Shell Game, page 26
part #15 of The Last Hunter Series
“If they do have them, it will become a fight, but we’ve already plucked a significant number of Locusts out of their control,” Amanda said. “The situation isn’t the same as it was when we arrived. This has become a winnable fight.”
“Work with my people and come up with a plan,” Romanoff said. “Derek, I want you to get these Locusts out of our hair. Once that’s done, we’ll sit out here and see if we can draw any more. After all, the more teeth we can pull before the fight starts, the better.”
“I’ll take care of it, sir.”
“I know you will. Once you get back, I should have a plan of action worked out. Good work so far. Let’s see if we can carry this to a successful conclusion.”
With that, both Amanda and Romanoff dropped off, and Derek turned to his communications officer. “Issue them orders to come in close. Tactical, keep our weapons on them at all times. Also, keep sending stand-down orders in case somebody sends a signal from deeper in the system. If we can short-circuit that before it becomes effective, that’ll be a lot better than being shot at while they’re riding so close to us.”
Both of his officers nodded their understanding and got to work. While they were doing that, he turned his attention to Cavanaugh. “Coordinate with Hunter, and let’s figure out the best locations to troll Locusts out to meet us. The goal with that particular mission will be getting them to come to us and identify ships deeper in the system that might have the control codes. If we can eliminate them, we’ll be in a lot better shape.”
“We’ll do our best, sir,” the officer said. “Do you think we can clear the entire system?”
Derek shrugged. “I suppose we’ll see, but as long as we can leave it in better condition than we found it, I’ll be satisfied. Whatever the case, we can’t stay here forever, and if we can turn it back over to the civilians—even the Poseidon Group—that would be significantly better.”
“How are we going to root out all the traitors?”
“Not our problem. We’ll leave that to Confederation Intelligence. Our job is to fight the invasion forces while they deal with the Poseidon Group. We each have our own parts to play, so let’s focus on our lane.”
When his officer stepped away, Derek focused on the screen. They hadn’t won the fight here at DuPont just yet, but they were getting close. If they could keep things from going astray, they’d be in excellent condition to at least pursue the remaining invasion forces. That was what he needed to focus on because if they couldn’t beat the Tardans, then nothing else mattered.
36
Patrick gently brought the cutter down on the hull of the station and attached it via magnetic clamps. Once he was certain it was secure, he shut down its systems and stepped back into the area where everyone else was waiting.
Lisa and the Marines were all dressed in vacuum suits, just like he was. They weren’t the armored kind that the Marines would normally use, but that was all he had aboard. Frankly, they were lucky he had picked up some extras and put them into the cargo area on the off chance that he’d need them. Hopefully, that wasn’t going to be a problem.
They all had weapons—both pistols and rifles—though he wished they wouldn’t be necessary. If everything played out according to plan, there would be no fighting. There was always the off chance that he would have to execute someone, but when moving through an enemy facility and dealing with the chances of discovery, that sometimes occurred. Killing them was easy. Hiding the body was harder.
“Is everyone ready to go?” he asked.
Lisa glanced over at the Marines, who nodded. “Looks like. I’m concerned that we don’t even know how many secret police personnel are aboard this facility. It’s a prison, so there will definitely be armed people. Probably more guards than might otherwise be here, too. The only thing we have going for us is the fact that they have no idea that we’ve arrived. As soon as our anonymity is gone, things will go badly for us in rapid order.”
“You’re not wrong, but you’re not entirely correct either. It matters very little how many guards they have if those personnel are focused on the prisoners. So long as they don’t realize they have intruders aboard the station, they can have as many guards as they want. The goal has to be getting to the life-support center and dosing the entire station with knockout gas. I have nose plugs that will prevent me from being affected, but the rest of you will have to remain inside the vacuum suits for now. Once we’ve dealt with the hostile entities, I can administer an antidote into the life-support system, and things will quickly become breathable again. One step at a time, slow and easy.”
“We’ll be monitoring your channel. If you run into trouble, we’ll come to the rescue.”
He appreciated the sentiment but hoped that never came to pass because if things got to that point, then he might very well get shot in the crossfire. It would be much better if he could deal with the situation covertly. There were risks, but he thought they were manageable. After all, what kind of moron would sneak into a secret police prison station all by himself?
“Understood. I’m not going to give you running commentary while I’m working because I think any transmissions that I make have the potential to be intercepted and make them wonder what’s going on. My microphone is voice-activated, and it will transmit if I speak. I suggest you keep your transmissions to short range. As long as you’re just talking to one another, they shouldn’t be able to pick up your signals that way.”
“Yes, mother!”
He chuckled. “Laugh at me all you want as long as you keep yourself safe. Now, shall we get inside the station and see what we have to find?”
Patrick led them to the ramp at the rear of the cutter and turned on the pumps to move the atmosphere into storage. Waste not want not.
Once the rear hatch was open and the ramp extended down, he led the way toward the airlock he’d selected for their entry. It was a maintenance airlock rather than one that was used for regular traffic, and he didn’t anticipate anyone would need to go out onto the hull of the station at this particular moment. It would be awkward if there were, but he could handle that if the unexpected occurred.
Using a drill and a very small manipulator to insert wiring probes, he was able to tap into the controls for the airlock and bypass all notification systems. As always, it was best if someone didn’t see a light come on the moment you entered their facility.
Once that was done, he did a cursory check for security protocols that went beyond the obvious and found nothing. That really wasn’t surprising because the secret police had taken the station over from someone else. If it had been something they designed for themselves, things would have been different.
Activating the outside airlock door only took a few moments, and he entered alone. Once he was certain the coast was clear, he’d cycle the airlock and allow everyone else inside. If he had to deal with someone, it would have been better if he didn’t have to worry about people behind him.
As he expected, the maintenance airlock led into an area where maintenance personnel kept their equipment for excursions. Not only were there vacuum suits, but there were also replacement parts for transmission systems and even external sensors. It didn’t look like this area saw a lot of traffic, and he’d be shocked if the secret police sent anyone out to do preventative maintenance. They’d wait until something broke and then send someone out to deal with it.
Certain that they were safe for the moment, he cycled the airlock and waited for Lisa and the first of the Marines to make their way in. While they did, he stripped his vacuum suit off and hung it on one of the racks. It was slightly different from the rest of the vacuum suits, but he was confident no one would notice anything unusual. With that done, he searched around and found some ship suits. Hopefully, these were still being used on board because it would be awkward to show up wearing the maintenance uniform of whoever the previous tenant was.
In fact, he’d probably best verify what people were wearing before he changed out of his own ship suit. That would require a little spying, but that was exactly the kind of thing he did for a living. If they used something different, then he would have to waylay someone and take their clothing for his own. Hopefully they would be of a similar size and gender.
“I’m going to go see if these ship suits will work for us. If they will, I’ll be back shortly. If they won’t, I’ll have to waylay someone and take what they have on. If I can’t bring you back suitable disguises, I’ll risk a transmission to let you know what I’ve found. I’ll keep it brief, and since it’s encrypted, no one will be able to hear exactly what I’m saying. Don’t reply because that might lead them to you.”
“Got it,” she said.
He padded into the corridor on socked feet and headed toward the left. That was presumably in the direction of the center of the station based on the layout he’d reviewed. He listened closely as he moved and kept an eye out for any cameras. Since he wasn’t anywhere near the prison, there shouldn’t be any cameras watching him. There were probably some at the small craft bay, but he knew where that was, and he was going in the opposite direction.
He crossed two corridors and finally heard someone talking in the distance. Based on the volume, it didn’t sound as if they were in the corridor, so he risked looking around the corner and found what certainly looked like a series of offices with open hatches. The voice was male and coming from the closest hatch.
Patrick listened carefully and couldn’t hear anyone else in the area, so he took a chance and slipped closer, then poked the end of a fiber-optic viewer around the corner to take a look at what was inside the office.
There was a man wearing civilian clothes seated behind the desk talking to someone over a handheld comm unit. He looked irritated.
“I don’t care,” the man was saying. “The little weasel knows exactly what we’re looking for and if he’s not going to answer questions, then I want you to make an example of him. I understand that you don’t think he knows where it is, but that’s not your job. It’s my decision, so I’m ordering you to handle it. Don’t make me come down there. Am I clear?”
Whatever the person on the other end of the comm said, it satisfied the person enough to where they hung up without saying another word. Then the man leaned back in his chair inside. “I’m surrounded by morons.”
Patrick could sympathize.
Taking a moment to look around one last time and verify that he was probably alone, Patrick put the viewer away in one of his pockets and pulled out a tranquilizer gun. The thing was very short-range, but it was quite effective.
With both hands on the pistol, he edged around the hatch just far enough to bring it to bear on the target and fired. The dart hit the man in the throat, which was just where Patrick had been aiming. The paralytic would keep him from screaming while he subdued him.
Even as the man began thrashing around and fell out of his chair, Patrick vaulted the desk and slapped a cloth across his mouth and nose. It was saturated with a fast-acting knockout drug, which took the man down in seconds.
As soon as that was done, Patrick stepped back to the hatch and closed it. He locked it for good measure.
The office looked like it was only set up for a single person, so there shouldn’t be anyone else strolling in unless they were looking for the man. That meant he was on a tight timetable, and it was time to get busy.
Patrick stripped the clothes off the man and stuffed him into one of the storage areas. He wouldn’t be discovered unless someone was a lot more nosy than he expected. Well, this was the secret police, so they might very well go poking around other people’s offices. If so, that was bad luck for him.
Thankfully, the man was roughly the right size, and Patrick was able to fit into his clothes with only a couple of bulges in places that didn’t look right. It should be good enough for casual inspection, but if he had to deal with someone for a long period of time, it would look like he was wearing someone else’s clothes.
The final thing that he hung on the pocket was the man’s identification badge. Leave it to the secret police to make sure that everyone had badges. That was a plus because it meant that Patrick would have everything he needed to get through security access points, assuming the man was actually as senior as he sounded. Personally, Patrick was willing to bet the man was a mid-level bureaucrat.
He made certain that the badge was flipped around facing the wrong way so that no one could see the picture. That was the nature of badges. They often didn’t sit correctly, and that was to his benefit.
Once he was ready to go, he triggered his transmitter. “The ship suits won’t work. Everyone seems to be in civilian clothes, so stay where you are. I’m going for the life-support center.”
He opened the hatch and stepped out into the corridor. It was still quiet, so he left it open and headed in the direction of the life-support area at a casual stroll. If anyone saw him, they’d see a man going about his business.
Just one corridor over, he passed by a pair of women walking in the other direction and inclined his head without saying anything. They barely glanced at him and continued on. Their clothing confirmed that everyone here was wearing civilian clothes, though he suspected the prison guards were likely dressed in something else.
Once he reached the lifts, he took a moment to check what was on the directory and then stepped aboard one and pressed the appropriate button. This would be a bit more difficult if things went badly, but he wasn’t going to count on failure. Being as bold as brass often worked in situations where one wouldn’t have normally expected it to.
When the lift doors opened, he was back in one of the maintenance areas, and there were three people doing something with one of the pieces of equipment off to the side. These folks were wearing ship suits, and they were stained enough for him to assume they were maintenance personnel.
When their attention turned to him, Patrick waved a hand. “Keep doing what you’re doing. I’ve got to check something. I’ll only be a minute.”
If this was a truly secure area, they would have come to find out who he was and what he wanted, but there hadn’t even been a security scanner by the door. He’d just walked in.
He made a mental bet with himself and was pleased to see that he won when they went back to what they were doing. They’d shrug their shoulders and talk about him after he left, he was sure. At least they would have, though him knocking them out would probably ruin that particular plan.
Patrick reached the life-support setup and took one of the access panels off. He removed a knockout grenade canister from his pocket, popped the spoon, and dropped it inside. Then, he put the access panel back in place.
When he turned around, one of the maintenance people was standing there looking at him strangely. “The hell are you doing?”
It seemed he lost that bet after all.
He smiled at the man. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
“That’s bull. What are you doing with the life-support system? Who the heck are you?”
“I’m an assassin, and I’m here to kill everyone.”
The man gaped for a second, but Patrick had already seen the way his eyes were starting to dilate, and he knew the drug was already making its way through the facility. Since this area was the closest, it was getting hit first. He needed to shut up so that he could breathe through his nose.
The man turned and said something to his compatriots, but it was garbled. Then he collapsed, and they fell over as well. Part one of the plan had gone off without a hitch. Now, it was time to see if Lisa could carry off her half.
37
Jack looked over the plans that his staff had pulled together and shook his head. “It’s too aggressive. While I understand the desire to go screaming deep into the system and see if we can take out as many of the enemy ships as possible, they still have a lot of Locusts they can deploy. We don’t know for certain that there aren’t control codes that will have higher priority than the ones we’ve stolen. When we get deeper into the gravity well, we’ll be committed. I’m not comfortable pushing that kind of risk without seeing how hot the water will get first.”
“What would you prefer, sir?” one of his staff asked. “A more distant location that gives us the opportunity to retreat while still seeing who we can pull in? That’s going to extend the time frame we’re talking about by days. I thought what we were doing here had some pretty strict time constraints.”
“You’re not wrong, but if we’re not going to do this right, we might as well not do it at all. It is an option to leave this system as it is and head for Earth right now. Personally, I don’t favor that because I don’t like leaving Confederation citizens in the lurch. Even so, if we can’t come up with a good plan, then that’s what I’m going with. What you’ll have to do is balance the risk against the reward. The goal is to get as significant an advantage going into this as we can. If that proves impossible, then we’ll scrap the whole idea and withdraw.”
With his people going over everything again, Jack considered the map of the system. The battleships were made for crashing through their enemies and destroying them en masse. This type of delicate dance was more appropriate to cruisers, though they wouldn’t be able to stand up to this kind of fight. In any case, they would have to be creative if they intended to pull this off. All it would take was the enemy deciding that it wasn’t worth the risk and pulling their assets back in and they’d be secure in the inner system. At that point, there would be nothing Jack could do.
The goal had to be to convince them that there was something worthwhile in engaging them. It was dangling bait in front of them and luring them out to fight. He’d seen the estimates of how many Locusts remained in the system, and there were still more than enough to destroy both battleships outright if the circumstances were angled against them.
