Peacekeeper Pathogen (Galactic Alliance Book 6)

by Doug Farren

  Chapter 26

  Tom donned his combat armor. After closing itself up, the suit ran a full set of diagnostics then reported it was functional and fully armed.

  “Locked and ready,” Tom told Lashpa.

  “I’m already in my car,” she replied. “I’ll let you take the lead. This is a civilian vehicle and is not equipped with warning lights or a siren.”

  “We’re in no hurry,” Tom said. He grabbed a combat rifle off the rack and headed down the ramp.

  “Still,” Lashpa said. “You should take the lead just in case.”

  Tom climbed into his waiting tricycle and sat down. The seat had automatically reconfigured itself to accommodate the greater bulk of the combat suit. “Take us to the mobile command center,” Tom said. The Orion’s AI took control of the tricycle.

  “Tom?” Orion began.

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’ve established a financial link between Gen-Perfect’s start-up capital and a prominent Puritan.”

  “I would love to hear the details,” Tom said. “Link in with Lashpa so she can hear this as well.”

  “Ms. Shoemaker was located and has been interviewed. She admits that the money used to start Gen-Perfect may have originated from a questionable source, but she is adamant in her claim to have built a law-abiding company that follows all laws and regulations. A detailed audit of the company records backs up this claim. There’s a good possibility that the start-up funds were deposited into her company’s account by the CAIN software without having a source. Due to how thoroughly this software had infiltrated the banking system, it will be impossible to trace it even if it did have an origin. The payments, however, are a different story.”

  “She would have to make payments on the loan to give legitimacy to the start-up funds,” Tom said.

  “Such payments would also provide the Purists with additional funds,” Lashpa added.

  “Up until the CAIN software was discovered and deleted,” Orion continued, “the payments being made to cover the loan were sent to an account in a bank that did not exist. Mrs. Shoemaker had no way of knowing this. After the CAIN software was deleted, her company received a notification that her loan had been transferred to another bank. Her payments have been going there ever since. At first glance, the account appears to be legitimate but the only funds leaving the account are through electronic transfer to other accounts unrelated to the business the account owner is involved in.”

  “A shadow account,” Tom said.

  “Precisely. I followed all of the transaction details and discovered a complex network of interconnected accounts spread across several star systems. Although this is not unusual, an analysis of the transactions indicated that the funds were just being moved around to confuse the auditors as to where they were destined. A detailed analysis of every transaction from all of these accounts has led me to a single individual—the High Sultan of Safa. He has access to, but is not the owner of, most of the accounts where the money is actually withdrawn and used to purchase tangible items.”

  “Does Sorbith know about this?” Tom asked.

  “I’ve sent a full transcript of my research to his ship,” Orion replied. “He’s aware the information is there but has not reviewed it.”

  “Ask him not to take any action against the High Sultan for now,” Tom said. “I want to be the one to arrest that bastard myself.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Tom didn’t need to use his siren or lights until he neared the perimeter the National Guard had established around the Purist facility. A large crowd of media and onlookers had gathered near the barrier. He slowed down and allowed his authority as a peacekeeper and the insistence of the National Guard to clear a path for them. Switching on his external speaker, Tom informed the guards that the civilian vehicle behind him was being driven by a peacekeeper. They made it into the security zone without incident and arrived at the mobile command center a few minutes later.

  The command center had been moved to an empty parking lot three blocks from the Purist facility. A large group of marines wearing body armor were standing at parade rest not far from a group of armored personnel carriers. They were being inspected by their commander who was slowly walking down the ranks, briefly stopping in front of each person. Four peacekeepers dressed in combat armor stood off to one side. Tom’s suit identified them as a Shandarian, two Terrans, and an exceptionally rare Shiltan—an eight-legged species rarely seen outside their own star system.

  Opening a private channel between himself and Lashpa, Tom said, “I didn’t know there were any Shiltan peacekeepers.”

  “I was surprised as well,” Lashpa replied, joining him as they approached the other peacekeepers. “Krish tells me there are only two in the entire Alliance. Their cybernetics are exceptionally complex.”

  “I can imagine!” Tom said.

  Tom and Lashpa introduced themselves and got to know their counterparts. The Shandarian was a female named Sonvel Tetch, The Terrans were both male; Aditya Kathirithamby and Samuel Slack. The Shiltan was also a male with a name that non-Shiltans could not pronounce. “Please just call me Crenda,” he told them after introducing himself using his proper name.

  Tom was very tempted to ask why Crenda had become a peacekeeper but decided against doing so. He had probably been asked the same question hundreds or thousands of times. So instead of asking him directly, Tom had Orion ask Crenda’s ship.

  “The others in Crenda’s triad, including his four children were killed in an accident,” Orion replied. “He barely managed to survive and had to have three of his legs replaced with bionic equivalents. After he recovered, he applied to the academy. His ship wanted me to thank you for not asking him directly. It’s a subject he would rather not talk about.”

  The peacekeepers chatted among themselves as the marines broke ranks. The commander walked over to the peacekeepers and introduced herself. “I’m Sergeant Phylicia Workman. My squad is ready for action.”

  Tom made the introductions, indicating he would be in charge of the operation once they were inside the Purist facility.

  Sorbith arrived 30 minutes later. He was not wearing combat armor. Tom walked over to him as he was getting out of his tricycle. “Hold on a minute Tom,” Sorbith said, before Tom could say anything.

  Sticking his head into the command center, Sorbith asked, “Has the media been warned?”

  “Yes,” a woman sitting at one of the consoles replied. “Their drones should be clear of the area.”

  “Good. Activate the screen.”

  The woman reached up and flipped a switch causing a low power shield to be erected. The shield generator, along with the fusion reactor that powered it, was inside a nearby trailer. Unlike military-grade shields, this one was specifically constructed to defuse light, communication signals, and audio-frequencies. It passed harmlessly through matter and was used to provide privacy when needed.

  As soon as he was satisfied the screen was in place, Sorbith walked out of the command center, raised his voice, and said, “Can I have everyone’s attention please!”

  There was a movement of people and soon everyone was gathered near the back of the truck. “Everyone here is aware of the fact that we’ve identified a Purist research facility located underneath the offices of Gen-Perfect. I know you’ve been wondering why we haven’t moved against this facility sooner. The reason has been withheld because of the panic that would ensue if the public learns of what I’m about to tell you.

  “When the facility was discovered, the Purists inside claimed to possess a thermonuclear warhead. Since then, that claim has been verified. But, unknown to them, we have a way to remotely disarm the warhead—but only for a short amount of time. I will make one last attempt to negotiate a peaceful surrender and if that fails we’ll immediately begin our assault. The peacekeepers will go in first with the goal of securing and permanently disarming the warhead. The marines will enter only when told to do so by myself. Are there any questions?”r />
  “Shoot to kill or subdue?” a voice yelled out.

  “Subdue if possible,” Sorbith replied. “But if your life is in danger, take whatever action you need to protect yourself. We don’t have a lot of time to waste. Our secondary objective is to recover as much of what’s inside as possible. Any others?”

  There was a moment of silence, then Sorbith said, “Peacekeepers Wilks and Lashpa are in charge inside the facility. I’d like a word with them before we begin. Demolition team, please double-check the truck. Dismissed!”

  “Do you actually think you can negotiate with these people?” Tom asked.

  “Realistically, no. But I have to try.”

  “How are you planning on gaining access to the facility?” Lashpa asked.

  “A team of engineers took a close look at the video you provided. They believe the entire upper platform tilts slightly and then slides under the building to uncover the opening. We’ll be backing a truck into the loading bay that’s been modified to blow the cement block out of the way as quickly as possible. Since we have a limited amount of time to act, there’s a ship standing by in orbit ready to fire every available beam weapon into the facility. If we can’t blast them out, we’ll boil them alive. Since this is your operation, you two will be the first to go inside. You and the rest of the peacekeepers will be stationed about a block away while I try to negotiate. Questions? … Then let’s go!”

  A short time later, a small delivery truck backed into Gen-Perfect’s loading dock. Sorbith stepped out of the driver’s seat and said, “Purists! Do you hear me?”

  There was a short delay then a male voice said, “I hear you. What do you want and why is that truck here?”

  “The truck is for some important material the employees of Gen-Perfect asked us to retrieve. I’m here to negotiate the terms of your surrender.”

  Laughter echoed off the walls of the loading dock. “It is you who will be surrendering the Earth to us,” the man replied. “Have you forgotten that I have the power to vaporize this entire city?”

  “You might think twice about doing that,” Sorbith replied. “A fleet of warships is currently en route to Safa with orders to destroy all its major cities if you carry out your threat to detonate your warhead—if you actually have one.”

  “You don’t have the guts to- - -”

  “Earth has been remarkably patient with you Purists,” Sorbith interrupted. “My people would have arrested every one of you. If you were Tholtaran, Safa would be a lifeless planet.”

  “We are the chosen people of Earth!” the man shouted. “Our planet belongs to us and we will be triumphant no matter the consequences. If we fail, others will rise up after us. We will never give up! Leave or I will blow this city to hell right now!”

  Sorbith turned and started walking out of the truck bay. Focusing his thoughts, he sent a single command to his ship via the biolink: “Now.” Speaking out loud, he said, “You have 12 hours to surrender.”

  “Get that truck out of here!” the man yelled.

  “Extending antenna,” Tri-Star said.

  As soon as he was clear of the truck bay, Sorbith quickened his pace. His destination was an armored vehicle parked in the street a quarter-block away.

  “Link established” Tri-Star reported.

  “Tom,” Sorbith said, as he reached the vehicle’s door. “Get ready.”

  “Weapon status received.”

  “Ready,” Tom reported.

  “Transmitting target coordinates … The weapon has gone silent.”

  “Execute!” Sorbith said, slamming the armored door behind him.

  Chapter 27

  Inside the truck bay, small explosive charges fired, driving a set of hardened steel spikes into the cement, solidly anchoring the truck to the ground. One hundred microseconds later, another set of spikes were fired into the bottom edge of the loading platform. Their explosive tips detonated, raising the front edge of the slab a few centimeters off the ground.

  Inside the facility, hydraulic rams groaned as they became overpressurized by the slab’s unexpected movement. There was a pause of 300 milliseconds before the main shaped charge inside the truck detonated, blasting a wedge-shaped piece of ultra-hard metal out of the back of the truck and into the cement slab.

  Two hundred and fifty kilograms of high explosive blew the truck bay apart, sending the shredded remains high into the air and out into the street. The blast rocked the vehicle Sorbith had taken shelter in, peppering it with shrapnel. Almost every window facing the explosion shattered, filling the street with glittering glass. Most of the labs and offices of Gen-Perfect were destroyed as the entire building shook from the explosion. The shock-wave rolled through the first floor blowing through walls and equipment as if they weren’t there. The blast blew out the entire front of the building filling the street with debris. The floor of the second story was briefly raised and then collapsed down into the first floor.

  The metal wedge hit the front of the loading platform splitting it in two. The power of the explosion forced the wedge deeper, driving the pieces to either side as well as forcing the two halves to slide underneath the building into the space it would normally have moved into.

  Hovering above the building, the Orion and the Tri-Star used their tractor beams to pull the debris away from the center of the explosion. Their goal was to keep the entrance to the Purist facility as clear as possible. They were still engaged in this activity when the six peacekeepers appeared, running down the center of the street, weapons at the ready.

  “A metal door has been exposed,” Tri-Star reported. “It appears to be damaged but is still intact.”

  “Cut it open!” Sorbith ordered.

  The peacekeepers stopped a hundred meters from their goal and waited. The Tri-Star rolled upside down so its top-mounted particle beam cannon could be used, took aim, and fired a short half-second blast. There was a huge shower of molten metal and smoke as the powerful beam tore through the metal. The ship’s AI evaluated the results of its first strike and fired a second shorter burst.

  “The entrance is now clear,” Tri-Star reported.

  “Go!” Tom said, leading the charge. By the time he arrived, thick black smoke was rising from the hole. Stopping at the edge, he leaned over and dropped a drone through the opening. A second later, a diagram of the interior appeared on his HUD. The floor four meters below was littered with debris. A large hydraulic power unit in the corner was burning, releasing a thick cloud of black smoke. Fire-suppression foam was spraying from a series of nozzles in the ceiling. Broken and bent hydraulic rams and pieces of supporting structure were scattered around the room. The drone identified a single closed door at the far end.

  Tom looked at Crenda who, by previous agreement, would be joining him as the first to enter the facility, and said, “Let’s go!” He then turned and jumped. He landed with a loud thump as his combat armor automatically absorbed the impact by flexing his knees. As soon as he was clear, Crenda arrived, landing on six of his eight legs, the other two holding a rifle at the ready.

  Tom walked over to the door and looked it over. There were no handles or controls visible. “A second line of defense,” he said. “Looks armored.”

  “I wonder how thick this floor is,” Crenda said, tapping on the concrete with an armored foot.

  “Let’s find out,” Tom replied. “Orion—lasers—burn a hole through this floor!”

  “Acknowledged.”

  Tom and Crenda backed up against the wall as two white pencils of light began drawing a circle on the floor. The fire suppression foam flashed into a cloud of steam then the concrete began to smoke and crackle, throwing off small pieces in a shower of superheated dust. The circle quickly started to glow. Twenty seconds later, a plug of concreate fell away and a shaft of light appeared. Crenda tossed a drone in the air and it descended through the hole. The image of a long, empty hallway appeared.

  “Looks like they weren’t expecting us to do that,” Tom said. “We’re
going down to the next level. We’ll secure the hallway until everyone else is there.”

  Tom went first, followed by Crenda. The hallway extended three meters in one direction and 25 meters in the other. Tom positioned himself a few steps down the hall while Crenda opened one of the two doors inside their immediate security zone.

  “Storeroom. Clear.” Crenda reported.

  A thud announced the arrival of Aditya. He looked around, then walked over to the freight elevator.

  “Another storeroom,” Crenda said. “Also clear.”

  “The elevator is on the lower level,” Aditya said, peering down the open shaft he’d exposed by forcing the door open.

  “Drop a grenade,” Tom ordered as Sonvel arrived. “We’ll use the stairwell.”

  Tom walked over to the next door and tried the handle; it was locked. The label on the door identified it as Microbiology Lab #2. Leaning against the door, he gave it a shove. The lock gave way and the door swung inward. An explosion echoed down the hallway as Aditya’s grenade destroyed the elevator.

  Inside the room, Tom found two male technicians cowering in the corner. One of them was holding a pistol, pointing it at Tom. As soon as he saw what he was up against, he threw the gun away and raised his hands. Tom stepped aside giving Aditya room to enter. A quick scan of the lab failed to identify anything that might be of Gwon origin.

  “Gun,” Tom told Aditya, pointing. “We’ll use this room to hold prisoners.”

  Tom backed out of the room, leaving Aditya to guard the first of their prisoners. Checking his HUD, he noticed that Samuel Slack was just about to enter the facility. “Sam, hold position at the first level. Keep an eye on that door. Sorbith, send a dozen marines to the second level. They’ll be in charge of getting the prisoners out of here as we find them. We’re going to need either a basket or a sling to pull them up.”

  “Roger that,” Sorbith replied.