Her voice was soft, but it held clear warning as she pointed to his toolbox. “Those things are a last resort. And only to be used as a distraction, you hear me? Theater, nothing more. A way to buy us time to get the hell out of here if we’re found out.”
Exasperation broke through the wariness at this last. “All right, all right, I get it. No killing any kids.” Grabbing the toolbox by its handle, he straightened.
She held his gaze for a moment longer. Jay was the first to break it.
“I’ll be in touch,” he muttered, eyes downcast. Slipping through the door, he disappeared.
* * *
The devices in the bottom of the toolbox were the only thing occupying Jay’s mind on the way back to the sky park’s maintenance department.
“A distraction,” Petra had said.
Oh, they’ll be a distraction, all right. And some of these…
Jay looked down at the toolbox floating obediently along and smiled.
Some I’ll put to a different use.
7: LIBERTY
Ouray Base, Beryl
Boone was still turning Sergeant Franco’s words over in his head the next morning after PT as he headed back to the barracks. Edmondson lifted a hand in silent greeting as Boone passed by, headed for the showers.
There was a rucksack sitting atop Edmondson’s bed when Boone came back out. The private was clearly packing.
Lifting his chin toward the ruck, Boone asked, “You shipping out?”
The PFC paused, his gaze lifting as he studied a readout only he could see. “Yeah. In about an hour, I guess.”
Boone stopped next to the man and held out his hand. “Luck to you, brother. Been an honor serving our first tour together.”
They shook, and Boone moved on to the corner, where his day’s assignment lay. They still had a lot of gear to check in. The larger items—combat rifles, ammunition, CUSP batteries and the like—had all been left behind on the ship. What remained were the smaller items, like zipties, breaching canisters, LockPiks, and surveillance microdrones. He figured it’d take half a day to catalogue it all.
Boone stared at the messy pile of bags tossed against the front wall and then pulled up the inventory form the platoon’s sergeant had sent him when they landed planetside. He’d use the DD-1149 to reconcile what had been checked out with what remained. It was busy work, but the Geminate Navy required that all its equipment be accounted for, always.
Pulling up a chair, he got to work. He’d just started to sort the sundry bits of equipment when Ramirez and Davila tumbled through the door.
“Woot! Yassss dawg.” Ramirez pumped a fist into the air. “Orders just came in. I’ve been assigned to jump school. Got a whole week to burn between now and then. You know what that means. It’s party time!”
“Not me,” Edmundson grumbled from where he stood by his rack. He looked up from his packing with a mournful face. “New deployment is St. Clair Township, as part of the parliamentary detachment. I have to catch the first shuttle out to the heliopause tonight. Gotta be topside by four.”
Davila looked over at Boone. “What about you, Archangel? You got your marching orders yet?”
Boone shrugged. “Not sure. I have two options. One will keep me here on Beryl.”
“Which two?” Ramirez asked.
“Intel or sniper.”
At Boone’s words, Davila broke into a grin. “Nice! I knew you’d get sniper school, with your scores. Where and when?”
“Fort Weskah, two weeks.”
Ramirez looked envious. “Damn. Wanna trade?”
Davila elbowed Ramirez in the ribs. “You have to know which end the bullets come out of first, dumbass. Right, bro?”
Boone began separating surveillance drone canisters into a separate pile. He shook his head. “Nope. Not touching that.”
The two came to a stop in front of Boone’s table and Davila rapped on it with his knuckles. “Come on. We’re getting out of here.”
Edmondson looked up. “Where you headed?”
“Searcy Sky Park,” said Davila.
“Aw, man.” Edmundson’s tone made it sound as if he’d just lost his dog. “I hear there’s some killer wave boarding up there. The infinity pool makes it look like you’re going to surf right out into the black.”
“Isn’t that the place with the freefall platform dive they call the Sudden Death?” Davila’s hand arced and then plummeted, miming the action. “Boosh. Right into the Pelican Ocean.”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” Ramirez looked bored. “Not interested. Nothing beats boots in the black, slamming and jamming a smuggling ring out in the Atliekas. Hell of a lot more exciting than anything they could cook up.”
Edmundson made a scoffing noise. “No amusement park’s gonna have that kind of EVA as a ride, asshole. Civilians have safety regs.”
“We do too,” protested Davila.
Edmundson threw a wadded-up shirt at him. “We take risks. What’s acceptable for us and what’s acceptable for Suzy Starshine ain’t the same, bro.”
Ignoring the exchange, Ramirez speared Boone with a look. “You skated on us last night, amigo. Not letting you get out of it again today.”
Boone shook his head, reaching for the first surveillance drone cylinder. “Can’t,” he replied. “Too busy.”
Ramirez slapped the canister out of his hands. “Do it tomorrow. I’ve already cleared it with the sergeant.”
Mildly annoyed, Boone bent to pick up the cylinder that had rolled under the table. He felt a tug on his shorts as Ramirez wrapped a fist around the waistband and pulled. Irritated, Boone swiped up the canister and then hastily rose before Ramirez’s efforts ripped the shorts right off him. Not that he was modest; he just had a limited number of PT clothes, and it would piss him off to have to buy another pair.
Shoving the cylinder absently in his shorts’ pocket, he straightened to face the grinning man. “I’m not dressed for it.”
“You’re fine,” assured Ramirez. “You just take those boots off once we get up there and stroll around barefoot. See?”
Davila planted his palms on the table and leaned forward. “Give me one good reason why not.”
Boone hesitated. He had no reason, other than he wasn’t much of a people person, and… Well, he wasn’t a people person.
“You’re not going back home to visit family, are you?”
Boone shook his head.
“Well, that’s settled, then.” Davila straightened. When he moved forward to strong-arm him, Boone gave in. Ramirez had been right; he had ghosted last night and felt a bit guilty about it.
As they exited the barracks, Edmondson’s sardonic voice filtered out to them. “Hey, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“You can’t come anyway,” Davila hollered back. “You have a shuttle to catch.”
As they settled into their seats, Boone felt the weight of the canister in his shorts and groaned.
“What?” Ramirez turned to face him.
“I gotta return this.” Boone rose, canister in hand.
Davila pushed him back down. “No, you don’t. Just hang onto it and add it to the pile when you get back,” he said reasonably. “Besides… You’re not the only one.”
A cunning look crossed his face and he dug into his own pocket. Holding up a small disc, he shot Boone a sly grin.
Boone’s eyes narrowed as the other man began to flip it back and forth, making the disk dance across his knuckles. “Is that—?”
Davila’s grin widened. “A LockPik? Sure is. Ought to gain us access to any of the rides, free. The girls love that kind of stuff.”
Boone’s hand whipped out, snatching the disk from the air. “That’s government property. You can’t go around using it for personal gain, asshole.”
Davila’s eyes narrowed as he shot back, “Who are you to judge? You’re carrying around a canister of surveillance drones.”
“That was an accident,” Boone ground out. “It’s going back on the pile as
soon as we return.”
“Suuure it is,” Davila chuckled and gave Boone a wink. “Come on, man, gimme back the LockPik.”
“No.” Boone stared hard at the man. “You wanted me to come along? Well, this is me. So get over it.”
“Chill, bro. It’s all good.” Ramirez lifted his chin out the window. “Look. We’re nearly there.”
Davila subsided after one last look in Boone’s direction that silently promised retribution.
Boone quirked a half-smile in return. Bring it on, dude. He’d served with Davila long enough to know the other man was mostly bluff.
The sky park looked better from a distance, Boone decided, as he got his first good look at the platform. The closer they got, the more wear and tear he saw on the aged structure.
Davila caught his eye, previous conflict forgotten. “Hey, no worries.” He grinned. “It’s not like this was built by the military or anything.”
Boone lifted a brow. “Name me one single private corporation that doesn’t go with the lowest bid, just like the Navy,” he remarked. “Not much difference, from where I sit.”
“Shit, man, you’re way too serious,” complained Ramirez. “Lighten up; we’re about to score ourselves some fun.”
“Yeah, don’t you want to try the Wipeout?” Davila teased. He laughed aloud at Boone’s scowl.
“Stupid name for a bungee jump,” Boone said.
“A half-kilometer bungee jump,” Davila added. “They reach terminal velocity at that distance.”
Boone gave Davila a flat stare. “No, thanks. We do enough crazy stuff while we’re deployed.”
Davila inclined his head, silently acknowledging that. “Okay, well, this place is more than just the thrill rides. They have a saltwater pool with a decent beach. Imported green sand from An Yang, the works.”
Boone choked. “We’re over the damn ocean. Why in hell would they put a beach up there?”
Davila shrugged as the shuttle came to a stop and he rose from his seat. “Why not?”
Boone followed his fellow Marines off the shuttle and into the sky park. The platform’s twenty-five-kilometer elevation meant they were firmly in the troposphere, and the sky above was as black as space. It also meant the platform needed an ES field to maintain atmosphere. He was relieved to see Searcy’s interior looked a lot more well-maintained than its exterior.
The park was crammed with visitors. Everywhere he looked, people were either waiting for rides, standing in line at concession stands, or hanging out in the water.
Staring out at the infinity pool where its edge met the darkened sky of the horizon, he had to admit Davila was right; it was a neat trick.
By mutual agreement, they ended up at the saltwater pool that did, indeed, have a real sand beach. Boone unsealed his boots, unable to resist, and waded in, beer in hand. He floated on the gently rocking waves and watched as Ramirez and Davila gravitated to a cluster of girls who were taking a day away from their studies.
One of the girls tossed her head back and laughed at something Davila whispered in her ear. Boone caught the look he and Ramirez shared, and then suddenly both men stood and began to lead the girls out of the water.
Boone jackknifed up. “Where are you guys going?”
“Don’t worry, dad. We’ll be back before curfew,” Davila mocked.
Ramirez tossed Boone a sloppy salute, hooking an arm around the brunette beside him. “S’okay, man. We’re leaving you in good hands,” he said with a wink.
“Wait, I don’t need any—” Boone began to protest, but his words quickly died when he felt a hand pull him deeper into the water.
“They said you were the strong, silent type,” a voice purred into his ear.
He started to turn toward the voice, but then he felt a hand wrap around his bicep and squeeze.
“Ramirez said you have to have ice water in your veins in order to kill a man with a sniper rifle from six thousand meters,” a second, breathy voice said. “What’s it like?”
Boone barely managed not to roll his eyes at the bullshit his platoon mates had fed these girls. It wasn’t that he minded the female attention, but damn if he didn’t like being the one who did the pursuit. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to use a lie to gain their attention.
I’m going to kill those grav-suckers… “Look. I’m not a—”
The first girl stopped his words with a finger to his lips. “They said you’d deny it. They said no one is supposed to know you’re an elite Marine sniper. That’s… soooo… sexy.”
Abruptly Boone stood. He’d had enough. “Either of you ladies want a drink? I’m buying.” Not waiting for a response, he waded to shore, feet sinking deep into the wet green sand as he fast walked his way up the dune to the row of tiki huts that lined a boardwalk.
The farther along the beach he got, the more he congratulated himself on his plan. He’d do as he promised and buy them a round of drinks. He just wouldn’t be the one to deliver them. He’d have one of the servers at the bar do it.
Boone completed the order and left the server with the information on where to deliver the drinks. He stepped away from the open-air bar, wondering what else he could do to kill time, when a group of people dressed in park employee’s uniforms caught his attention.
Correction, it wasn’t the people who’d caught his eye; it was the maglev cart they were escorting. The thing was laden with shipping crates that looked disturbingly familiar.
Boone had seen his share of the rugged, reinforced cases the Navy used to transport weapons and ordnance. One of his jobs aboard Callaghan had been to help restock the armory after each engagement.
In his experience, he’d never seen cases shaped quite like that outside the Alliance Navy. They were unique and distinctive. And to his practiced eye, someone had done a hasty coverup. They’d masked the Navy markings on the cases’ sides but hadn’t altered their profile.
I suppose they could be Navy surplus...
As if under their own volition, his feet turned to follow. He shadowed them, debating how to proceed. Pinging Ramirez and Davila did no good; both men had their wires set to Do Not Disturb. Just as he’d concluded he’d have to either reach out to park security or maybe even ping Sergeant Franco back at Ouray, they stopped before a door marked ‘Employees Only’.
Boone cursed softly to himself. He couldn’t lose them, not until he’d confirmed they either were or were not carrying illicit arms…
He sidestepped to a recycling receptacle and crouched behind it. As he did, the weight of the cylinder in his pocket caused his shorts to thump wetly against his thigh.
The surveillance drones.
He retrieved the canister, pressing the activation sequence on its side. It came online, handshaking with his wire. He selected one of the drones and the end of the canister sprang open, a tiny machine rising from its depths. Boone flew it forward, bringing it to a hover just behind the group.
He moved the drone around to see if he could determine what they were using to access the interior, but heads were blocking his view and it happened too quickly for him to be certain. If they had employee access, Boone might have been convinced to abandon his surveillance, reasoning that the cases had to be legit Navy surplus. If he’d spied a lock pick or crowbar in the hands of the person accessing the door, that would have confirmed their actions were suspect.
Without new input to go by, Boone had to go with his gut—which was still telling him something was off. When the door opened and the group with their load of Navy cases filed inside, he made his decision. He held the drone back until the last moment, then sent it darting forward. It slipped inside just before the door slid closed behind them.
Rising, Boone followed the pathway around, casing the area for another possible entrance point. If these people were up to no good, as he suspected, then he wanted a way in, and fast.
He kept one eye on the feed as he walked. Based on the visual the surveillance drone sent, the interior was as plain as the park’s public
area was colorful. The group pushed the cart past closed office doors, coming to a stop in front of a lift. Employees, cart, and drone entered, descending to the platform’s lower level.
By the time they drew to a stop in front of a door labeled ‘Laundry,’ Boone had identified three possible entry points, and had a vague plan to try and duck through the open door after an employee exited.
His attention snapped fully to the feed as they began offloading the cases. When the first one opened, the sight that greeted the drone’s feed had Boone’s jaw tightening. His gut had been spot-on.
Now, what are you going to do about it? he asked himself…
8: AMUSEMENT PARK
Entrance
Searcy Sky Park
Gabe could hear the calypso music playing all the way out at the ticket booth. While they waited their turn in line, he looked around. From where they stood, he could see the tips of two tall arches rising on either side of the platform beyond the outer edge of its ES field. When he spied a figure floating up and then back down again, he realized these were the park’s bungee rides.
The diving attraction was easy to spot; it was housed in a long, squat building just to the left of the entrance, the holodisplays splashed across its surface declaring Searcy ‘the home of the Sudden Death’.
He noticed it had caught Thad’s gaze. The newly minted SRU operator was studying it with a frown, one brow lifted.
“It does grab your attention,” Gabe murmured as Asha handed out tickets to the bright-eyed young teens.
“So does a kick in the balls, ami. Can’t say I’m fond of either one.”
He smothered a smile at Thad’s response. That was quickly forgotten when screams erupted from the crowd up ahead. Gabe tensed and Thad took a step forward, both turning toward the sound. Asha’s head jerked up, eyes alert as she inserted herself between the girls and the direction the screams had originated.
After a beat, Thad relaxed and let out a low chuckle. “I think that was for the poor brave soul who just leapt to his ‘death.’”
Sudden Death (A Military Sci Fi Thriller) (The Biogenesis War Files) Page 6