“Not one of them knows the difference between a cutting torch and a wrench,” Bagwis tossed in. “They do know their way around rifles.”
“On the way here, one of your crew mentioned labor negotiations,” inquired Warlock. “Is this anyway normal?”
“We trade on credit between warehouses,” Ryo replied. “If one has an abundance of something, it’ll trade with another to unload the excess. We salvage parts from spaceships and never know what parts can be refurbished or reused. Once a year, Iska and his management team do an accounting. If a couple of warehouses are out of balance, they’re forced to give up inventory. It gets pretty tense and there have been fights. But it has never escalated to killing and guns.”
“What did Iska Maricor say about servicing the Constabulary Navy?” questioned Warlock
“He was, as always, neutral,” Ryo answered. “When Luz asked for ion cannons, diodes and filaments, I trucked most of what I had to his warehouses. Then I asked for ion walls and decking to balance the account and he refused. Instead of waiting for the yearly, I went to Iska. Before he could resolve the issue, the thugs began shooting at my crews. We pulled back to defend two of my warehouses.”
“It’s a mutiny,” declared Bagwis.
“More like a takeover by the Constabulary,” ventured Diosa.
Then, two things happened. Her PIP buzzed with a message and a man ran into the clinic.
“We have trouble at the barricade,” he shouted before turning and disappearing down the hallway.
“I can help, Ryo,” offered Diosa. “Can I trust you not to shoot me in the back?
“I’ll take all the help I can get,” the supervisor stated. “Let’s go.”
Before Ryo could get off the table, Warlock vaulted it. She slapped Bagwis’ pistol into his hand while retrieving her pistol from the woman. As she ran by another crewman, Diosa snatched his rifle, turned the corner into the hallway and sprinted away. She’d moved so fast the six moon base workers were left behind and still gathering themselves.
“Let’s go,” shouted Ryo leading the others into the hallway.
Diosa had already vanished into the large corridor.
***
Four of Ryo’s crew were hunkered down behind the barricade. A body lay dead from a head shot and the last person at the barrier knelt by his side crying. Rather then move to the crates, Warlock jumped into the bed of the truck.
From the higher vantage point she peeked over the cab at the battlefield. Far down the corridor, and practically out of view, was the cab of another truck. Shooters on top and at the exposed fender were using the vehicle as cover. Four rifles pinged at Ryo’s barricade.
The strategy made no sense to the Striker team leader. Why attack just to create a standoff?
Ryo Sota came running up to the truck with four crew members. He seemed confused when he found the retired Master Sergeant sitting on the tailgate.
“Why aren’t you shooting back?” he demanded.
“Listen,” she urged.
“To what? Kinetic rounds against the bulkhead. Or my heart pounding in my chest?” he shouted.
“No. The volume. It’s steady from both sides,” Warlock explained. “They shoot a few and your people reply. What happens if the rate increases drastically?”
“You obviously have something in mind,” Ryo acknowledged. “Tell me.”
“That is a diversion,” Diosa suggested by pointing over her head at the barricade. “What is your troop strength on the other side?”
“That’s Kaito’s warehouse area,” Ryo said. “She has six on the barricade and the rest of her crew still working but nearby.”
“However, with the crews in contact here you couldn’t reinforce her,” surmised Warlock.
Bagwis, bent low and holding a case across his arms, came running up.
“Here. Maybe this will be useful to you,” he said as he placed the case beside Diosa.
Lettering on the case brought a smile to the Striker. GCMC Sniper Deployment Field Kit, Model Kinetic Fifty-Two. Unsnapping the case, she lifted out a long barrel and a buttstock. After snapping the sections together, Warlock tested the weight and stiffness.
“The rifle is good to go,” Diosa announced as she plucked out one of the big electronic magazines stuffed with kinetic rounds. “Where did you get this beast?”
“We bought a cargo crate last year and the case was in it,” Bagwis answered. “We were going to take it out on the surface and do some target practice on a few relics. I got the magazines charged but we got busy and I put it back in the armory.”
“You have an armory?” inquired Diosa as she tested each of the magazines.
“You’d be surprised what people leave in old spaceships,” Ryo said. “Weapons of all types and ammo. We keep the average ones for resale. It gets weird when we find missiles and bombs. If we can use the missiles in our ground-to-air defense batteries, we keep them. Others we take out beyond the harvesting fields and dismantle for parts.”
“I need a ride to the other barrier,” insisted Warlock while breaking down the sniper rifle and packing it in the case. “That’s where your lines will be hit.”
“Take one of the personnel carts and follow the road that ways,” Ryo directed. Then he added what must be an inside joke. “You can’t miss it.”
***
Four large trucks blocked the corridor. In front of the vehicles, stacks of crates created a barricade.
“I’m Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich,” Warlock said to the man approaching her. She stepped out of the vehicle, turned around and pulled the sniper case from the back seat. “Ryo sent me to give you a hand. Where’s Kaito.”
“She’s at the barrier,” he replied, his eyes opening wide as the stranger opened a case and began assembling a long rifle.
“Take me to her,” ordered Warlock after seating a magazine in the rifle’s housing. With a bandolier of ammo over her shoulder she waved the man in the direction of the barricade.
The man guided her between the trucks then pointed out a woman squatting beside two men with rifles. Warlock waited until the warehouse manager finished, then she marched up to the tall woman.
“Have you taken any rounds?” Warlock asked without introducing herself. “The other barricade has incoming.”
“Who are you?” demanded the manager.
“Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich. And you are about to get hit,” Warlock informed the manager.
“And how would you know that?” inquired Kaito.
“Because Bagwis’ position is engaged and yours isn’t.”
A man at the end of the crates shouted, “The lights are going out.”
Far down the curved corridor, the lights winked out leaving a black veil behind the few remaining fiber optic units.
“Hit the truck lights,” Kaito yelled. The cab doors opened and crew members climbed into the trucks. “They’ll not leave me in the dark.”
“Don’t!” exclaimed Warlock. “The trucks will backlight your people.”
“And without lights, the Luz crew will sneak up on us,” Kaito informed Diosa.
“Let me try something,” suggested Warlock as she held out the sniper rifle. “Let’s see how committed they are.”
“Cut the lights,” ordered Kaito while swiping her fingers across her throat.
The truck lights went out as the last of the overheads went dark.
“Show me something, Alberich,” threatened Kaito. “or I’ll turned the lights on so my people can see.”
“Give me a second,” Warlock’s voice called to the manager.
Kaito spun around because the voice had come from behind her in the direction of the exterior bulkhead.
Warlock lifted her goggle and pulled the buttstock tight into her shoulder. A night scope would be nice but it was back in the case. Using her UV sensor, she let her face drift from left to right. Nothing reflected back so she lifted her chin to increase the range and slowly scanned back in the other direction. From this
distance, the fluorescing teeth were a flash. A momentary glow on the inside wall of the corridor. Without knowing how many were coming, or if the teeth belonged to the lead assaulter or the last one in line, Warlock adjusted.
She lifted a foot and placed it on a crate. This gave her the location of the barricade and the limit of her targeting. Plus, the raised knee provided a stable platform for the rifle cradled in her arm. Once set, she squeezed off three rounds of fifty-twos. Shifting, she sent three more of the big kinetic rings into the dark. When someone screamed, she centered the barrel on the sound, lowered it a hair and put three more rounds on target.
The sounds of boots retreating reached her. As she inserted a fresh magazine into the rifle, Warlock called out, “Kaito. Count off fifteen seconds and light it up.”
“One thousand one, two thousand two,” said the warehouse manager.
Kaito and her crew flinched each time the big rifle fired. On the count of three, it fired four more times. The sound in the dark was terrifying and Kaito wanted to rush the countdown. But she persevered and in a shaky voice exclaimed, “Four thousand four, five thousand five.”
Warlock chased the invisible enemy with four rounds, then she took her foot off the crate. Leaning against the bulkhead with her shoulder, she placed the top of the rifle’s carriage against the alloy. When she felt it was sighted down the wall properly, she squeezed off a round. Rather than the ping of a forty-five, the fifty-two thumped as if large links in a slack chain were jerked taunt.
The round traveled a short distance before clipping the wall, careening across the corridor and impacting the opposite wall. Warlock lightly tapped the barrel and with it a little further from the wall she fired again. Further down the corridor, the round also gouged into the alloy wall before bouncing to the other side. One more tap and she squeezed the trigger. Far down, where the curvature of the corridor blocked vision, the fifty-two ricocheted at a shallow angle and continued. A cry of pain was all Warlock needed to hear. Rapidly, she sent five rounds downrange. From the yelling and cries of surprise, she assumed her volley had been effective.
Fourteen thousand, and Fifteen thousand,” Kaito counted. “Give me lights.”
The truck lights flashed on as well as the overheads. Seems the enemy needed light to care for their wounded.
“Mount up,” shouted Warlock. “We’ve got them on the run. It’s time we finished this.”
Sprinting to where the warehouse manager stood, the Marine pointed towards the trucks, “Never mind the crates. Plow though them. Let’s go people.”
Kaito, with a sour expression on her face, remained in place. Warlock, on the other hand, made gestures with one arm and shook the rifle overhead.
“Master Sergeant Alberich, we are mechanics, shipwrights, salvagers, and traders,” Kaito explained. “If you want to fix bayonets and charge into the guns of the enemy, you should have brought a squad of Marines. Because, believe me, it takes threats and bonuses just to keep my people standing behind this barricade.”
Chapter – 14 The Face of Our Enemy
Ryo Sota’s vehicle slid to a stop. Encumbered by the injured arm and the sling, he struggled to climb out. By the time his feet were on the deck, Diosa and Kaito arrived and stood waiting for him.
“Tell me what happened?” he demanded.
“Alberich and her cannon sent them running,” Kaito reported. “This is out of hand, boss. Maybe we should be talking with them.”
“It’s way beyond anything I’ve ever dealt with,” admitted Ryo. “A sit down might at least stop the gunfire.”
While they talked, Warlock’s PID buzzed. She’d forgotten about it while analyzing the attack.
‘Diosa. Your mother sends her regards,’ read Poet’s message.
‘You are not my mother. Her apple pie is better than yours,’ she replied. Realizing Walden was being cautious in the wording, she asked. ‘Is this channel secure?’
‘Yes, it’s coded. Had to find a backdoor in the Constabulary net to reach you,’ Poet sent. ‘What’s your status?’
‘Fit. I’ve been engaged with forces trying to take over Salvage Moon.’
‘Not surprising. I intercepted communications between the moon base and the Constabulary Navy. A damaged warship is inbound for repairs,’ Poet sent. ‘We need to get to open space and alert the Galactic Council Navy. Advise pickup time.’
‘Negative on the pickup. Enyd Kealan is on the base and I plan to have a conversation with her,’ typed Warlock. ‘I’m staying until the job is done.’
‘Special Agent Eiko wouldn’t like me abandoning you,’ suggested Poet.
‘Eiko isn’t here. Is he?’ she responded. ‘It’s my call. Break orbit and alert the Navy.’
‘Be safe Warlock,’ Poet sent.
‘When is the Constabulary ship due to arrive?” she typed almost forgetting to ask.
‘It made a final course adjustment an hour ago. I estimate twelve hours flight time to the vicinity and another four to enter orbit,’ Poet reported. ‘You have maybe fifteen hours before the moon base is filled with Constabulary Troops and Travelers.’
‘Then I better get busy,’ she typed. ‘Warlock out.’
Turning to Ryo, she asked, “You said Enyd met your crews. Did she meet the one’s out working salvage in the junkyard?”
“We prefer the term harvesting field,” Ryo corrected her. “And no, I didn’t take her into the warehouses or the fields. Why?”
“I’m your new assistant warehouse manager. I’ll need the proper cover and uniform,” Warlock informed him. “And something to replace my goggle.”
“A pair of sunglasses with a welder’s lens on that side,” Kaito suggested. “A lot of our mechanics wear sunglasses. The low gravity is bad for the eyes and sunglasses look cooler than plain glasses.”
“Ryo, contact the Empress sympathizers while Kaito outfits me,” Warlock said. “Then, let’s go see the face of our enemy.”
***
Ryo, Kaito, Bagwis and Diosa passed four armed men. Bagwis nodded and spoke to two of them. They turned left down a hallway where a fifth man directed them into a conference room. Other than the table and chairs, the room was empty.
“Not good,” commented Bagwis. “I knew agreeing to come unarmed was a bad idea.”
“As if we had a choice. We asked for the talk, not them,” said Kaito. “As far as carrying a pistol, you do realize going out to the surface and shooting off guns isn’t the same as a gunfight.”
“You two give it a rest,” urged Ryo. “Maybe Luz and his managers got tied up.”
“Or got busy capturing our last two warehouses,” Kaito added.
Diosa didn’t join in the conversation. Instead, she walked the room, examining the solid walls with the two large monitors, and the single alloy door. High on two of the walls, air vents allowed for a steady breeze. When the door opened, she watched a woman wheel in a cart of refreshments. For a quick meeting, the overloaded cart held more food and beverages than a meeting required. To reinforce the idea forming in her mind, two rifles aimed into the room and remained until the woman backed out.
“I don’t think anyone will be joining us,” Diosa observed. “I believe we’re prisoners.”
“Pablo Luz said he wanted to talk. He assured me that we could reach an agreement,” Ryo said. “I can’t believe he would go back on his word.”
“He did with the cannons, filaments and diodes trade,” Kaito reminded him.
“Maybe your fellow supervisor and Iska Maricor aren’t running the moon base any longer,” suggested Diosa.
“But they still need supervisors and managers to service the ships,” Bagwis said.
“Not if all they fix are Constabulary Navy warships or sanctioned pirates,” Diosa offered. “They’ll only need a few of the salvagers, shipwrights and mechanics.”
“What are they going to do with us?” questioned Ryo.
“Probably make you an offer,” Diosa replied. “Or kill you, if they can find you.”
>
“Find us? We’re standing in a locked and guarded conference room,” Bagwis announced. “Not too hard to locate us.”
“The two guards you spoke with, are they new?” inquired Warlock.
“They’ve been on the base for years. Good mechanics. I can’t figure out why they’ve thrown in with Luz and his gang.” Bagwis replied. “The other three are some of the ones Ryo was telling you about.”
“Three I can handle,” Warlock said under her breath. Then out loud asked. “What don’t we have in this room?”
The three looked at the chairs, table, food cart and the mounted monitors but otherwise bare walls.
“A body washing facility,” ventured Kaito. “There are no facilities in here.”
“Bagwis, call one of your acquaintances and tell him you have to go,” ordered Warlock.
“And when they open the door, we rush them,” suggested Ryo.
“You’ll be shot before you reach the threshold,” warned Warlock. “This is just to get them into a routine.”
“I don’t understand,” complained Bagwis.
“Just call to your friend and beg him to use the facilities,” Warlock instructed.
“Fausto. Fausto. Man, I got to go,” shouted Bagwis. “In the worst way.”
The door rattled as it was unlocked. It partially opened and two rifle barrels appeared pointing at Bagwis’ chest.
Bagwis raised his arms when one of the rifles indicated for him to hold them up.
“Come,” ordered a voice and Bagwis walked out.
The door closed and Ryo and Kaito looked at Warlock as if expecting her to do something.
“What? He went,” Warlock replied to the unvoiced question. “Now, who’s next?”
Kaito went next and the rifles were held lower in a more relaxed manner. When she returned, Ryo walked out to use the facility. The rifle angles decreased even more as the guards became accustomed to opening the door.
Op File Treason Page 10