Keep the Faith Read online

  David exhaled loudly as he ran through the tactical scenarios briefly. “We’ll split into two elements. Eldred and I will get the info, while Alpha Team bags the HVT. Clear?”

  “Sure you don’t want one of my guys with you, sir?”

  “Negative,” David replied. “Whatever’s left of Feldt’s forces will be defending him. The man is too much of a coward to do otherwise. We’ll encounter minimal resistance,” he said, as if by speaking the situation, he was willing it into existence.

  MacDonald shut down the tablet they were watching the drone feed on and put it away. “You’re the boss, sir. Alpha team, form on me. Colonel, I suggest you and Ms. Eldred step back. We’ll clear the street and breach.”

  As David took up a defensive position with the CIS agent at his side, he watched as the commandos lined up in perfect order and precision. Impressive—even more so than the Marines that move like a human wave.

  “Okay, spacewalkers, this is One. Two and Four, do you have shots lined up on the tangos in plain view?” MacDonald asked over the commlink.

  “Affirmative, One. We’re dialed in,” Harrell replied.

  “Drop 'em.”

  Thanks to the integrated flash and sound suppressors in the commando’s sniper rifles, the only sound audible was the click of the triggers pulling back and striking the firing pin of the weapon. A moment later, both enemies dropped in their tracks. The only evidence of the attack, besides the bodies themselves, were bright red bloodstains on the wall. Led by MacDonald, the commandos raced silently across the square in front of the tower and fitted its front door with explosive strips. They stepped to the side, and without warning, blew it apart. Smoke poured out of the opening while the team rushed in. The sound of battle rifle fire, muted as it was through superior CDF technology, filled the square. And then it was quiet.

  “Colonel, we’ve got the lobby cleared. Come on in and join the party,” MacDonald said through the commlink.

  David exchanged a glance with Eldred. “You good?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He offered her a nod. “Then let’s go.”

  She stood, covering the square with her battle rifle, while David did the same. The two of them moved across the area at double-quick, almost an all-out run. The scene inside the lobby was one of carnage and chaos. Fallen enemies were everywhere. Blood stained the walls, and blast damage from grenades was evident. “Nice work,” Eldred said to no one in particular.

  “Ready to press on, Master Chief?” David asked.

  “Absolutely. We found the stairs. I prefer those over gravlifts.”

  “Very well. Let’s move.”

  Harrell slapped David’s shoulder as he walked by. “Look at this. another fleet officer from the Lion of Judah that’s not afraid to mix it up on the ground. Must be a record for one ship.”

  Letting the remark pass, David checked the ammo on his battle rifle as the commandos stacked up on the doorway leading to the stairs. Rostami opened it, and Harrell tossed in a concussion grenade. Three seconds later, it went off, and they charged in.

  “Go, go, go!” MacDonald ordered through the commlink, and the team moved as if they were all mentally connected through the opening.

  It’s like watching water flow. David waited until the group disappeared, and moved in with Eldred. Surprisingly, there were no hostiles in the stairwell. Perhaps Feldt isn’t as smart of a tactician as he’d like to think. Then again, it’s possible his troops are dead.

  At the ninth floor, Eldred cleared her throat. “Ramirez’s quarters were one floor down from the penthouse, so this is our stop.”

  David nodded and cued his commlink. “Master Chief, we’re peeling off to look for the data disc. Good luck and Godspeed.”

  “Back at you, Colonel,” MacDonald’s rough voice replied. “I’ll let you know when we’ve got Feldt secured.”

  Not bothering to reply, David cracked the door open while Eldred covered it with her rifle. She tossed a concussion grenade in, then charged. He quickly followed her, taking the opposite side of the corridor. There was no one present. “Where’d they all go, you think?” he asked.

  “Rats off a sinking ship?”

  “Maybe. Do you know which one of these is her apartment?”

  Eldred touched his shoulder. “I just transferred the location to your HUD. It’s less than twenty meters away. She had a corner apartment. I guess it was a perk of being Feldt’s mistress.”

  “I can’t imagine it being remotely bearable, no matter how nice the perks, as you put it.” It didn’t take them long to cover the distance, even going slowly to ensure there were no surprise ambushes. The door to the apartment was open. It appeared to David as if none of them had locks. Why would they? With a megalomaniac running the place, it was just one more piece of control for him.

  Again, Eldred tossed a concussion grenade into the apartment as per standard breach procedure. It exploded with a bang, and they charged in, sweeping through the rooms. “Clear!” she yelled.

  “Clear!” David shouted as he finished checking out the living area. Small mementos of Ramirez’s life dotted the space, with electronic picture frames on loop showing her in happier times. Many had a man in them he assumed was Feldt. Also present were reminders of her Catholic faith. A set of rosary beads and a crucifix lay on the tiny coffee table in front of the couch. He walked to the bedroom, looking for Eldred. “Find anything?”

  “Yeah,” she replied and held up a small container, far smaller than a human hand. “One type-eight encrypted data disc. We won’t know what’s on it until I get back to CIS HQ, but this is what she died for.”

  The way in which Eldred said “what she died for” caused David to pause for a moment, deep in thought. All of us in the end owe God a death. At least this woman died for something noble. “Good work.”

  She shook her head as she dropped the disc into a carrying container built into the power armor. “No, it would’ve been good work if I’d kept my word.” She turned and walked out of the room.

  Simultaneously, MacDonald threw open the entryway to the tenth floor of the tower, and Harrell tossed flashbangs in. Twin explosions went off, and the team charged. They emerged into a foyer guarded by three gunmen in ballistic body armor, clutching civilian versions of a battle rifle. The enemies might as well have been carrying water pistols. Before they could raise their weapons, all three were dead, courtesy of three-round-bursts from the commandos.

  “Tangos down!” Rostami called out.

  MacDonald’s gruff voice filled the commlink. “Fan out, clear all rooms. Do not kill the HVT.”

  Before anyone else could respond, more gunfire cut across the foyer, forcing them to take cover. Bullets smashed into artwork, sculptures, and vases lining the walkway, shattering them into hundreds of pieces.

  “Hope they’ve got insurance on that stuff,” Harrell commented as he stood and returned fire from his squad automatic weapon on full auto. Sustained counter-fire forced him back. “I think they’ve got some auto-turrets or something, boss.”

  “Okay, gentlemen, let’s go to work. On three, toss fragmentation and EMP grenades forward, then we advance. Clear?” MacDonald asked.

  “Hoorah, Master Chief,” Mata replied, while the rest offered similar confirmation.

  “One… two… three!” In unison, they each threw a grenade. MacDonald’s was of the fragmentation variety, and he tried to time it so it would land behind the two shooters nearest to him. A moment later, there were four explosions and a massive concussive wave that would’ve knocked any unarmored human out of the fight. Coupled with electronics frying EMP blasts, the auto-turrets were rendered inert. Not wasting a second, the team jumped up and surged ahead, cutting down the few remaining enemies and coming to the end of the hallway. It opened up to a large, two-story room to the left, and what appeared to be sleeping quarters to the right. “Harrell, clear the right. Rostami, Mata, and I have the left. Double time!”

  “On it, boss!” Harrell said, as Ahma
d and Kucuk, who he still thought of as “the new guy,” turned off, rifles at the ready.

  MacDonald was left with Rostami and Mata, cautiously entering what could only be described as a monument to Edward Feldt—a room filled with shadowboxes dedicated to each significant achievement in his life. MacDonald took a moment to examine one. It told the story of Feldt killing a rival drug lord and absorbing his empire. “This is one sick puppy.”

  “Clear!” Rostami called out. “I’ve got a hot tub over here. Everything’s empty, but it looks like they left in a hurry.”

  “Boss, you’d better come here,” Harrell’s voice cut in through the commlink.

  “On my way,” MacDonald replied. He quickly strode through the penthouse, to the location of the rest of the team as designated by his HUD. A most peculiar sight greeted him—a small opening into an interior wall. Harrell and Ahmad stood next to it. “What’cha got?”

  “Escape chute. Straight down to the bottom.”

  “Son of a—”

  “Yeah, same reaction, boss. Not sure how long of a head start they’ve got, but we can’t fit down that thing without stripping our armor off.”

  “The flyboys will have to deal with this guy. Let’s collect all the intel we can. This place will be loaded with SIGINT.”

  “You got it, boss,” Harrell replied and started tossing the bedroom.

  “Rostami, let the Lion of Judah know they’re going to have company soon.”

  “On it, Master Chief. I found a computer system out here that appears important. His personal tablet is here, too. I’ll let you know when I get in.” the youngster answered.

  The faux luxury of the suite wasn’t lost on MacDonald. Everyone else lives in third-world planet style poverty, and this jerk feasts. Too bad we didn’t get to put him down. He walked through the penthouse slowly, taking in some of the art on the walls and bizarre posters calling workers to unite behind Feldt. What’s the shrink call it? God complex. He cued his commlink to contact David.

  “Cohen here. What can I do for you, Master Chief?”

  “Got what you need, sir?”

  “Affirmative. Did you bag our HVT?”

  “Negative, sir. He had an escape hatch. Our ride is aware.”

  “Understood. Collect all intel and let me know when you're ready to wrap it up. Cohen out.”

  MacDonald changed the commlink frequency to the channel for his entire team. “Okay boys, wrap up the search. I want to be off this piece of shit planet in fifteen mikes.”

  25

  The Lion of Judah’s bridge was a beehive of activity; still running at normal operations, the bridge crew moved with infectious energy as it was clear they were about to engage an enemy vessel. Hanson glanced at Ruth, who sat serenely in the XO’s chair as if she didn’t have a worry in the universe. “One destroyer shouldn’t be too big a deal, huh?”

  Ruth grinned. “Not for this ship.”

  “I think it’s time for condition one.”

  “Your call, sir.”

  She’s right. It is my call, and I need to be more decisive. He recalled how David was always cool as a cucumber during battle. Hanson set his jaw and stared straight ahead as he hit the button for 1MC. “This is Major Hanson. General quarters! General quarters! All hands, man your battle stations. This is not a drill. I say again, man your battle stations. This is not a drill. Set condition one throughout the ship!”

  The bridge lighting softened to a deep blue hue, its regular tone for a combat evolution. Second Lieutenant Victoria Kelsey, the second watch tactical action officer, spoke up. “Conn, TAO. Condition one set throughout the ship, sir.”

  “TAO, raise shields, charge energy weapons capacitor to maximum. Maintain continuous LIDAR scan of the surface area Alpha team and the colonel broadcasted out of.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Navigation, what is our current orbit height?”

  “Five hundred eighteen kilometers, sir,” Hammond quickly replied.

  “Navigation, put us into geosynchronous orbit over our friendlies’ position.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  For the next few minutes, the Lion maneuvered in space, increasing its range to the planet to nearly ten thousand kilometers before a stable orbit was achieved.

  Ruth leaned over. “What are you thinking, sir?”

  “Get between them and the Lawrence limit, disable the ship as soon as it clears the atmosphere,” Hanson said as he flashed a smile. “Nothing too fancy.”

  “Got it, sir.”

  Seconds stretched into minutes as Hanson split his attention between the forward view out of the transparent alloy windows on the bridge and the CO’s screen directly above his head. Maybe they’re not coming.

  “Conn, TAO. New contact, designed Sierra Sixty-three, coming up directly from Gilead.”

  Hanson routed the sensor report to the CO’s monitor and peered at it. Wildly overcharged engine. It’s coming out of the atmosphere like a bat out of hell. That’s no ordinary freighter, and it’s big enough to be something along the lines of a destroyer. “TAO, re-designate Sierra Sixty-three to Master One.”

  “Conn, TAO. Sierra Sixty-three is now designated Master One.”

  “TAO, conduct a deep scan of Master One. ETA ‘til it clears the atmosphere?”

  “Less than thirty seconds, sir,” Kelsey replied.

  Glancing at the sensor screen, the icon representing the enemy ship dutifully tracked into the blackness of space and promptly disappeared. “TAO, where’s our target?” Hanson asked, his voice betraying stress and concern as he leaned forward, furrowing his brow.

  “Conn, TAO, Master One is fading in and out of sensor lock, sir. Best guess, stealth coating across the entirety of the ship’s hull.”

  It was Ruth that sprang into action. “Sir, our scientific sensors are far more accurate than the tactical sensors. Recommend cross-referencing the data to provide for a constant plot.”

  “Do it, Lieutenant,” Hanson replied before he changed focus. “Communications, signal Master One. Order them to stand down and make ready to be boarded. Actually, use Feldt’s name in the transmission. Let’s see if we can rattle ‘em.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  Ruth leaned in and whispered, “You’re getting the hang of this.”

  Hanson tilted his head and saw her smile. “Thanks.”

  “No response from Master One, sir,” Bell interjected.

  Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. “How are those modifications coming, TAO?”

  Kelsey tapped away at the controls as she spoke. “Almost done, sir… there we go. I’ve got a seventy percent targeting solution on Master One. That’s the best we’re going to get.”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, neutron beams. Put a shot across Master One’s bow.”

  “Aye aye, sir. Firing solution set.”

  “Match bearings, shoot, neutron beams.”

  Two bright blue lances of light erupted from the Lion of Judah, cutting across the still unseen vessel’s path, leaving momentary streaks in space before they cut off.

  That’s enough to get anyone’s attention, unless they’re stupid or dead. Hanson stared at the tactical plot above his head.

  “Conn, TAO. Aspect change, Master One. She’s turned directly for us, and I’m detecting an energy build-up along the vessel’s bow.”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, neutron beams on Master One. Aim to disable.”

  “Aye aye, sir. Firing solution set.”

  “Match bearings, shoot, neutron beams.”

  Again, blue beams shot out from the Lion, zooming across the deep black of space as Hanson stared intently at the tactical plot. The ship they were firing on was so far away, it couldn’t be seen through alloy windows at the front of the bridge. Multiple impacts from a directed energy weapon fired by the enemy vessel impacted their port shields, causing a precipitous drain in power across all affected quadrants.

  “TAO, analyze that weapon signature. What are they shooti
ng at us?”

  “I’m not sure of the composition of the beam, sir, but it’s rapidly destabilizing our shield generators. The beam has EMP characteristics.”

  “What about our shots?” Hanson asked.

  “Most missed, sir. Master One has multiple fusion drives. Its acceleration profile is off the chart.”

  “We could launch fighters,” Ruth suggested.

  “Not enough time. We only have a squadron on ready five. They’re not armed for anti-ship combat either. TAO, firing point procedures, forward VRLS. Make tubes,” Hanson glanced down to confirm which ones had Hunter missiles in them. “Fifty through fifty-two ready in all respects and open outer doors.”

  “Conn, TAO. Tubes fifty through fifty-two ready in all respects. Outer doors are open.”

  “TAO, firing point procedures, target Master One with two Hunter missiles, and neutron beams.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Match bearings, shoot, tubes fifty and fifty-one, neutron beams, Master One.”

  As the ship rumbled from the two missile launches, Feldt’s ship pummeled the Lion with more directed energy fire. Impact after impact on the port side shield caused it to dip into dangerously low territory—less than ten percent effective charge remaining. A final hit collapsed their defensive screens, which was followed by a brace of missiles from the enemy. They slammed into the outer armor and rocked the crew in their harnesses.

  “We’re venting atmosphere on deck twenty, section eighteen,” Ruth called out. “Damage control teams are in route, and I’ve sealed off the areas around.”

  “Damnit,” Hanson said under his breath. He watched on the tactical display above the CO’s chair as the two Hunter missiles tracked their target. Dodging point defense fire, they moved deftly through the battlespace, until one icon blinked out followed rapidly by the next. Through the transparent alloy windows at the front of the bridge, he saw a dazzling array of purple-colored energy weapon fire.

  “TAO, status of Master One?”