Stars in the Sand

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Stars in the Sand Page 22

by Richard Tongue


   “Captain...thank you.”

   “Thank Cooper. This was all his crazy idea.”

   Orlova was concentrating on the road. The pavements were filled with people, bystanders watching as the van screamed down the street at its top speed. Glancing at the rear camera, someone was already pursuing them, but they were keeping their distance. The last thing the security forces would want was a crash in the heart of the dome.

   The communicator crackled again, and the voice said, “You can’t escape. All the airlocks are sealed. This is over. Surrender and you will be treated leniently, or we will have no choice but to use deadly force.”

   Orlova ignored him, and continued to speed down the streets. Up ahead, some CorpSec guards were trying to set up a roadblock, but she drove through them, one of them only just jumping out of the way in time. She turned down a side road, lining up on her target airlock, then pulled out her communicator. Up ahead, more guards were assembled, lining guns on the cab, standing in front of the sealed airlock, and she slowed to a crawl.

   “Cooper!” she yelled into the communicator, “Punch it!”

   A shattering blast shot through the doors, tearing the metal and sending it crashing open, the blast wave knocking the guards to the ground. Cooper and Cantrell, a few seconds later, raced through the ruined airlock, snatching guns from the bodies as they went; Orlova opened a side door to let them in, then stamped down on the accelerator again, the van rocking around as it traversed the debris.

   Behind them, just as they passed through, another explosion ripped at the wall, and the blast doors slid shut to isolate the dome from the outside atmosphere. Now they were racing through the Smoke, and this time, the people were cheering. Someone striking a blow against the Cabal seemed to be exactly what they wanted to see.

   “Good work, Cooper,” Marshall said; the troopers in the rear compartment were clapping him on the shoulder and beginning to sing, and he had to shout to make himself heard.

   “Thanks, skipper, but the fun hasn’t ended yet!”

   Turning to Orlova, he said, “Any sign of pursuit?”

   “Won’t be any from the dome, we’ve given ourselves enough of a head-start to get clear, but…,” she looked up, and frowned, “that still leaves their helicopters.”

   The van flew out of the city limits, tearing down the road towards the mountains. Seven miles for them to reach the shuttle, down a long, narrow track that would be ideal for target practice. There were two helicopters following them, gaining awfully quickly, missiles slung to their sides.

   “I’m running countermeasures,” Cantrell said. “Don’t worry about the missiles, worry about the machine guns!”

   “Spaceman, how the hell…”

   “It’s a long story, Captain,” Cooper said, as a staccato rattle raced down the road to one side of them. A missile fired, and immediately slammed into the ground; it seemed that Cantrell was keeping them clear of those, and the van ducked into the mountains, running along a canyon, the helicopters flying overhead.

   The van skidded on puddles of oil, black rivulets running down onto the road from the peaks, another burst of gunfire just ahead of them forcing Orlova to take quick evasive action, almost spinning out onto the road. She wasn’t sure how armor-plated these vehicles were, but she didn’t want to find that out the hard way.

   Another missile, but this one went even wilder, slamming into the top of one of the mountains. It took a few seconds for her to realize how disastrous that miss had been, as rocks began to roll down the slope, gathering speed; the side of the canyon was about to collapse. Frantically, on instinct alone, she slammed her foot down harder, sending the van careening wildly down the road, all her thoughts focused on nothing but raw speed as she desperately attempted to win ground on her natural enemy; the helicopters were moving away, heading out of the way, perhaps thinking that their work was done.

  Rocks clattered off the side of the van, sending it whirling around on the road, almost toppling over as she desperately twisted around, trying to keep it level. Clouds of dust smothered the landscape, and she was driving blindly, hoping that she wasn’t about to send the van careening into the wall.

  Finally, she was through, but waiting for her, hovering overhead, were the helicopters, their guns pointed at the only way she could go. Desperately, she zig-zagged around, trying to get past them, but then another missile fired, ranging directly towards them, only a few seconds from impact.

  At the last heartbeat, it veered up, turning back towards the helicopter and slamming into it, the explosion enveloping the craft, showering debris around. The other helicopter, battered and damaged, dived to make another attack run, the machine gun rattling again, and this time it found a target, ripping into the tires, sending the van to a screeching halt.

   “Damn!” Orlova said, shaking her head. “End of the line, sir.”

   Turning back at the devastation behind them, the helicopter struggling to get over the hill, he replied, “I don’t think we’re going to have anyone chasing us any time soon.” He looked at his watch, then said, “We’ve got seventeen minutes left in our window. Nine of which we’ll need to make orbit.”

   “Less than a mile, sir. We’re just going to have to walk.” She tugged on her respirator and activated the side hatches, the squad climbing out behind her as she began to jog towards the landing strip. She could just see the lights ahead of her, just began to think they were going to make it, when she heard another whirling noise overhead, and looked up to see four helicopters, larger than the rest, dropping lines – and troops beginning to slide down it.

   As the gunfire started again, she yelled, “Take cover!”, and followed her own advice, sliding in behind a rock. Her pistol in her hand, she took a wild shot at a nearby trooper, but it went far to wide. An attempt to move only resulted in a pair of cracks ripping at the ground behind her.

   “We’re pinned down!” she yelled, and glanced over at the shuttle, then down at her watch. Eight minutes and counting.

  Chapter 29

   Cooper climbed out of the ATV, the last man through the door, hefting his rifle. The clip was full, but there would be no replacement when it ran out, so he gave up any thought of trying automatic fire, setting it to single shot. Most of the group was well ahead of him, hiding behind cover; only Cantrell was still by his side, just ahead of him.

   It looked as if there were at least fifty troopers heading for them, and as far as he knew, only four of his group was armed. He smiled, realizing that even if he managed to get one trooper with each bullet, he’d run out with a dozen left. Making each shot tell was going to be vital for him today.

   He got a good start, knocking one down who was attempting to head around behind Orlova, exposed at the head of the column. A tall, gruff figure – a very familiar one – leapt back from cover to cover, taking fire and allowing him a chance to get another clear shot. He ran forward to duck behind Forrest’s position, a large, recently disturbed boulder.

   “I’m guessing this wasn’t part of the plan, Corporal.”

   “I’d say not, Sarge,” he replied, passing him his pistol. “Looks like they’re moving to surround us.”

   “Any chance of reinforcement?” Forrest asked as Cantrell fired another round, hitting one of the troopers in the shoulder.

   “None. This is all we got.”

   The helicopters moved away, their cargo delivered, and it occurred to Cooper that they still had one thing working in their favor – they evidently had not worked out where they were going, which meant that the shuttle was still clear. The troopers were moving into clumps, now, and were staying low into cover themselves; only the occasional shot was ringing out.

   “They’ve got all the advantages,” Forrest said. “All they need to do is wait for us to run out of ammo, and we’ve had it.”

   “Worse than that,” Cooper replied. “We’ve got seven minutes to get to the shuttle and away f
rom this rock, or we’re staying here.” He raised his communicator to his head, “Cooper to Marshall.”

   “I’m here, Corporal.”

   “We’re stuck here, sir. I don’t see any way of getting away with this.”

   “Cooper, my communicator’s been damaged. I don’t think I can raise the shuttle.”

   He paused, then said, “You want me to order her back to Ouroboros.”

   Another crack flew overhead, the troopers doing their best to keep them all pinned down, and Cooper pressed further down into the ground, trying to hold on.

   “I don’t think there’s another option, Corporal. Do you agree?”

   Looking around at the faces of the people he had rescued, their faces masks of determination, he nodded, then said, “I do, sir. Suggest we surrender after the shuttle has reached Ouroboros. No point prolonging this further.”

   “Damn,” Forrest said. “It was so damn close. Thanks for trying, Cooper.”

   “I just wish it had been worth it,” he replied. “Cooper to Bradley. You read me?”

   “Loud and clear,” she said. “What’s the news.”

   “Abort. We’re aborting the mission. Get back to Ouroboros.”

   “Where are you? I saw the helicopters, and I’ve heard the shooting.”

   “We’re pinned down about three-quarters of a mile south-west of you, outnumbered and out-gunned. It’s only a matter of time before they work out you are part of this, so the Captain’s ordering you back to the freighter. Get out of here.”

   “There has to be another option,” she replied.

   A rattle of automatic fire flew overhead, and Cooper hugged down to the ground, peeking up with his rifle and taking a couple of shots to try and pin down the target; they looked to be setting up a machine gun, but another well-aimed shot sent them running.

   “You’re wasting time, Barbara! Launch!”

   “I’m not giving up this easily. I’ve got a satellite map of your area, I see a flat patch maybe fifty meters away. You’d have a chance of making that.”

   “You’ll never get down, they’ll have all the time in the world to shoot you out of the sky.” He could see some of the troopers carrying missiles on their backs, evidently just waiting for their expected pick-up to arrive, and he didn’t want to make Barbara their target.

   “That’s where you come in. I’ll be down on the deck in about two minutes. You’ve got to hold them up long enough for me to make my descent.”

   “Smoke and clouds everywhere…”

   “Then I’ll land blind, damn it! Just let me have my shot!”

   “Damn it, Barbara, I love you. Cooper out.”

   He closed the channel before she could reply, and glanced up at the smirking Forrest. Cantrell raced up to his side, firing a trio of shots to give herself covering fire. The enemy was now switching to just pinning them down, not actually attacking them.

   “I think they want us alive,” she said. “What’s the plan?”

   Pulling his communicator up so Marshall could hear, he said, “Shuttle’s coming in to pick us up. We’ve got to set up a detour to give her a chance to come in clean. Their missile troopers are over to the west, so that’s where we’re going.”

   “Give me your rifle, Cooper,” Forrest said.

   Shaking his head, he replied, “Not a chance, Sarge.”

   “Cooper, you’ve done enough.”

   “That’s true when you get back on the deck of Alamo, Sarge, and not until then!”

   Forrest looked at Cantrell, then said, “Fine. Spaceman?”

   “I go where Cooper goes. Despite his professions of undying love to his girlfriend. On three, Gabe?”

   “Cooper,” Marshall’s voice said, “Watch yourself.”

   “You’ll be nearest to the shuttle, sir. She’ll need all the landing guidance you can give her.”

   “I'll do that, Corporal.”

   “Thanks, sir.”

   “Good luck.”

   He could hear the roar of the shuttle engines from the spaceport, make out its shape moving through the clouds of dust, and then looked over at the troopers readying their missiles. If they were going to pull this off, the time was now, and he turned to Cantrell.

   “Three, two, one, now!”

   Throwing caution to the wind, he jumped out of cover and started to sprint towards the cluster of troopers, firing as he went, scattering them around. Cantrell, just behind him, was more accurate than he, taking two of them down with well-placed shots. She skidded short, snatching up a dropped missile, and aimed it vaguely in the right direction before pulling the trigger.

   Cooper felt the heat on his back as the warhead flew over his shoulder, and rolled down to the right just in time to protect himself from the resultant explosion, a column of smoke rising from the emplacement, a group of tangled bodies spread around the landscape. A second explosion rocked him back to the ground, another of the warheads firing, and a brief cheer rose up as the enemy troopers began to fall back and regroup.

   Far too one side, the shuttle was landing, and Cooper realized that he was in the ideal position to provide them with covering fire as his people moved towards it, racing from cover to cover with more shots cracking all around them. A body near him yielded another clip, and he snatched it up, stuffing it into his pocket, before opening up on the troopers ahead of him.

   Cantrell was having the same idea, and she ran forward a few paces to get into cover, taking shots. Through all the haze and the smoke, it was impossible to see if they were hitting anything, but they were certainly attracting some attention, more bullets flying their way. The shuttle doors open, and the first figure – Riley, he thought, stumbled inside, hands grabbing her and snatching her in. He saw one of the fleeing troopers fall, Orlova hit in the arm; Marshall picked her up, half-carrying, half-dragging her to safety.

   “Time to get out of here, Cantrell,” Cooper said. “Get to the shuttle. I’ll cover you.”

   “Like hell,” she said. “If you get shot, we’re finished.”

   “Damn it, do was you are ordered!”

   “You’re forgetting, I outrank you.”

   Marshall was on board the shuttle now, and Orlova, and the rest of the Espatiers were close on their heels. More shots rang out, and Cooper stopped another attempt to get a machine gun nest set-up with a quick squeeze of the trigger on semi-automatic, pausing for a second to slam in a replacement clip.

   Another series of shots took down a pair of enemy troopers trying to flank the fleeing squad, and he spread his attentions far and wide, desperately trying to distract the enemy forces, give them something to think about other than taking down the Espatiers. First one, then three more climbed onto the shuttle, Forrest having to be dragged on board, turning to try and race back out to the battlefield.

   “Cooper, this is Marshall. We’re on board, now it’s your turn. Get to the shuttle, we’ve only got a couple of minutes!”

   He looked around, and saw the last of his friends, his comrades, getting through. Turning to Cantrell, he said, “Now, time to go. You go half-way, I’ll cover, then we’ll swap. Ready?”

   “As I’ll ever be,” she said, sprinting desperately for the shuttle as gunfire cracked all around her. She didn’t get twenty yards before having to take cover again, the weight of gunfire too much for her, and Cooper braced himself to take a run, only to see another machine gun over to the right, turning towards the shuttle.

   Instead of running towards safety, he ran to the machine gun, gambling that he could get to it before they could set it up; behind him, another trooper was getting a missile set up, and he had to stop it if they were going to have a chance. A voice echoed over his communicator, but he ignored it, filtering it out. Someone was trying to give him orders that, for all their sakes, he couldn’t afford to obey.

   His feet ate up the ground, and he got close enough to take a
desperate pair of shots at the duo manning the gun, both of whom fell down to the ground, blood spilling from their chests. Ignoring them, he settled in behind the gun, just about ready to fire, and started to take shots, bursts of flame erupting from the barrel, bullets racing across the battlefield to rip the missile trooper to shreds.

   “Get out of there!” the communicator yelled. “We’ve got thirty seconds!”

   He felt sorriest for Cantrell. She was still pinned down in the middle of the battlefield, no way to reach the shuttle, and he wasn’t going to be able to get her out. He reached down for his communicator, pulling at the trigger with his hand, and held it calmly to his mouth.

   “Shuttle, launch. I can’t get to you without being full of holes, and neither can Cantrell. I think this is as far as we go.”

   “Cooper!” Marshall yelled. “I’ll wait. Get moving.”

   “You’re already close to missing the window,” he replied, “so get out of here.”

   “Damn it, Cooper. Good luck.”

   Pulling herself to her feet, Cantrell sprinted across to join Cooper, watching as the shuttle airlock slammed shut, and the vertical jets fired. He watched as the clouds of dust rose again, a thin smile on his face as his comrades began their long journey home. That he wouldn’t be joining them didn’t seem to matter.

   “We’ve got to get moving,” Cantrell said. “We need to clear the battlefield. As soon as they realize what happened, they’ll move in on us.”

   “I was planning to surrender,” Cooper replied.

   “You might have given up on getting home, but I haven’t! Never say die. Now let’s get moving.”

   “Where?”

   “We’ll worry about that later. Come on.”

   Firing another burst from the machine gun as a parting present, Cooper followed Cantrell as she sprinted up the slopes towards the mountain, heading for the ravines and outcrops. From somewhere, she’d found a grenade, and she tossed it behind them, sending another cloud of smoke into the air to add to the confusion. There was a loud bang from above, a sonic boom as the shuttle headed back for Ouroboros, and a smile crossed his face.

 

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