Siege Protocol: The Separatist Wars: Book 3

by Thomas Webb

  It wasn’t long before Lima hailed her from the TOC. “We are clear, Valkyrie. Come on down.”

  The area in front of the hangar looked like the battlefield it was, with way too much debris to put the platform down safely. Shane identified a space on the tarmac behind the hangar that was relatively clear of wreckage, bodies, and general destruction. She moved to it, setting the bird down.

  She left the attack craft and walked through the battle site. Bodies, android components, mechs, and bomb craters littered the area next to the hangar. The hanger itself had several doors blown, and bore the scars of mortar rounds, pulse burns, and plasma scorches. She knew her people were good, but she marveled at how the hell her girlfriend and the rest of the team had gotten out of this one alive.

  She walked around to the main entrance, ready to punch in her access code. There was no need. The door had been blasted clean off. Inside were the remnants of a squad of androids and several dead fighters. They’d made it as far as the middle of the hangar deck. Scorch marks marred the normally pristine white walls and floor. She trotted up the stairs and through the hall, where she passed several local Brazilian authorities, all in full armor, on their way out. They eyed her suspiciously.

  Lima sat in a chair inside the briefing room. The normally dapper head of ASI looked uncharacteristically disheveled. His coiffed hair was mussed. There was a nasty cut above his forehead. His modular body armor showed signs of pulse round scorching. X37 hovered above him, applying a bandage to his forehead.

  Shane looked around the briefing room. If lima looked bad, Hale looked worse. Smudges covered his face. A dark bruise spread across his cheek. A compression bandage circled his torso. He stood with his arms folded, peering at a series of holo images floating above the briefing table. Gina stood next to him, she’d shed her armor and was dressed in sweat-soaked combat fatigues.

  “Hey babe,” Gina said, offering a weary smile. “Thanks for showing up.”

  She walked straight to Gina, grabbed her, and held her.

  Gina held her back and kissed her forehead. “Glad to see you, too. But I’m ok. . . we’re all ok.”

  “You scared the shit out of me,” Shane whispered.

  She held her for a few seconds more before reluctantly letting her go. Shane searched the room, suddenly worried. Her eyes met Gina’s. “Where are Lash and Kris?”

  “Headed to a local hospital.”

  “Hospital?” Shane asked, her alarm growing. “Are they ok?”

  “They took off a little while after you came on station,” Hale added. “Brazilian special police went with them.”

  “Lash was pretty banged up, but should be ok. Kris just went for security.”

  That was good. Shane knew she’d personally feel safe with the Tauranian sniper watching her six. “What the hell happened here?” she asked.

  “ULS moved more quickly than we thought,” Lima said. His face slipped into a mask of anger. “A mistake which we will not make again.”

  “I saw the wave blocker when I came in,” Shane told them. “Took it out on the way over. Still, seems like the Sao Paulo police would have heard the racket and come running?”

  “This is festival time,” Lima said. “Beings from all over Earth and many of the known worlds travel here for this. The authorities are tied up with crowd control and keeping the peace. And the sounds of the festival are perfect for hiding an attack on an air and space field this far outside the city.”

  That made sense, given what Shane deduced earlier. “I passed the local cops on the way in,” she said. “What’d they say? About the attack, I mean?”

  Gina laughed. “They promised to look into it.”

  “Right,” Shane replied. “The police didn’t seem very happy about all this, from what I could tell.”

  Lima nodded. “An attack on Brazilian soil? I can not imagine they would exactly be pleased. Whoever planned this planned it well.”

  “We know who planned it,” Hale said. “I couldn’t get a shot off with the mechs pinning me down, but I’d swear it was Ramsey who had me in his sights right when Shane roared in with that AC platform. I saw him turn tail and run in the end.” Hale grinned. “I think I managed to wing him, at least. Took him right at the armor joint in the shoulder. By the time Shane had us all clear, he was gone.”

  “Speaking of, how the hell did you score an AC 260?” Gina asked. She shook her head. “No way would they have just let you fly off the base with that.”

  Shane frowned. “Yeah. . . about that. I had to, uh, borrow it?”

  Lima raised a brow. “Borrow?” he said. “With or without permission?”

  Shane sighed. “Without.”

  “Turned out to be a good call,” Hale said. “You saved our asses on that one. Again. Thank you for that, by the way.”

  “You’re more than welcome. I’m sure Air & Space Command won’t share your sentiment.” She turned to Lima. “I was hoping you could help me with that, Silvio. I’m definitely going to need some of your New York muscle on this one.”

  With the bandage applied, Lima thanked X37 and waved the drone body away. “Under the circumstances, I would be glad to help. I must be honest, though. . . this is quite a bit of heat. It may not go away as easily as we would like.”

  Shane swallowed. She was afraid of that. “Understood.”

  Lima nodded. “X37—now that comms are up, are there any messages for me from the UN or Air & Space Command?”

  “Approximately fourteen messages, Mr. Lima.”

  “I see.” Lima shot Shane what she hoped was a not-quite disapproving look. “It sounds like they have already begun the process.”

  “I’ll face the music later,” Shane said. She looked at Gina, who gave her a wink. “I’m just glad everyone is safe. It’s a miracle no one died.”

  “Yeah,” Hale said. “Not sure how many more of those ‘miracles’ we got left in us.”

  “Wouldn’t say we got out unscathed,” Gina said. “Lash took some damage, and our home base is shot all to hell.”

  “Hopefully Lash will have no lasting injuries,” Lima said. “And I have been contemplating renovations anyway. Our current accommodations suddenly feel inadequate.” He leaned back in his chair, thinking. “With this latest attack, our timetable moves up. ULS has grown more desperate, and more dangerous. They had hoped that all this would blow over. That they could take us out quickly, then buy or coerce their way back to United Nations and Planetary Alliance influence.”

  “Slimy-ass corporate goons,” Gina spat. “I heard they’ve already filed paperwork to change the company name.”

  “It will not help them,” Lima said. Shane watched his face darken. “They have made a fatal error today. . . their time has officially run out.”

  -9-

  Lima watched the secure transport set down. The pilots made their landing in one of the only clear spaces left on his formerly pristine, now debris-ridden flight deck. An automated dozer droned by in the background, slowly shoving the remnants of an unlucky mech into a pile of discarded android parts destined for the scrap metal recyclers.

  Several armed and armored UNIA agents exited the transport first, forming a semi-circle around the craft. Not until the agents were satisfied there was no immediate threat did the Assistant Director of United Nations Intelligence emerge.

  Cynthia Brentforth strode down the craft’s stairs, looking every inch the chief of spies that she was. Lima walked over to greet her.

  “Good to see you, Silvio,” she said.

  She leaned forward, accepting Lima’s perfunctory peck on the cheek. Cynthia took in the remnants of the life or death battle, fought mere days ago on the spot where they were standing, with a discerning eye. Lima watched as she noted the destroyed mechs with particular interest. Her eyes flicked up to the still-healing wound on his head. “Looks like a hell of fight went down here.”

  “One could say that,” Lima replied. He kept a straight face as he delivered the understatement of the year
. “I am sorry you and your people missed it,” he added.

  Cynthia laughed. “I’ll bet.”

  Lima smiled, more to break the tension than anything. If he were being honest with himself, the attack had almost spelled the end of his company, his team, and himself. Just one more thing he would be sure to make ULS pay for. “Would you care for some tea?” He offered. “We have much to discuss, and it would be more comfortable to do it in my office.”

  “Lead the way,” Cynthia said, although of course her security detail did that. They weaved through the destruction, avoiding the androids Lima had hired on to help clean up and repair the place, and the piles of destruction and debris left over from the failed attempt to kill them all.

  When they reached the hangar, half of Cynthia’s security team entered through the wide-open hangar doors, making sure the place was locked down tight. When they gave the all-clear, Lima personally walked Cynthia inside.

  The smell of freshly painted sections of hangar deck and walls greeted them. A team of Andarian welders was hard at work, cutting and redesigning a blasted section of the bay and keeping up quite the racket in the process. The borrowed AC 260 gunship sat in all its formidable enormity right in the center of the deck. Lima didn’t miss Cynthia’s sidelong glance at the instrument of war. Lima had directed Shane to wait for them in his office. Shane’s acquisition of the attack craft was one of Cynthia’s main reasons for coming today, and he knew they’d get around to discussing it sooner rather than later.

  “You will excuse the mess, I hope?” Lima said, shouting to be heard over the welders.

  Cynthia dismissed the question with a wave of her hand. Her security team, who seemed to know exactly where they were going, cleared the stairs and entered the upstairs suite that held the offices, meeting rooms, and tactical operations command of Soluções Avançadas Incorporadas.

  When the upstairs spaces was satisfactorily secured Lima, Cynthia, and two agents headed across the hangar deck to a newly installed anti-grav lift. One of the few projects of the base of operations that boasted completed construction, the lift would save his former boss a long hike up a flight of durasteel stairs.

  The quick ride up passed in silence. When the lift arrived at the upper floor offices, the doors whooshed open. They walked down a shot hallway, then stopped outside the door of Lima’s private office.

  Cynthia gave her security detail a nod. “You can wait here,” she said. The UNIA hitters acknowledged her and posted beside the entrance. Cynthia returned her attention to Lima. “How about that chat now?”

  “Of course,” Lima said, smiling. “Please,” he offered, indicating the door. “Ladies first.”

  Cynthia walked in, and Lima shut the door behind them. Shane waited inside, seated on a small couch beside Lima’s desk. She got to her feet as they entered. Zombie was there as well. The former soldier was already standing, arms folded across her chest.

  Cynthia shot Shane a strained smile. “Good to see you again, Ms. Mallory,” she said.

  “You too, ma’am,” Shane said. She approached Cynthia with her hand outstretched.

  Cynthia took it and gave her a nod before turning to Zombie. “Good to see you as well, Ms. Romero.”

  Zombie raised her chin, as close to a greeting as she was going to get. “Hey,” she said.

  Her body language was guarded. Not that Lima would ever let anything happen to his top-notch team, but he didn’t blame Zombie. If not for his and Cynthia’s long history, he might be inclined to feel the same way about the Assistant Director’s presence. Not that he still wouldn’t remain vigilant. In this business, you never gave anyone one-hundred percent trust.

  “How about we all have a seat?” Lima asked. He pulled out a chair for Cynthia, then called X37 in while Shane sat. Zombie chose to stay on her feet. X37’s drone body entered, balancing a tray of tea service for four on one appendage. The drone set the tea down on Lima’s desk. Then, the delivery complete, X37 departed, closing the door.

  Cynthia took a sip of her tea and gave Lima an approving glance. “Delicious,” she said. “Now that we’re all settled, let’s get down to the first order of business.” Cynthia turned in her seat to face Shane. “And that would be you, Captain Mallory.”

  Lima frowned at the use of Shane’s active duty military rank. No “Ms.” this time, he noticed. Shane, ever a strategic thinker, chose not to remind Cynthia that she was no longer a member of the UN military.

  “I informed my superiors I was coming here today,” Cynthia said. “There are some UN officials and a few high-ranking Air & Space Command officers who would very much like a word with you.”

  Lima watched as Shane’s back stiffened. Zombie shifted closer to her side. He wasn’t sure how this was going to go, but he was not about to give Shane up. That much he knew.

  Shane stuck out her chin. “I understand, ma’am. I’m ready to accept whatever consequences of my actions are— “

  Cynthia stopped her with a non-tea holding hand. “I took the liberty of telling my bosses that you wouldn’t be here.” The Assistant Director added a cube of sugar to her tea. “Well, that’s not quite right, if I’m being truthful. I actually told them I had no idea where you were.”

  Lima, ever the trained professional, managed to keep his surprise under control. The look on both Shane and Zombie’s faces, on the other hand, was priceless. Shane recovered the power of speech first.

  “Thank you?” she ventured.

  “You’re quite welcome, young lady. In my opinion, you’re a hero. I think they should have just loaned you the damned attack ship anyway. But we’ll deal with that later. In the meantime, I’ll need assurances that a certain AC 260,” Cynthia nodded toward the stolen weapons platform parked in the hanger, “is returned in pristine condition. Less a few missiles and some other munitions, of course.” She looked Lima in the eye. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”

  Lima shook his head. “No problem at all, Cynthia.” He’d thought about trying to purchase their way out of the problem, but the AC 260 was a little pricey, even for him. Especially given the new armament and the HQ upgrades he’d be implementing. He’d have to make do with the smaller Avenger gunship he already owned, at least for the time being.

  With Shane temporarily in the clear, he thought it a good time to shift the conversation. “Your holo message said you had something for us, Cynthia?”

  Cynthia smirked. She knew his game. She’d taught it to him, after all. “Yes. Some of our friends at Homeworld security got wind of what transpired here the other day.”

  “Woulda been nice if they’d gotten wind of it before it went down,” Zombie said. “Maybe they could have cut this thing off at the knees before it even started.”

  Cynthia shrugged. “For once, Ms. Romero, I agree with you. With the Separatist Wars and the impending talks, everyone’s got a lot on their plate. But still, it was no excuse for the attack to have been missed. I’ll admit that Homeworld dropped the ball, but hopefully this will make up for it.” Cynthia keyed her comm device and threw several holo images up. Mug shots of dead Separatists, some human, some off-worlders, floated in the air. “Homeworld Security’s timing may be for shit,” she began, “but they’ve got some decent analysts over there. And a few resources that even the UNIA doesn’t have access to.”

  “What are we looking at here?” Lima asked.

  “A few people who didn’t have the opportunity to regret attacking you,” Cynthia said. “This is what’s left of some of the ones who hit you the other day.”

  Lima leaned in, very interested now. Homeworld and the UNIA had swooped in and took most of the bodies before he and his resources could check into them.

  Cynthia expanded the image of one human. She touched the space beneath the dead woman’s morgue image and a new picture—one in which she was alive—appeared. There was text beneath the image.

  “Is that a service record?” Shane asked.

  “Yes,” Cynthia confirmed. “This woman was
an EU soldier. Out of Belarus. She separated a couple of years ago, before joining up with a PMC outfit working out of the Nebari system.”

  Lima studied the image, and the information. He saw the military contractor listed at the bottom. “Ares Corporation?” he said. “I do not recognize the name.”

  “They’re not new,” Cynthia said. “They just recently changed their name, is all. They used to be called Zeta group. That ring a bell?”

  “Yeah,” Zombie spoke up. “I’ve heard of them. Even had some buddies that worked for ‘em for a minute. They didn’t stay long, though—said the ick-factor was off the charts. Zeta always seemed a little dirty for my tastes.”

  Lima had heard of them as well. Run by a former Shemari soldier, they took the jobs no one wanted. “Zeta got into some trouble earlier in the Wars,” he said. “There were some killings of civilians, as I recall. If I remember correctly, several of their contractors went down for it.”

  “Yes,” Cynthia said. “But not the CEO. Wasn’t too long after that they went with the name change.”

  “Some rebranding for the market?” Shane offered.

  Cynthia touched the tip of her nose, then pointed to Shane. “Exactly, Ms. Mallory. Although in this case it won’t help them. At least not where the UN is concerned. Ares Corp just landed itself on the watch list for all of UN-controlled space. They are now considered a rogue actor.”

  Zombie’s face scrunched up. “That means they can still do business with the Planetary Alliance though, right?”

  “Sharp, Ms. Romero. And yes, that’s right. As it now stands, anyway. Earth may be an Alliance member, but we don’t see eye to eye on everything. It’s something we’re working on.”

  That was true, Lima thought. If they did agree on everything, perhaps the Alliance would have helped put a stop to the Separatist Wars long ago.

  “This is helpful Cynthia,” he said. His mind was already tracking toward Zeta Group, now called Ares Corporation.

  “Oh, but I have more,” Cynthia said. “For the last several months, Ares has been quietly amassing arms and soldiers.” More holo images appeared above Lima’s desk. “They’ve been gathering troops, artillery pieces, androids. . . even mechs, as you’ve already seen. You name it, they got it.”