Wings of steele 4 dark c.., p.14
Wings of Steele 4: Dark Cover, page 14
It's a Q-Ship,” muttered Jack, reaching into the hologram and turning it. “The fighters go in here?” he pointed at door markings on the belly.
“That's right.”
“What's a Q-Ship?” asked Lisa.
“I am curious as well,” said Higdenberger.
“During World War One and Two,” began Jack, “The Allied losses to German U-Boat attacks on supply columns was terrible. And the Allied navies were spread so thin they couldn't provide enough escorts. The Allies came up with the idea of merchant supply ships armed with hidden weaponry. The U-Boats would surface to engage what they thought was a helpless supply ship at short range and the Q-Ships would open up and sink them. It was pretty effective.”
“Except the UFW655 is not for hunting Mr. Steele,” countered the Fleet Admiral. “Her capabilities must be kept secret and only used defensively as a last resort... Her job, your job, is subterfuge and espionage.” He tapped the holographic controls, the ship's weapons hiding again, “Your new assignment,” he motioned to the image, is Operation Dark Cover.
CHAPTER TEN
TERRAN SYSTEM – UFW655 : COLD SHOULDER
Considering he'd lost the Conquest's Fleet Operations office to Higdenberger, Steele commandeered Captain Ryan's ready room... for the time being.
Steele hadn't realized the secure long-distance conversations he'd conducted with Fleet Admiral Higdenberger concerning deep cover operations, was going to show up and bite him in the ass over a year later. They had discussed ideas, tactics, targets, methodology... he didn't recall ever volunteering for anything. But maybe he'd been too convincing. Dammit to hell. Higdenberger had given him forty-eight hours to make ready and shove off on the UFW655 – which also needed a new name for the fake registry. His mind was still working on that. There was only a small handful of people who knew the story behind Steele's loss of command; thankfully Pappy, Mike and Brian were in the loop.
“I thought Maria's service was very nice,” commented Lisa from the sofa.
Jack looked up from the UFW655 manuals he was reviewing. “Yeah, it was. I understand it will take the casket about three months to reach the sun.”
“What are they going to do with the astronaut's remains?”
“Send him back down to his family I suppose. All the astronauts will be going back home in a day or two. I'm sure NASA will have a ton of questions for them...”
There was a moment of silence and Lisa struggled with the question in her mind - whether to bring it up or not. “So... do you believe him?”
Jack looked up from his studies, his brow furrowed, “Who?”
“The Fleet Admiral. Everything he said... or, didn't say.”
“Yes. And no. It's not that I don't trust him...”
“But you don't trust him,” injected Lisa, flatly, finishing her brother's thought.
“Yeah. I don't. I want to... but I get the feeling that there's too much that he's leaving out.”
“Does it worry you?”
Steele bit his lip and sighed deeply, “Yeah. To some extent. I can't tell yet whether what I don't know is minutiae, or monumental. I want to believe it's just unimportant details.”
“What's your gut tell you?”
Jack shrugged, “My little voice has been quiet so far.”
With that, silence had returned and he went back to his studies. After a brief interlude, Lisa looked up from her TESS's screen, “Hey, did you hear they tracked the pirates out of the system?”
“No,” frowned Jack, “how did you find out?”
“Higdenberger has given me access to intel as a liaison. Two destroyers ran and took the gate to Alpha Centauri. The third GOD jumped, they're not sure to where.”
Steele's brow furrowed, considering the escape. “Hmm... Wait, backtrack - what's his Lieutenant Commander doing? I thought he was liaison.”
“Don't know,” she shrugged.
Jack smiled, “Son-of-a... he knows you're going to tell me, he's giving me an information pipeline for the task force.”
“Well he did say this arrangement was temporary. That you'd get Lancer back...”
“I don't know. Somehow in the back of my mind I keep thinking that will never happen...”
“The little voice?”
Jack shook his head, “More like a nightmare..”
The door chimed and Lisa checked her schedule, “Your first appointment. You sure you want to do this? You do hate spies...”
There was no one on Higdenberger's hand-picked crew on the UFW655 that Jack knew. He needed a few select people he could trust and the Fleet Admiral had given him no objections. “Enter.”
Mercedes Huang sauntered into the room as the door slid into the bulkhead. Her straight, shoulder length, blue-black hair, caramel skin and almond-shaped eyes gave her a certain feline quality, though nothing like the Ketarians of course. “Admiral. Ensign,” she acknowledged, nodding at each in turn. She moved smoothly, sitting at the opposite end of the sofa from Lisa. If she noticed Lisa's eye-roll, she gave no indication of it.
“I trust you are feeling better? Healing well?” asked Jack.
“Yes. Thank you. And you?” she indicated his leg.
“Doing well,” he nodded. He paused for a moment, abstractly considering her beauty before deciding to be direct, “It has occurred to me that there may, or may not be, a position left for you to fill back on Earth. And,” he continued, not allowing her to respond, “that even if there was, your skills and experience might be far more valuable to humanity out here. With us. Hunting the people who did that...” he thumbed over at the planet hovering above the holo-table.
“Do you plan to capture them and bring them to justice?” she asked.
“No. No... I plan to hunt them down like the sub-human filth they are and kill them wherever we find them...”
“I'm not an assassin,” she replied coolly.
“Neither am I. But, these heinous cretins tried to execute an extinction level event on our humanity, simply to escape capture. A level of evil that defies description. I don't expect they will offer us an alternative.”
“I see your point. But what if you manage to capture one alive?”
“Then it will be up to you to extract whatever information you can, in any manner you can. Being a deep cover CIA operative, I suspect you have those skills...”
“I do.”
“Good. Then we work to repeat that success.”
“I see. And once you've eliminated them all?”
“I can't say for sure we'll catch up with them all, but there is much more to this mission than just the operatives. I can't tell you more until I am assured you're committed. Suffice it to say, I expect we'll be putting your skills to the test.”
“I understand,” she nodded. “Why me?” She saw the sudden pained expression cross Steele's face, “Ahh, the loss of Ms. Arroyo.”
“I need someone I can trust,” he replied. “You risked your life to save mine, that tells me there's something in you that's inherently good. I trust my instincts - they're usually pretty spot-on and I get the sense that I can trust you. I believe we may have some things in common.”
“I appreciate the offer and I'm honored by your trust,” she mused, examining her hands. “I think I can safely say,” she began, looking back up, “that I have nothing else pressing at the moment. You can count me in.”
■ ■ ■
Chase Holt cut another slice of his steak, the tender meat, pink in the center, “Why me, Jack? Seriously, what could I possibly add?” Dan Murphy watched the conversation, sipping a beer.
“Your security and electronics background is sure to be helpful...”
Chase made a face of skepticism, stabbing the slice of meat with his fork, mopping some gravy off his plate, “Doubtful. I don't know squat about this technology.”
“I'm not saying there isn't a learning curve...”
Chase nearly spit the meat out of his mouth when he laughed at the absurdity, “Learning curve? C'mon Jack, be serious...” He stared down at his plate as he chewed, “Besides...”
“Your prior life is gone, buddy,” replied Jack, as gently as possible. “You have Allie, Karen and all of us...”
Chase dropped his fork on his plate and leaned back in the booth, his arms folded across his chest, “You really know how to ruin a guy's appetite, you know that?”
“You know that's not my intention, don't be a drama queen.”
“I went out of my way to help your folks...” scowled Chase.
“I haven't forgotten. I appreciate everything you've done. And we are going to do everything we can to make your folks comfortable. Dan is staying here on the Conquest. I have secured permission for him to go with the landing party. If your family needs anything he'll make sure they get it. If they want to leave, he'll get them out...”
“Veloria?”
Jack nodded, “Yes, Veloria. I will make sure they're taken care of.”
Chase rubbed his face with his hands, “And Karen?”
“She'll be safe, you know that. They'll all be waiting for us when we get to Veloria. You can leave Allie here with her if you want...”
Chase shook his head vigorously, “No, no... Allie stays with me.”
Steele nodded, “Fair enough - just a suggestion. But I need you with me; I need a Brother I can trust at my back.”
“Alright, alright... don't beg,” gestured Chase, picking his fork and knife back up. “But you still owe me...”
Jack nodded with a smile, “Yes I do.”
■ ■ ■
His goodbyes complete and last minute details checked off, Jack Steele, about to assume his new identity as Jax Mercury, waited on the flight deck with his sister.
Lisa Steele stood next to her brother with her hands on her hips watching the deck crew load the shuttle from the UFW655, the flight bay of the Conquest a flurry of perpetual motion.
“I can't believe you convinced Brian to let go of Ragnaar...”
Jack shrugged, “Well I kinda figured if we're going to try to blend in with Pirates and FreeRangers, it might be helpful to actually have at least one actual Pirate in the crew. It took a little convincing but he eventually saw it my way.”
“How hard did you have to twist his arm?” she prodded. “You didn't have to break it, did you?”
“Not quite,” smirked Jack, “but it was close.”
“Who else did you take?”
“I wanted another pilot. The two on the 655 look alright, but they're still green. I pulled Torn Dado...”
“Tornado's a good pilot,” agreed Lisa, “not as good as me, but...”
“Nothing doing,” countered Jack. “You're staying here - it's safer.”
“Unless Lieutenant Margareth kills me...”
“You can stop worrying about Nera Margareth, you're out of fighter rotations,” countered Jack. “You're heading back to the Revenge; you're the only experienced Reaper pilot left, since Maria...” his voice trailed off.
Lisa nudged the conversation past its awkward pause, “Draza Mac still my back seater?”
“Yep. And if you're lucky, you might get some time on the bridge.”
“Oh, that's sweet! Say, did you ever come up with a name for the 655?”
“Yeah, Perseus.”
Lisa's brow furrowed, “The name sounds familiar but I can't place it...”
“In Greek mythology, Perseus was the first recorded hero - his adventures were legendary; defeating monsters and demons... His exploits provided the framework for the founding myths of the Twelve Olympians - the major gods of the Greek pantheon. He was the hero who beheaded Medusa, and in another adventure killed the sea monster Cetus, sent by Poseidon. That little victory won him the hand of Andromeda in marriage. Aaand, he was the only one to have tamed and flown Pegasus.”
Lisa's eyes narrowed, “Your ring,” she pointed at his hand, “and the logo you used on the Freedom...”
“That's right.”
Her lips pursed in thought, “Interesting...”
Jack glanced at his sister out of the corner of his eye, “Were you able to take care of that little project I gave you?”
“The old eGo units? Yeah.”
“Think anyone will notice?”
Lisa shook her head, “I don't think so. When the Supply Chief heard the request was coming from you, he pulled them off the inventory list and marked the log entries as destroyed and recycled. No questions asked. I've got most of them distributed already...”
“Mom and dad?”
“Dad's got one – I reminded him to keep it concealed. The key visitors you listed got theirs before we shuttled them back down.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, “And the rest of the units?”
“Will be going down to the GIS Watchers that Derrik Brighton provided a list of. He seemed rather pleased that there was something he could do for you...”
“He's trying to get back into my good graces...”
“Is it working?”
Steele smirked “I'll let him think so...”
Marine Warrant Officer Dale Alaroot strode up and snapped a salute, “Admiral.”
Jack returned the salute before extending his hand, “Dale...”
“Sir, I just wanted to say, I think what they're doing to you is a complete mistake; one they're going to regret. It was a pleasure serving with you.”
“Thank you, Dale. But it's not as bad as it looks; everything is going to work out, you'll see...”
“Of course, sir.” Dale went from handshake back to salute, turning on his heel and returning to the line of Marines standing at parade rest.
“He seems more than just a little upset,” commented Lisa quietly.
“Yeah, I noticed that...” Steele rubbed his chin, “We've had a chance to get to know one another. I like Dale, he's a good man and a good Marine. He's taking this too personally...”
“Want me to have a word with him?”
Jack eyed his sister, “What would you say?”
“I don't know yet...”
“Because you can't tell him much. This is all very secret.”
Lisa chewed the inside of her cheek, “I know. But he's always had your back, even when you didn't know he was doing it. I'm just worried he might... I don't know, do something impulsive?”
Jack took a deep breath and held it for a moment, contemplating. “Alright,” he sighed, “but only if it becomes apparent that you have to. And keep it to a minimum.”
“Got it.”
Jack checked the device on his wrist that replaced his UFW military TESS. The device was the most advanced available on the civilian market and had been upgraded to meet UFW standards while looking no different than any other MOBIUS unit in circulation. MOBIUS - Mobile Optical Bio Information User System. MOBI for short. The character driven software was in some respects similar to TESS, but Jack quickly recognized he was going to miss his TESS. There was something about her unique character and style.
“Not as nice as your TESS...” commented Lisa, watching her brother flip to an updated schedule screen. He just grunted a confirmation. “Don't worry,” she continued, “your TESS is in hibernation, you'll get her back.”
“Even after the improvements, I don't like the software as much,” he grumbled. “Guess I'll have to live with it for now.”
A grizzled old deckhand strolled over, his ham-sized hand extended, “Admiral,”
“Chief,” acknowledged Jack, shaking the man's hand, “what's the good word?”
The man's weathered face crinkled around his eyes and mouth as he smiled, “Retirement. We probably won't be seeing each other again; I've only got about a month left.”
Jack smiled warmly, “Good for you! Going to spend some time with the wife and kids, Chief?”
“And grandbabies,” he grinned widely. He thumbed over his shoulder at the shuttle, “All loaded and everyone aboard; they're just waiting on you, sir.”
“Thank you Chief...”
The Chief leaned closer, “Not that it's any of my business, mind you; but something tells me there's a lot more to all of this than meets the eye,” the old man whispered. He looked around like he was checking for eavesdroppers, “I don't know where you're going or what you're doing, but keep your head on a swivel, Mister, try not to get it shot off...” He winked, tossed a loose salute, turned on his heel and headed toward a passing equipment trolley that slowed to pick him up.
“Well that was...”
“Interesting?” offered Jack.
“I was going to say colorful,” replied Lisa.
“ATTEN-shun! Fleet Officer on deck!” The unified metallic clomp as the line of over fifty Marines snapped to attention, their boots stomping on the flight deck, echoed in the bay, all other motion coming to a stop. For a moment there was silence except for the thrum of the ship's engines. “SA-lute!”
Halfway to the shuttle, Steele stopped, turned to the center of the bay, the heels of his civilian dress boots snapping together as he came to attention. It was then that he realized how big his audience was, including the officers in the flight tower looking down on the deck. He snapped a salute, holding it for a moment, bringing his hand down slowly, deliberately, “CARRY on!” he bellowed.
■ ■ ■
When the shuttle's hatch popped open with a hiss, a rush of warm air entered the cabin and for a moment Jack detected a new-car smell. It struck him funny and he cracked a crooked smile as the hatch cleared the opening, folding up over the hull. He was relieved to see a mostly unpopulated bay - save for a few deckhands and a tall man about his size with closely cut salt and pepper hair and gray eyes. The man stepped forward, and extended his hand, “Captain Vastyque. Welcome aboard the UFW655, Admiral Steele.” The meaning was friendly, the tone was not.
“Jax Mercury,” Jack corrected him. “Let's never make that mistake again.”
“Of course, sir.” He looked over the group exiting the shuttle, including the two German Shepherds. “Mr. Mercury, might I inquire, what are those?” he indicated the two animals.
