Blood of Patriots (Book 4 of The Humanity Unlimited Saga)

by Terry Mixon

  “Well, coming down here was the wrong thing to do,” he growled. “If we didn’t have people coming down the ropes, I’d send your ass right back up there. Since you’re here, I’m going to put you under guard. Where the hell is Sandra?”

  “I left her watching the heavy-worlders. She probably thinks I’m still up there.”

  Harry cursed under his breath, not quite loud enough for her to make out the words over the fighting around them. “You make me crazy, Jess. What did you think you could do down here?”

  While they’d been speaking, several other soldiers had been checking the aliens, including Krueger. He stood up from where he’d been kneeling beside one of the fallen and walked over to them.

  “Almost all of them are dead or dying,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “We don’t know anything about their physiology, so wounds of this caliber are beyond our medics. One of them looks like he might make it, though. He took some hits in the legs and his right arm, but we were able to stop the bleeding. It looks like one of the shots grazed his head, too. Probably knocked him out. He’s coming around, so I had my people bind him.”

  “I need to talk to him,” Jess said, forgetting her argument with Harry. “I might be able to get some information from him.”

  The Navy officer looked skeptical. “In the middle of the battle?”

  “It’s not exactly in the middle of the battle anymore,” she hedged. “The battle is out at your front lines. We’re back here and should be safe now, right?”

  “As this intrusion has already proven, we can never count on being completely safe,” Harry said in a repressive tone. “Still, I suppose it won’t hurt to try and see if you can at least understand what he’s saying. We’re not going to do any in-depth questioning until I move him—and you—back up to the top of the hill though.”

  She ignored the implied accusation in his tone and walked over to where the alien lay. He looked in pretty bad shape, but he did look as if he was going to live. His eyes were a flat green color that looked completely unnatural but seemed to go well with his skin color. His shoulder-length hair was a deep black and only covered his head. Either his people didn’t grow beards or mustaches, or he’d shaved recently.

  Making certain to stay clear of his reach—even though several soldiers were holding him down and his hands and legs were bound—Jess waved her hand to catch the alien’s distracted attention. He might have the equivalent of a concussion, because he didn’t seem like he was completely focused.

  “Look at me,” she said firmly in the heavy-worlder language. “Do you understand what I’m saying to you?”

  The alien blinked in what looked like surprise and then shook his head. “Yes. How can you speak the tongue the Masters use to command us?”

  The dichotomy between the headshake and his acknowledgment that he understood her momentarily confused her, but then she realized that she couldn’t count on gestures meaning what she expected in an alien society. For him, shaking of the head seemed to be agreement.

  “That isn’t important,” she said. “I have some questions to ask you, but I want to start by telling you that we will do what we can to save your life.”

  Her words only seemed to confuse him more. “Why would you do that? The wounded are expendable to the Masters.” Those last words held a hint of what certainly sounded like bitterness.

  Maybe there was an opportunity here after all. “That’s not how my people and I work. We fight when we need to fight, but we don’t kill those that we can save. I’m sorry that none of your companions are going to survive, but you will.”

  The alien man grunted. “So that you can torture the secrets of the Masters from me? You shouldn’t make it sound as if you’re offering me a gift.”

  She smiled but made certain not to show her teeth. That might have negative implications for his culture. “That’s not how we work. What’s your name?”

  “Lastark,” he said after a few seconds.

  “Cheer up, Lastark. This might just be your lucky day. If you help us, we might be able to help you get out from under the heels of the Masters.”

  The alien made a noise that sounded like a chuckle. “No one escapes the Masters. The Masters will continue to rule, and one day they will decide to eliminate your kind. I have no idea why they haven’t done so already.”

  “It’s complicated,” she said. “We call our species human. What do you call your species?”

  “My people are the Peret,” he said. “It is our lot to fight for the Masters.”

  Remembering the head gesture that the alien had used, she shook her head. “They once had other races that fought for them. Humans, similar to myself, but redesigned to be stronger. Have you ever heard of them?”

  The alien raised his elbows slightly away from his body. “I have not. Our people have many legends and myths about the Masters and the time before the great collapse, but I do not believe that I have heard of humans ever fighting for the Masters. It seems to me that you’ve always been fighting against them.”

  “Do you think you can sit up?” she asked.

  He seemed to hesitate for a moment and then shook his head. “I believe so.”

  “Help him to sit up,” she said in English.

  “Are you sure that’s such a good idea?” Harry asked. “What has he said?”

  She felt like slapping her forehead. Of course they hadn’t understood anything that she’d said or the alien’s answers. Though, interestingly, Krueger didn’t share her partner’s blank look. Something to explore later.

  “I think this will be fine,” she said, gesturing for the soldiers to help the alien sit up. She then explained everything she’d learned.

  “I think I might be able to get him to cooperate more fully with us,” she concluded. “Maybe it would be best if we moved away from the dead bodies.”

  While she’d spoken with the alien, the remainder of his companions had perished from their wounds. That was ghastly and horrible, but it didn’t seem to overly concern the wounded man. That was sad and sick and said something terrible about the Asharim.

  “I think that would just emphasize that we just killed all of his friends,” Krueger said with a brief headshake. “If he’s talking now, I suggest you keep talking. Don’t change any of the variables unless there’s a purpose to it.”

  Harry nodded and took a step away from the group. “Commander, I’m leaving Jess in your hands. I’ve got to get back to the fighting. We’ve repulsed a number of attacks, and I think it’s time for us to go capture a few of the Asharim for ourselves.”

  With that, her partner walked off. She was pretty sure Harry was still angry with her and that this discussion wasn’t over by a long shot, but she was glad to see that he wasn’t going to dwell on it at this particular moment.

  She needed to consider carefully what she was going to do next. She had her hands on someone familiar with the disposition of forces inside the Asharim city. If she nurtured a relationship with Lastark, it was possible that she could save hundreds of lives over the course of this battle.

  Hell, she might be able to end the war without more fighting. If she knew how to open a dialog with the Asharim, it was conceivable that she could negotiate a cease-fire that led to something more permanent. There was no need for the fighting to continue.

  Of course, stopping something that had been going on for longer than anyone on this planet had been alive would be difficult. People held grudges. Aliens probably held grudges too. None of that would be easy to work through. But if she didn’t at least try, then it certainly wouldn’t end without one side absolutely crushing the other.

  It was her duty to try and find a less violent conclusion to this problem. If that worked, great. If not, she’d done what she could. She might still come out of this with a number of people willing to talk to her. That had to be worth something.

  She refocused her attention on the wounded alien sitting on the bloody ground in front of her. “We’ve got a lot to talk
about and very little time to do so. Let’s begin.”

  29

  Queen sat with his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. How had his move gone so wrong? He’d been certain that the Chinese wouldn’t dare strike back. For Christ’s sake, they hadn’t even been using the Yucatán spaceport. It had just been scoring points.

  Only that hadn’t proven true. The Chinese had retaliated by firing cruise missiles at the ruined alien base in New Zealand. It had been completely destroyed. He had no idea how many people had been inside the thing, but that hadn’t slowed those bastards down one little bit.

  It wasn’t as if the militaries in the area could stand up to them, after all. China—all posturing aside—was the strongest military on the planet. If they wanted to conquer Japan, New Zealand, Australia, South Korea, and the Republic of Nauru, there was nothing anyone could do to stop them, as long as they were willing to pay the price in blood and global condemnation.

  And it seemed that they were, at least to the point of making a counterstrike against what he’d ordered done in Mexico.

  Of course, now everyone’s hair was on fire. Accusations and counteraccusations were flying across the globe, and nations were aligning themselves on one side or the other. The world was closer to war than it had ever been during his lifetime. He’d made a terrible mistake in judging how they would respond.

  How could he fix it? What could he do that would change anything?

  A rap at his door drew his gaze and ended his introspection. It was Gina Tanner, his personal assistant. Her expression was both sad and grave.

  “You have a visitor,” she said quietly.

  “Not now,” he said. “I have to think about what we need to do next.”

  “I think you can make time for me,” George Blankenship, the president of the United States, said as he stepped past Gina. “That will be all, Miss Turner. Make certain that we’re not disturbed.”

  Gina nodded, stepped back out of the office, and closed the door quietly behind herself.

  George shook his head. “Dammit, Josh. What the hell did you do? And I mean that in a rhetorical sense, since I know exactly what you did. Why did you do it? What did you think would happen?”

  Queen sighed. It was worse than he’d thought. If the president felt the need to come over to see him, then the situation was dire.

  “I was just trying to put them back on their heels,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “If we let them keep walking all over us, they’re not ever going to stop. This game is for keeps, George.”

  Blankenship sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “This isn’t a game, Josh. While you might think it is, the consequences are far too significant for playing around.

  “The United States has been underestimating and misunderstanding the goals and intentions of China for as long as we’ve had relations with them. There’s something to the fact that we just don’t think alike. It’s happened time and time again, where one side or the other thinks they’ve understood what the other will do and then found out that they were completely and utterly wrong. This situation is an excellent case in point.”

  The two of them sat in silence for a few seconds before Queen spoke. “What should I have done? What can I do?”

  “You’re not going to like hearing the answers to those questions,” the president said heavily. “The first thing you shouldn’t have done is attacked them. For God’s sake, you’d just arranged a public cease-fire. Sure, they’d have been maneuvering behind the scenes, but the blatant military action would’ve been off the table.

  “When you attacked the spaceport, what did you really gain us? Nothing. It was just posturing because your opponent had pulled something off that you hated. You couldn’t stand the thought of them getting ahead in this game that you’re playing.”

  Blankenship rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “You got into a pissing contest with Chen, but the man wasn’t willing to take what you did lying down. Worse, he convinced his government to back him with solid retribution.

  “You, on the other hand, didn’t bother to get me to back you at all. You do realize that military action requires my input, right? I gave you permission to use some of the forces but not for combat with China. I authorized off-world action against aliens.

  “Now we find ourselves in a very difficult situation. One that I can get us out of, but the price is going to be significant.”

  Queen set up abruptly at that last sentence. There was a way out. Even if it was painful, that was better than being trapped in a shooting war.

  “What is it? What do we have to do?”

  Blankenship stared deep into his eyes for a few seconds. “We don’t have to do anything. I have to do something you won’t like and that I wish I didn’t have to do. Josh, I’m going to need your letter of resignation on my desk within the hour.”

  Queen blinked. “What?”

  The president stood. “We’ve known each other a long time, so I came to tell you in person that the price to put this genie back in the bottle is your job. The Chinese see you as personally responsible for what happened at the Yucatán spaceport. For once, they actually got it right. It was you.

  “They’ve demanded that I fire you and, for the sake of our country, I’m going to do so. I don’t really have a choice. You abused my trust and I’d probably have fired you anyway, but with this being the only chance we have to stop this from growing into something uncontrollable, I’m afraid that you’re going to have to go.”

  Queen knew he should’ve said something, but his mind was blank. He just sat there with his mouth halfway open and watched as the president walked out of his office and closed the door behind him with a final-sounding click.

  Fired? He was the damned secretary of state. He had too much work to do for the United States to be sidelined like this. Was that what the Chinese really wanted? They knew how dangerous he was and had to get him out of the picture?

  That had to be it. There was no other answer.

  He couldn’t let them get away with this. He had to do something to stop them.

  Then he slumped back into his seat. He’d been fired. There wasn’t anything that he could do.

  But maybe—just maybe—there was something still within his power that would make a difference. It was far from optimal, but it was something that he’d been working out the logistics of for a while.

  The president would have his resignation on his desk in an hour as ordered. That gave him at most half an hour to set his final gambit into motion. He retrieved a phone number from his desk, picked up his phone, and started dialing.

  The president was going to be seriously pissed, but what was he going to do? Fire him twice? Screw the bastard. This was the last chance he had to make one final move in the game, and he was going to take it.

  Harry tried his very best not to stomp as he walked away from Jess. How could she be so irresponsible? She could’ve been killed! And in spite of his good intentions, he found himself stomping.

  He sighed as he resumed his oversight of what was going on through the drone feeds. Nothing he did would change how Jess behaved. Nothing at all. He might as well just get used to it.

  What he needed to focus his attention on right now was stopping the enemy, who was trying to regroup. His surprise attack had sown chaos among the forces arrayed against them, and their quick descent had formed a bridgehead that broke the will of a good number of the aliens on this side of the hill.

  Now he needed to capitalize on that and send them packing. If he continued to hit the forces on this side as hard as he could, they’d run. Well, any humans in their place would run. He probably shouldn’t make that assumption about aliens doing the same.

  “Snipers,” he said over the general net. “Increase rate of fire. I want you to break the forces trying to take back the bottom of the hill near our forces. Get them off our necks so that we can turn our attention to the main group.

  “Firebase Alpha, start dropping mortar rou
nds into the middle of the forces on the other side of the hill. Soften them up or send them packing, I don’t care which.”

  As the two groups acknowledged his commands and started carrying out the attacks he’d ordered, Harry gestured for Rex and Gunnery Sergeant Danvers to join him. Once they were huddled down beside him, he gestured off toward the forest.

  “The drones still show our Asharim friends sitting out there. If we can get the group of aliens around us to move, I want two teams ready to go. Jess says that one of the Asharim would be useful to question, and I’d like to oblige her, even if she has pissed me off.”

  Rex laughed. “I saw this coming a mile off, Boss. You should’ve too. She’s going to do what she thinks is best, and the only way to keep her on the sidelines is to chain her up. I’m not even sure how well that would work, now that I think about it.”

  Harry sighed and shook his head. “You’re probably right, but I’m still going to keep trying. Be ready to move out as soon as we have the opportunity. Rex, I want your group to scout ahead and make sure that the rest of us come through clean. We don’t need to run into an ambush.”

  “You got it. It seems like the herd is thinning out a bit, so I should be able to get moving in about five minutes at this rate.”

  “Do you think we’ll be able to capture one of the head honchos?” Danvers asked. “Judging from what we can see via the drones, they’re pretty well protected. It’s going to take most of the people we bring along to deal with the escort those aliens have protecting them. We might want to bring a little extra.”

  Harry shook his head. “We’re going to have to move fast. They have people in the woods watching the hill, so they’re going to see us coming. The only way we’re going to corral them is to strike fast. We can always call for backup once we have them cut off from the city.

  “I don’t want to take too many people away from this fight, because it might still end up being a really ugly affair, but if we ever want to settle this, we’re going to have to get our hands on one of the Asharim.”