by Jan Domagala
OMEGA
Col Sec 2
OMEGA
Col Sec 2
Copyright 2012 by Jan Domagala.
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Fourth Edition 2018
Cover design copyright by
Jessica Tahbonemah of
Magic Quill Graphics
2018
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any
person, institution or organisation alive or dead is purely
coincidental.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
Foreword
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
EPILOGUE
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Acknowledgements
I would like to dedicate this, as always to my family and my best friend and partner Joy, who have given me all the loyal support required to keep me going through the bad times as well as the good, thanks guys I love you all.
I would also like to thank all the writers who have inspired me to put my ideas down – Jack Higgins, Matthew Reilly, Clive Cussler – to name but a few, the list is endless. Thanks guys for the hours of pleasure I’ve had reading your work. I just hope I can impart some of that to anyone who reads this. Hope I don’t let you down guys and keep up the good work. Also I would like to thank Vivian Head from Bookscribe.com for her wonderful work on editing and her support too, her faith in my ability as a writer helps me do this and finally to Jessica Tahbonemah for the cover art, her talents are endless.
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Jan Domagala
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Foreword
By the mid twenty-fifth century, after decades of war over the colonisation of planets between the Colonial Confederation and the Elysium Alliance – an alternative to the government of Earth – an uneasy peace was reached and a cold war prevailed.
The events of this story are set a few days after those depicted in Ronin. Things have started to settle down again between the Colonial Confederation and the Elysium Alliance, the status quo had returned.
1
The entrance to the chamber was dark, shrouded by shadows. He’d dropped into the area by parachute and made his way to the chamber overland by foot until he arrived at his destination.
Reporting back to the drop-ship via a combat channel accessed by his Neural Interface he told them he was on station. His mission was to infiltrate the chamber that Intel had told them was the base of a terrorist cell planning on attacking a Col Sec base, then report back on the conditions there so that the squad of Recon Delta marines who were waiting on board the drop ship could be deployed.
Wearing a jump suit incorporating the Rapier battle helmet with a full face visor attached to the jumpsuit’s main breather unit in the back pack holding the retracted parachute, he blended in well with the shadows the night had brought. He had a Mk II Remm assault rifle that he held at high port ready to bring up to his shoulder to sight at any target that presented itself, and under his left armpit was the standard issue Sig P996 pistol. On his left forearm was strapped the Howell combat knife which completed his armament.
His NI had connected with the computer in the Rapier, which gave a HUD that showed all relevant data pertaining to his present mission, such as weather conditions, ground conditions and com. channels which were established before the drop.
The chamber was underground and the entrance before him was left unguarded which he thought strange. Did that mean they were too late and the terrorists had left, or that the Intel was false and they had the wrong location? Or maybe they were walking into a trap.
There was only one way to find out. He had to go on into the chamber to learn the answer.
“I’m going forward into the entrance. Will report back my findings as soon as possible,” he said, sub-vocalising so that he couldn’t be overheard by any concealed mic or anyone hidden from view.
Bringing up his Remm assault rifle to his shoulder and sighting down the barrel he stepped forward into the shadows of the entrance.
The entrance itself was an arch just over seven feet high so he didn’t have to stoop down to get through. Aiming his Remm assault rifle ahead of him he proceeded down the dark tunnel, his Rapier battle helmet automatically switching to night vision so that the ambient light was ramped up and everything seemed to be bathed in a greenish glow.
As he got deeper into the chamber he began to hear what sounded like voices coming from further within.
He advanced cautiously; acutely conscious that he had no cover now that he was in the chamber heading for the main section. If anyone came out towards the entrance they were bound to see him.
Slowing to a crawl, he carefully continued forwards aiming his Remm assault rifle ahead of him ready for any sign of a terrorist approach.
The chamber suddenly opened out before him into a cavernous area. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the reason behind the voices he’d heard.
Before him in the centre of the chamber was a small table set up with a monitor on top of a computer terminal. Around it were various pieces of equipment, which he couldn’t quite make out because of the distance between them. They were being obscured by the two guards with assault rifles who were on a constant vigil over the man between them, who was talking to the face on the monitor screen.
The moment he saw the two guards he dropped to the floor on his stomach with his assault rifle stretched out before him as he sighted down the muzzle. He was confident that his presence had gone unnoticed by the guards. At that particular moment he was more interested in discovering who the third man was.
Before setting out for this base he had viewed all the files pertaining to the terrorist cell he had been told operated from there, and so far he had not recognised the stranger.
Admittedly, at that point he had only seen the back of the man’s head and a partial glimpse of the side of his face, but from the files he knew the size and shape of the main players and, although this man looked and acted like a main player, he wasn’t on file as one.
Even though his Rapier helmet boosted the sound via a directional mic he could still only hear snatches of the conversation.
He had to get closer.
First he had to report in his findings and he had to do it without the guards’ knowledge. Sub-vocalising to prevent them from hearing, he said, “I have visual on two armed guards and one man who appears to be in charge. He is in contact with another via a computer link. No others have been sighted at this time.”
“What action is being taken?” asked the commander of the mission, Colonel De Boer. He stood six feet three inches tall with a strong, lean body honed through hard exercise during his many years in Recon Delta. Blond hair that was almost white and a strong jawline harked back to his Dutch ancestry, as did the steel blue eyes that watched his men avidly from a rugged face that rarely smiled. He was a veteran of the Recon Delta marines and someone who through his career had gained the trust and respect of the men who served under him. Those above too, especiall
y General Sinclair who was in command of all the Recon Delta marines’ missions as well as being the head of the Intelligence Division of Col Sec. Sinclair personally picked De Boer to command this mission and he had also chosen the operative who was on the ground at the moment, at the sharp end as it were, Captain Matthew Hawk. It had been Hawk who had commanded the rescue mission that brought Kurt Stryder back from Alliance space a few days previously and since then he had been back on Earth, filing reports and being debriefed over that particular mission.
This was his first chance to get out of the office and see some action since then.
“None that I can see at this time. The other seems to be talking with someone through the computer link via a monitor. I can’t make out what the conversation is about but it seems important,” replied Hawk.
“Okay, keep me informed of any developments, stay on station while we decide what action to take,” De Boer said and broke the connection.
“I don’t seem to have much choice in the matter just now,” Hawk said to himself sarcastically.
The guards must’ve been using a scanner set on infrared because they suddenly seemed to become aware of his presence near the entrance to the chamber. One of them turned to speak to the man who was talking through the computer link and said something Hawk couldn’t quite hear, but the meaning was explicit, they had found an intruder.
The third man, who was clearly in charge, beckoned for the guards to take care of the situation and they began to advance on Hawk’s position.
“I may have a spot of bother here, I think they’ve found me,” Hawk sub-vocalised through the com. link.
“Do not; I repeat do not engage or give away your position until we have secured the location. We have your back-up routed to your location and will be there in ten minutes, until then you are ordered to stand down. Is that clear?” replied De Boer.
“Perfectly sir,” Hawk said, but De Boer perceived the lack of conviction in his words.
“Don’t do anything rash and jeopardise the mission Captain Hawk. I’ve heard of your reputation, so I know what you are capable of. Follow your orders,” he said.
“Gotta go, got two guards bearing down on me,” Hawk said. Quickly looking around for somewhere to conceal himself from the guards he realised there was nowhere, especially if they had located him with a scanner. Wherever he went they would find him and before the ten minute deadline.
“Aw fuck this,” he said and, standing up with his assault rifle held against his thigh, he said, “Hi guys, you looking for me?”
The two guards turned to look at him but before they could bring their weapons to bear on him Hawk had opened fire on them. He fired two rapid bursts of three shots, one for each stationary guard. The plasma bolts struck each man in the chest and travelled upwards as the recoil forced the muzzle in that direction so that the final shot struck each guard in the head virtually blowing it apart. Both guards were sent flying backwards in a mist of blood to land on the floor of the chamber, dead before they hit the ground.
“Freeze!” Hawk shouted as he aimed the Remm at the third and final man in the chamber.
The stranger slowly looked over his shoulder and Hawk saw utter contempt in the opaline green eyes. The face that had turned to him was striking in that it was completely average and symmetrical, there was nothing out of place and both sides looked identical, which made him appear odd somehow. The hair was dark and straight, cut in a military fashion, which was short but not too short. He was wearing a dark business suit that looked completely incongruous to the situation and surroundings.
After the short glance the stranger returned his attention to the monitor as if the command was merely an annoyance.
Hawk strode up to the stranger, who continued his conversation via the computer link. Hawk slapped his left hand on the man’s shoulder whilst keeping the assault rifle aimed at the back of his head. To facilitate this he had to turn sideways slightly to reach forward with his left arm.
“I’m talking to you,” Hawk said and spun the man around to face him. The assuredness of the stranger was quite unnerving and Hawk began to wonder if there was something he’d missed. What made this man seem so confident that he was not in any danger, he wondered?
The stranger simply smiled at him then calmly placed a hand on the muzzle of the Remm and slowly moved it away from his face.
“You’re not going to hurt me, you need to know what I know,” the stranger said in a voice that was calm and measured and had a pleasant timbre to it. There it was, the answer to Hawk’s unspoken question. That was why the stranger was so sure that he would not be harmed; Col Sec needed what was inside the man’s head so they would do whatever was needed to keep him safe and alive.
“Situation secure. Have one captive, no other hostiles present. I shall transport said prisoner to your location for immediate transport to Col Sec for debrief,” Hawk said, so that the stranger could hear. The moment the words had left his mouth the stranger’s mouth curved in a satisfied smile. Hawk began to wonder if what he was about to do was such a good idea after all.
2
Hawk was met at the rendezvous point by the squad of Recon Delta marines who had just debarked from the drop-ship. They all went back on board and the drop-ship took off to return to the cruiser that was in geostationary orbit around the planet. Within a few short moments the cruiser had made the jump to hyperspace en route back to Earth.
Colonel De Boer was not happy about Hawk disobeying a direct order but chose to do nothing about it considering he hadn’t had any choice but to act. His decision was tempered by the fact that they seemed to have completed the mission with no casualties and had come away with a result that could be quite beneficial to their fight against interstellar terrorism.
Once the cruiser had completed its jump through hyperspace they were soon in orbit around Earth and the prisoner was being transported down to Col Sec HQ in New York on the site of the old United Nation’s building from centuries before. Now it was the centre of the Colonial Confederation.
The stranger, who had refused to divulge any information about himself whilst on board the cruiser, seemed to perk up on their arrival. He appeared to be quietly confident at the prospect of being in the HQ of Col Sec with no prospect of escape. Colonel De Boer led the squad from the landing pad at the spaceport to the interior of Col Sec HQ. Hawk went with them, even though his part in the mission had ended, as he was intrigued to learn what could be gleaned from the man he had captured.
Once in the interrogation room in the basement of the huge building, the stranger was ordered to sit down in the chair provided. It was behind a simple desk that had one more chair on the opposite side. Hawk stood in one corner of the small room leaning his six feet six frame against the wall, his muscular arms folded across his broad chest and his ice blue eyes intently watching the events unfold.
Two of the Col Sec security guards stood behind the stranger as they all waited to see who would take charge of the interrogation.
The door slid open and a man walked in; a man they all recognised.
“I’ll be taking over this interrogation myself,” said General Sinclair. He was still ramrod stiff in his mid-fifties, no doubt from his many years in Col Sec. His brown hair was receding from a high forehead into a widow’s peak, below which his deep brown eyes were unfathomable. His habitual stoic expression gave nothing away as he looked at the man before him. “You were scanned the moment you entered the building and we found some amazing facts about you. We don’t know who you are yet, but we do know that you are a clone of whom we have no idea but we will find out,” he added.
The stranger sat back in the chair and his face split with a wide grin.
“Perhaps I can help you out, fill in the blanks as it were,” the stranger said, his voice almost a contemptuous laugh.
“Have no doubt about it, you will tell us everything we want to know. This is just a chance we are giving you, the only chance, to divulge what we want to know b
efore we force it out of you,” Sinclair said, mistaking what the stranger said.
“It’s quite amazing that you think you captured me, but I can assure you Omega planned this in every detail,” said the stranger with amused contempt.
“Omega? What or who is Omega?” asked Sinclair.
Hawk pushed himself off the wall and went to stand by Sinclair. “Planned this? This Omega planned for you to be brought here, is that what you’re saying?”
“You have no idea who we are, do you? We are everywhere, we know everything about you and yet you know nothing about us,” the stranger said, looking straight at Sinclair. He then turned to look at the guard at his shoulder and said, “Isn’t that right?”
The guard took out his side arm, a Sig P996, and shot the clone in the head spraying blood and gore over Hawk and Sinclair standing opposite him. The clone fell forwards like a rag doll onto the table, stone dead. The guard then turned and shot the other guard next to him in the head also, the bolt pulping the man’s head, throwing him sideways to hit the wall spraying blood on impact.
Hawk saw the guard adjust his weapon and pushed Sinclair to the floor as he drew his own Sig P996. Hawk landed on top of the General, shielding him as the guard fired his weapon. Hawk aimed at the guard but couldn’t get a clear shot because the table was obstructing his view.
Pulsed plasma bolts struck the table blowing bits of it away as the guard tried to get a clear shot at the two of them lying on the floor.
“Sir, we have to make a move to get you out of here and fast,” Hawk said urgently.
“What do you suggest Matt, he’s got us pinned down pretty good?” Sinclair asked quite calmly. He knew he was in good hands with Hawk.
Seeing the guard’s legs beneath the table, Hawk quickly took aim and fired a low power shot at his right leg. The plasma bolt struck him and, instead of blasting through the flesh down to the bone, it disrupted the nerve pathways effectively paralysing the leg.