Ephialtes (Ephialtes Trilogy Book 1)

by Parker, Gavin E

  “You know, it’s been quite a day,” he said. “I got the intelligence briefing this morning. I guess that’s what you’re here to talk about.”

  “It is, Mr President.”

  “I thought so. You know, this job never ends. It’s just one damn thing after another.”

  “I guess so, Mr President. I guess that’s what our jobs are; dealing with issues, one after another.”

  Cortes chuckled. “Well, that’s true enough,” he said. He turned in the chair and stood up. As he walked over to Andrews he asked the question she had been preparing for all week. “What have you got for me, Audrey?” he said.

  “Well, sir,” Audrey replied, “I’ve spoken to Helios. They can refit the Aloadae for interplanetary flight. They have experimental nuclear fusion engines they can use. We can have the Aloadae in orbit around Mars within six months if we need it.”

  Cortes nodded, impressed. “I guess that wouldn’t be cheap,” he said.

  “Well,” said Andrews, “not financially, of course not. But it might be cheaper than losing a planet.”

  Cortes thought for a moment. “They can really do that? In six months?”

  “They’ve assured me they can,” said Andrews, “and I’ve no reason to disbelieve them.”

  Cortes paced. “How would that look, politically? Is it overkill?”

  “Not at all,” said Andrews. “We have these ships, more-or-less redundant now over Earth. Think how powerful we look if we can send them to Mars. Not just to the Martians but to the Asian Bloc, the non-aligned countries, even to our own country. It would be a great demonstration of our power. Reassuring to those at home and impressive and intimidating to those abroad.”

  Cortes stopped pacing. “What do you need from me?”

  “I just need the executive order authorising the expenditure. You still have the elevated powers from the war. If you want to go ahead, let me know now and I’ll tell Helios to proceed immediately.”

  “How much will this cost again?”

  “I sent you the costings. It’s a lot, but we can afford it.”

  Cortes paused. “Okay. Go ahead. The bigger the stick the less likely you’ll need to use it, right? That’s the principle we’re following here, isn’t it?”

  “Of course, Mr President. We’ll stop this thing before it’s started.”

  “I like that,” said Cortes. “The last thing we need right now is another war.”

  C H A P T E R 8

  Recruitment

  “Is this a secure line?” White barked at one of his security team.

  “Yes, sir. For all practical purposes it’s undecryptable.”

  “Good,” said White. “What about records? I don’t want this call to have existed.”

  “We have an AI to wipe all records as soon as the call has ended, Mr Vice President,” the security woman replied.

  “Okay,” said White. “Can I have a few minutes privacy?” He made a gesture ushering the security woman and some other assistants out of the room. When the large oak doors clunked shut he spoke into the phone.

  “Sherman, is that you?”

  “It’s me, Mr Vice President,” came the reply.

  “Good,” said White, “I hate to call you but I can assure you this line is one hundred percent secure. All records of this conversation will be wiped the moment the conversation is over.”

  “I understand, Mr Vice President.”

  “Listen,” said White, “they’re putting together a squad of commanders to send to Mars, if you can believe that. The goddamned president has just finished one war and it looks like he’s hell-bent on starting another. We can’t let that happen. The two carriers, the Aloadae, are being fitted to go off to Mars. We need one of ours to be going with them. Is that something you can do?”

  The voice on the end of the line paused. “Yes, Mr Vice President, I think that’s something we can do.”

  White didn’t quite believe him. Sherman had fingers in many pies but getting an agent aboard a military ship filled with handpicked commanders seemed way too big of an ask, even for him. He had no choice but to go along with it.

  “That’s great. Can you get on to that as a matter of the utmost emergency? They’re putting this team together now and we need to be right on top of it.”

  “I’ll do what I can.”

  “I’ll meet you in a few days at the burger joint. You can fill me in.”

  “Can I speak frankly?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Are you crossing a line here?”

  “Crossing a line? Hell, I’m trying to pull everything back over the line. This country is the finest there has ever been on the face of this planet. When was the last time we had elections? Too long ago. The war’s over now, at least the last war, and the people have a right to elections. That’s the least we owe them. I’m scared for this country, Sherman. I’m scared of what it’s becoming. We can pull it back from the brink if we act now, but if we don’t who the hell knows where we’ll be in six months’ time.”

  “I understand, Mr Vice President. I’ll get it done. Maybe in the future they’ll give us medals for this.”

  “In the future, maybe,” said White. “For now they could send us to the gallows for treason. Don’t forget that.”

  “I’ll try not to, Mr Vice President.”

  Steiner was on his fifth beer of the evening when the call came through on his comdev. At first he was going to ignore it. The bar was rough, just how he liked it, but it was dull and he decided a call from Captain Soward may lend the evening some much-needed excitement.

  Steiner was at the bar on his own. The place was a dive, with servicemembers and hangers on lolling about the place like underwear strewn around an unkempt bedroom. There were sports showing on TV in the corner but Steiner wasn’t interested. A couple of people, one of them a reasonably good-looking woman, had tried to spark up conversations with him earlier, but he wasn’t in the mood for talking. His plan for the evening, so far as he had a plan, was to keep on drinking then go back to the barracks to sleep it off. Maybe he’d stop by and pick up some Chinese food. He wasn’t fussed. He was slowly and quietly drinking himself into a stupor when he felt the comdev buzz in his pocket. Initially he looked at the screen and, seeing it was Soward, put the device back in his pocket. When it rang the second time he gave in and answered.

  “Steiner, is that you?” said the voice at the other end of the line.

  “It’s me, Captain,” said Steiner, laconically.

  “Good to hear you Steiner,” said Soward. “Everything good with you?”

  “I’m good here,” said Steiner.

  “Good, good, that’s good to know. Listen, something’s come up, and we need some guys like you for a special mission. What do you say Steiner, are you in?”

  The four beers had dulled Steiner’s senses enough that he took a second to process the information.

  “What is it?” he said.

  “I can’t say at the moment, but it’s classified, it’s big and you’ll want in.”

  Steiner took a swig from his beer. “Sounds interesting,” he said. “What is it again?”

  “Well, Steiner, you understand I can’t go into details here, but I’ve been asked to put together a team of the best guys I’ve worked with, and your name was at the top of the list. I’ll be calling some of the other guys but I want you, Foley and Johnson. This has come down from the very top. Listen, where are you?”

  Steiner looked around the bar. “I’m in a very exclusive nightclub,” he said. “It’s members only, and I’m in the VIP lounge.”

  “That’s great, Steiner,” said Soward, “but where is it?”

  “I’m at Joe’s Bar,” Steiner conceded.

  “You are? That’s great, I’m at The Ranch, it’s only five minutes away. Come over.”

  Steiner glanced at the empty seats either side of him. “I’m kind of in the middle of something here,” he said. “It might take me a while to wrap this up.”


  “Get over here Steiner, you bum,” said Soward. “You’re drinking alone and looking for trouble. I know you. That’s why I want you on my team. Get your ass in a cab and get over here.”

  Stepping out into the cold night air reinvigorated Steiner somewhat. The cab was already waiting for him and he stepped inside. In the short journey to The Ranch he thought about the old days with Soward. They had had many crazy adventures during the war, both on and off the battlefield. They had never quite seen eye to eye but Steiner held a grudging respect for Soward, as Soward did for him.

  Steiner entered The Ranch through a side exit. He scanned the blue neon-lit interior looking for Soward, but he couldn’t see him. He needed to go to the bar first anyway so he headed off in that direction. He ordered his drink and turned to look back into the room. He scanned again and this time spotted Soward. He was sat in a booth off to Steiner’s right, alone. Steiner collected his drink and walked across to the booth. He sat down, nodding at Soward. “Captain,” he said.

  “Thanks for coming,” said Soward.

  “Didn’t feel like I had much of a choice,” replied Steiner.

  “Everyone always has a choice,” said Soward, grinning. Steiner grinned too, though he didn’t really get the joke.

  Soward had a medium build with very broad shoulders and a well-weathered face. He looked like he had been left outside for a few years. He was one of the few men Steiner had ever seen who wore a moustache. Soward was big on military history. He’d seen pictures of soldiers from the past sporting huge moustaches and decided it was a good look. It wasn’t, but who was going to tell him? He was military through and through and carried with him an implied threat wherever he went.

  “So what’s the job?” said Steiner.

  “Well,” said Soward, “like I said already, I can’t really talk about it in detail. Now we’re off the com I guess I can tell you a little bit more.”

  Steiner couldn’t help but look intrigued. “Go on,” he said.

  Soward had a beer clasped in his hands on the table in front of him. He stared intently at the beer as he spoke. “There’s some stuff going on at the moment, secret top-level stuff, and the brass are worried that something is going to go down if we are not there to provide a show of strength. You know the Aloadae?”

  “Of course,” said Steiner.

  “Well, we’ll be working off them.”

  Steiner’s ears pricked up at that. The Aloadae were the absolute pinnacle of the military, the most fearsome, most modern military implements in existence. Soward saw the subtle change in Steiner’s attitude. “I thought that might interest you,” he said. “We’ll be training for a special mission, very hush-hush and happening soon. I have dispensation to pull you out of your current unit. I can have you on the bus tomorrow morning if you want in. What do you say?”

  Steiner affected to be thinking it over. In fact, he was sold the moment Soward said Aloadae. “I need some time to think about it,” he said.

  “Bullshit,” replied Soward.

  Steiner grinned. “That’s why I always liked you as a captain. That intuitive bond we have, the way we both know what the other’s thinking, so we don’t have to waste time talking aloud. Like players on a great football team, or something.”

  “Screw you,” said Soward. “I know what you’re thinking because you’re such a simple-minded, predictable son of a bitch. You only wish you knew what I was thinking.”

  Steiner laughed. “Okay,” he said. “Sign me up.”

  Steiner didn’t finish the rest of the evening as he had planned. He didn’t go back to Joe’s Bar and drink himself into a stupor. After he finished with Soward (just one more drink each, and some catching up and talking over the old days) he had gone straight back to the barracks. He found Johnson and Foley there, both excited and conspiratorial. They looked at him suspiciously. “Did you get a call from Soward?” said Johnson.

  “I did not,” Steiner lied. “Why, did you?”

  Johnson shot a glance at Foley. He didn’t quite know what to do. “Ah,” he said, “no?” It was much more of a question than a statement. Foley’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinised Steiner’s face. He figured out what was going on, as ever one step ahead of the reliable but not so quick-witted Johnson.

  “I didn’t get one either,” said Foley. “In the one I didn’t get the captain made me a really interesting proposition. How about you, Steiner?”

  “Me too. In fact, in the one I didn’t get, I wasn’t invited to a personal audience with the great man, and he didn’t spell out that we might be taking a trip . . .” He pointed skyward, and grinned.

  “Son of a bitch,” said Johnson, “you did get a call. Damn, we all got one too,” he said, somewhat redundantly. “He didn’t say nothing about no . . .” Johnson awkwardly made the pointing upward gesture.

  “Well, that’s the benefit of being the captain’s favourite,” said Steiner, laughing. He hopped up on his bunk.

  “So we’re leaving tomorrow,” said Johnson. “All of us?”

  “Looks that way,” added Foley.

  “Looks that way,” echoed Steiner.

  “Damn,” said Johnson, mostly to himself. He scratched his head and wandered off to his bunk.

  Steiner, Foley, Johnson and a number of others from their company rose early next morning before reveille and walked across the hard tarmac of the drill square to the transport depot. There, as promised, were two coaches. The men boarded in silence and were whisked away from the compound before sunrise.

  Four hours later they arrived at another compound. This one was smaller, but had the same no-nonsense practicality. They were herded off the coaches and led to a large red brick building. They went down a series of dimly lit corridors, finally arriving at what appeared to be a large lecture theatre. They took their seats and, presently, Captains Soward and Connor took to the stage.

  “Settle down people,” Connor said with a quick hand gesture. He stood to the side fiddling with his comdev while Soward took centre stage. Soward cut straight to it.

  “People, you all signed up to serve your country and most of you here have already served it on the field of battle. Well, your country has more to ask of you. You’ve all been handpicked for this mission as you are highly trained, battle hardened combat veterans, and for this mission we need the very best. Myself or Captain Connor have spoken to all of you in the last forty-eight hours, and as part of the high level of security around this assignment we were unable to give you the full details of what the mission entails. Well, now you’re all here we can be a bit more forthcoming about the task we have at hand.” He fiddled with his comdev and the screen behind him lit up with the image of one of the Aloadae.

  “First thing you’ll need to know,” he said, “is that we’ll be operating out of one of these.” A ripple of excitement ran around the room. “Now, the fighting personnel currently stationed on these two ships have been highly trained for just that duty, but they have no combat experience. For this mission they can’t afford to be sending greenhorns and that’s why they’re sending us.”

  Johnson elbowed Foley in the ribs. “It’s China,” he whispered. “They’re sending us to goddamned China!”

  Soward continued. “But as experienced as we are in the art of war, even we may not be fully prepared for the theatre in which we will be expected to operate.” He let that sink in. “People, there is currently a diplomatic crisis brewing with our colony on Mars.” That shot around the room like electricity, a low fast mumble of conversation audible from the stage.

  “Quiet, you people,” barked Connor. Soward grinned. He knew now he had the undivided attention of his audience.

  “It’s anticipated that this crisis will develop over the coming months and that we will be needed to lend emphasis to the ongoing diplomatic efforts of the USAN. As you know, for any threat to be effective it has to be plausible, achievable and credible. For us to meet those criteria we will train for a number of scenarios on the Martian surface, an
d from and in orbit around Mars.” The room was silent. “At this stage we don’t anticipate this will come down to an actual fighting war but, by God, we will train for it as if we know it’s going to happen. If we are called upon to take military action against any Martian targets we will be ready to do just that.”

  Connor stepped forward. “Listen up,” he said. “This is a highly classified mission, at this point. We have three months until we’ll be heading out and until then we’ll be training every day. The boys and girls over at Helios are working away now at the modified code for the sims and the drones. Mars represents a new challenge for us and it’s one that we will meet and excel at. There’s some preliminary work gone on already, so you can set your IVRs to Martian gravity and get to work on some virtual training exercises right away. Myself and Captain Soward will be developing more advanced and realistic training scenarios over the next few days and we’ll get you into those sims as soon as possible. Practical training for this mission will not be possible. The only way we can replicate the 0.38 relative gravity of Mars is in the sims.” He paused. “We’re leaving in less than three months. We do not know how long we will be gone. Get your affairs in order and get your asses in the IVRs. Dismissed.”

  Steiner, Foley and Johnson left the meeting and headed straight to the compound’s IVRs. They were housed in a large shed-like building across the drill square from the red brick building where they had just been briefed. Military IVRs were even more immersive than the commercial home versions. The shed had twenty down either side. They took the form of large pods with ladders up to the cockpits. Once inside the user would have been hard put to tell that they were not sat inside a commander combat mech. Very high-resolution screens played representations of the outside world and any movement by the user was reflected in the apparent movement of the virtual combat mech. It was a very convincing illusion.

  “Goddamned Mars, can you believe that shit?” said Johnson. “I thought we were going to China, for sure.”