by Ward Wagher
“I do not know what he sees in her, but there is no doubt he is smitten.”
“They had a screaming match and she packed up and left,” Jones said. “I got the impression it was permanent this time.”
“That is kind of sad,” she commented. “He brought in on himself, though.”
“Oh, no doubt about that,” Jones chuckled. “It really continues to amaze me how he is such a straightforward Paladin and his personal life is such a mess.”
“Does he go to church somewhere, Boss?” she asked. “He keeps talking about the Bible to people, but he does not act anything like what I think a Christian should.”
“And how would you know?” Jones asked.
“Come on, Boss. My parents are Christians. I know how they are supposed to live.”
“Point taken. We should probably continue to patrol for a while until things quiet down all the way. Our friend upstairs might decide to come back down for another helping.”
She put her hand on the side of her face and sighed. “I just do not understand him.”
“Just be glad we do not have people shooting at him.”
“And that could happen again at any time,” she replied. “Although, once was enough for a lifetime.”
“Very true.”
§ § §
Singman Jones usually stayed up all night when RWB attended one of his parties. It was easier to stay on top of things if he did not require one of the guards to update him on the status when he awakened. He could always sleep on the return shuttle flight, or when he got to his apartment at Wilton House. As such he was instantly alert when Chaim Lewis commed him.
“Our anonymous friend has been heard from again,” Lewis began without preamble.
“A group of boats is converging on Miami. They started from Freeport and Nassau.”
“Arabians?”
“So, it appears.”
“Is there an ETA?”
“Thirty minutes, give or take,” Lewis said.
“Very well, Chaim. I will blow the whistle here. Thanks for the warning.”
“I thanked our anonymous friend,” Lewis replied. “He said I was very welcome.”
“Later then. We can debrief when we get home.”
Jones disconnected from the intelligence master and pushed the button for the all-hands channel.
“Listen up. We have bad guys coming in by boat. ETA is thirty minutes. Execute standard departure procedures, but we need to move it. And stray awake. There may already be people on the ground here. Acknowledge.”
The display on his comm unit started a counter as each member of the team acknowledged. He then pushed the button for the local constabulary. Thankfully, the CFS kept a sizable force in Miami.
He pushed another button on his comm and connected to the CFS police station. A slightly surprised-looking lieutenant appeared on the screen.
“Lieutenant, I am Singman Jones, the head of the Paladin’s security team.”
“I know who you are.” The response was barely civil.
“Are you the duty officer?”
“I am.”
“Very well. We have information that several boatloads of terrorists are converging on Miami. ETA is a little less than thirty minutes. I suggest you prepare to welcome them.”
“How do I know that you are giving me accurate information?” the Lieutenant sneered.
“You do not. We hope to be gone by then, but I expect the team will storm the hotel and kill whoever they can find.”
The officer blanched. “Uh, I understand. Thank you. I need to get a team rolling.”
Jones nodded and disconnected. He then punched the all hands code again. “Is the Paladin up?”
“Yes, Boss,” came the response. “We will be on our way to the landing pad in thirty seconds.”
“Good. Lesa, move toward the elevators.”
“Should we warn the remaining people?” she responded.
“I am walking by the front desk. I will let them know,” Jones replied.
Jones stopped at the front desk of the hotel. At 2 AM few people were about, although the sounds of the dying party were still audible.
“There is a group of terrorists coming in, probably to attack this building. They will be here in less than thirty minutes. Do you know what to do?”
The wispy twenty-something brunette at the desk looked at him wide-eyed. She visibly gulped.
“Yes, Sir. We have procedures for this. If you will excuse me.”
She immediately walked over to pick up her comm unit and punched a button. It looked as though she was on the ball, Jones thought. He walked over to the bank of elevators where Lesa Carper waited, holding an elevator door open.
“Okay, Lesa, we have done all we can do here. We need to get to the roof and get the shuttles off.”
“Right, Boss. This is the express elevator. It will take us all the way up.”
“Good thinking.”
The ride to the top floor did not take long. The Carolina Free State tended to build low. At thirty stories, the Marriott Miami was the tallest building in the town. In fact, it dwarfed everything else. While Miami was working hard to develop its tourist industry, there just were not that many people on the planet who could afford a vacation, let alone that far from home. Nevertheless, there was enough business to encourage investors to build a resort hotel, and it seemed to stay busy. Jones wondered how a terrorist incident would affect business.
The hallway on the top floor contained the door to the penthouse and an elevator to the roof. Since the shuttle pad was a part of the overall design of the hotel, it made sense not to force the paying guests to walk up a flight of stairs to reach their shuttle. Particularly those who could afford to travel by personal aircraft. There was, however, a door next to the elevator that opened to a stairwell leading to the roof. Probably for emergency use.
The hallway was populated by members of the Paladin’s entourage as everyone was streaming towards the shuttle pad. Everyone seemed to be using the stairs, and nobody wanted to hang around to welcome the terrorists. Jones motioned Lesa to go ahead of him and they trotted up the stairs to the roof.
Richard Cathay stood at the entrance of the small cab on the roof and guided the members of the group to the two shuttles. In the background came the sound of turbines spooling up, so it appeared the pilots were aboard.
“Everybody accounted for, Richard?” Jones asked as he stepped out into the night.
“Yeah, Sing. We should be ready to lift off as soon as we get clearance. I think the local traffic control is asleep.”
“If we do not get clearance, we will leave, anyway. I do not want us staying around to play footsy with these guys.”
“I hear you. You and Lesa are the last. We should load up.”
The three of them trotted over to the two waiting shuttles. Jones and Carper boarded the first craft and Cathay got in the second. Jones leaned into the pilots’ compartment,
“The manifest is complete. You can lift off.”
“No clearance, yet, Sing,” the pilot said.
“Go ahead and lift on my authority. Take us up steep in case there is any local traffic.”
“Right, Boss.”
The copilot pressed the button to close the hatch and then turned to the checklist on the central display. Jones made his way to his usual seat in the first row to the right – the seat closest to the hatch. The shrill whine of the turbines grew more subdued when the hatch closed. Jones bucked his seatbelt and felt the vibration in the floor of the shuttle as the pilot brought up the counter-grav. Then the vibration died.
“Hey Jones!” the pilot called back. “We cannot lift off.”
“Of course, you can.”
“No, Boss, I mean the controls are locked out.”
“What? Is there a malf?”
“We are running a diagnostic now.”
At that moment Jones’s comm buzzed. He looked at the display and nothing showed, other than an incoming call. He an
swered it.
“Who is this?”
“Forgive me for locking the controls on your shuttles Mr. Jones,” said the warm, mellifluous voice. “Four teams with portable missiles are arrayed around the base of this building. The odds of surviving a launch in this environment are very low.”
“Who is this?”
“A friend.” And the connection closed.
Jones looked to the left at RWB who was watching him curiously.
“Belay the launch,” he yelled to the pilot. “We have trouble.”
He keyed the comm to all hands. “Threat warning! Vector is the four teams at the base of the building. They are carrying missiles, but whatever else is unknown. Break out the night-vision.”
The rear cargo hatches on both shuttles dropped down. The security team had practiced this very scenario and moved smoothly. As they moved to the rear hatch, they opened lockers and began pulling out weapons and body armor.
Jones turned to the Paladin, who looked annoyed and his friend who was a very frightened looking oriental girl.
“Stay aboard for right now, Boss.” He leaned into the cockpit. “Stay put. Let me know when you get control of the birds again.”
“Right, Chief.”
As he turned to exit the craft the Paladin stuck out a hand.
“Who was on the comm?”
Jones stopped and looked at RWB. “I do not know. I guess it was our anonymous friend.”
“Based on experience, I believe we would do well to listen to him.”
“Quite.”
As he made his way to the rear of the shuttle to suit-up, he met four team members in their body armor and helmets as the moved forward. They were carrying additional body armor and helmets for the Paladin and his guest. They would remain aboard as the last defensive ring for the principal. Jones fervently hoped it never came to something like that.
Carper had already buckled her gear and was over near the edge of the roof. He pulled on his body armor and set the helmet. He pulled his sidearm out of the holster and checked it. He then pulled a rifle from the armory on the shuttle. He stepped off the shuttle and walked across the roof to get an update on the situation.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The security team poured out of the shuttles to assume positions around the perimeter of the roof. The pilots remained at the controls with the systems idling, as Jones hoped they could suppress the attackers enough to launch. At each corner, video pickups were eased over the edge and Jones began to see the telemetry on the screens in his helmet. It looked to him like each had a gunner, a loader and two others to provide cover.
Jones put in a comm call to the local police forces and once again was speaking with the lieutenant.
“Sir, I have scrambled my quick reaction team and the captain is on her way here.”
“Be advised there are four fire-teams at the base of the hotel building,” Jones explained, “and it looks like they have anti-air. I am holding my launch and have secured the roof.”
“The President has directed that we accord every courtesy, Sir,” the lieutenant replied, “and also to ensure your security. The captain asks that you not initiate action until we have people on the scene. We are concerned about civilians stumbling into the crossfire.”
“As are we,” Jones said. “Be advised, though, that I cannot wait any longer than until those incoming boats land. I would then be forced to deal with the immediate threat and avoid the additional forces.”
“I… understand,” the police lieutenant stated haltingly. I expect the captain momentarily.”
“Please ask him to comm me at his earliest opportunity.”
“I will do so, Sir.”
“Jones out.”
“What do we have, Boss?” Lesa Carper asked as she stepped over to Jones.
“What is your analysis of the tactical, Carper?” he asked.
“Four small teams on the ground. I recommend we take them out and then make our exit. I think that the incoming boats will carry enough people and weaponry that we would be in trouble.”
“My thoughts exactly. But the police captain wants us to wait.” Jones opened the group comm channel. “Do not get itchy fingers, folks. Local military and law enforcement are trying to get into position. I will call the ball.”
“I do not like this, Boss,” Lesa commented.
“Why Lesa,” Jones exclaimed, “they are setting up a goat circus and we will be the main attraction.”
“Exactly. I recommend we take out the four teams and get out of here.”
“Recommendation noted. We have a little time – not a lot of time, mind you. But keep working the scenarios. We have time to think.”
“Understood.”
Carper moved off to check the perimeter of the roof and make sure the security people were in position. She did not like Jones’s orders, but she understood why he had made the decision to hold.”
She then checked the cupola. Two of the guards covered the stairwell. They had blocked the door open to keep a good sightline. They had also summoned the elevator and then blocked the door open so that it could not be accessed from below. She nodded in approval. She was confident of her skills and was delighted in the initiative of the team members. Jones had selected well.
Nearer the edges of the roof, other security people lay prone, their weapons ready. The team’s two snipers sat closer to the shuttles and seemed to be as self-contained as an obelisk. The idling turbines turned over just fast enough to stay warm. The shuttles, being space-capable, had internal fusion plants. After their arrival the previous day, the pilots had taken first one shuttle and then the other over to the main shuttleport to refuel the hydrogen tanks, so nobody was worried about running out of gas.
RWB studied the situation on his comp term. Jones had relayed the message that they would hold, pending reinforcement by the local forces. He wondered if the locals were more competent than their counterparts up in Columbia. He was nervous about the outcome.
Senkii huddled in her seat and seemed to quiver. RWB looked over at her.
“No need to worry. Jones knows what he is about. Everyone is mainly concerned about not getting a lot of people killed.”
“But people were killed in Portland.” Her voice rose as she looked at him.
“True. But that attack was a complete surprise and we still stopped it short of what they intended to do. Tonight, we know exactly what is out there, and I guarantee you Jones has a plan to deal with it.”
Outside of the shuttle the popping noise of gunfire began.
“Oh, it is beginning!” Senkii cried.
“What is happening?” RWB asked.
The two guards aboard the shuttle had their visors down and were watching the battlefield map.
“Sir, the local forces arrived, and the nearest terrorist force has engaged them. Okay, Jones gave the order to open fire.”
The snipers on the roof quickly scored hits on the missile gunners. Two of the terrorists fired rifle grenades towards the roof. The grenades traveled partway up the side of the building and impacted the windows, causing a rain of glass to the ground below.
“The idiots are using rifle grenades,” Lesa commented to Jones as they stood in the middle of the roof.
“I am not prepared to complain about their stupidity,” he replied. “At least not tonight.”
After a few minutes, the gunfire died down. From their vantage point on the roof of the hotel they could see the CFS forces quickly overrun the four terrorist teams. Jones shifted to the channel used by the shuttle pilots.
“Are the controls released?” he asked.
“Yes, Chief,” the pilot of RWB’s shuttle replied. “If things are clear on the ground we can lift at any time.”
Jones shifted back to the general squad channel. “By the numbers, mount up.”
The security team quickly folded up their formation and trotted to the boarding ramps. Two guards on each shuttle quickly checked each weapon to make sure it was unloa
ded and safed. Shuttles had been lost when supposedly safed weapons had discharged.
One by one, the shuttles launched and quickly climbed into the stratosphere, leaving the CFS to deal with the incoming boats. Jones’s comm pinged.
“You were not supposed to open fire,” the CFS captain shouted over the link.
“They were getting ready to chew your people up, Captain,” Jones replied.
“I think not. You have left me a mess to clean up here at the hotel. I think I would like you to return so we can settle this.”
“Sorry,” Jones said. “My first responsibility is to my principal. We need to get him home. I would be happy to invite you to Chicago to participate in the after-action meeting.”
“No, I think you need to return, right now.”
“You have several boatloads of terrorists coming into the beach momentarily. I would suggest that is your highest priority.”
“We are not done, here,” the captain insisted.
“Enjoy your day, Captain,” Jones replied. “It will likely be a long one.”
With that, he disconnected.
“Someone unhappy back in Miami?” RWB asked.
“Typical CFS functionary,” Jones replied dryly. “He is so full of himself that he does not see what is getting ready to bite him on the posterior.”
“Any thoughts about the four teams at the base of the hotel?” RWB asked.
“It seemed to me like they reverted to form.”
“In other words, they were being stupid again?”
“Exactly, Chief. I had been getting very concerned about the level of skill shown by the teams we have been tracking or have engaged recently. Still substandard, but much more of a threat. These guys tonight were amateurs.”
“We can be thankful for small favors, I guess,” the Paladin smiled. “I do not think we can relax, however.”
“Oh, I do not intend to. I want to find out what is driving these people into these bouts of insanity.”
The Paladin turned to the girl sitting next to him. “Senkii, I will make arrangements to get you home.”
“Thank you, RWB. I had wondered about that.”
“I suppose you are my guest for the moment,” he continued. “Would you like to visit Chicago for a few days?”