The Phoenix War (46 page)

“There are a lot of cliffs and trees, that
limits our options,” said Campbell, swinging the lander around.
“Maybe if we—oh wait,
there
. That’s the spot. Beginning
landing procedure. Hold on.”

The lander swung low, sweeping in a circle
around a mountain peak, as it descended rapidly. Campbell’s eyes
kept switching between the window and the computer display. Pellew
trusted that the man knew what he was doing.

The craft slowed its descent rather suddenly
and then gently floated to the ground. Hovering for a few seconds
before achieving touchdown. And then, with a slight lurch, they had
landed. Campbell hit a few switches and powered down the remaining
thrusters. “Landing complete,” he said with a broad smile.

“Wonderful,” said Pellew. He unstrapped
himself and got out of his seat. “Now the question is, what is out
there?” he stared out the window for a moment but saw only trees
and rocks. No sign of people.

He picked up his rifle and headed to the
passenger compartment where he found the rest of his team geared up
and ready to explore the planet’s surface, heavily armed. In total
their group comprised fourteen people. The entirety of Operational
Detachment Bravo which meant seven special forces soldiers
including himself and five mercenaries, as well as two
engineers—who he’d expected to need to assess the lander’s
systems—and a doctor from the infirmary. Two of his soldiers had
field medic training but neither had the expertise the doctor had.
Unfortunately the three non-soldiers were also liabilities should
the team run into trouble.

“You two stay here,” Pellew pointed to the
engineers. “The rest of you with me. Campbell will remain in the
cockpit to trace the distress call and keep the bird ready for
flight, in case things go badly for us and we need a speedy
getaway.”

“What about me?” asked the doctor. He had
boyish looks and Pellew had seen him around plenty of times,
something Andrews
was his name.

“You can come with us,” said Pellew. “But
stick close and don’t do anything stupid.”

The doctor nodded. He was the only one
setting foot on the planet without a weapon. Pellew had offered him
a sidearm but the doctor had refused. Babbling off something about
wanting to save lives not end them.
Some kind of self-righteous
crap anyway
, thought Pellew.

“All right let’s move.”

They popped the hatch and climbed down the
ladder. Pellew was the first to feel his boots touch the soft brown
earth. He raised his rifle and swept the area around the LZ. The
others soldiers did the same and the group fanned out.

“Clear,” said one of them.

“Clear over here too.”

“LZ’s secure.”

“Campbell, can you get a fix on the source of
that distress signal?” asked Pellew.

“Yeah, you need to head due east of your
position,” reported Campbell over the radio. “And then after
two-hundred meters—” Pellew tapped the mute switch on his helmet
because he thought he heard something.

He squinted looking at the trees in front of
him.
I could have sworn I heard something
, he thought. He
shouldered his rifle and walked forward, into the woods. Thinking
he heard it again. Like the quiet crunch of footsteps over twigs
and leaves. He followed the noise. Taking a second to switch his
helmet’s comm system back on. “I think I’ve got something over
here,” he said. “East of the LZ, in the woods.”

“On our way.”

It sounded again and this time he knew for a
fact he’d heard something. It was definitely the sound of
footsteps. Pellew crouched, ready for anything, and stared into the
green forest. Expecting to see someone emerge from the brush at any
moment.

Come on, you bastard, don’t be
shy
.

He was right. After a few seconds a man
appeared. Making no effort to conceal his presence. He looked about
six feet tall, had receding hair, and wore a blue jumpsuit. He was
walking directly toward the LZ.
He must have seen the planetary
vessel land
, thought Pellew.

“Stop where you are,” commanded Pellew,
standing up and pointing the rifle at the stranger. “Hands on your
head.”

“Hello,” said the man, complying with all
instructions. “I was hoping you’d come.” His voice sounded oddly
familiar. And then Pellew got a good look at the stranger’s
face.

“Well, I’ll be damned…” said Pellew. Then,
over the radio, “Campbell, notify the Nighthawk that we found the
source of the distress call. Tell Summers that she’ll never guess
who we found.”

***

Nimoux stared at the man in the climate suit
pointing the rifle at him. His face was concealed by a helmet,
mask, and goggles, but the markings on his shoulder identified him
as a member of His Majesty’s Special Forces. Nimoux knew the symbol
well, he’d worn it himself for five years.

His first thought, when the sound of
thrusters roaring overhead had woken him a little after dawn from
his miserable attempt at sleep, had been that the prison guards
were upon him. They’d tracked him down and were using one of their
orbital landing craft to storm his position and terminate him. But
then he remembered the distress signal he’d activated on the
pedestrian transmitter—which was running dangerously low on power
now—and he knew it was also possible that the vessel circling above
had actually come to his rescue.

Feeling starving, having eaten nothing more
than a little uncooked squirrel meat and some berries that he was
pretty
sure were edible, and completely sick of the frigid
nights and the creepy woods, he’d decided to take his destiny in
his hands and head directly toward the sound of the aerial vehicle
descending nearby, rather than hide from it. If this vessel was
here to rescue him, then all the better. But if it wasn’t, then no
rescue was coming, since the transmitter was so drained of power.
And that meant he was stuck on this planet until he died, so he
might as well hasten the inevitable.

Of course, now that he saw the special forces
symbol on the man standing before him, Nimoux was sure the soldier
had come from the Nighthawk.
They heard my distress call and
decided to investigate
. He was so relieved to see the man
standing before him, he almost couldn’t process it. He felt drunk
on his own dopamine.

“Lafayette Nimoux?” the man said as he
approached. Nimoux noted that he kept his rifle level with Nimoux’s
chest.

“That’s right,” said Nimoux. “But I’m afraid
you have me at a disadvantage.”

The soldier let go of his rifle with his
offhand and removed his helmet. Revealing a face that looked more
suited to blockbuster movies than life as a soldier, he had a
strong jaw and dashing good looks that made even his helmet-hair
look chic. Nimoux recognized him at once from the Nighthawk
personnel files he’d studied.

“Sorry about that, my name is Captain
Jason—”

“Pellew, yes I know,” said Nimoux. “And
before you ask, yes it was me who sent the distress call. I’ll
explain everything but we must hurry, there isn’t much time.”

As he spoke, several other soldiers converged
on their position, weapons drawn, no doubt part of Pellew’s team.
I hope you brought a lot
, thought Nimoux,
because we’re
going to need them
. He was eager to storm the prison despite
his fatigue, hunger, and almost dizzying lightheadedness.

“What seems to be the emergency?” asked
Pellew.

“About fifty kilometers that way,” Nimoux
pointed, “there is a small extralegal prison colony. You must have
seen it during your descent.”

“We did see something,” admitted Pellew.
“It’s a prison?”

“Yes, and not just any prison. Whoever is
running it has abducted several key members of the Imperial
government, the military, and even heads of corporations—anyone
with influence—and is keeping them there. Gather your men, we need
to move quickly!”

“You want to go back there?” asked Pellew,
eyeing Nimoux’s disheveled appearance and filthy blue jumpsuit.
“You look like you just escaped from there. Seriously, you look
like hell.”

“There are only a few dozen guards, and most
of them are mercenaries. We need to eliminate them and seize
control of the prison before it’s too late,” Nimoux’s voice carried
his sense of urgency.

“Before what’s too late?”

“I believe they’re going to slaughter all of
the prisoners soon and bury the evidence. We
can’t
let that
happen,” he stared candidly at Pellew’s brown eyes. “Director
Edwards is there. And so is Vice Admiral Harkov of the Fifth
Fleet!”

Pellew looked at him skeptically. Probably
thinking that Nimoux had gone insane out here in the untamed wild
of Gamma Persei Three.
But he also must make square the fact
that I’m here, looking like an escaped prisoner
, thought
Nimoux,
which undoubtedly lends some credibility to my
claim
.

“All right, we’ll check it out,” said Pellew.
“Nassar take him into custody,” he nodded toward Nimoux. “You and
Emmett keep a close eye on him. He’s ex-special forces—that’s
right
I study my enemy too, Captain Nimoux.”

Two of the soldiers stepped forward and
roughly grabbed him by the arms.

“Everybody back to the shuttle, let’s go,
move
!” barked Pellew. He replaced his helmet as he jogged
toward the LZ and spoke into its mic. “Campbell, get the bird ready
for immediate takeoff. Tell Summers we’re going to check out the
colony before we return to the ship, and tell her we’ve got
Lafayette Nimoux in custody.”

They reached the LZ and Nimoux was hustled
onto the orbital landing craft. They sat him against the far
bulkhead in a seat next to Nassar while Emmett stood nearby. The
other soldiers piled in and braced themselves for takeoff. As soon
as the hatch was sealed, the vehicle lurched upward, firing its
thrusters in a controlled burn that gained them an altitude of a
thousand meters in mere seconds.

The craft banked starboard and Nimoux watched
the tops of the mountains seem to shrink away out the window.

Less than a minute after takeoff, they were
dropping fast and low, descending on a new LZ and prepping for a
combat landing.
I’ve returned
, thought Nimoux.
And, as
promised, I’ve brought the cavalry with me
.

***

“Commencing landing procedure,” announced
Campbell. “Touchdown in fifteen seconds.”

Seated at the co-pilot station, Pellew stared
out the cockpit window and examined the colony below. As they’d
neared the group of portable structures he had to admit it did look
like a prison. The structures were uniformly bland, there was a
yard with tower-like guard posts infrequently scattered about, and
a large fence encircling the perimeter, clearly designed to keep
people in rather than out. All that was missing was the prisoners
themselves. Pellew didn’t see even one person. There were a few
dust clouds near the ground that partially limited visibility, but
not enough to conceal a lot of people.

“Six seconds,” announced Campbell, their
rapid descent slowed as he fired the landing thrusters.

“Swing us all the way around, then set us
down in the yard,” ordered Pellew. He wanted to get a complete look
at the prison and he knew the best way to do that was from the
air.

“Roger,” said Campbell, he cancelled the
landing procedure and increased their altitude.

As the craft turned, completing its circle
around the colony, Pellew spotted a large black circle near one of
the main structures. “There,” he pointed. “In between those
structures. Do you see that?”

“Yeah, I see it,” said Campbell. “What the
hell is that?”

It appeared to be some kind of blackened,
circular mound. “Let’s find out,” said Pellew. “Set us down over
there.”

“Yes sir.” Campbell lowered the nose of the
landing craft and brought it around until they were hovering over
the LZ. “Touchdown in three seconds.” They descended gently and
landed with a slight lurch. “We’re on the ground.”

Pellew practically leapt out of the
co-pilot’s chair as he hurried to the passenger section. “Okay,
ODB, everybody out, move, move,
move
,” he said into his
helmet’s mic. As he exited the cockpit, he was happy to see his
soldiers had already begun exiting the vehicle via the main hatch.
Captain Nimoux remained seated and under guard.

“Nassar, you keep an eye on Baldy here,” said
Pellew, nodding toward Captain Nimoux. “Emmett, you’re with
me.”

“I’m coming too,” said Nimoux, a serious look
shown in his eye. “You need
all
your men to deal with those
guards, and I know the prison better than anyone else here.”

Pellew considered that for a half-second. If
there was a firefight, he’d want all the soldiers he could muster.
Nimoux was ex-special forces, so he knew his way around a firearm
better than any of the mercs. And Nimoux was the only one who knew
the layout of any of the structures, which could prove tactically
useful.

“I made a
promise
to my friends that I
would come for them,” said Nimoux, his unkempt appearance, swollen
red eyes, and look fierce determination made him seem both crazy
and sincere. “From one soldier to another, I’m sure you
understand.”

Pellew unstrapped his sidearm and tossed it
to Nimoux. “All right, but you’ll do exactly as I tell you.”

“Sir yes sir,” Nimoux flashed an eager
smile.

“Now let’s move!”

By the time Pellew’s boots touched the soft
sand, his men had finished sweeping the LZ.

“LZ secure,” reported Second Lieutenant
Garcia. She was one of the few female soldiers who remained on the
Nighthawk.

Pellew shouldered his rifle and looked
around. The wind was blowing, shifting the sands and raising a thin
cloud of dust. His helmet and mask protected him from the elements,
but visibility was limited. He looked all around him and saw no
one. Just dark dormant structures.