Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Turmoil Page 20

  The Priman soldier nodded resolutely, then proceeded at a brisk walk down the corridor with the rest in tow. He held his weapon in a two handed grip similar to what the local humans seemed to favor, a move encouraged by the balance of the weapon.

  Soon enough, they were at the hatch that lead into what Tana had described as a large reception area. She'd provided detailed information, even the most common locations for the pair of Marines to be monitoring. All of Salvor's operatives stacked on the door, four on each side, with Salvor a step behind so as not to get in the way. These eight had drilled the entry for a week straight, and he didn't want to wreck their timing.

  The one with his hand on the manual release turned to look at Salvor and nodded once, indicating readiness. With one measured breath, slowly inhaled and exhaled, Salvor was ready. He nodded and raised his weapon.

  "So you're telling me the Primans introduced this part of the galaxy to grilled Moliar ribs?" Loren asked with some amazement.

  "The Moliar was merely modified by us to become a food animal," Krenis continued, "but the process of marinating and then glazing it with sauce while cooking was our contribution to preparing it properly."

  Loren realized Krenis looked proud of himself, and well he should. It was one of his own favorite meals, and when properly prepared- a day-long process- it was one of the divine joys of the mortal plane of existence. At least, that's how Loren explained it to people.

  He was about to ask Krenis for recipes when a commotion caught the corner of his eye. Behind the soundproofed glass, he hear nothing, but what he saw made his heart stop and sent a shiver up his spine. Nine Drisk, all armed with powerful weapons, came boiling through the hatch from the outer vestibule. In precision movements, they darted to both sides of the doorframe and all covered their own sectors of the large reception area, engaging anyone that moved. It wasn't a chaotic shootout; it was a low-blast-count elimination. Only a handful of blaster bolts were fired. The Marines received half a dozen each before they'd turned to engage. The Qualin who Loren had talked to upon entering fell in a heap at his desk, as did several others around the room. The Drisk then started leapfrogging through the space, covering each other while a few at a time moved. They were halfway through the lobby before they noticed Loren and Krenis in the holding cell; Web, Merritt and Cory were all sitting back against the wall with the door in it and weren't seen.

  A flurry of blasts pummeled the glass on Loren's side of the interview room, shattering the glass and sending a shower of pieces of the tempered material all over Loren and the room. He dropped to the ground and rolled to the forward wall where the glass viewports had just been shot out. If they were going to come for him, they'd have to walk right up to the wall and take a peek; he wasn't going to cower at the back wall and make it easy for them to see him.

  The two Drisk cautiously trotted up to the viewport and held their weapons out in front, slowly crossing the threshold into the space. Krenis just stood there on his side of the glass, transfixed by the scene in front of him. He saw Cory and Merritt simply waiting in their defilade position, the enemy's view of them obstructed by the wall they were approaching. Cory and Merritt saw the gun barrels of the two Drisk attackers poke through the shattered glass and start pointing down towards Loren, and that was when they took their shots. The two Confed officers each put double taps into the chests of the attackers, who fell back to the ground. Web bolted out of the door and into the corridor, SSK drawn, then held his position while Cory and Merritt joined him. By the time Loren had gotten up and followed them, Merritt had checked on the two Drisk and declared them KIA.

  They all turned their attention to the rest of the attackers, who had disappeared down one of the prisoner blocks.

  "Oh damn," Loren muttered. Everyone turned to look at him. "Guess who's down that wing?"

  "Is it a Priman Representative whose name rhymes with shmelk?" asked Web.

  "Yes," replied Loren grimly. He quickly glanced around the space, taking stock of his surroundings. The reception area was eerily quiet; no alarms were blaring, there was no stomping of boots that indicated reinforcements were on the way. "I don't think anyone knows what's going on here," he started, and received knowing glances from everyone. It was up to them.

  "Ok," he said, starting to pick up steam and speak faster as too many ideas tried to make their way out at once. "We need to set off some sort of alarm. We also need to block those people from leaving with Velk."

  "There's only one way out of here unless they have a pallet load of explosives," said Web confidently. "And since they came in this way, I doubt they plan to leave through a hole in the wall. We can back up and defend the checkpoint where we came in. We use the hallway as a kill box just like the woman said, and we set off her alarm." Left unsaid was the fact that if she hadn't been able to trigger it, it probably meant she was out of the picture.

  "Let's do it before they get back," Loren agreed. "Element of surprise and all that." He turned to head out of the reception area, then stopped to pick up the two assault rifles by the dead Marines. "We'll put these to good use for you," he said softly to the soldiers.

  "Web," Loren called out, and tossed one to the younger pilot. Web checked the charge and, like Loren, holstered in own SSK, which went into standby and remained ready to fire. Loren grabbed the spare magazines and power cells and they all took off for the checkpoint at a dead run.

  The charged down the hallway and Merritt ran into the small armored office where the woman who'd let them in lie on the ground. Merritt did a double take, though. She'd taken a blaster round right in the chest, and her uniform was blackened and burned away, showing scarred, red and blistered skin underneath. However, she was still breathing in shallow, quick breaths.

  "She's alive!" Merritt yelled to Cory, who ran to join him. They gave her a quick once-over and figured she probably didn't have any neck or head injuries. It was safer to move her than leave her where she was, considering the impending gunfire.

  "It's the nanites," Loren said as he peered through the door frame at Merritt and Cory's efforts.

  "But they're for her leg," Cory countered.

  Web, having learned a little bit about nanites from Halley lately, chimed in. "Even if they're in there to keep her leg attached, they'll still have basic medical programming. She probably has an implant to keep them suppressed, otherwise they'd use up all her spare calories and fat to keep repairing every cut and scrape she got, never mind cell damage from aging. But she has to live with these, so she's on a high calorie diet anyway and since they're already inside, they'd kick in to save her life."

  "Tell me how you know all that trivia, young man," the Lieutenant asked weakly, trying to hold her head up to see Web.

  "I know somebody who's dealt with them," Web answered vaguely.

  "Don't move," Merritt cautioned and put his palm on her shoulder to keep her down. "We'll help you up together and then get you out of here; we don't have much time before those Drisk come back through."

  "Then let's stop gossiping like little girls," she said gruffly. "And somebody hit that alarm button under the countertop."

  Salvor was pleased. They'd pacified the reception area with ease thanks to the information Tana had given them. He'd left two men to guard the area and clear an interrogation cell while the remaining seven had marched down the cell block to Representative Velk's holding cell. He even knew which door to access.

  One of his team placed a small breaching charge on the lock mechanism and stepped back, showing three fingers. They all turned away, and exactly three seconds later the charge blew inward to completely punch through the metal plating.

  In an instant, two of the others were attaching magnetic clamps to the smooth door and pulling the halves apart to reveal the sparse cell within.

  Standing there in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind his back and a calm look on his face, was Representative Velk.

  "Representative," Salvor began as he walked in and stood at attent
ion before the senior official, the former Commander of the entire Priman military.

  "Operative," Velk replied calmly. "Excellent work. What is your plan?"

  "I have a team of twelve, nine inside and three outside waiting with vehicles. We have a short timetable so if you are prepared, we'll leave immediately." He offered Velk a handgun, which he took and inspected.

  "I shall follow your lead."

  Salvor led the way back to the reception area, but something was wrong. It was too quiet; his two operatives were nowhere to be seen. His other men noticed it as well and quickly fanned out into a skirmish line as they crossed the open space.

  "Sir!" one of them called, hand waving to get Salvor's attention before the man bent to his task. Salvo arrived to see the two men dead, each expertly shot twice in the chest where they must have been inspecting the interview room that they'd gone to clear.

  "These soldiers' rifles are missing as well," added another of Salvor's operatives, indicating the fallen Marines.

  "Our presence is no longer secret; we need to move fast," Salvor commanded.

  "Is there a problem?" asked Velk.

  "There appears to be at least one enemy combatant on the loose, most likely armed with a rifle gained from these dead soldiers," Salvor explained with clinical precision. "We need to move before alarms are triggered. If need be, I will call in my men from outside to attack any position this enemy soldier tries to defend. We will still escape, Representative."

  Loren and the rest had decided to try to hold the outer reception area adjacent to the Lieutenant's armored redoubt. From there, they could at least withdraw into the maze of corridors in the building proper and make the enemy fight for every junction along the way. Hopefully, those Drisk would eventually run out of ammo, and Loren was also spending a lot of time wishing the building's security staff would arrive faster.

  The Lieutenant had configured her computers to send the data to a small data pad they'd found in a drawer. The device had been powered down, and upon inspection it started right up. With Loren and Web carrying the big guns and Cory holding up the injured Lieutenant, Merritt watched the pad so they could monitor the security feeds without being seen from the end of the long corridor.

  "There they are," Merritt muttered softly as life signs showed up leaving the hatch at the far end. There were seven Drisk and one Priman.

  "What does a bunch of Drisk want with Velk?" wondered Cory, grasping her SSK as she readied herself.

  "We can ask them after we shoot them," Loren replied grimly.

  Loren and Web, by virtue of carrying the rifles, were poised on each side of the hatch, with Web, Cory, and the wounded Lieutenant piled up behind them on either side. The hatch was dead, a victim of the same EMP that had knocked out the Lieutenant's station in the reception area.

  "We'll let them get about halfway here before we shoot," ordered Loren, eyes on the life sign monitor in Merritt's hand.

  Salvor was as nervous as he was ever going to get. Walking down this hallway was driving him mad. They were totally exposed, and the fact that there were no alarms or troops wearing powered armor waiting for them at the far end did nothing to calm his nerves.

  He was contemplating throwing his precious spare EMP grenade just as a precaution, and grabbed it with his left hand and thumbed it into standby.

  Chapter Eleven

  "Now!" Loren yelled, and he and Web each leaned around the door frame just far enough to bring their rifles up to their shoulders and fire. There was no need for finesse or subtlety; in the confined kill box, the enemy had nowhere to go. Loren just let a long burst of blaster fire go on full auto and noticed peripherally that Web was doing the same. In a split second Loren saw all seven Drisk plus Velk at the back; the next instant the first two men in line were toppling backwards, blasterfire scorching their bodies as they fell in a heap.

  Salvor saw it coming and grabbed Velk by the front of his prisoner uniform, pulling them both down to the ground behind the operatives. Two of his men went down instantly, cut to pieces by the withering fire from the powerful assault rifles being fired from behind the doorframe. Everyone hit the ground, unceremoniously using the lifeless bodies of their comrades as makeshift barriers to the continuous fire coming from down the hall.

  As soon as everyone was down, they returned fire. The handguns plus two repeating carbines spewed high energy blasts back at their attackers, taking great chunks out of the interior wall, doorframe, and even the corridor out beyond the reception area. Salvor could hear screams from bystanders in the distance now and knew stealth was no longer a consideration.

  "Grenade out!" Salvor yelled and tossed the small device towards the door. His men knew what to do, and he reached over to Velk to grab the Representative's weapon and place it in standby mode so it wouldn't be fried by the EMP.

  "Grenade!" yelled Web as the little device came flying through the threshold and landed in their midst. Everyone leapt away from it and ended up flat on the floor, hands over their heads. All they heard was a quiet thump and a whine that rapidly escalated up beyond the range of their hearing.

  "Why didn't we just explode?" asked Merritt.

  "Who cares?" yelled Web as he scrambled back to the door. "Just keep shooting!"

  Web and Loren each made it back to their original positions in the doorway and sighted down their barrels. Loren pulled the trigger and was rewarded with nothing. No click, no priming charge whine; the weapon was a brick.

  "What the hell?" he said as he looked desperately at Web, who had discovered the same fatal problem with his own rifle.

  Web's potential response was interrupted by a torrent of blasterfire which chopped away further at the doorframe, sending shrapnel and shards of cinder block from the reinforced walls flying. Loren couldn't help himself; without realizing, he risked a peek around the corner and saw the remaining five Drisk and Velk charging full speed at their position; they had only seconds.

  "Fall back!" yelled Loren, and reached across the open doorway to grab the wounded Lieutenant as Cory darted across during a let-up in the firing. The five of them shuffled, dragged, and pulled each other down the side hall as fast as they could to the next junction where a crossing corridor met with theirs. They ducked around the corner just as the five soldiers plus Velk burst through the hatch, expertly dividing up the sectors to cover all angles as they decided what to do.

  "Motherless sons of..." Loren muttered as his hand brushed his SSK. He tossed the dead Hammer rifle on the floor and drew his SSK. If he was going down, it would at least be with his trusty sidearm in his hand. To his amazement, he heard the weapon's priming charge recycle. Thinking fast, he manually forced it to prime itself again, and this time was rewarded by a fully functioning shots-remaining display.

  "Web!" Loren called excitedly. "Reprime your SSK; mine survived that EMP in standby mode." Without waiting for a reply, Loren swung out into the hallway and sighted on the first Drisk he saw, who caught Loren's movement a second later. By that time, however, Loren had sent a double tap downrange at him and hit him in the chest, dropping him as his comrades turned to pour fire back at Loren's position. Loren drew back behind the cover of the intersection as blaster fire flew down the hallway. Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was quiet.

  "Oh no they don't," he said angrily as he peered around the corner to see two fallen Drisk alone in the corridor. Overcome by emotion, he wasn't thinking about concealment or covering fire as he sprinted headlong down the hall to the intersection he and his people had initially been defending. He looked around the corner in the direction of the screams he heard in the distance and saw the fleeing forms of the five enemies.

  "Right behind you," Web yelled as he caught up to his boss, and Loren took it as his cue to move. Together, the two of them raced for all they were worth, Web edging ahead.

  Despite the tasteful and bright decor outside of the military holding area, they were still several levels underground, and found themselves always a few junctions
behind their quarry as they ran, occasionally trading potshots with their quarry. The alarm had locked out all the elevators and lift tubes, so they raced up stairs and across ramps, getting farther and farther from the likelihood of security forces intercepting them; it was up to Loren and Web to stop the escapees.

  They reached an entry atrium, a two story area which was the terminus of a dozen different corridors and moving walkways. A pair of civilian security guards was just reaching their place at the doors as the Drisk charged across the space. Without breaking stride, the first two men shot the security guards down and ran past them through the doors.

  There were too many civilians to fire while running; Web drew up short and looked down the sights of his SSK, blowing out his breath as he tried to line up the long shot across the expansive lobby. He pulled the trigger once; he was rewarded as one of the soldiers covering the rear jerked and stumbled off course, dropping a few steps later.

  "Go!" yelled Web and he and Loren again charged for the doors, determined to cover the space and catch up outside.

  "Halt or we'll open fire!" they heard from behind and above them, but it didn't register. A few well-placed blaster bolts hit the ground between Loren and Web and the doors, causing them to pull up short.

  Loren spun in place to look at whoever had fired the shots and saw a dozen armed civilian guards wearing full body armor, on a second floor balcony overlooking the atrium, each one pointing a HMR-12 at him and Web.

  "Drop the weapons!" yelled the one in charge.

  Loren was careful to keep his SSK pointed towards the ground but couldn't bring himself to drop it, not yet. "We're with Confed!" Loren yelled angrily. "You have an escaping Priman and three Drisk running through the streets and getting away!"