“Like what?”
“Let us in, lock the doors and weld them shut. That’ll do for starters.”
“How long to O1?”
“Ten minutes – maybe less. Better check in.”
“Ops, this is Valiant. We’re on our way in with bogies on our tail. What’s the plan?”
“Gunboat Valiant, this is Operations. Archibald here. You are instructed to dock in Hangar 1, Alpha Section. Over.”
“Ops, Jacks is right behind us. It takes ages to re-pressurise Hangar 1 after docking. Best dock at one of the airlocks on the outer ring.”
“That’s a negative, Valiant. Dock at Hangar 1. I repeat, Hangar 1.”
“Ops, this isn’t the time to–”
“Archibald out.”
“They’ve cut us off,” said Chuck. “What the heck’s going on? And what’s with the ‘Archibald’? He hates being called Archibald.”
Dobbs removed the muzzle of his Mk7 from Archie’s inner ear just as soon as the connection to the Valiant was cut. With his arms and upper body already bound tightly to the back of the chair by a length of stout cord, Archie found his head yanked firmly backwards.
“Open wide, there’s a good boy,” said Dobbs. He stuffed a piece of rag inside Archie’s mouth and then clamped it shut, fixing a length of tape over the outside. “I’m popping out for a while. Might be late back so don’t wait up.” He gave Archie a friendly pat on the shoulder before heading off to Hangar 1 where he hoped Burke was already in position.
Once alone, Archie strained at the cord tied around his torso. His right arm was completely immobilised but he found that he could move his left hand about two inches in any direction. The only advantage he could foresee was the ability to scratch his left buttock if it perhaps began to itch. His lower legs were free, though… and the chair was on castors which, though old and squeaky, gave him some limited mobility. Perhaps he could shuffle himself over to the exit… but would he be able to reach the controls… and even if he could, where would he go from there? It was then that he noticed Chuck’s keyboard on the shelf under the main console. Hmm, might work, he thought.
“I’m getting a weird message from Ops,” said Penny. “Text only.”
“What’s it say?”
“I don’t know – it’s not making a lot of sense. It says… trAO . No, it’s gone back. It’s… tr… tra[… no… trap!”
Archie had never tried typing with his toes before. It had been hard enough just to get his shoes and socks off and drag the keyboard off the shelf and of course, the damn thing had fallen to the floor upside down and it had taken further contortions before he’d been able to flip it over and find the power switch. Finally he was ready to type. Even with two fully serviceable hands, Archie wasn’t much of a typist, stumbling along using his forefingers. The surprising thing was that even though he could barely see the keyboard beneath his feet, he was no worse using two meaty toes.
What to send? Ideally, something along the lines of ‘O1 taken over by marines who believe you to be part of a terrorist organization and will shoot on sight the second you set foot on the station. Recommend evasive action’, but Chuck and Penny would be lined up for body bags long before he finished. He would also have cramp. ‘Trap’ would do fine. Followed by…
“Trap?” said Chuck. “What kind of trap? Who? Where?”
“Something else coming through,” said Penny. “It says… no it doesn’t… yes, it’s… go2 delta. It must be Archie.”
“And he’s using my old keyboard!”
“So we go to Delta Section?”
“Guess so.”
“Can’t we make a run for the space elevator or something?”
“Almost out of fuel,” said Chuck. “Send a reply. Message understood. And ask him who the bad guys are… and tell him that now would be a very good time for the cavalry.”
Marine Burke was standing just beside the main doors outside Hangar 1. There was a convenient porthole which gave him a perfect view of the whole hangar, including the external doors. He’d be able to make his move as soon as the ship was inside and the hangar pressurised. As he watched, he heard a steady clumping noise coming from down the corridor, growing louder with each consecutive clump. It was a sound he’d know anywhere – Easyfit combat boots on metal deck-plating.
“Any sign?” said Dobbs arriving at his side.
“Not yet.”
“I’m going up to get a visual on the target. Keep alert and stay on the com.” Dobbs took the stairs three at a time back up to Deck 2 and ran over to one of the windows that looked out into space. And there was the target, navigation lights winking as it headed straight for Alpha Section. It should disappear inside Hangar 1 just below his present position. Dobbs tightened the grip on his rifle; the commodore wouldn’t be too far behind and he intended to have everything well under control by the time he arrived. As the Valiant lined up on Hangar 1 it slowed to a near stop and Dobbs could see detail in the old ship’s hull. What an old bucket! It’s a wonder the darned thing could still fly. It did have a certain grace, he supposed. It even had wings of a sort… wings that suddenly flared as the ship zoomed neatly upwards and over Dobbs vantage point. Dobbs ran across to a window on the inner side of the wheel just in time to see the Valiant bank around the hub and disappear behind the far side of the station.
“Hell and damnation!” said Dobbs. “Burke, hold your position while I find out where they went!”
“Where who went?”
“The targets, you fool! They flew right on by.” Dobbs sprinted back down the Avenue to the hub, vaulted up the stairs and charged into Ops.
“Where did that ship go?” he bawled at Archie.
“Mmmrrrh?” said Archie through the tape, shoving the keyboard and his bare feet out of sight under the desk. Dobbs cursed as he left Ops, dashing to the very top of the hub, where he was afforded a 360 degree view around the station. The ship was nowhere to be seen but a few puffs of frozen vapour rose from behind the rim on the opposite side of the station.
“You’re mine,” said Dobbs, doubling down the stairs to the entrance to the Driveway and Delta Section.
Primrose switched her data-pad to silent mode and pushed it back inside her jacket. Three times she’s received the message from Dobbs ‘Lt Primrose – Please respond’, and three times she ignored it. After leaving Alpha Section she’d made her way to the stairwell above the Boulevard, the spoke connecting Bravo Section to the hub. Below Deck 1 Bravo was unpowered; the air was cold and only light came from the portholes which shone with the glow of light reflected from the planet below. Once below decks Primrose also found herself weightless. Keeping a firm grip on the handrail she pulled her way down the stairs until she arrived on Deck 3, right opposite the Boulevard. Setting her feet against the wall of the stairwell she aimed at the entrance to the spoke and pushed gently off. A few seconds later she was within reach of the rail that ran the length of the spoke and from there it was just a matter of going hand over hand until she neared the hub and gravity began to kick in again.
If Dobbs hadn’t been in such a hurry to get to Delta Section he might have seen Lt. Primrose entering the hub from the Boulevard. As it was, Primrose heard him pounding down the stairs and had just enough time to duck out of sight before Dobbs darted into the Driveway. Once he was safely out of sight Primrose ran up to Ops.
Archie was in a bind. In his haste to hide the keyboard under the desk he’d shoved it almost out of reach. He strained to grip it between the first two toes of his right foot but all he succeeded in doing was to push it even further under the desk. The message ‘go2 delta’ was still on the main screen and if Dobbs came back and saw it he’d be in deep trouble. He wondered what kind of consequences Dobbs might regard as ‘severe’. They’d probably amount to more than a slight ticking off. Making one last effort to grab the keyboard he heard the door open behind him. He cringed, expecting to see Dobbs appear at his shoulder but it wasn’t Dobbs, unless Dobbs had suddenly developed a
rather large bust.
“What’s the situation?” said Primrose, ripping the tape from Archie’s mouth.
“The marines are–”
“I know about the marines. What about Poulson and the Valiant?” she said as she loosened Archie’s bonds.
“I sent them a warning – told them that they were walking into a trap and to go to Delta Section. It’s the only thing I could think of.”
“Good work, but tell Poulson that he’s going to have company. Dobbs is on his way. Tell them to escape and evade. Then seal all the airlocks and lock them down – I don’t want any other hostiles coming aboard.” Primrose paused as her data pad began buzzing. “Dobbs is calling for back-up,” she said as she made for the exit.
“Where are you going?”
“To stop it from arriving.” Give Poulson the heads up and then contact fleet HQ and appraise them of the situation.”
‘They don’t pay me enough for this’, thought Archie as he opened a channel to the Valiant.
“What now?” said Penny as Chuck banked the Valiant around Delta Section and fired the braking thrusters.
“We dock,” said Chuck. “Get Benedict up from below. We’re going to have to make a run for it.” A few moments later Benedict appeared beside them.
“What about Hector?” said Penny. “Can’t we hide him or something?”
“Like where?”
“If you can put the core inside a reactor space the shielding will absorb the pings,” said Benedict.
“The main reactors are in the hub,” said Penny.
“Yes, but there are auxiliary reactors in every section,” said Chuck. “There’s one right by Airlock 25 at the far end of Delta. That’s where we’re going.” He guided the Valiant alongside O1 and smacked against the airlock. The docking clamps engaged, held, and Chuck at once killed the engines.
“Home again,” he said. “Let’s get moving!” He ran to the airlock and looked out into the corridor beyond. With the coast clear he beckoned to Benedict and Penny and together they hurried along to the reactor compartment, dragging Hector with them on his cart.
Burns, Mullins and Jacobs looked up in surprise as Lt. Primrose opened the door to Cell number 1. Mullins’ nose had stopped bleeding but it had turned an angry shade of purple and was still bent over slightly to the right despite Burns’ efforts to straighten it. Large bruises were also developing under his eyes. “What happened to you?” said Primrose.
“Neanderthal 3rd Class Burke,” said Mullins.
“Let’s hope you do better next time.”
“Is there likely to be a next time?”
“I’m afraid so, and sooner than you think.”
CHAPTER 15
Abandoning his post outside Hangar 1, Marine Burke set off to rejoin Dobbs in Delta Section. Entering the hub from the Avenue he found his path blocked by Duke Cooper and Ollie Oliver. Duke was busy wiping the handrails with a cloth while Ollie was sweeping the floor with an ancient broom. Burke skidded to a halt. “What’s the game?”
“We’re cleaning up,” said Duke. “Trying to smarten the place up a bit. Waste of time if you ask me, but Admiral Giles does like his spit and polish.”
“Admiral Giles? What about the terrorists?”
“Dobbs has that under control,” said Commander Jacobs, appearing from the stairwell.
“Dobbs never said anything,” said Burke suspiciously.
“He’s probably busy with the admiral,” said Jacobs.
“The admiral’s already here?”
“As we speak,” said Jacobs. Burke looked suddenly unsure of himself but then his com burst into life and the spell was broken.
“Burke! Where the hell are you?” squawked Dobbs over the com.
“Oops,” said Duke.
“You’re one of them!” said Burke, raising his rifle. Duke and Ollie immediately dropped their cleaning implements and raised their hands in surrender.
“You might want to think about your next actions very carefully,” said Jacobs.
“Oh yeah, and why’s that?” said Burke.
“Thing is…” said Jacobs, cocking his head to peer past Burke’s shoulder. Burke half turned and was just in time to see Mullins bearing down on him, a fire extinguisher held out in front like a battering ram. Burke ducked his head at the last moment and the extinguisher cannoned off the rim of his battle helmet. The force of the blow sent Burke staggering backwards and his rifle went spinning from his grip. Duke smartly kicked the rifle out of reach before he and Mullins jumped on the dazed marine.
“You’re nicked!” said Mullins. Burke howled in anger and kicked out at Duke who gamely hung on to Burke’s left arm until reinforcements in the form of Burns and the liberated Ops crew arrived. Burke shook an arm free and gave Duke a blow to the midriff which sent him sprawling to the deck, gasping for air. Bill Longman grabbed the flailing arm while Baz Jordan jumped on the big marine’s back and rammed his helmet down over his eyes. As the struggle continued Shorty Stiles cried in pain when he took a kick to the shin and Baz fell in a heap when Burke launched himself backwards into the wall, crushing Baz in the process.
Ollie and Guns looked on as Burke began to even up the odds. “Think we should do something?” said Ollie.
“Best stay out of it,” said Jacobs, picking up Burke’s rifle. “Looks like our lads might have the better of him, anyway.” As he spoke, Burns, Mullins, Bill and Duke finally managed to grapple Burke to the floor but the marine suddenly twisted and elbowed Bill in the stomach. As Bill lost his grip Burke rolled swiftly to the side and crashed a fist in to the side of Mullin’s head.
“Don’t like the look of this,” said Guns as Burke staggered to his feet and began to lurch forward, Burns and Duke still hanging grimly to his legs.
“How good is that battle armour?” said Jacobs.
“Supposed to stop small arms fire at most ranges,” said Guns.
“You sure?”
“Pretty much. Did in my day, anyway…”
“You think rifles might have come on a bit since then?”
“Suppose so, but so has battle armour, I imagine.”
“Oh well… you’re the gunnery officer.” Jacobs peered down the sights and squeezed the trigger. The round hit Burke in the right shoulder and spun him round like a top. Face twisted in pain, Burke rocked on his heels but stayed stubbornly upright. Jacobs took careful aim and shot him again in the opposite shoulder. Burke spun back the way he came and sank slowly to his knees. With a final grunt he pitched forward onto his face and lay still. Rubbing his head, Mullins got up from the deck and walked over to Burke’s prostrate form.
“And you’re still nicked!” he said.
Chuck might not have enjoyed Marine Burke’s familiarity with the sound of Easyfit combat boots on metal deck-plating but it took but a moment for him to deduce that the approaching sound wasn’t friendly. Aside from Archie’s warning that they were going to have company, the real giveaway was that whoever was coming was doing so at the double. That ruled out just about the whole of the Ops crew.
“Stay there and keep quiet,” said Chuck to Benedict as he closed and locked the door to Auxiliary Reactor 4. Benedict nodded in assent.
“What now?” said Penny.
“Let’s go,” said Chuck, “And whoever it is, let’s see if we can get them to follow us.”
“What?”
“Better that than them finding Hector and Benedict in that reactor compartment. Don’t worry, we can surrender later.” Chuck led Penny to the stairwell and they waited as the thudding footsteps drew closer.
As Dobbs traversed Delta Section he checked each airlock in turn. Airlock 27… nothing. 26… nothing. Airlock 25… there she was, the Valiant. Crouching slightly, he raised his rifle to the shoulder and advanced slowly along the airlock tunnel to the gunboat’s door. With his finger hovering over the trigger he darted inside and swept the flight deck though his gun-sights. There was no sign of either the occupants or the cargo. Returning to the cor
ridor he doubled along the remainder of Delta Section, emerging from the arc of the corridor just in time to see a figure disappear down the stairwell to the deck below.
Chuck and Penny raced down the two flights of stairs to the main hangar deck and dashed along the corridor towards Hangar 4. By the time they reached the door and pushed it open Chuck’s lungs were heaving and his heart was pounding like a sledgehammer. They darted inside and doubled back along the inside of the hangar towards a door at the far end. Dobbs heard the clunk of the hangar door as he made the bottom of the stairwell and set off in hot pursuit.
“Where now?” said Penny.
“Just follow me,” said Chuck. They ran on, through deserted machine shops, the old fuel storage bay and paint shop, all empty save the distinctive smells which still lingered even after years of disuse. The stink of oil and grease in the machine shop, the pungent, acidic odour of fuel cells and the almost intoxicating fumes which still permeated the old paint store. Must remember to mention that to Duke, thought Chuck. Or then again, maybe not.
By the time they exited the paint store Chuck was half sprinting, half trotting, depending on the state of his respiratory system. He’d never run a race with a marine before and even with Penny urging him on, he was surprised to still be ahead. Self preservation in the form of a strong, abiding desire not to get shot was a considerable incentive but the main reason that Dobbs hadn’t caught up with them was the fact that while Chuck and Penny were dashing pell-mell from one compartment to another, Dobbs was obliged to pause at each corner and hatchway to check that the way ahead was clear.
Still fifty meters ahead of Dobbs, Chuck finally reached his chosen destination, a large, heavy duty door set into the bulkhead separating Charlie and Delta Sections. “Archie, I need lights in Charlie Section, main hangar deck,” he said into his data-pad.
“I’m on it,” came the reply. Chuck brought the door panel on-line and the door slid open, the lights in the hangar beyond flickering into life one by one.
The Blunt End of the Service Page 25