A broken alliance, p.17
A Broken Alliance, page 17
part #5 of Sentenced to War Series
I’m going to have to keep my eye on that young boy.
All they needed was for the situation to go to hell with people getting hurt. Rev was going to make sure that his team of four made no mistakes. Hopefully, no one would resist and things would go smoothly.
The problem was, things rarely so went.
Faces poked out of offices, then quickly disappeared as Rev, Akkeke, La’ei, and Gingham strode down the fifth-floor hallway of Dillinger DL. Rev would have hoped that he would be at the Green Systems headquarters, but the luck of the draw gave First Platoon Dillinger.
Second Squad was on the top floor rounding up the president and several other high-ranking officials. First was on the fifth floor rounding up the rest of those on the list. Rev watched the office numbers as they got closer to their target.
He wasn’t feeling comfortable just walking down the center of the hallway, and it wasn’t because Dillinger was a Union company. The thought of arresting people, citizens who the Home Guard had sworn to defend, rubbed him raw. These weren’t Children of Angels, who saw the Centaurs as heavenly beings sent to raise humans to a new level. These weren’t pirates trying to enslave other humans. These were just people who happened to be working for a company that was in conflict with another.
But the decision had come down that after the riot at Briarton, action had to be taken. And since personnel from both companies had been at fault, both companies would pay the price. An even dozen officers from each were going to be arrested and taken to the civilian jail for processing.
As the major had briefed them, it was likely that all of them would be out before nightfall, but the message will have been sent. There was to be no direct action by either company while the courts dealt with the issue.
Rev was actually surprised that the planetary director asked for CoH intervention. Both companies paid hefty licensing fees, and both hired January Hold citizens. But either the conflict was affecting the planet at large, the director wanted to remind the companies who ran the planet, or the CoH had back-door pressured the director to request the help.
Whatever the reason, the Home Guard was being used as the enforcers. That wasn’t how Rev understood the Home Guard’s mission. But orders were orders, and he was going to do his best to comply with them.
At least the Dillinger security hadn’t intervened. They were not happy when the platoon entered the building, but twenty-six combat-suited troopers and three local cops were more than a match for the four security officers at the front lobby.
Even so, two of them, at least, looked ready to act, but after a hurried call while the troopers patiently waited, the two squads were told to proceed.
“Heads on a swivel, heads on a swivel. Just because these four are standing down doesn’t mean that others are not on their way here,” Bundy had passed on the platoon net.
Perhaps the most surreal thing was waiting in the lobby for the elevators. The decision had been made to use them, so as to make the mission seem as routine as possible and not an attack on the company itself. Each car could only handle four combat-suited troopers. So, the platoon had spread out between the two banks of elevators. There were six people in the first one that opened. The first team of four from Second Squad politely stood aside for the six to get off. But one of the women inside gave a squeak of fright, and the door closed before anyone could stick an arm or a leg inside.
“Don’t wait for them to leave, people. Stop the car, then let them out,” SFC Arsenyev passed.
One by one, teams of four went up to the fifth and sixth floors. In a combat action, or even with a police action, hitting all the offices as quickly and as simultaneously as possible would have been the goal. But no one cared what documents the Dillinger officers might be destroying while they waited their turn to go up. This was a message, nothing more, and not an attempt to build and prosecute a legal case.
Message or not, trying to show that this was routine or not, Bundy was not a fool. He was using only two elevators, making sure that his entire platoon was not isolated in the cars at any one time.
Rev’s team was the last to go up. He gave Tomiko, who was leading the team that was securing the bottom floor at the banks of elevators, a nod as he stepped into the car. It lurched a bit under his weight, and the door closed.
Like a bad joke, the music started the moment the door closed. Rev stood there facing the door as a generic instrumental version of “Lightning and Iron” played. How they made that clash of music sound pleasant was beyond Rev, and Lian Tong, the lead singer for Deth and Ruen, had to be turning over in his grave.
This situation was . . . weird. His warrior must not have been able to make sense of it because he wasn’t stirring, and that had Rev concerned. If things did go bad, he needed to be at the top of this game.
“Not now.”
Rev felt he needed to be more alert, not calmer.
The door opened, and the four piled out. Thirty seconds later, Rev stopped in front of room 508.
“This is it. Act like we belong,” he passed to the other three.
Rev would have liked to enter the office abreast in hopes of cowing the people inside. But not even two of them would fit through the door at the same time.
With Pashu, Rev was the most impressive-looking of the four, so he pushed the door open with his foot and strode four steps inside, where he waited for the other three. The center area consisted of about twenty desks, from which office workers were scrambling away, eyes wide with fear.
Good. Our entrance worked.
There were four offices along the outside wall, and at the end, a rather large office. If he was inside, that was Rev’s target: Cletus McCove, the VP for personnel.
“Everyone in this room. I am Staff Sergeant Pelletier of the Congress of Humanity’s Home Guard. We are here at the request of Director Tanya Humphrey. If you can all take a seat along that wall, we can complete our mission and leave. “
No one moved.
Rev tried to put a little more menace into his voice. “No one will get hurt if you cooperate, but we will use force if we have to.”
He motioned to the other three, and as they moved forward, there was a mad rush of people running to the wall and sitting down.
“La’ei, Akkeke, gather Ms. Rand. I think that’s her in the blue top sitting by the coffee machine. Gingham, let’s go get Cletus.”
With Pashu at the half-ready—not actually aiming her at anyone but with her clearly ready to deploy—Rev led Gingham down along the line of offices to the end and opened the door.
A young man, his face as white as a ghost’s, was standing behind the desk in the small reception room. Rev didn’t need Punch’s facial recognition to know this wasn’t their target.
“Where is Mr. McCove?”
The man raised a trembling hand and pointed to the office behind him.
“If you’ll step away from the desk and join the others out there, I would appreciate it.”
The kid needed no further encouragement. He bolted out into the main space.
“Kid?” Hell, he’s probably my age.
He just seemed younger.
Rev pushed open the door into the main office.
Dillinger must be doing pretty well on this planet, Rev told himself as he took in the spacious, well-appointed office with a view of the Anderle Silver Spa and Resort’s garden and the mountains beyond.
But he wasn’t here to gawk at the digs. He was focused on the middle-aged man sitting behind a massive black desk. The man looked calm as Rev stepped in front of him. Only the line of sweat forming on his brow was any indication that it was a front.
“Cletus McCove?”
“Yes.”
“I am Staff Sergeant Pelletier from the Congress of Humanity’s Home Guard. I am here to inform you that you are under arrest.”
The man snorted. “So, that’s your game,” he said almost under his breath. Then, “Under whose authority?”
“Director Humphrey’s.”
He snorted again, this time louder. “Humphrey? After all the campaign contributions we’ve given her? Stupid, stupid woman. What are the charges?”
“Fomenting violence. Code four-oh-four-point-two.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“I need to know if you will come willingly with us. If you won’t we will be forced to restrain you.”
Gingham took his cue and stepped forward, removing a set of zipties from his harness.
“Really? You’d do that? You know, as soon as you stepped onto the grounds, our lawyers were already working this. We won’t even be out of the building when you’ll get orders to quit this bullshit. Dillinger’s got friends in high places, and they’ll make sure heads will roll, and that includes you, Sergeant. Is your career really worth playing this little game?”
“Mr. McCove, will you come willingly, or will we have to restrain you?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“PFC Gingham, if you will restrain Mr. McCove.”
The VP flinched as Gingham started forward, but he held firm. At least, until Gingham reached out to grab his arm.
McCove jumped back and almost screamed, “OK, OK, I’ll come.”
Gingham looked back at Rev, who gave a short nod.
“If you’ll come with us, then?” Rev asked, holding out Pashu to indicate the way.
It was only then that the man seemed to really notice Rev’s IBHU, as hard as that was for Rev to believe. It wasn’t as if Pashu was understated.
“You’re Union, aren’t you?”
Rev didn’t reply.
“And your voice. You sound like a provincial.”
Rev could hear the familiar dismissiveness in the man’s voice, and for a moment, he was tempted to let Gingham ziptie him.
“Where you from? Liberty Station?”
Rev was going to ignore him, but for reasons he didn’t understand, he said, “Safe Harbor.”
“Safe Harbor? Hell, I spent five years with the company there. At Surrey Town. So, let me ask you this, what the fuck are you doing? You know, we’re Union, right?”
“I know.”
“You know? Then why are you doing this? Are you a traitor? I can’t believe a Marine, even a provincial, is going to fight his own people.”
Rev was feeling bad about just that, but the man’s derision as he said “provincial” just hardened his will.
“I’m following my orders as my oath to the Home Guard requires me to. And yes, I’m fucking pissed about this. But if you weren’t breaking the law, I wouldn’t be forced to do this,” he said, leaning into the man who wilted under the force of Rev’s anger. “So, give me more shit, why don’t you? Please. Give me an excuse, any excuse, and you’ll be carried out on your back.”
Rev’s warrior had clawed his way to the surface. To be questioned about being a traitor dug at Rev’s own doubts about the mission, and that wasn’t something he was going to take.
“Drag his ass out,” he told Gingham. He left the office and headed back out into the main space. La’ei and Akkeke had the blue-topped women between them, each one on an arm. She was trembling, her eyes downcast.
Rev didn’t say a word as he marched out of 508 and down the hall toward the elevators, the others trailing behind.
Lines and his team were already waiting with their target.
“Good hunting?” the sergeant asked.
“We got them,” Rev said, still steaming.
The first elevator was full, and they had to wait for the second elevator for Lines and his team to get in. Rev just stood there, ignoring their prisoners.
Evidently, McCove was getting a little bit of his gumption back. “You’re all going to burn, you know. All of you.”
Rev didn’t deign to reply.
“I’m going to be free in time for dinner, and you, you’re going to see what it’s like behind bars.”
Rev just watched the numbers as one of the elevators started back up.
“I’m talking to you, traitor!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Gingham shouted, and McCove gave a squeak.
Rev didn’t know what the PFC had done, and he wasn’t going to look. The elevator opened, and Rev realized that all six of them couldn’t fit inside. No one had thought this through.
“Gingham, I’ve got him. You wait for the next one.”
McCove was bent slightly to the left, his left arm pressing against his ribs. Rev was tempted to pull the man by the left arm, but he just indicated that he step inside. Even with only the three troopers, it was still a tight fit with the two prisoners.
The door opened on the ground floor to a different situation. At least thirty people were in the lobby, shouting at the troopers, demanding that their people be released. Four troopers from Third Platoon had joined Tomiko’s team, and along with three from Second Squad, had formed a wall, keeping the people at bay.
Notedly, Rev could count at least a dozen more security personnel who had arrived, and they were openly talking together, pointing toward where the first two prisoners were sitting, backs against the wall.
Outside, a large paddy wagon was waiting. The crowd was ignoring it for now, but the moment the platoon started to move the prisoners out, Rev knew that would change.
“Rev, good to see you. Things are heating up,” Tomiko said. “Can you get your two corporals to help hold them back?”
“Sit your ass down and don’t make a sound,” Rev told McCove and Rand.
Rand immediately complied, but McCove, his confidence returning, said, “Looks like people might not like what you’re doing.”
“Sit him down,” Rev told Akkeke, who shoved the man down by the shoulder.
He told Akkeke and La’ei to join the others in holding the crowd back.
“This is getting wild,” Tomiko said. “We need to get the prisoners out of here sooner rather than later.”
One of the elevator doors opened, and three troopers from Second Squad and two more prisoners stepped out. More people were arriving, though, coming in from outside and joining the crowd. The shouting was getting louder.
Rev motioned for the prisoners to be deposited with the others and for the troopers to reinforce the line.
“Did you tell Bundy what’s going on?”
“Yeah. He’s asking for more help from the watch, and he’ll be down soon.”
Rev’s warrior was in full form. If he’d been concerned that he might not get up for the mission, that had long faded. He was ready for anything, but what could he do? Shouting at them wasn’t a reason to take any action. But he knew something else was afoot, just not what. Unfortunately, he had to wait for it to happen before he could react.
“Power up beamer and set at one percent.”
This wasn’t a combat mission, and his meson cannon had been powered down. But the situation was changing. At one percent, his beamer could still kill an unarmored person, but a quick sweep might not be lethal. It wouldn’t be a lover’s caress, but the target might still be breathing.
The elevator doors opened, and Bundy rushed out with Acevedo, Millsap, and a harried-looking woman. Rev felt part of the weight lift off his shoulders as the lieutenant was here to take charge.
“Oh, shit. You’ve got the CEO. Now, you’re really going to burn, traitor. She’s Senator Twillsong’s niece.”
Rev didn’t have a clue as to who the senator was, nor did he care. But he bristled at the “traitor,” and he had to restrain from backhanding McCove with his IBHU.
“She’ll tell Dr. Peng to close our damn facility at Surrey. Huh, more than a thousand jobs lost. What’s your prime minister going to think about that, that one of his Marines pissed them away?”
McCove was really getting on Rev’s nerves. He needed to ignore the man and focus on the situation. He turned to see Tomiko briefing Bundy on what was going on.
Don’t watch them. Watch the bad guys, Reverent!
He took a position halfway between the prisoners and the wall of troopers. Several of the blue-jacketed security officers had moved to the front of the line, eyes locked on the prisoners. Rev shifted to his right so he was directly in front of them. One of them was repeatedly flicking two fingers on his hand as if signaling someone.
Rev went into full combat mode. He spun around, Pashu raised as he scanned for anyone coming up from the rear. He realized that he hadn’t checked the security desk itself. If Tomiko hadn’t, it was big enough to hide one, maybe two security officers.
“Hey, traitor, you’re not getting out of here. Our people are going to tear you into little pieces,” McCove called out.
Rev forced the man from his thoughts. He put up a wall between them to get the man out of his consciousness.
But the wall wasn’t perfect, and there was a slight scuffing sound from where the prisoners were seated. Rev’s attention was on the desk, but something made him look . . . as McCove was on his feet, sprinting to the security officers.
He’d been played, he realized in an instant. McCove had kept at him to get him to tune the VP out. Immediately and instinctively, he aimed Pashu, ready to take the man out. But a shot at him would hit the crowd.
“Stop him!” he yelled over the platoon net. Several of the troopers manning the line raised their weapons, searching the crowd. “No, behind you!”
The two Third Squad troopers turned, but it was too late. McCove was between them and diving through the opening the security officers had created. They immediately closed it off.
McCove had been right in one thing. He’d probably be out in time for dinner with his family. So, what did it really matter in the long run if he evaded the sweep?
But it did matter, at least to Rev. He had a mission, and while he delivered McCove to Tomiko, it wouldn’t be a success unless the guy spent time behind bars, even if only for five minutes.
Rev was already moving, gaining speed and momentum. The security officers, to their credit, closed ranks when they saw him coming. But there wasn’t any way Rev was going to let them stop him. He held Pashu in front of him like a battering ram, cut between the two troopers, and slammed into the four officers. Together, they out-massed him and had more strength. But they didn’t have Rev’s will. Pashu caught the nearest officer under the chin, and he went down hard. The other three had taken a step back. Big mistake. They should have pressed forward instead. But giving ground played into Rev’s hands. They went down, unable to get away with the press of people behind them.
