Strong Arm Tactics (19 page)

Chapter 11

Wolfe had answered the summons with alacrity. The executive officer wished to see all of the unit commanders on board, at 1100 hours in the briefing room. Wolfe had gulped his lunch without tasting it, and arrived more than fifteen minutes early out of sheer excitement. All of his wardroom colleagues were present, all spring-loaded with the energy that went with the anticipation of action. At last they were going to receive their assignments. Wilbury caught Daivid’s eye and gave him a fierce grin. This was what they were all there for. The ship’s officers sat in a row against the front wall. Behind the podium Executive Officer Cleitis cleared his throat.

“I know all of you have been waiting a long time for gen on the upcoming missions. Captain Harawe and the command staff of the
Eastwood
have been acting under sealed orders until now.”

A few of the officers glanced at one another. The Captain’s voice came from the back of the room.

“We have had suspicions that there is a leak somewhere in the operation.” All heads turned to track Harawe as he stalked forward towards the lighted dais. “To that end, there has been a controlled release of information, including misinformation on the subject of the trade ships and our escort service. In other words, we let it out that those ships were going naked. Since it panned out that there was an Insurgency attack on the flotilla, word is coming from somewhere, but since you all knew about it and the Surgies came anyhow, you’re all in the clear.”

Wolfe raised his eyebrow. Harawe couldn’t be as naïve as that. He personally knew twenty-three ways to extract data while appearing to be in another place. It had been part of his upbringing in the Family. At the time he’d thought it was cool. He suspected that his unit could amass another twenty-three hundred among them, if it interested them at all. He also knew half a dozen historical examples to prove that it was possible for one side of a war to sit on a piece of information in order not to give away the fact they had spies on the other side. Harawe seemed to divine his thoughts.

“The actual info was never on this ship, Mister New-in-town,” he said, biting off each syllable. “I received my briefing in person at a remote location. The test message released aboard the
Eastwood
has not been transmitted or recorded, but the break showed through elsewhere. It could not have come from one of you. The spy has been identified. So it is time to give you your assignments. Cleitis?”

Subdued, Daivid sat back. Harawe had his number. He wasn’t seeing the bigger picture. Lt. Ti-Ya was right about the captain being a careful man.

The ascetic XO took his place behind the desk. “Commander Christophle.”

“Sir!” A tan-skinned woman of thirty or so with very dark lips responded alertly, turning interesting caramel-colored eyes forward. Wolfe admired the length of her black lashes. On the screen behind Cleitis, a star map appeared. The point of focus zoomed in on a small primary star, red-orange, with orbits marked out for five planets, two of them gas giants, and two of them small rocky worlds spaced out in between.

“When we break into normal space, you will take the number six auxiliary. Admiral Banks awaits you. She is reestablishing TWC control of the Nonnen system, now that she’s driven the damned Insurgents out of there. Because of the diversion we’re a couple of days later than she was expecting, but that’s war. You’re relieving Commander Harris Boone, who’s going back to Central Command for debriefing.”

“Sir!” Christophle’s eyes shone. He signed to her to turn her infopad toward his aide, who would beam her site maps and more detailed orders.

Wolfe envied her. He’d heard of the siege of Harrim, Nonnen’s capital city, a domelike space station orbiting a gas giant at 2 a.u. from the Nonnen primary. The pirates had taken over several of the smaller city-domes and were holding them hostage, trying to force the Nonnen government into surrendering. Banks had managed to stretch the navy forces she had brought with her to attack on several fronts until other Space Service ships had arrived to assist. It had been said there wasn’t one trooper on board who hadn’t been decorated. The pirates, somehow not getting the message, had kept trying to retake Nonnen. Someone, maybe the legendary General Sams herself, had decided it was too important to lose, so there continued to be plenty of action. Daivid gave an imaginary one-two punch to Sams, thinking what he would do if he had been in Banks’s place.

“Lieutenant Wolfe! There’s no need to dance about it. You’ll get your own assignment.”

Harawe’s voice brought him sharply back to reality. He felt his cheeks burn as the other officers chortled to themselves. Daivid shrugged. Couldn’t blame a guy for dreaming.

“Taith,” Harawe turned to an itterim sitting at the end of the briefing table. “Your force and Cosimi’s,” he nodded to a human male with short-cropped blue hair, “are going to be dropped off on Belmont Station. You are relieving two units who are due for leave. You’ll carry on with resettling the refugees who are returning, now that the eruptions have ceased. You won’t find it onerous. It’s mostly traffic control at this point.”

“Ossum,” Itterim Taith enunciated, with a click. Belmont boasted a T-class world with gravity .85 that of Earth. Daivid had friends who had gone there on vacation. The dramatically rocky terrain was a climber’s dream, and the lighter gravity meant their muscles could take them that much farther. He listened as Cleitis doled out assignment after assignment, each sounding worthy as well as exciting. He tried to hold out hope for a mission with similar promise of glory, but every one of the commanders around him had far more experience than he did. Nor did their units suffer from the reputation of being the worst in the Space Service. His heart had sunk deep into his boots by the time the XO turned to him, last and least.

“As for you, Lieutenant Wolfe,” Cleitis began, a saccharinely sweet smile on his face, “we’ve got a nice, easy little mission for you. It’s a cream puff. I am informed by your CO that you have only been in command of X-Ray Company for about twenty days now. This will be a mild breaking-in exercise for you.”

“Aye, sir?” Daivid asked, suddenly wary. This was when they told him that the Cockroaches were being sent into the heart of a high-radiation zone to extract the 1% remaining useful ore from the bottom of a seventeen-kilometer-deep shaft. He hoped he’d have a chance to send one last missive to his mother before his skin began to peel off in strips.

“Yes, my boy. You’re going to thank CenCom for this from the bottom of your green little heart. Your unit has been especially chosen for the job because of your … low profile. You are tasked with going into a small town on a well-to-do world in a non-combat zone and retrieve a single piece of technology and the data to run it. Then you will be extracted. Three days, start to finish. The Eastwood will drop you, hang off world in concealment in the heliopause, then come and get you and your objective. Is that clear? Even your unit should find that hard to screw up.”

“Aye, sir,” Daivid replied, puzzled. Where was the part about mortal danger? Where were the enemy forces? “I’ll need maps and briefings on the site, and the intel on the unfriendlies.” He started to extend his infopad toward the XO, when Harawe held up a hand.

“He hasn’t got anything for you, Wolfe,” the captain said, with bleak satisfaction. “I do. Here’s your target information. Enjoy.”

He dropped a sheet of plastic on Daivid’s desk. As soon as it hit the surface, the video data printed into the plastic gathered enough static electricity to activate. A miniature Ferris wheel erected itself and began to turn. Roller coasters lined the perimeter. In the center a crenelated keep of bright orange towered over all. Tiny figures in astonishingly colorful detail joined hands and danced around the brochure’s perimeter. Tinny voices broke into song. The other officers stared at it, then at the captain, then at Daivid, who was gawking at the images with his mouth open. The officers present all protested at once.

“He gets to go to
Wingle World
?” Taith squawked, his mandibles opened wide in outrage.

“Sir, does CenCom know about this unit’s reputation?” Varos broke in. “I … this … couldn’t this be considered a mismatch of mission and, er, resources.”

“Hey, we’ll do it,” Cosimi said. “X-Ray can go rappel down cliff-faces. We’ll take the amusement park.”

Heedless of the heated protests around him Daivid gazed in pleased astonishment at the animation. Wingle World! He hadn’t been there since he was nine years old, over half his lifetime ago. Wow. He had always been a big fan of the Bizarro Twins, a couple of happy-go-lucky wolves or foxes or something of wild canine descent with purple fur who were always getting into amusing trouble. During games of make-believe he had tried in vain to convince one or another of his sisters to be the other Bizarro Twin so that they could act out the capers he saw on threedeeo animations. It had been a happy day when his father had packed off his four children in the care of an army of minions to go for a jaunt to Wingle World. They had been there almost a month, staying in the on-site luxury hotel, dining on room service or having special meals with the characters (who were threedeeo animations, people dressed up in anthropomorphic-animal costumes or AEROs, Animated Electronic RObots, a Wingle trademark), watching shows and parades and fireworks displays. He had been the envy of his schoolmates when he had returned. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn’t help himself. Wingle World!

His classmates had nothing on the rest of the unit commanders aboard the Eastwood when it came to envy and resentment. Pulling himself back to the present, he glanced around at his fellows. With few exceptions, they all wore glares or puzzled frowns. If they’d been school children he might have been looking for a fight behind the gym after the bell rang. He admitted to some puzzlement himself.

“Sir,” he said, clearing his throat, “could this be right? This is a courier job, not a military mission. We’re a scout force. Do you really need us to do something this … easy?”

Cleitis frowned, but Harawe nodded. “Fair question. We’d send a courier, but this piece of hardware is of interest to many more than Central Command. We can’t look too obvious going in for it, because we don’t want to attract too much attention.”

Daivid raised a finger tentatively. “Er, isn’t a whole platoon of uniformed troopers going to look a trifle obvious and attract that attention?”

“Service personnel visit Wingle World all the time, lieutenant,” Cleitis said, impatiently. “Special discount for the armed forces. If any of those other interests show up, Central Command wants the escort to be capable of defending the item until the ship can return to orbit. A small force with a reputation like yours,” he cleared his throat meaningfully, “is intended to be an extra piece of misdirection. You’ll just look as if you’re on a weekend pass. No one will figure you’re there to protect a sensitive piece of hardware.”

“But, sir …”

Harawe spun to glare at him. “Are you questioning Central Command’s judgment, lieutenant?”

“No, sir,” Daivid said, with a sigh, trying not to look as pleased as he felt. “Just trying to clarify our assignment.”

“Clarification: you’re tasked with getting one single item. You drop outside of town. Don’t damage anything. Don’t draw attention to yourselves. You walk in, get the item, walk out, and wait for retrieval in three days. Got it? And be inconspicuous. That’s the most important thing. Your group showed itself to be resourceful during our battle with the Surgies. Keep your eyes open.”

“Aye, sir.”

Commander Iry stood up, and pinned him with her eye. “This is an easy one, son. Be grateful. Do it right, get back here without incident, and your unit will be a part of the big push in the Benarli cluster.”

“Aye, ma’am.” Daivid did a little mental math. “Er, Commander, if we have any time to spare after we secure our objective, may we use it as personal leave?”

Iry let out a bark of laughter. “If there’s any extra time, you can do whatever you want, as long as it isn’t going to get you killed or thrown in the local slammer. If your troopers get arrested, you’ll wait for retrieval until after the mission to Benarli. Now, shut up and let us get on with his briefing.”

“Aye, aye, Commander.” Daivid had to take that as the final word. Iry reminded him a little of his mother. Not in any physical sense: Iry was a square, hard-assed woman who had come out of the commando units and Daivid’s mother was willowy, elegant and cultivated an air of gentle delicacy, but both she and Daivid’s mother had seen thousands of young people in their diverse professions hung out to dry over the years, and had occasionally done the hanging themselves.

The dissatisfaction among the other officers grew palpably, but Daivid didn’t hear a word. He found himself reading over the brochure again, losing track of the rest of the assignments the XO was handing out while he reveled in the moment. Wingle World!

O O O

“Hey, Wolfe,” Bruno hailed him from the doorway as the meeting broke up. “Come on back to the mess with us. We ought to drink to your unit’s good fortune.”

Lt. Rindel seconded it. “Yeah. Come and tell us what’s this secret that gives X-Ray the inside edge on this mission. I’d heard they were a bunch of screwups.” Not very surreptitiously, Bruno elbowed his jackal hard in the ribs. “Hey!”

Sensing a covert wedgie in his future, Daivid excused himself. “Thanks, guys, maybe later. I’ve got to go brief my noncoms and get an order of battle running.”

A few of the other junior officers gave him a gesture that showed they didn’t begrudge him his good fortune. Wilbury gave him a wry grin, but accompanied it with a thumbs-up. Daivid mentally noted the names of others he would have to watch out for for a few days. After that, everyone would be too involved in the job at hand to take time for petty grievances, though he would be the first to admit that it wasn’t uncommon for payback to come around years after the initial event. All he could do was handle the assignment with efficiency, and deal with consequences later.

And what an assignment!