Echoes of War Box Set, page 43
part #1 of Echoes of War Series
David smiled. “None was intended, Prime Minister.”
“It’s very true that the balance of power has dramatically shifted. It is also true that government policy takes time to develop and change. Monrovia has had a stated goal of no longer being under the thumb of either of the major human powers. We’ve made great strides toward that.”
“The Terran Coalition simply hopes to work with your people to help them in any way we can, or barring that, be a good neighbor.”
Fitzroy nodded. “A worthy goal, Colonel Cohen. But not one we can achieve overnight. Any steps toward that goal will be slow and steady.”
“I understand, Prime Minister. May I suggest that we meet in person to discuss the situation? I was hoping to avail my crew of your famous hospitality with shore leave.”
“I’d be happy to entertain you and your senior staff, Colonel. Unfortunately, we’ve had some civil unrest recently that will preclude shore leave for your ship at large. I’m sure you understand.”
David raised an eyebrow at the mention of civil unrest. “I wasn’t aware of those issues, Prime Minister, but of course we understand. Should I work with your assistant to determine a time and location for talks?”
“That would be great, Colonel. I look forward to meeting you in the flesh, so to speak,” Fitzroy said, giving off a radiant smile.
“Thank you, ma’am. We’ll be in touch; Lion of Judah out.”
The screen went dark, and David relaxed in his chair. “How’d we do for our first mission not blowing up League ships, XO?”
Aibek snorted. “We’re not done here yet. Have I mentioned I detest politicians?”
“Only a few dozen times this week,” David said in a tone of mock reproach.
“I’ll try to work on that, sir.”
“You do that, XO. Communications, contact the prime minister’s assistant and let’s nail down a time for our next meeting.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Jacqueline Ericksen rolled out of bed as her alarm clock buzzed loudly, announcing that another day was upon her. A major in the Monrovian National Guard, she had a desk job on one of the largest military installations on the planet. Flying through her shower and putting on the uniform of the day, she was in the middle of making a bowl of cereal for herself when a soft vibrating from under the table jolted her out of the usual morning routine. She reached under the table and pulled the communication device from where it was taped to the bottom of the wood, lifting it to her ear.
“It’s a lovely day in the forest,” Erickson said into the comm.
“As it always is after a rain,” the disembodied voice on the other end of the call replied, the proper code phrase in return to hers.
“Do you have orders for me?”
“Yes. We’ve confirmed that the Terran Coalition vessel is in orbit. Your mission is to send the transmission to it, as previously agreed.”
Ericksen’s heart tightened in her chest. I always knew that this day would come because of my position, but I was hoping I’d have more time, or something would change and our leaders would see the light. Too late now for second-guessing. “I understand. Will I have any assistance?”
“We’ve got an asset on the inside that will help you. He’ll make contact in the communications room on base. We’ve manipulated the turnover schedule today, so they’ll be short by two technicians. Between the two of you, I expect you’ll be able to neutralize the remaining technician and send the transmission before the nearest military police contingent arrives,” the synthesized voice answered.
“Is there an egress route?”
After a pregnant pause on the line, the voice replied, “After getting the message out, take local transport off the base. Onsite security personnel should be confused enough not to realize what’s going on.”
That’s absolute BS, and we both know it. “Roger that. What time am I meeting my contact?”
“0930 hours. He’ll be in a green shirt and will use the code phrase ‘Nighttime is peaceful, isn’t it?’”
“I’ll be there,” Ericksen said, forcing the panic from her voice.
“I know this isn’t going to be easy. But it’s the only chance we’ve got left to get help. Good luck. Walk with God,” the voice said with finality.
“Make it count, whoever in the hell you are,” Ericksen said as she hung up the comm. Clearing the cache on the device and erasing its data while she walked to her kitchen sink, she retrieved two bottles of chemicals from under it and poured them into the basin before tossing in the communications link. Mixed together, they formed a highly potent acid that would break down the plastic and metal within to the point it couldn’t be pieced back together—nothing for the secret police to trace back.
Turning around from the sink, she paused in front of a picture of her husband Gordan and herself on their wedding day. A tear formed in her eye as she fought back emotion; she found a piece of a paper and a pen to write with.
Gordan,
Whatever happens today, whatever you hear, know that I love you more than anything and that what I do, I do to save us all. Destroy this note, and I pray someday I will see you again in paradise.
– Your loving wife, Jackie
The letter written, she left it on the spot that he always dropped his commlink and wallet, confident that he would find it. And it shouldn’t cast any suspicion on him if the secret police find it before he does. Before leaving the house, she retrieved her military-issued sidearm and put it into a holster on the small of her back under her uniform. The task completed, she walked out of the house she had shared with her husband for the last five years for what was likely the last time.
Ericksen slid into her automated car, punching in the military base where she worked as a destination. After backing the car out of the driveway and putting into autopilot mode, she sat back with nothing else to do but think. Monrovia wasn’t large enough to justify the infrastructure behind helicars, and so only the very rich and powerful had those. Ordinary citizens had to sit in traffic, and she was no exception.
Reflecting on the task ahead of her, Ericksen recited her favorite passage from the Bible as her electric car zipped through the streets. “Therefore, put on the whole armor of God,” she said, “that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, stand.” Closing her eyes, she finished with a prayer. “God, help me today, give me the strength to do what I need to do, the faith to see it through, and the ability to accomplish my goal if it is your will. Amen.”
She sat quietly in the car through the rest of the drive, fighting down nerves and second thoughts, until the car rolled to a stop at the front gate of the military installation she was traveling to. A young soldier held out a hand scanner as she lowered the driver's side window.
“If you would, Major,” he said in a respectful tone.
Ericksen placed her hand on the scanner, and a moment later, her identity was confirmed. As long as they aren’t actively scanning vehicles and see my sidearm, I’m home free. The private pulled the scanner back and quickly snapped off a salute, while simultaneously triggering the gate to open. She drove through the open lane, and the gate lowered down behind her, the next car’s occupant going through the same process.
The car stopped and parked itself in an open space; suddenly, it was time to act. Ericksen opened the door and stepped out of her vehicle. She walked with purpose into the building that housed the central communications systems and the uplink they would use to talk to the CDF ship in orbit. That’s the plan anyway.
A voice from behind her startled her, causing her to whirl around. “Nighttime is peaceful, isn’t it, Major?”
Ericksen sized up the man that stood in front of her; he appeared to be in civilian attire and wore a green shirt as her handler said he would. “Yes, it is,” she said quietly. “Are you ready?”
The man nodded. “Tanned, tested, and ready, Major. Staff Sergeant Ennis Fuller, at your service.”
Ericksen nodded herself and walked off toward the area of the building that housed the uplink. Fuller fell in beside her. “Don’t let the shirt fool you, Major. I’m special operations certified. Decided it might be suspicious to have two uniforms they aren’t expecting suddenly walk in. I’m your civilian contractor today.”
The smooth assurance in Fuller’s voice, if nothing else, calmed her. Tier one operators were like human machines; whatever else could be said about them, she knew he’d do whatever it took to get the job done, including the sacrifice of his own life if it was required.
It took a few minutes to traverse the distance between the entryway to the building and the communication room that housed the transmitter. Ericksen spent that time mute, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Confronted by a security door that separated the wing they were trying to access, she walked up to it casually and pressed her index finger into the scanner; a second later, the door’s lock clicked open, and they both walked through.
“Uh, Major, tailgating isn’t allowed. That gentleman will need to scan in as well,” a young technician said to them as they walked in.
Ericksen smiled. “I’m escorting a contractor, Private.”
As the technician began to speak, Fuller brought his hand down on the man’s neck in a martial arts move, delivering a stunning blow. He quickly put the young man in a chokehold and squeezed until he stopped moving; it was over in a matter of seconds.
“He’s out cold,” Fuller said as Ericksen walked behind a console and got to work.
After keying in the proper commands and inserting the data drive containing the precious information the resistance had been able to gather, she was ready to execute. “Here goes nothing,” she commented with something approaching a smile, then brought her hand down and pressed the enter key.
All hell broke loose; alarm klaxons wailed, and a red light outside of the security door blinked. “Whiskey tango foxtrot, Major? Did you do it wrong?” Fuller asked while drawing his sidearm and racking the action.
“They must have changed the security protocols,” Ericksen said, her voice high-pitched and full of fear.
Fuller turned around and walked over to her, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her. “Look, get it together, Major. You’ve got one job here: send that transmission. We clear on that?”
Ericksen nodded her head despite her hands shaking in terror. “Yes.” I was a supply officer, not a combatant.
“Now, you got picked because you had the right clearance, and you know how to use these things, right?”
Ericksen nodded hesitantly.
“Look, I’m a grunt. I’m going to stop the men coming here to prevent us from doing our task. You are going to finish this no matter what. Okay?” Fuller said to her in what she could tell was his attempt at being soothing.
“I’ll do my best,” Ericksen finally said, forcing herself to think about the problem and not the fear.
“Okay,” Fuller said, releasing his hold on her shoulders and turning back toward the door. “You stay put. I’m going to deal with the first wave, which ought to be a couple of rent-a-cop contractors that your dog could handle without breaking a sweat.”
Something about Fuller’s easy-going attitude, even in the face of what appeared to be certain death, disarmed Ericksen’s fear. I bet we’d be friends if we’d met before this. He seems like a decent guy. There was a trio of reports that sounded to her like a standard-issue sidearm. As she continued to input commands into the computer system, Fuller walked back into the room carrying a couple of rifles and a handful of magazines.
“Somebody got the rent-a-cops battle rifles. They should have invested in better armor,” he said with a cocky grin. “The next round, on the other hand, will be a bit more difficult. The base’s rapid reaction force should take a couple of minutes to get here, but they’ll know what they’re doing.”
Ericksen looked up from her attempts to access the communication network. “Is anyone else coming to help us?”
Fuller shook his head. “I was supposed to have three more operators with me, but our prime minister’s finest arrested them two days ago.”
“Do you think they knew we were planning this?” Ericksen asked hesitantly.
“I doubt it. Otherwise, there would have been an army here. No, they got lucky… but I’ll tell you this. It’ll take a lot more than Fitzroy’s goons to get my guys to talk. They’d die first. Now, how is it coming?”
“I’m getting there. There’s a new security protocol for using the transmitter. I’ve got to remember how to do real work,” Ericksen said with a forced grin.
“Keep pushing. I’ll deal with the hostiles,” Fuller said as he stepped back out into the corridor that lay beyond the security door, battle rifle up and at the ready.
As Ericksen worked, there were bursts of gunfire, jolting her from her task, but after the first couple of interruptions, she realized that from somewhere deep inside, nerves of steel had taken over. Breaking past the first lockout, she glanced up as Fuller thrust the door open. He quickly stepped through, then turned around long enough to fire a long burst that felled the soldier pursuing him.
“Well, that was fun,” he said, panting and quickly reloading his rifle. “Good news… they’re down four shooters. Bad news… they’ve got eight more out there. How close are you?”
“I’ll be ready to open a channel momentarily.”
“Okay, I’ll hold them off as long as I can. Are you armed?”
Ericksen nodded, reaching behind and drawing the sidearm she had in a holster in the small of her back. “Standard issue 10mm sidearm. I shoot marksman every year,” she said with pride.
“Yeah, you’ll get a chance to try that out against real people that shoot back. Not as easy as it looks.”
The door swinging open interrupted the back and forth; a soldier in full combat gear loomed in the entryway, but Fuller was quick. Before Ericksen could even send the command to her hand to raise the sidearm she held, he had shot the man three times in center mass. The soldier crumpled to the floor in a heap, but there were more beyond. He stepped to one side, braced the battle rifle to his shoulder, and leaned out, firing short bursts that killed several more of the advancing team.
Ericksen screamed as bullets slapped the wall behind her and one grazed her shoulder. Trying to drown out the battle, she focused on sending the last command to the system that would initiate a communications link with the Coalition Defense Force ship in orbit above.
David was in the middle of reviewing an engineering readiness report on the bridge of the Lion of Judah, when Taylor interrupted his thoughts. “Conn, communications. I’m receiving a transmission from the surface, sir. It appears to be from a member of the Monrovian National Guard. It’s garbled, but definitely directed at us.”
“Well, that’s a bit peculiar,” David said toward Aibek, who nodded his large Saurian head. “Lieutenant, put it through to my viewer.”
The flat-paneled monitor above David’s chair snapped on, the picture showing a blonde woman holding a sidearm in a classic shooter’s stance. “This is Major Jacqueline Ericksen calling the CDF ship in orbit, come in!”
“Major, this is Colonel David Cohen, CSV Lion of Judah. How can we be of assistance?”
Shouts, screams, and gunfire sounded in the background of the transmission as Ericksen looked down into the camera. “Colonel, I don’t have a lot of time. I’m transmitting you a message that contains evidence of what’s happening on Monrovia. The important part is you can’t believe what the government tells you.”
“I don’t follow, Major. What’s going on?”
“Some time ago, the government decided on a plan that was approved by a planet-wide referendum to join the League of Sol. As I’m sure you know, the League requires that all citizens pledge allegiance only to the government and to renounce any belief in a higher power. Those of us that wouldn’t comply have been systematically rounded up and imprisoned.”
As David began to form the words to reply, a burst of gunfire was heard through the commlink. A male voice shouted, “I can’t hold them back much longer!”
“There’s not much time left, Colonel. We need the Terran Coalition’s help. Our resistance movement formed too late and has been largely ineffective. They’ve rounded up everyone: Christian, Jew, Buddhist, Muslim… hell, they arrested agnostics for a while if they wouldn’t pledge loyalty. It’s all in the data file. They’re supposedly reeducating those that they rounded up, but any who refuse to give in will be executed. Please, Colonel, save us. The Terran Coalition is our last hope.”
“Major, if you’ll give me your position, I can get a shuttle of Marines down there in fifteen minutes,” David said, his face a mask of anger. Not on my watch.
“It’s no use, Colonel. We’re in the middle of one of the most heavily protected military installations on the planet. This was a one-way trip. We’ve just got to hold out for another…” Ericksen’s voice cut off as a series of shouts, and an explosion occurred off camera; gunshots rang out from close to the microphone, which David assumed was her sidearm yet again. A second later, he heard a woman’s scream, followed by a final gunshot. Moments later, the feed cut off.
“Did that just happen?” David asked, staring at Taylor. “Can we confirm the transmission was legitimate?”
“Well, sir, it came from a military installation on Monrovia. I can’t confirm the veracity of the information, of course.”
“It looked real to me, sir,” Aibek said with what looked like a concerned look for a Saurian on his face, at least in David’s brief knowledge of Saurian expressions.
“Did we get the information transmission she was talking about?” David asked.
“It was cut off mid-transmission, sir. I’ll try to put it back together.”
“You do that, Lieutenant. XO, assemble the senior staff, including Doctor Hayworth and Major Merriweather, in the conference room in thirty minutes. I want to discuss our options.”
