by J. N. Chaney
The question was, did this make things better or worse? How desperate would these two bad-asses be if pushed into a corner? What incentive would cause them to go renegade when they had everything they could want in the Union military?
I almost hoped they were part of a larger strike force.
Briggs didn't seem like the type of man who would betray the people he saw as his rightful masters. Crank lacked the imagination to go rogue. So that brought me back to my original conclusion. He had a team tucked away somewhere and they were all Union lackeys.
"We both know you have a squad," I said. "Keeping them in reserve is smart. Especially if you have them positioned for a coup de grace. But now is the time to call them in. We are assaulting a fortified building with well-armed and highly motivated guards."
"You're saying that because you can't do this alone. You need our help," Briggs said. "If you had your way, you would've already stolen the girl and disappeared."
"All true," I said, holding up one finger for him to stand by while I talked to someone else. "Start working on the location of their squad mates, X," I said.
Briggs went pale. Crank made a sound of disgust and muttered swear words under his breath. They reacted differently to my being a Reaper. Crank was more dangerous in the short term. I hadn't forgot our sparring session before Dreadmax. He'd come at me with everything he had. I'd smashed him and damaged his ego. A lot of men would carry a grudge after that.
Briggs was the real danger, however.
He'd hunt me long after this was over for reasons I couldn't explain.
"Do you want to win or play games?" I asked.
Briggs turned away abruptly, consulting someone on his bone-mic radio. "Do you still have eyes on our position?" he asked.
I didn't hear everything he said, but I smiled. It was good to be right.
"Can you tap into their conversation?" I asked X-37.
"Unfortunately, no," X-37 said. "They're using sixteen-digit encryption."
"Can you determine if they are relying on line of sight or using remote surveillance?" I asked.
A few strides away, Crank glared at me. "Stop talking to your AI."
"Limited AI," I said reflexively, echoing all the times X-37 had chastised me on this point.
"Whatever," Crank said.
"I believe the support team is very close," X-37 said. "But not stationary. Possibly in a fast ground vehicle or dropship."
I slipped around a parked vehicle to a better position, hoping to avoid any embarrassing sniper incident. I thought I was making progress with Commander Briggs, but that didn't mean he wouldn't order my death.
"While you're waiting, Reaper Cain, I've done some analysis on the work Tom the mechanic did on your arm," X-37 said.
"Discover anything worthwhile?"
"Certainly, Reaper Cain. Tom's re-calibration of your micro servos have improved efficiency of your arm three percent. I am exceedingly curious to know where he learned his trade," X-37 said. "It may not solve your most recent problems, but a small amount of relief should reduce the load on your neural network, and by proximity, your nerve-ware."
Briggs finished his covert conversation and stepped back. "I'm bringing in the team. Don't get any ideas. I will consider your opinions and evaluate your observations of the assassins' guild headquarters, but these are my people. Keep your hands off of them. My team, my plan."
"No problem," I said. “What’s their ETA? I don’t have all night.”
“My ground element—“
“You mean your sniper team,” I interrupted.
“My ground element will hold an overwatch position until the freighter lands. We will meet them on the tarmac. There is a hangar where we can plan the mission,” Briggs said.
Crank led the way to the landing pad, casually pulling aside a section of fence to gain access to the facility. The place was a step up from the smugglers’ spaceport where I kept the Jellybird, but not by much. Apparently, the FISC planners had wanted to keep their overhead down. There wasn't a security guard or even a fake security sensor array.
"How do they keep people out of this place, X?" I asked.
"They have a very strong company charter," X-37 said.
"What the hell does that mean?" It felt like the right answer. I assumed the main problem was commercial competitors and that they were better handled with contracts in court proceedings. It was a mystery for another day why common criminals didn't break in and rob the place.
The more I saw, the more I realized there was nothing someone could steal without a huge infrastructure and distribution network of their own. It was a great place for the Union to put down spies because there were no customs agents or other regulatory systems.
Briggs motioned for me to go next. I kept an eye on him and his partner. Ambushing me at this point would be pointless—unless there was more to the situation than I realized. In my experience, every situation had a hidden layer—a chance for everything to go horribly wrong.
I didn't think I was paranoid, just prepared to kill everyone I met.
Was that wrong? I didn't think so.
Once we were all inside the perimeter, we moved quietly across the tarmac and waited. A nondescript freighter made a tediously slow descent and touched down. The rest of Briggs's team filed down the ramp.
There were five men and one woman. Two of the men made up the heavy weapons team, one was the primary gunner and a second was a back-up and ammo mule. I wasn't sure what the woman sergeant’s job was, but suspected she was cross-trained as a rifleman and medic.
They looked me over but didn't speak. It was obvious they had encrypted radio comms I didn't have access to. Yet.
"I don't see your sniper team," I said.
"You’ll never see my sniper or his partner," Briggs said.
"Never’s a long time.” I respected snipers. Of all the types of enemies I could face, they were the most dangerous. Memories of what happened to Byron Thane proved my point.
Briggs ordered his team to set up a table inside the hangar. The building was simple, a large open space in the middle with two levels around the edges that contained workshops, offices, and windows to view the outside areas.
Crank pulled the door down and slid a crossbar through the latch.
"David, Holmes, set up security. No one in or out,” Briggs said.
The two soldiers went to opposite corners and stationed themselves on upper levels near windows with a commanding view of the tarmac and the access road to the building.
Briggs faced me, leaning on the table as though ready to get down to business. "Corporal David and Lance Corporal Holmes are good men. Your Reaper friend won't be able to get by us if that's what you're worried about."
"He doesn't have a reason to attack us here," I said. "So I'm not worried about it."
"Good," Briggs said, waving his team closer to the table. He moved a collection of tools around to represent buildings, intersections, and vehicles. "Gunnery Sergeant Samantha Bane is my second in command, an order from her can be considered an order for me. If I go down, she's in charge regardless of rank."
"Zero fucks given," I said, causing Crank to swear.
X-37 whispered in my ear, "This is actually very relevant information. I had assumed Sergeant Crank was his second."
I didn't want to respond verbally, but I had assumed differently. Crank wasn't leadership material, he was a heavy—a bone breaker and enforcer, someone who could force open doors with various tools.
"You can drop the act here," Briggs said. "We're professionals. If I tell my team to work with you despite your past, then they will."
I looked over each member of his squad. "I believe you."
For a second, I thought the man would throw my ‘zero fucks given’ comment back at me. He restrained himself and continued the briefing.
He lined up a series of wrenches to indicate his personnel. "Bane, Crank, Orlando, Jonji, Galen, David, and Holmes. Orlando and Jonji are my heavy gun team. Orlan
do carries the squad automatic weapon."
"And I'm his ammo bitch," Jonji said.
No one laughed, but I liked the guy already. If he was intimidated by my Reaper hardware, it didn't show.
"What about your sniper team, who are they?"
"You can call them sniper one and sniper two," Briggs said. "Now we construct what you know about the assassins' guild headquarters so we can plan this mission."
"Are you also trained as a medic?" I asked Gunnery Sergeant Samantha Bane.
She narrowed her gaze. "How did you know that? My file is as secret as everyone else's on this unit. Your limited Reaper AI shouldn't be able to touch it."
"Just a guess," I said. "Your tactical first-aid kit is better positioned for quick use on your gear. Take Crank, for example. I'm sure he can reach his medical gear, but I'd bet money it's been a while since he actually did."
"I told you to keep your hands off my team," Briggs said. "Let's get started."
I nodded, then stepped forward and scanned the planning board we treated more carefully. X-37 copied it and placed a wireframe version in my HUD where he manipulated elements such as personnel movements and expected defenses.
While Briggs and his team were pushing around tools and machine parts as map icons, I was getting detailed variations on the scene in three dimensions with annotated timelines we could expect.
X-37 and I kept it on the down low, with me talking to the limited AI as little as possible.
Briggs touched his ear, then adjusted the receiver box on his armor. "Hold on, I'm putting you on speaker. Okay, go."
"I've got one pedestrian approaching from the south. Looks civilian. No weapon seen. Unknown intent. Subject looks to be in his 50s or 60s and dressed like a factory worker. I'm no fashion expert, but I'd say that jumpsuit he's wearing is his only outfit,” said the voice of Corporal Holmes.
"Anyone you know?" Briggs asked me.
"Can he send video?"
Briggs removed a panel from his armor and put it on the table. He touched the screen and a grainy image popped into view.
Tom walked hurriedly toward the industrial quarter. If I didn't know better, I'd almost assume he was a maintenance man for FISC.
"Well?"
My instinct was to offer complete denial and feign ignorance, but I had to admit there was a chance Briggs’ sniper team had seen more of my movements than I realized. Getting caught in a lie when I needed these people to trust me wouldn't be helpful.
"I've seen him a few times. I think he's a homeless machinist or something," I admitted like it didn't matter.
"What's he doing here?" Briggs asked.
I shrugged. "Going to work? Union taxes ain't free. Someone's got to pay your salary."
"Bane, Crank, check him out while our Reaper finishes explaining the layout of the target building," Briggs said.
I complied, watching this scene unfold through video surveillance of Corporal Holmes. Gunny Bane and Sergeant Crank intercepted Tom, rousted him for information after a search for weapons, and sent him on his way.
I moved one of the wrenches closer to the box that represented the building we would be assaulting. "The approach shouldn't be a problem. We can have an overwatch here and here, covering the opposing corners. I'd like to take everyone inside but keeping a perimeter could be important if they tried to move the principal."
"David and Holmes will handle that. They’re my most junior operators and they're good at that sort of thing," Briggs said without sounding arrogant or condescending when he assigned them in their minor role. "I'll fill them in after the briefing."
27
I allowed Briggs and his team to clear the area without my help. X-37 kept track of their movements and how long it took them to secure the zone around the entrance to the assassins' guild headquarters.
"Fifteen minutes, twenty-seven seconds," X-37 said.
"Not bad for an entire city block," I said, keeping my eye on Briggs and Crank, who had a position slightly offset from my own.
"Agreed," X-37 said. “However, he did not clear the interior of many of the buildings."
"Shouldn't be a problem," I said. "The issue is going to be getting inside, then finding Elise."
"Commander Briggs has an excellent team of commandos. I find their records disturbingly hard to penetrate, but direct observational data suggests they know what they're doing. Your real problem, in addition to those you've listed, will be Reaper Thane.”
“You're not wrong," I muttered, my eyes focused on the narrow building between two larger buildings.
"When have I ever been wrong?" X-37 asked.
"We're going to play that game?" I was distracted with an idea that seemed almost too obvious.
"It is not a game," X-37 said. "I have, in fact, never been wrong, only misinformed. Had sufficient data been supplied during the rare instances I made a mistake, I would have functioned adequately."
"That's basically the same excuse I use," I told him.
"Truthfully?" X-37 asked. "I will add that to my data collection for future analysis."
"It wasn't actually a compliment," I said. "How thick are the walls between our target building and its neighbors?"
"Excellent question, Reaper Cain," X-37 said. "Your perception of the exterior of our target is false. The two neighboring buildings are part of the assassins’ guild fortress. The narrow ‘building front’ is merely a façade."
"Well, things just got a lot easier," I said, motioning Briggs to approach for a conference.
"Not necessarily," X-37 said. "While they may be accessed through one of the neighboring buildings, there will be heavy resistance. Those buildings have large open spaces with mechanical stairways and deep balconies. The effect is aesthetically pleasing; however, it is also purpose built as a battlefield."
"Keep talking," I said to X-37 while holding up a hand for Briggs to hold on a moment.
He waited on the knife edge of patience and annoyance.
"Much of what I am sending you on your HUD is an extrapolation of what I believe the interior to look like. I was able, for example, to locate work receipts from the original construction site. The manifest suggests there is a series of mechanical stairways, or escalators, and also some fountains. But I cannot tell you their exact position," X-37 said.
"What do you think about the neighboring buildings?" I asked Briggs.
He looked across the wide boulevard at our target. "I think there's a decent chance they're owned by the assassins' guild. Can your Reaper AI determine how thick the walls are between the structures?"
"Limited AI," I corrected.
"Of course. I stand corrected," Briggs said sarcastically.
"That entire city block is owned or controlled by the assassins’ guild. The foyers of the neighboring buildings seem to have been designed with aesthetics and defense in mind." I studied the outcroppings and street-facing sections of the larger buildings. "From what X tells me, the flanking buildings have overlapping fields of fire on the front door I was taken through initially. It's not a public entrance, but anyone seeking a contract will eventually learn where it is and approach this way. Which means it has to be defensible."
Briggs waited, not interrupting me. I saw this as a mark of a good leader. He was still an asshole in my book, but it could be worse.
"If we try to go in the same way I went the first time, we will probably be mowed down by gun turrets," I said.
"I don't see anything like that," Briggs said.
I pointed toward glass walls angled toward the smaller building between them. The owners of the smaller, older building had refused to be redeveloped, forcing the new structures to grow around them.
"They’re behind those walls, probably disguised as some sort of decorative feature. When they open fire, the blown-out glass will cut anybody making an assault on the guild to pieces," I said.
Briggs nodded. "It's obvious once you look at it the right way."
"There isn't a good alternative, giv
en our time limitations. You can still use our plan with a few small adjustments. Order your team to advance on the east building, enter as though they are regular citizens, but stay ready to fight because there won't be much finesse in this assault."
"I'll make some adjustments to the plan," Briggs agreed, then rejoined Crank near their observation post. They stood near a park bench pretending to smoke, which I thought was the first amateur thing they’d done. It was clear neither of them knew one end of a cigarette from the other.
Some time passed.
"I would really like to hear their communications," I said to X-37.
"It's not my fault that Commander Briggs refused this option. Given sufficient time, and with the right systems, we could break their encryption."
"Looks like the mission is a go," I said, watching Briggs nod at his team members converging on the east building front door.
They wore trench coats and other types of civilian clothes designed to conceal their weapons and armor. It wasn't a ruse that would hold for a long time, but we only needed a minute to begin the assault.
I stepped off the curb and walked toward the east building.
The Union spec ops team slowly converged, not walking together exactly, but close enough they could transform into a fighting unit in seconds.
Crank went through the front door, followed by the others. He immediately veered off. Much of this foyer was glass, allowing a partial view from the street. The morning sun turned much of the building into an orange mirror, but when I got close, I could see what was happening.
The interior walls, I guessed, were concrete-reinforced steel made to look like cheap office building walls.
I saw three escalators twisting up to the second level, where there was a balcony type concourse. I also spotted an elevator bank with two well-armed guards. They wore tactical armor and carried short rifles, which was apparently acceptable to the patrons of the complex.
"I wonder how many of the bystanders know they are working in the hub of the Zag City criminal underground," I said, suddenly curious.
"I would guess less than ten percent," X-37 said.
"This is going to be messy as fuck," I predicted, walking in after Briggs's team, but before the snipers who had come in from their posts with close-quarters weapons instead of long rifles. I still didn't know their names, but they looked serious and experienced.