Avery laughed. “Well, I guess we all have to grow up sometime. Besides, it would be weird for her to wrestle me into the shower now.”
They both grimaced and then laughed and said goodbye one more time before he walked from the room. He turned the corner and put his hand out to lean momentarily on the wall as the emotions tugged at his heart. He and his sister had come up from the bottom, and with his mother and father both dead, she and Eliza were all the family he had in the world.
Ms. E, knowing his background, stepped out from the room across the hall. She didn’t say a word but simply walked up and wrapped her arms around him to hold him close. He sniffed and still tried to hold the tears back.
“I’ll die,” he told her firmly, “before I fail to guard her with my life.”
“I know,” Ms. E whispered. “I think we’re all on the same page.”
Avery steadied himself and wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes. They headed out to the SUV’s which hovered and waited with their steps lowered for their passengers to board. “Are we going airborne this time?”
Ms. E shrugged. “I don’t like ground travel. It’s so last millennium.”
They both chuckled and he climbed inside and immediately clapped for Stephanie. “That was brilliant. Really. If the whole saving the world thing is over quickly, you can totally make a business out of this. Or perform in the new Vegas. People would die.”
Stephanie chuckled and held her wig in her hands. “Thanks. I think I’ll leave show business to the professionals. But she was really sweet. It was fun.”
Ms. E turned in the driver’s seat and looked back. “All right, hooligans. Since we’re out, I thought we could visit Jackman’s Pizzeria and have a little fun kiddie field trip. If you can behave yourselves.”
They all raised their palms. “Swear it.”
She looked at them suspiciously before she tossed Stephanie some clothes. “Get in the back and change, but you have to keep the wig on.”
Stephanie wrinkled her nose. “Fine, but I get to put pineapple on one of the pizzas.”
They all turned and looked at her. Ms. E raised an eyebrow. “What do you think, boys? Is it time to chuck this one out and start over? She’s obviously very broken.”
The entire SUV erupted into laughter.
Chapter Eight
Somewhere in the deep space between Dreth and the planet Meligorn, a battle was about to begin and things appeared to be heating up. The chilling depths of space formed an ominous backdrop to the confrontation between two Federation Navy ships, one Dreth carrier, and two Dreth cruisers.
There had been covert operations in the past, and this one was supposed to be exactly that. Coming face to face with the enemy in dead space, however, made it a little less secretive and considerably more difficult.
“Three ships, sir. One carrier and her escorts,” the captain reported over the comms. “Yes, they are armed and locked on, but I don’t believe they will fire. They don’t have the luxury of merely replacing a ship if they lose one. And their forces are already significantly smaller than ours.”
He listened to the voice in his earpiece and nodded. “Yes, sir, got it.”
Once he’d hung up the comms, he took a deep breath and looked at the enemy ships on the main deck viewscreen. Their hulls were made of large rusting sections of metal, and they were fitted with old but effective weapons.
If someone didn’t know the Dreth, they would have looked at the situation and scoffed. An easy victory, they would have thought, but the aliens, although not advanced, were ruthless, merciless, and no longer merely pirates. Their resistance to the Federation had grown in leaps and bounds.
The captain turned to his junior commander and pursed his lips. “I want all available four-man teams ready for action. This is no longer a covert action. We need them to get in close, at which time, we will attempt to disable both their major weapon launchers and their comms. All four-man ships will be given precise coordinates for those key points. Teams are to launch when ready.”
The man looked at him, slightly startled for a moment. Without demur, however, he opened the internal comms and pressed the red battle stations button with his other hand.
As the lights dimmed and the red emergency lighting flashed over every doorway, the captain stared out at the huge pile of metal that waited in silent challenge. “The sonsofbitches knew we were coming. They knew it and we walked right into the middle of them.”
He stood at the console, almost frozen as everyone raced around him and followed their orders. The first several fighter pods exited and he tracked them as they adopted a zigzag pattern across the void between the ships.
The Dreth were not ones to stand by and wait and retaliated by launching their own fighters. They were severely outnumbered, but they always had been so this was nothing new. It often gave them the upper hand because they were used to fighting against more numerous foes and had developed ways to use their enemies’ numbers against them.
The first firefight started to the left of the first of the three Dreth ships. Streaks of red light created a web of deadly fire from both sides and the tiny fighters dodged and weaved through the barrage.
One Dreth fighter pod exploded, the sound inaudible and the explosion merely a brief flash of light before the vacuum of space suffocated the flickering flames of disaster. The craft drifted away into the empty blackness beyond.
The commander curled his hands into fists but held them at his sides, worried they would lose men. He reminded himself that the pilots had been expertly trained, and most of the craft were flown by some of the most decorated Federation soldiers in the entire military.
They were in good hands, and the captain had learned a very important lesson after receiving his bars. When you stand on the deck, the only thing you can focus on is your commands. What happens on the field is out of your hands.
“Sir, the first of the four-man covert pods is approaching the port of Dreth ship three,” the junior commander confirmed. “We have their comms on and the video feed up.”
The captain turned and looked at the large, round glowing table in the middle of the room. On it was a 3D video feed of the soldiers’ advance on the Dreth ship. “Who are they?”
The junior commander flipped his finger across his tablet. “We have Jones, Rooster, Brown, and Perry, sir.”
He nodded, walked closer, and folded his arms as he watched the craft draw close to the docking station. They would have to hack their way in, but it would most likely not be heavily guarded considering the distraction out front and the fact that it was simply a non-armored loading dock. Still, they were taking chances.
The ship banked toward the dock and stopped alongside it. Jones, the pilot, spoke over the comms. “Setting her down. Rooster, it’s your go.”
The video feed showed Rooster log into his system and work quickly to override the docking bay doors. Once he had control of them, the men stood, sealed their helmets, and readied their weapons as they hurried to the exit hatch.
The man’s fingers danced over the keyboard, and the door opened slowly. As soon as he had sufficient space, Jones guided the pod in, and Rooster closed the door behind them. Sparks of red light hissed around the fighter as they immediately came under fire.
The pilot set the pod down, moved toward the hatch, and sealed his helmet as he made his report. “We’re under heavy fire already. Loading out and moving forward.”
Those on the command deck sat in silence. Some worked on the current positions of the first Dreth carrier while the others watched, frozen with apprehension, as the four men entered the enemy ship.
The soldiers ran through the hatch, ducked low, and fired as they advanced. The feed was fuzzy but the large bodies of the defenders were visible. They fired on the team from a half-moon formation across the docking bay.
“Take cover and return fire,” Jones yelled.
“Roger that, boss.” Brown chuckled. “These Dreth bitches aren’t warriors, boy
s. They’re warehouse supervisors. Let’s show them who’s boss.”
“Weehooo,” Perry shouted before he ducked and rolled toward a stack of wrapped boxes on top of a wooden pallet. “My momma said this job was too dangerous. What do we tell our mommas, boys?”
They all yelled in unison. “There’s nothing too dangerous for the 703rd, Momma!”
A couple of people within the command center chuckled but the captain maintained an expressionless face and watched as the men eliminated several of their adversaries. He knew there was no such thing as a warehouse Dreth. They were all killers and all warriors, and all had the same distaste for humankind.
The aliens felt threatened by them and angered by the Federation’s interference. But he didn’t give two shits why they were angry or even if there was merit in it. He had an order, and his men needed to get in and out in one piece.
“Captain, we have some progress on Dreth Carrier One, sir,” one of the command-post enlisted called.
The captain turned to look out the window and saw a small, brief explosion on the top of the Dreth weapons deck. The other man nodded. “That’s the second weapons guidance system, sir. Only one more to go on the first ship and their guns will be relatively useless. They will have to resort to small-pod warfare.”
With a nod of thanks, the commander turned to watch Jones’ team advance to where the Dreth horseshoe had stood. It was no longer there but they’d left their dead, and Jones put his fist up to call a halt when they reached the shelter of a low metal barrier and the first corpse.
The captain wondered why they’d stopped until Jones grabbed his knife and cut a piece of the alien’s long dreadlock off. His head lowered, he extended it slowly above the edge of the cover. Shots immediately rang out, and the team was able to locate the source of the volley.
They darted up, aimed over the barrier, and fired their weapons almost as one to eliminate several more of their adversaries. Perry whistled and laughed loudly as he looked at Jones. The team leader glanced at one of the downed defenders—the last one still breathing inside the dock. His spirits sank and he dropped his knife, grabbed his rifle, and aimed at him. He fired a shot, but not before the Dreth was able to pull his trigger a second before he did.
The beam of red light rocketed across the open space and struck Perry in the chest. The man’s smile faded to confusion and he looked down, then traced his fingers along the edge of the hole burnt in his armor.
Jones, crouched low, scurried alongside him and caught his head before it struck the floor. The wounded man looked at him and blinked against the tears that trickled down his cheeks. “I’ll die a hero, Jones.”
“Damn right you will.” He nodded and grasped his hand. “Hold on, we need to get you to a medic.”
He looked up and around for his teammates, then at Perry. The downed soldier closed his eyes and a smile settled across his lips. As he exhaled the air from his burning lungs, his head fell to the side and his body sagged. The other man shook him. “Perry! Goddammit, Perry.”
“He’s gone, Jones,” the captain said into the comms. “You have a mission. Leave him there and retrieve him on the way out.”
Jones gritted his teeth and nodded. “Yes, sir. Men, let’s move out. Perry is gone, and we have to get to the data. Remember, it will be heavily guarded, possibly even secured in a Dreth holding unit. This is some of their most prized information. So, move out with your eyes open, and do Perry a favor—kill as many of these sonsofbitches as you can.”
The remaining two gave the only reply they could. “Oorah!”
They scanned the area for any new threats, but the bay was clear. On the screen in the command center, the feed grew grainier as they moved deeper into the vessel. The video flashed and fizzled, and the comms guys tried frantically to boost the signal.
After a few moments, the feed went completely dead and was replaced by three small dots that moved through the infrastructure of the Dreth ship. It was better than nothing but nowhere near good enough. The comms officer looked at the captain and shook his head. “It’s out, sir. They’re too far in. We’ve lost the live feed and can’t boost it.”
The Captain nodded. “We knew it would go eventually. Those boys are on their own now. Let’s hope they get the data. It’s the only thing we care about at this point.”
“Command Center, come in,” Jones whispered and tapped the side of his helmet. “Come in.”
He looked at his teammates and shook his head. “It looks like we’re on our own at this point, guys. Keep your eyes open and assume that every time a door opens there will be fifty ugly-ass Dreth on the other side waiting to shoot you. We have to reach the target location. If you are the only one left, leave the rest behind and get that data. Plug it into the port on your arm and set it to broadcast the minute it can. Remember, Dreth can’t wear our gear. They’ll space it at the first chance they have. When they do, someone will pick the signal up. Copy that?”
“Copy that,” Rooster replied.
Brown cleared his throat and glanced at Perry. Jones could see the wild look in his eyes and knew the man was close to coming apart. Best friends since boot camp, Brown and Perry had been closer than brothers. Brown had always taken care of the other man and kept his dumb ass out of trouble as best he could. This time, they’d simply been too far apart.
Before the team leader popped the door lock to the inside, he grabbed Brown by the helmet and tapped his comms to connect it. “Get it together. Perry died a hero. His momma will be proud and there was nothing you could do to change what happened. You want to keep his memory sacred? Then don’t mess this up. He died for that data, so we’d better retrieve that information and get it to the commander. Are you with us?”
The man blinked and met his eyes. He held his gun up, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. “I’m with you. All the way to the bottom.”
“And back to the top.”
They readied themselves and tucked slightly to each side of the door. Jones released the lock and the doors slid open. Red streaks of light hurtled past them and struck the boxes stacked inside the docking station.
Rooster turned the corner quickly and released a volley at the three Dreth who faced them. Jones joined in and then Brown, who walked forward with no attempt to maintain cover and targeted the enemy in the middle. He hit an arm, then a leg, and his adversary fiddled desperately with his gun, which had obviously malfunctioned and jammed somehow.
The man marched forward without thought and directly up to the alien. In one smooth movement, he slammed the butt of his gun under the Dreth’s chin and the blow toppled him. The soldier grasped his rifle tightly and pounded the weapon into his opponents face repeatedly until his team leader walked up behind him and put his hand on his shoulder. Brown stopped, breathing heavily, when he realized his opponent was well and truly dead.
The teammates had killed the other enemies with their precise fire, and Rooster walked up beside them and looked at the battered face. “That might actually be an improvement.”
They continued their progress through the ship and encountered adversaries at every turn. The beacon in their helmets flashed red to direct them exactly where they were supposed to go. As they moved closer to the target area, all three ducked into a side hall and maneuvered away from the oncoming fire.
Jones retrieved a implosion grenade. “They are noticeably thicker the deeper we go in,” he said and adjusted the power of the grenade to a lower setting—enough to obliterate the Dreth but not enough to blow the hull off the ship. “We know we’re going the right way, then. Are you boys ready for this?”
Rooster nodded and Brown tapped the barrel of his gun to Jones’. The team leader turned, hid behind the edge of the wall, and lobbed the grenade. They heard it bounce down the metal walkway and the Dreth yelled something loudly in their language.
Shortly afterward, a high-pitched whine was immediately followed by a violent shudder. The team ducked their heads and pressed against the wall that
provided cover. They felt the pull of the implosion as it sucked the Dreth inward before it evaporated.
Jones peeked around the corner, nodded, and held his thumb up. They stepped into the corridor and hurried along it to turn right into the next hallway. The team leader was in the front, followed by Brown, and Rooster brought up the rear. As they paused at the end of the next hall, Jones’ eyes shifted. A sound echoed in their voice monitors. Slowly, he turned and his teammates followed suit.
Rooster’s eyes widened as he came face to face with one of the Dreth. The enemy thrust a knife deep in his belly, and the soldier’s mouth opened in a silent scream. All that emerged was blood. With the last of his strength, he raised his gun and pulled the trigger to half-sever his attacker’s head. The alien crumpled and Brown grasped hold of Rooster and dragged him back. The wounded man managed to get his feet under him and looked down as he touched the handle of the knife that protruded from his gut.
Jones looked at it and his gaze shifted knowingly to Brown as he spoke to Rooster. “Keep the knife in you. Don’t pull it out. We’ll get you in and out with us. Can you walk?”
The man swallowed and blood trickled down his chin. He tried to talk but he couldn’t, so he merely gave him a thumbs-up. Jones patted him hard on his shoulder. “Good man. True hero.”
The leader took a deep breath and turned, and his face showed the strain of the loss of his team. His focus returned to zero in on the map again, and he was relieved to discover the door they wanted directly ahead of them. “Brown, you hold onto him. I’ll wire the door open.”
The other soldier put his arm under Rooster’s shoulder and helped him along. They stood on guard outside the door and covered Jones as he worked carefully but quickly to remove the panel from the security system. He disconnected the wires and held the screwdriver between his teeth. Brown shifted uneasily and adjusted his hold on his wounded comrade. “I don’t know, boss. It’s awfully quiet out here.”
Witch Of The Federation (Federal Histories Book 2) Page 9