Tinaree: Trial By Inferno (Shadows Of Peace Book 1)

by Nic Plume

  She would’ve preferred to slide her back against the wall like Tonee had, but with all the supplies in her pack, she would’ve still been looking straight down the hole. Better to do this head-on. She slid her arms through the straps of Tonee's pack, settled it on top of Taylor's, drew a breath, and then stepped onto what was left of the hallway. It took her about twice as long as Tonee, but she made it across without incident. And the big guy was smart enough not to comment.

  They entered what seemed to be the apartment’s back door into a short, dark section of an L-shaped hallway. The walls on each side of the door were lined with shelves, shoe cabinets, and coat racks. Ahead, in the far corner of the left-turning hallway, an open door allowed a view of the building's collapsed southern wall.

  Cutting across the inside corner of the hall was a double glass door that led into an office. It was surprisingly intact. Two more smaller rooms were located across from each other at the far end of the hallway, off the large landing in front of the more ornate eastern entrance to the apartment.

  Outside the eastern door was a landing with what was left of a stairwell and lift. It looked like the reinforced lift tube was holding up a large chunk of the collapsed southern wall.

  Kaydeen turned to look at Salayla, who stood in the corner of the hall.

  "Where are the kitchen and bedrooms?"

  "This way," Salayla replied and disappeared into the doorway beside her. Kaydeen, taking the double door by the eastern landing, followed her into what used to be an oversized living-room but now was little more than a tunnel with an unmarred wall to her right and an overhanging arched wall of rubble to her left. She passed the door Salayla had come through, looking back at the apartment’s northern entrance, and stepped through a partially blocked doorway into a smaller room. A dining chair stood against the wall ahead. She turned right, through the unmarred door into the kitchen. An island that took up the central floor space greeted her. Dust and small pieces of debris covered its surface, the surfaces of the countertops, cabinets, and appliances lining the walls, and the floor… Maybe not quite as unmarred. To her left was another door leading into another hallway. This was where she found the bedrooms—a large one to the left, two smaller rooms to the right, and a bath at the end. The large bedroom was also filled with rubble from the collapsed southern wall.

  A hole in the wall of the last small bedroom gave access to what was left of the neighboring apartment—two bedrooms and a bath. From the ruffled bedding and discarded sleepwear on the floor, it looked like the family of three had been asleep, or at least in their bedrooms, when the building had been damaged. With the rest of their apartment buried under rubble, breaching the wall to their neighbors had been the only way to escape.

  Had the residents of the first apartment also been home? If so, whoever had resided in the south-facing rooms was probably still there.

  Kaydeen banished the thought and helped Tonee and Salayla settle Taylor onto the bed. She pulled out the med-scanner and checked his vitals. Still steady. Good.

  She gave him some water, then proceeded to clean and rebandage Salayla's leg wound. Meanwhile, Tonee paced the room.

  As she worked, they discussed defensive barricades, and how to best improve their chances to contact Intergal while avoiding being found by the Traverse.

  "You could leave me," Taylor said in a surprisingly strong voice. From the scanner reading and his rhythmic breathing, Kaydeen had assumed him asleep. "Nobody in their right mind is going to enter this dump."

  "That’s not going to happen." Tonee stopped to look at him. "And you know it."

  Taylor nodded minutely. "Going out to find them will have a better chance of success than waiting for Intergal to find us. They’ll return to clear out this area, but as you just said, this building isn’t very inviting from the outside or inside.” He forced a grin. So, he’d been awake throughout their conversation.

  "Not up for discussion," Tonee replied. He was pacing again. "We're not leaving you behind."

  "You wouldn’t." Taylor tried one more time. "You’d be making contact and guiding in the evac."

  "Nope." Tonee stayed firm. "Not happening."

  While Taylor's reasons were valid, Kaydeen agreed that splitting the team was a bad idea. They were each pushing the edge of their limits. Kaydeen shook her head. They were running low on options.

  "When’s the last time any of you slept?"

  Taylor waited a few moments for the answer. When they didn't speak, he said, "So, none of you slept last night or at the doctor's office, and only a few hours at the barn.” He nodded to himself. "You really think your judgement is still good?"

  "No," Salayla replied, "which is why we’re not separating."

  "I’m the only one who has slept in the last two days, and I'm the one who keeps going in and out of sleep." Taylor chuckled. "Kind of ironic, huh?" His face fell, allowing the color to drain a little more.

  "You're not giving up," Tonee told him.

  Taylor looked at him. Even that effort drained him. "I’m not."

  "Good." Tonee nodded. "Then we each know our jobs." He looked at the others before looking back at Taylor. "Yours is to stay alive, so conserve your energy." He paused. "I want to see you on the other side."

  Taylor nodded and closed his eyes. His features relaxed but his concentration remained, focusing on exactly that: staying alive.

  Kaydeen had no doubt that he’d succeed.

  Tonee laid his hand on Taylor's chest, as if verifying the truth of his intent one more time. He kept his gaze on Taylor's face while Kaydeen attached the med-scanner to Taylor's belt, then pushed off to stand.

  "I love that asshole," Tonee mumbled as they approached the breach in the wall.

  "Then let's get him home," Kaydeen replied, and motioned him ahead.

  Tonee nodded. "Let’s," and crossed into the other apartment.

  Kaydeen surveyed the ramp-like pile of debris leading up to the collapsed stairway. There wasn't much they could do with it. Most of the pile was in plain sight of the plaza and the lower levels of the buildings bordering it. Staying within the confines of the apartment would make it harder to monitor the outside, but it would keep as much solid matter as possible between them and any scanners the Traverse might be carrying. It wouldn't protect them from vehicle-borne scans, but it looked like the Traverse had been grounded, so any vehicles coming past should be Intergal.

  She returned to the apartment’s hallway, where Salayla was putting the finishing touches on their defenses. Tonee, meanwhile, was busy on a last resort—their 'oh, shit' defense, as he called it. He rigged the debris forming the semi-tunnel to the kitchen door to collapse, sealing the access to the kitchen and the back bedrooms. The trigger was a metal rod they could kick out as they entered the kitchen, which meant that at least one of them would be locked in with Taylor.

  "Triggering that will trap us inside the apartment," Salayla commented when he explained its function.

  "Yes." He nodded. "At least until we break through the kitchen wall into the hallway."

  "And how are we going to accomplish that?"

  "With brute force." He grinned. When Salayla raised her eyebrows at him, he elaborated. "The walk-in pantry has shelves we can easily pull down, and on the far side of those shelves is the low shoe cabinet with the seat cushion on top, which we can step over or push aside. So, the hardest part will be breaking through the wall, and that won't be all that hard since it's thinner than any of the others." He opened the pantry door and pointed out the lip of a door-sized alcove in the far wall. "Maybe it was a hall closet that was reconfigured, or a second entry into the kitchen that was closed off. I don't know." He shrugged. "But this wall is an add-on and only half as thick as the other walls, so it should be easy to break through."

  "Should," Salayla said.

  He considered her for a moment, then grabbed the metal bar lying on the kitchen island and handed it to her.

  "Steel beats plaster and paneling every time," he
said. "Especially when it’s not part of a weight-bearing wall." He nodded into the pantry. "Which that one isn’t. I can't tell what the frame is made of, but again, it's not a weight-bearing wall, so a steel bar will still beat it. At least with some leverage."

  "Okay," Salayla said. "You’re the subject matter expert." She handed him the bar. "So, steel bar versus wall it is." She tilted her head at him. "Where are we going to store it?"

  "In the hallway," he replied. "Because that will be the way we're headed when the 'oh, shit' comes down."

  "You got a couple more of those?" Kaydeen asked, pointing at the bar.

  "I do." Tonee nodded.

  "Then, why don’t we put this one in here, just in case."

  He did, then pointed out the others in the hall.

  Kaydeen grabbed two of them, placed one in the back bedroom, and the other by Taylor's bed. She looked at the med-scanner’s display. It showed Taylor's vitals steady, his breathing slow and even. She wondered if he was asleep this time. Either way, he was staying alive and conserving energy, and didn’t need her distracting his attention. She resisted the urge to touch him, turned, and went to join Salayla and Tonee in the front hallway.

  Salayla stood by the back door, the butt of the L-slugger pressed into the crook of her shoulder, its barrel pointing at Tonee racing toward her along the skinny ledge. No, not at Tonee but past him. Kaydeen pulled the carbine into ready position and went into a half-crouch. Her finger hovered over the safety switch, but she didn’t flick it. She had no idea what set them off. Then she heard it—them. Traverse. Two, maybe three distinct voices approached the building. Tonee slid past Salayla and sidestepped the next obstacle—almost. His foot clunked against the low shoe cabinet with the seat cushion on top. They froze.

  Maybe they didn't hear it, Kaydeen thought.

  The voices fell silent. Shit.

  Kaydeen slid behind one of the obstacles and steeled herself for the battle to come. And then she waited. And waited some more. Where the hell are they?

  A shot echoed off the walls, then a scream, then a shitload of shots. Kaydeen instinctively ducked. But nothing happened, other than the sound flowing into the apartment assaulting her ears. She looked around. What the hell? Tonee and Salayla looked equally confused. And then the shooting stopped, and their surroundings fell quiet again.

  Could it be? Had Intergal finally found them?

  The silence stretched on, and on, and on.

  Come on, QRF. Say something, do something, give us a sign. Please.

  Thunk, tuktuktuk, thud. The sound wasn't much, and not very loud, but in the expectant silence it might as well have been an avalanche. Somebody was trying to be stealthy and took a wrong step...or maybe the debris was settling and shifted on its own. Maybe an Intergal search party was making its way up the debris pile. Who else would get into a firefight with a Traverse patrol? But, who said that Intergal won that fight? Maybe it was Traverse who were climbing that pile. Or maybe it was nobody. Maybe Intergal did win, but the troopers were unaware of the team's presence and bypassing the building. Maybe they should go out and make their presence known. But what if it wasn't an Intergal patrol? Or, if she misinterpreted the gunfire and the Traverse patrol wasn't taken out and had decided against entering the building?

  If it was an Intergal patrol and they allowed it to pass them, it would take that much longer to get Taylor the medical attention he needed. The longer it took, the worse his chances were going to be. But, if they drew the attention of an overwhelming Traverse force, then his chances would be zero.

  Skittering snapped Kaydeen’s attention back into focus. It had come from behind her.

  She turned to look for the source of the sound. The corner of the L-shaped hallway was as bare as she’d left it when building her defensive position. She looked toward the other door into the apartment. It was open, its frame too warped to allow it to close. But access from that side was blocked…or was it?

  They’d never climbed down the tube’s shaft to make sure. But with the first floor buried under two huge piles of rubble, there was no way it could’ve been that easily found.

  The skittering sounded again. This time, Kaydeen saw what caused it. A surveillance drone. Not the large, clunky kind the Tinareeans used, but the palm-sized autonomous kind the rest of the galaxy used, including Intergal and the Traverse.

  Is it ours or theirs?

  She couldn’t tell, not without closer inspection. She leaned to the side for a better view of the telltale markings and angles—and then its pieces pelted her.

  Shit. She ducked.

  More fragments hit her. This time, from the barricade she ducked behind.

  "Contact. East door," she called out at the same time as the shooting at the northern entrance started.

  Salayla and Tonee had that side under control, so she could focus on the east side as they’d planned.

  25

  Rescue

  The plaza Robert landed in was surrounded by multistory apartment buildings, and large enough to easily accommodate his shuttle behind the boxy troop transport and the sleek Infiltrator already on the ground. Dean charged down the ramp before it was fully extended and jumped the last meter to the ground. He had unbuckled his safety harness and been out of his seat before the shuttle had fully settled and, ignoring Robert’s calls to wait for him, had slapped the ramp’s release on his way out of the cockpit.

  Dean landed easily on the plaza’s artfully inlaid stonework and slowed his pace to a fast march as he passed the whimsical fountain in its center. His body language and voice carried as much weight as the insignia on his chest. Nobody liked to listen to a frazzled, out-of-breath desk jockey, no matter how high his rank. And that was exactly how most frontline troopers would see him once they saw his rank’s support designation—as a bumbling bureaucrat who didn’t know his battle ground from his park. He chuckled. He’d done the same at the beginning of his career. And then he’d learned the fine art of using people’s perceptions and biases to his advantage. Being perceived as a bumbling bureaucrat was quite useful in his current line of missions.

  He pulled his gray sleeves down, rolled his shoulders back and marched across the plaza.

  As Dean passed between the two ships, the transport’s squad leader, Andis, waved for his attention. Dean ignored him and continued to the partially-destroyed building the shuttle’s scanner had identified as his target. After a short sprint, Andis planted himself in Dean’s path. He didn’t salute since doing so in a combat zone could be unhealthy for the receiving officer.

  His back stiffened as he scanned Richards’ insignia. "Commander Richards, sir, we weren’t aware that you were coming."

  "Is that a problem?" Dean walked past him.

  Unable to stop him, the officer fell in beside him, "Yes, sir. I will need to recall one of my teams before I can supply you with a security detail." He paused. "You can wait in the transport until they arrive."

  "Don’t bother," Dean replied. "I’ll find my own way."

  Andis looked at him, dumbfounded, then said, "Sir, I can’t let you do that."

  Dean slowed his pace as he studied the young man’s face. "Excuse me?" he paused. "And how exactly do you plan to stop me? With force?"

  "No, sir, of course not." Andis pointed at the ten-story tall apartment building ahead of them. "But, that’s a hot zone. You can’t go in without protection."

  "It looks pretty cool to me," Dean replied. "There hasn’t been a shot fired since Commander Mason’s squad entered the building." He looked at his wrist comm. "Thirteen and a half minutes ago." He looked back at Andis. "So, I fully intend to enter that building now, with or without your security detail."

  They had arrived at the indicated building. A huge hole gave access to a pile of rubble that formed a ramp of sorts to the far side of the second floor. Dean stopped to study the eight bodies lined up on the ground to his left.

  "They were DOA when we arrived," Andis supplied. "We recovered them from various loc
ations in and outside the building. Haven’t had a chance to bag them, yet."

  Dead On Arrival, so they weren’t killed by Mason’s squad or the ground forces with them.

  "Were you able to ID them?" Dean asked. When Andis shook his head, he added, "So, neither TRM nor Intergal. That’s good."

  Andis frowned. "Why would they be Intergal? They’re wearing Traverse uniforms."

  Dean ignored the question and stepped onto a metal beam sticking out of the bottom of the debris pile.

  "Sir, I wouldn’t climb that. This whole place could come down any minute."

  Dean took another step, "It’s safe enough for our people to be in there." Finding stable footing, he continued to climb the pile.

  Andis exhaled in exasperation. "Hold up, sir. Let me get ahead of you."

  Dean stopped and looked back at him. "Don’t you have a better job to do?"

  "Yes, sir," the squad leader looked at him with a wry smile. "Right now, it’s to safeguard you."

  Dean chuckled. "Son, I haven’t been a CHiT in a long time, so I don’t need a babysitter."

  CHiT stood for ‘Combat Hero in Training,’ a nickname the SF veterans used for newbies who hadn’t yet proven themselves. None of the other service branches used it, but they all knew what it meant. Andis’ eyes narrowed.

  "Go back and take care of your troopers, Squad Leader," Dean said. "That’s an order."

  Andis studied him a moment longer. "Yes, sir." He nodded and then pivoted to return to his transport, and his squad.

  Dean continued his climb. The rubble was compact enough for his footing to slip only once before he reached the partially-destroyed inner hallway. He assumed the long gaping hole, ripped into the hallway’s floor and ceiling, used to be filled with stairs. He made his way across the jagged ledge running along the left wall and to the shattered door of the apartment on the far end.

  The hallway past it was littered with large furniture pieces. A coffee table, a large settee, and a dresser, all placed to slow down whoever had broken down the door. Somebody had put quite a bit of thought into the layout of these defenses. The largest and heaviest pieces of furniture were spaced out along the two walls, forming a zig-zagging trail that was wide enough to maneuver but too narrow to allow more than one person around each bend. Fragments of smaller furniture and other items were scattered all over. They must have been stacked to extend the barricades’ height and allow for better fighting positions, which would explain their destruction as they would have been the first targets of anyone trying to clear the hallway’s obstructions. Scorch marks adorned the walls and furniture in a neat pattern of ‘chase the rabbit into the hole’ and the ozone smell of gunfire still hung in the air.