which led to the Hub. Kervan stepped in front of Demirci to use the access panel.
“What does that mean?”
The sergeant had a split second to see blood explode onto the hatch in front of him before his lifeless body dropped to the floor. Demirci holstered his sidearm and checked to make sure there was no obvious spatter on him. Grabbing some of Kervan’s equipment, including flashbang grenades and his submachine gun, he slung the weapon by the strap over his back and opened the hatch to the Hub.
CHAPTER 21
Dirac Station – Labs Dock
2003Z, 24 December 2065
“A gunshot?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lieutenant Clark said, still staring through the hatch’s window. “Two intruders just ran past heading towards the Hub, and a few seconds later I heard a single gunshot.”
“We don’t have any eyes over there,” Pierce said. “Lieutenant, you and Wilson go investigate. Dwyer, cover them.”
“Aye, Captain.”
* **
“Where’s Sergeant Kervan?” Terzi asked, seeing Demirci enter the Ops Center. Warrant Officer Toprak was in there as well, seated at a workstation and watching whatever internal station cameras were still available. Like Demirci, both of them had sidearms holstered on their hips with their heavier weapons slung over their backs though only Terzi wore his helmet. On the desk in front of Toprak, Demirci spotted Terzi’s detonator switch for the gas bombs.
“Heading back to the accelerator,” the doctor replied. “Captain Yazici needs people there to supervise, and I didn’t need an escort once I got to the Hub. Colonel, please show me this second message.” Cool and calm, he observed. Stay on autopilot. He thought he might get the involuntary shakes again after shooting Kervan. But he couldn’t afford them now.
“It’s here,” Terzi said, walking to the handful of desks which comprised the communications station. The message was displayed on one of the screens above the desks, looking nearly like the first one. It requested Dirac to adjust their comms suite to transmit a status message via Mars, but a line near the bottom read Relaymark 5423728466. Demirci repeated the sequence of numbers in his head. 542…372…84-66…
“Please explain the importance of this message,” the colonel said. “Should we respond to this one?”
“No, not yet. Colonel, I need to explain some technical details about the mission.” Demirci walked towards Toprak’s station and motioned for Terzi to follow. “Yasin, could you put on display the cameras in the accelerator control room?”
Toprak did, and Terzi stood to the left of the large man and looked over his shoulder while Demirci stood to the right. A screen showed Yazici and a handful of Dirac personnel standing around a control center workstation. Next to Demirci, the two men did not notice the doctor’s right hand rested on his hip’s sidearm.
“There’s a problem with the quadrupoles,” he said, and then spun to raise his weapon to the side of Toprak’s head. Aydin shot the man’s brains across the screens and onto the colonel. In the half-second it took to turn the gun onto Terzi, the special forces officer, without a shred of conscious thought, jumped backward and drew his own weapon.
Demirci and Terzi fired at the same moment, both jumping away from each other as they did. Terzi’s shot struck Aydin in the left bicep, tearing through the muscle and shattering the bone underneath. Demirci’s first shot blasted the colonel’s right shoulder joint. Terzi’s hand instantly released the pistol it held, and it clattered to the floor as each man dove for cover behind desks. Demirci’s second shot went wild and destroyed a display screen on the far wall.
“Crazy bastard! What are you doing?!” Terzi yelled as he struggled to retrieve the submachine gun strapped to his back. His sidearm was too far away for him to try for it. He was sprawled on the floor with his right arm now useless. The intense pain in his shoulder told him that the bullet must have exploded the entire joint.
Demirci didn’t yell back. Managing to stay on his feet, he dashed around the rear of the comms desks to peek at where the colonel was. Terzi was on the floor, awkwardly prying the weapon off his back with his left arm. Demirci had just enough time to leap out and aim before the colonel succeeded in rearming himself.
The doctor fired two shots into Terzi’s left shoulder, the second one causing his body to spin violently and throw his head and torso back to the floor. Demirci stepped out from behind the workstation and stood above the officer, keeping his pistol pointed at the colonel’s head. He finally noticed the searing pain in his own left arm, but the weapon in his right hand remained steady.
“I’m completing the mission, Colonel,” he said, stuffing the gun into his belt and stepping onto Terzi’s chest to pull off the officer’s helmet with his one good hand. There would be no headset chatter to anyone else. “I am sorry about this.”
Terzi sprang his legs upward, trying to lock them around Demirci and throw the doctor down to the floor, but it was too far and too late. Demirci bolted upright and pulled the gun out again, focusing its barrel between Terzi’s confused eyes.
“Tell me why,” Terzi said, breathing fast. His left shoulder was bleeding badly from a ruptured artery, and both arms were useless.
“I’ll give you an answer, Colonel,” Demirci said as he walked over to Toprak’s blood-spattered desk and pocketed Terzi’s detonator switch. “But you should clarify your question. Why did I turn on you? Why am I doing something you don’t understand? Or is it, why didn’t I shoot your head just now instead of your other shoulder?”
Terzi lay flat on his back and turned his eyes to the ceiling. “Any answer will do,” he said quietly.
Demirci finished gath
ering what he needed and walked over to Terzi again, keeping his gun pointed. “Why is this happening? Because your mission was only a part of mine. I had to use you. I can’t take the time to explain what the true mission is, suffice to say I do not work for the MGT. As for why didn’t I just kill you a moment ago… I don’t know. I don’t know. It wasn’t so that I could gloat. Maybe I just wanted to tell you first that you’re a good man. You’re a capable officer, and I know you have a family. I truly am sorry that I must do this.” He again pointed his weapon at the colonel’s head.
Terzi closed his eyes and whispered a brief prayer. Then Demirci fired a shot into his forehead.
Aydin stood over the colonel’s body, staring, and then inhaled and began to breathe. Step by step. Just stay cold, and it’ll soon be done… but can I remain focused through pain like this? His left arm was in agony, and an improvised sling wasn’t going to help much with the bone destroyed. Master Sergeant Dogan had the team’s medical kit, anesthetics included, but the kit was captured along with Dogan. Can I spare a few minutes to run to the station’s infirmary? …No. I need to begin the next step at once. Just let your arm hang limp. Oh God, the pain.
After one-handedly changing bullet clips and holstering his sidearm again, he set off for the Hub’s engineering section.
* **
“Confirmed, Captain!” Clark shouted, trotting back into the Labs dock. “There’s a dead intruder at the forward end of the corridor. The one we called Tough Guy. He was shot in the back of the neck!”
A rush of stunned looks appeared on the faces of Pierce and the others around her.
“What?!” Schaube exclaimed. “Who would’ve–”
“Beanpole,” Pierce and Yates said together. The XO continued, “It must’ve been. He and Tough Guy left the accelerator, and none of our people were nearby!” He and the other confounded faces turned towards Pierce.
“There are factors we don’t know about,” she said. “We can’t make sense of it from here. Robert, get our assault teams ready to go. There’s something new going on, and we may need to react to it.”
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