Battlecruiser Alamo: The Price of Admiralty (24 page)

Forbes looked back out into the storm, "I need to borrow your truck, Granny. I've got some friends out there who need a pick-up."

The old woman sighed, "I expect you'll be wanting them to stay here, as well. Can't an old woman be left here in peace to enjoy her retirement?" She pulled some keys out of a pocket and tossed them to the prospector. "Go on, but watch yourself, and don't get picked up by the Governor's men. I want that truck back."

"You'll get it. Have the coffee on for when I get back." He ran out the door, banging it closed behind him, leaving the two of them facing each other inside.

"Now, who do I have here? Don't worry, I won't bite. Not with these teeth."

Orlova smiled, then replied, "Call me Maggie. I'm a shuttle pilot."

The old woman smiled, gestured her to a chair, and headed over to a cupboard in the corner, pulling out mugs and boxes. "Would you believe I was one back in the day? I'm Coop. Sandra was my name, but my wing-mates always called me Coop. Or Granny, but if you call me that I'll do nasty things to your soul."

"You were a flier? Back when this place was first settled?"

Coop poured hot water into the mugs from a dispenser, dashing in powder to make an unidentifiable but welcoming aroma. "Young woman, I flew in the Australasian Air Force before I left Earth." For a second her eyes were somewhere else. "That was a long time ago, of course. More than a century, I understand. I suppose the fighters I used to fly are all in museums now. They should probably put me in there with them."

She passed a steam-smothered mug to Orlova, who took it carefully by the handle before taking a sip of the warm contents. "Are you aware of what is happening out there?"

"I know that you aren't from this planet. You're from the starship, aren't you? The Alamo?" Surprise dashed across Orlova's face, followed by concern; Coop raised her hand, "Relax, kid. You can't make any bigger a mess of things than anyone else is. What with the Governor on one side and the General on the other. I just hope that Forbes has finally worked out that he can't trust anyone."

"How did you know about Alamo?"

Coop waved at the terminal, "Got myself a tap on the fiber-optic network. This dome's right about one of the primary links, they set it up as a maintenance and supply point. I moved in when they moved out, and a couple of them were friends of mine who 'forgot' to take out the check relay."

Orlova's eyes darted towards the terminal. "Coop, I've got to have access to it. Got to. We're on a mission."

"Everyone always is, my young friend." She sighed, resting her hands on her lap. "What is yours?"

"Rescue a group of Triplanetary citizens that the Governor's holding. He's trying to sell them back to us. What's your mission?"

"Good question. I want all the bullshit to
stop
. Two stubborn old men are tearing at each other over the future of this planet, and neither of them can see that all they are doing is tearing it apart. That old fool Isaac can't get past stuff about self-sufficiency and planetary sovereignty, and that pip-squeak Haynes – who seems to have promoted himself from Major to General when no-one else was looking – is nutso on the democratic process.
With the Loonies happily playing both sides against each other.
"

Gesturing at the rings on Coop's jacket, Orlova asked, "What rank were you? Back in the Air Force?"

The old woman smiled, "I was – hell, I still am, we're all still in the reserve, a Group Captain. Though we've only got two shuttles and neither of them work right, so we haven't actually got any air for me to command. Just a few low-level jobs, VTOL crates. Back in the day I'd have made jokes about flying truck drivers in the bar, now I guess they are all that's left of the RAAF."

"What about the two frigates?"

"Lunar Republic dragged them in. Theoretically they are under command of 'General' Haynes, but in practice I don't think they'd go far without the Republic's men saying so. Those bastards have a ship coming in soon. Few hours."

"What sort of ship?"

"Fast blockade runner. More arms for the General's rebels, most likely. Arrogant blow-hard. I don't think he realizes that he's just dancing to their tune."

"Can you show me where and when? A schematic of the landing field?"

"Sure." She looked at the pilot. "What rank did you say you were again?"

"Coop," Orlova replied, "I can safely say that I am the highest-ranking member of the Triplanetary Fleet in this room." She looked at the information running across the screen, and frowned, "That certainly doesn't mean I'm not going to need help to work out how we're going to pull off this operation."

"I think I can remember enough from War College to give you a hand. Move over."

For the next hour, the two of them poured over diagrams on the monitor, talking tactics and strategy, their drinks hastily swigged in between words. They became so wrapped up in their scheming that they hardly noticed when the door burst open again, Forbes and Hunter carrying Jennings in a fireman's lift between them, Esposito following behind. Coop quickly snatched a medikit out of one of her cupboards and tossed it to Forbes, who began to work on the injured man's leg. Once she was certain that he was being taken care of, Esposito walked over to Orlova, still engrossed in her work.

"What's that?"

The young pilot looked up, "I think I've found us some leverage. A transport's coming in to land from the Republic, carrying weapons. If we could grab it and hold it, then we could likely at least barter them for the return of our people."

"This sounds pretty desperate, Maggie."

"We're down to you, me and the Sergeant sitting in a dome. I don't know what else we can do. Any communications relay capable of transmitting up to orbit is going to be even harder to get at. This way we're hitting the rebels, not the professionals."

Esposito raised an eyebrow, "Just the three of us?"

"
Nine
. There are six
troopers
still in that shuttle, and we could just about get there, rescue the squad, and reach the landing strip in time. I've worked out the route here." She held up a data crystal. "It'll work, Gabi."

The ensign sighed, looking around the room. "We don't even have any weapons."

Coop looked up from the leg as she finished applying the bandages, "Sure we do. Draw under the terminal, Maggie."

Orlova pulled at the draw, and her eyes widened as she looked inside. A dozen assorted handguns of various degrees of lethality, clips of ammunition, even a couple of low-light scopes. Esposito carefully took one of the heavier guns out and checked it over, quickly dismantling it and sliding it back together with a satisfying crack. Hunter picked up a pair of them, looking them over with a practiced eye, and put one in his holster, another tucked into his belt.

"So, we're armed. How long have we got?"

"We need to leave in ten minutes if we're going to make this work."

Grunting with pain, Jennings pushed himself up, saying, "Ensign, this needs to work. My shipmates need rescuing, and this looks like the only way to make it happen."

Esposito looked at the crewman, gasping in pain on the floor, then across at the eager Orlova, already with a gun in her hand, and Hunter, looking out of the window with a crooked smile. Forbes was grinning with glee at the prospect, and walked over to the draw.

"I know the boys they've got guarding them. Most of them, anyway. I reckon I can make them listen to me, and we might even get some reinforcements out of the deal." He pulled out a pistol and a clip, sliding it home with practiced ease. "Most of the outland types aren't that happy about working with the Loonies anyway. Haynes has 'em all fired up with stuff he can't deliver."

"Hallelujah, Flight Lieutenant Forbes sees the light at last," Coop said.

"I didn't know you were an officer," Orlova said, frowning. "One private surrounded by officers and sergeants? It isn't fair."

Esposito smiled, clapping her on the shoulder, "You aren't like any private I've ever met, if that's any consolation." She looked around the room. "Here's how it's going to work, then. We're going to go with Orlova's plan. Coop, someone needs to stay with Jennings, and..."

Before she could finish her sentence, there was a loud crack by her ear; she turned to see a neat hole in the wall.

"You were saying, Ensign?" Coop said.

Jennings laughed on the ground, shaking his head, "Leave me a flask of whatever passes for coffee on this rock and I'll be fine for the day."

Coop patted him on the shoulder, then turned back to the young officer, saying, "I know how to obey orders on the firing line, kid. I've been doing it since before you were born. Maggie's got a good plan, let's get on with it."

She passed around thermal flasks, one to each of them, and left two next to Jennings on the ground, putting a cushion behind his neck. The quintet went back out into the snow, and clambered aboard the old truck; it was a tight enough fit for the five of them, quite how ten of them would manage to ride it to the hangar was another question entirely. Forbes tried to get into the driver's seat, but Coop snatched the keys from him and sat down herself.

"My truck, I drive." She turned to face Esposito. "I'm a terrible back-seat driver. You ready?"

"Let's go."

The engine turned on with a loud purr, punctuated by the occasional alarming rattle, and the caterpillar tracks dug into the snow as they sped away from the dome, crunching snow and rock underfoot. Orlova looked at Esposito, giving her a thumbs up, then settled back to enjoy the ride. The truck lurched back and forth over the bleak landscape, punctuated by the occasional spell of comfort as they moved over flat ice.

It seemed that Coop was determined to give them as a rough a ride as possible, but the route was designed for both speed and secrecy; none of them wanted to engage in any sort of firefight. Even if they won, they'd lose precious minutes. At all costs, they needed to get to that landing field before the transport could arrive.

It then struck Orlova that there was a chance that everything they were doing was pointless; she looked over at Esposito, and her doubts obviously flashed across her face when the ensign responded.

"Relax, Maggie. I figured the same as you, that there's an excellent chance that Alamo will intercept them before they get down on the deck. If they don't, though, then they're going to be damn glad that we were on the ball here. What's the worst case? We've grabbed ourselves an airhead in the middle of nowhere and can get ourselves pulled out, or get the rest of the platoon down here to have a real try at rescuing those prisoners."

Coop tipped her head back towards Esposito, "What sort of a name is Alamo, anyway?"

"All the ships in her class were named after famous last stands. Thermopylae, Alamo, Camerone..."

"Doesn't that worry the hell out of anyone unfortunate enough to be stuck on one of those ships? Not exactly a good omen."

The espatier smiled, "All of them survived the war. Some of them in better shape than others, but they made it home in one piece."

Shaking her head, Coop returned her attention to the road, watching the HUD throw up the occasional warning when the gradients were getting too steep, or they were drifting off the planned route. Forbes was watching the horizon, his eyes glued to the windows, looking for signs of any pursuers, anything at all, and Esposito was watching the sky for contrails.

None of them spoke, all of them preparing mentally for the battle; periodically Orlova clicked on her commlink, but all she got was the same static that had blasted the air since shortly after they'd landed. This continued for half a bumpy, bruising hour until finally Coop killed the motor, bringing the truck to a juddering halt.

"This is where we get out. There's a ridge line just ahead that should give us good cover until we get to within a hundred yards of the old shuttle."

Esposito began to scramble out, but with her hand on the door she turned to Forbes, "Are you sure there is nothing in the way of surveillance this far out?"

He shook his head, replying, "If there was, I certainly didn't install it. We never had any of that stuff to spare. Mark One Eyeballs we had aplenty. Besides, the storms would have smashed them up unless we'd maintained them every few days."

She nodded and pulled the handle, met by the usual blast of cold air, then turned to the sergeant, "You'd better stay with the vehicle, just in case they try something stupid. You hear any problems, come running."

"Ensign, I should really be leading this one," the sergeant said, frowning.

"Just be ready if we need you."

The four of them piled out of the truck, and with as much silence as they could manage, walked up to the ridge line just ahead of the truck. Catching a quick glance over the top, Esposito saw a pair of men, armed with rifles, shuffling around outside the shuttle lock, trying to keep warm. Both them were familiar; the two who had been in the shuttle when they had been there before. She ducked back and leaned over to Forbes.

"How many did you say there were?"

"Just two. How many of them outside?"

"Two. Wouldn't they be inside if they could? Guarding the troopers?"

Forbes smiled. "I bet those apes screwed it up. They've just got your men bottled up, they probably never even tried to take them. What guns have they got?"

"Rifles like that," she replied, gesturing to Coop's weapon.

"That confirms it, then. They'd have got better guns if they could from your men. This is going to be easier than I thought."

The group made their way around the ridge, weapons at the ready, until they were close to the open ground. A straight run would be suicide, Forbes raised his hand and made a chopping motion, signaling the rest of them to duck low into the snow for cover. None of them were ready when he dropped his pistol to the ground, leaped over the ridge and started running down the hill, waving his hands.

They
expected to hear a fusillade of shots, but they didn't come. Orlova broke first, taking a careful look to see what was happening; Forbes appeared to be slapping them on the back, joking with them, though she couldn't make out what they were saying. Coop was next to her, catching her by surprise, and grinned. Hoping that this wasn't simply another trap, Orlova and Esposito followed Forbes, though with their weapons out and ready, while Coop sat in cover with her rifle, ready to loose off a few shots on demand.