Black Box (4 page)

One of the children Rodrigo had mothered
over the past few years sat at the table with her. While she sipped
her beer, Jason Cummings drank nothing. Cummings was getting up in
years without ever having seen a promotion. He’d hitched his wagon
to Rodrigo early on and it was holding him back. Of course,
Cummings himself was partly to blame for it. He had a goofy
personality that peers found endearing and superiors disdained.
They said he had no discipline yet there had never been struck a
black mark on his record. He could turn you on or turn you off. His
relationships were hit or miss.

He drank a silent nothing while the others
drank silent beers. They had just over an hour before they were
required to report for duty. The sky outside was a deep cloudy
grey. Even when they’d built the spaceport, Seattle hadn’t
brightened. Cummings had grown up in Seattle and hated it all his
life. Rodrigo knew his story well. He’d run to space to get away
from ugly grey skies never knowing that he’d have to come home
every mission just so that he could get away.

Also at the table with them, sipping the
same kind of beer as Rodrigo, was Fred MacDonald. Aboard the
Valor,
MacDonald ranked just beneath the sergeant. One day
soon, he would make sergeant himself and then rise higher. He was a
good soldier, hand picked for the infantry because of his steadfast
approach to all situations. He was afraid of nothing and loathed
people who showed their own fear. He had served aboard the
Valor
for three years, his career taking a noticeable turn
for the better during his tenure there. Under Captain Beckett, he
had excelled. Though he and Beckett shared no love of each other,
there was a mutual respect. Beckett had pushed him up the chart and
recommended him for promotion once about six months before.
MacDonald had turned down the promotion because he knew it would
mean a transfer and he wasn’t ready for it. Not yet. Had the
position of sergeant been available on board the
Valor
he
might have considered it, but that wasn't the case. No one got to
be sergeant on the
Valor
. The
Valor
had a permanent
sergeant.

“Um,” Cummings said, trying to start a
conversation in the sullen atmosphere.

“Shut up, Jason,” Rodrigo said.

He scowled at her.

Of the three of them, only MacDonald wasn’t
showing signs of stress. Of course, he was grouchy by nature. His
motto was
I’ll get the job done if you just stay the fuck out of
my way.
Rodrigo always thought he should have been a mercenary
instead of a UE soldier. Though his loyalty seemed unshakable, he
had almost no conscience. There had been an incident several years
back that had shown her just what kind of man he was. They had been
assigned to the
Titan
then, the lot of them. Most of that
group was now on the
Valor
, though they'd spent years
apart
.
The
Titan
was not a police ship. It was not a
warship. But they had found themselves in combat with pirates. The
space battle had been furious and both ships had been heavily
damaged. More furious than the battle was the captain. When the
pirates had broken and fled, he’d ordered pursuit. The
Titan
had chased that ship down onto a frozen world and Rodrigo and her
team had suited up and set out to get every last one of them. Ted
Beckett, a soldier himself, had been part of the squad then and
slotted into the team as
second
to Rodrigo…

The wind howled around them. Snow and ice
had accumulated across the terrain but the sky was momentarily
clear. The atmospheric readings, though, indicated that a storm was
fast approaching. They had twenty minutes to track the pirates and
bring them back. Rodrigo ordered a double-time march and the others
fell in behind her. Beckett, MacDonald, Cummings, Alraune, Knudson,
Icknor, and Bell. A bunch of children, the lot of them.

They reached the enemy vessel in less than
five minutes, their goggles frosting over every ten feet. The ship
was deeply scarred on both sides and one of the gun turrets had
been blasted into space. There were fissures lining the hull,
mostly from landing. The battle with the
Titan
had damaged
it enough that reentry had been too much for it. The ship wouldn’t
fly again. In the background, there were huge dunes made of snow up
against a backdrop of ice covered mountains.

“What the fuck are we doing?” Knudson
shouted over the wind. “Let’s just leave the bastards here.”

Rodrigo turned on him and even though her
mouth was covered and her eyes were barely visible behind the
goggles, they could tell by the angle of her head and the depth of
her goggles on her nose that she did not approve of either
Knudson’s opinion or that he had chosen to voice it. Under his own
gear, the color drained from Knudson’s face and he shut his
mouth.

“Over here,” MacDonald called. He had found
tracks.

“How many?” she asked.

“It’s hard to tell. Maybe four. No more than
six.”

She signaled the captain on the
Titan
. “They’ll be dug in by the time we reach them, sir.
They didn’t land here by mistake.”

“They tore a hole through the back of my
ship and killed two of my crew,” he replied. “Go get the
bastards.”

“You’re the boss,” she said and took
point.

Over the next rise they found that the
mountains were closer than they had appeared. Another couple of
hundred yards and they were at the base of a cliff. The tracks
skirted the base and kept close to a giant wall of rock and ice.
Rodrigo called a halt. She pointed up to several outcroppings that
lined the cliff side in the direction in which they were heading.
They were perfect for gun encampments or snipers.

The sky was turning dark and fierce.

Under her protection, Rodrigo made a face.
Unless these pirates were bad shots, she was going to lose someone.
It would take them long minutes to check every possible encampment
and longer to skirt around them out of range. Their best bet was to
wait for the storm, which was still several minutes off.

“Backs to the wall,” she ordered. Everyone
fell into line, Rodrigo still in the lead and Beckett next to her.
There was no rank insignia on his suit. There were no markings to
indicate that he was anything more than another soldier. But he
was. He was fast rising through the ranks. He would make captain, a
rare honor for a soldier. They would probably offer him a promotion
upon the
Titan’s
return. It would be a waste if he got
sniped out there on that frozen wasteland. She wished he hadn’t
come.

So she waited. She ordered silence down the
line.

The minutes went by and the wind blew up
colder and more fierce. Large flakes began to fall from the sky,
sparse at first, and then thicker. Before long they were joined by
tiny clumps of ice. It was darker than the darkest night on Earth.
Down the line, they went to night vision. Rodrigo scanned the
cliffs for any sign of movement and saw none. She checked and
rechecked every possible point and was still unsure that they were
safe. Still, she began to move them forward into the storm,
counting on its protection. The pirates’ tracks were being covered
over, but that didn’t really matter. She was certain that the
cliffs would lead them to their hideaway. It was probably a small
cave into which they had drilled out a tiny complex. It would
either be inside of a fissure or somewhere above them. Either way,
the points of entry would be unmistakable. No matter how good they
were at playing pirate, they would not be good enough to fool
Rodrigo.

There was a fissure. They almost missed it
in the storm, but MacDonald was capable despite his age. They were
almost on top of it before he picked it out, plucking on Beckett’s
sleeve to call a halt. Beckett plucked on Rodrigo’s and she looked
back. Beckett pointed back at MacDonald. Pressing his body up
against Beckett and then Rodrigo, he shifted his place in line so
that he was now in front. He signaled for them to hold position and
then began to inch forward. After half a dozen long and slow steps,
he disappeared into what looked like the side of the mountain. He
reappeared almost instantly.

Rodrigo flashed a thumbs up and continued
her advance. At the mouth of the fissure, she halted again and
waited for further information. Through a series of hand gestures,
MacDonald informed her that there was a small opening dug out into
the base of the cliff. It would be a steep descent but he was
reasonably sure it was the hideout for which they were looking. She
nodded determinedly and called Bell forward. Bell unshouldered her
pack and pulled out a small black disc. The others kept their guns
and eyes trained on the rocks above. On Rodrigo’s order, she
dropped the disc into the opening. Rodrigo ticked off three seconds
and then jumped into the hole after it. There was a bright flash, a
series of shots, and then another series of shots.

Down below, Rodrigo looked around. One dead
pirate lay at her feet. He was typical New Earth scum, skin
bronzed, hair long and tousled. They had no sense of decency. It
wasn’t fair to say that they were all pirates, but they all did
have the hearts of pirates.

The chamber in which she stood was small and
narrow. The sentry’s job had been to pick them off one by one as
they had come down, but the flash bomb had done its work. Blinded,
he had been helpless. She probably could have disarmed him and
saved his life, but it was too risky. As it turned out, he was the
only one. A narrow corridor led straight away into the rock. The
layer of ice was thinner down here and dripping. She could feel
warm air emanating from the passage. Behind her, the slope was
impossible.

“It’s a trap,” she called up to her
squad.

Then she heard shots. She ducked for cover
behind the body of the pirate, aiming squarely into the passage,
but the shots were not coming from there. They came from above. The
squad was under attack. Beckett shouted an order. Alraune cursed
and fired. Something large and heavy came tumbling down the
slope.

Rodrigo sidestepped it just in time. It was
Bell. Her head gear was torn and there was blood covering what
remained. Stripping away her goggles, Rodrigo could see that there
was no hope. She wasn’t dead yet, but the wound was bad. Edema
would set in quickly and out here on the frozen tundra there was
little they could do for her. Turning her over, Rodrigo pulled off
her pack and started rummaging through it for explosives. Above,
they were trapped. The pirates had waited until they could surround
and ambush the squad. There was only one way to go and that would
be down. They were being herded.

“Where’s Bell?” MacDonald shouted.

“Bell’s down!” came Beckett’s reply.
“Knudson’s down!”

Damn it!

“Get down here!” Rodrigo shouted to whoever
might hear her.

Bell’s stock of explosives was impressive.
She could carry a load and she did. Taking another flash bomb from
the pack, Rodrigo tripped the fuse and then hauled it with
everything she had down the corridor. By the sound of it, it went
at least twenty yards before clattering against a wall and
exploding. Bright light flooded back down the tunnel and dazzled
her eyes. Stupid. Caught in her own blast. But the grenades were
already in her gloved hands, two of them. She pulled the pins with
her teeth and tossed them after the flash bombs, one with her right
arm and one with her left. The UESF thought she was right handed
but a very young Anabelle Rodrigo had trained herself to use both
arms equally. It made her much more effective in every form of
combat.

The grenades exploded with a bang followed
by metallic, almost electronic sounding pings and zaps as shrapnel
exploded off of the walls and, hopefully, pirates. With a battle
cry, she charged after the grenades. There were two ambush points,
small alcoves each populated by a man. Even after she had killed
their companion, they had lain in wait, knowing that there was
nowhere else for her to go. They popped out of hiding as soon as
she passed, hoping to take her unawares. But she had seen them,
both of them, and was already spinning and firing. As the last of
them fell, one of her squad dropped down the hole and into the
antechamber.

“Behind you!” Cummings shouted.

Rodrigo dropped to the ground and let him
shoot over her head. She heard return fire from behind, rolled, and
added her fire to his.

“Are you hit?” she called.

“No, but I think they hit Bell.”

Makes no difference,
she thought as
she gained her feet. “Toss me her pack.”

Cummings hauled it down the corridor. It
didn’t reach and Rodrigo had to go back for it. As she turned away
again, she saw Icknor hit the ground and turn to receive a body. It
was Knudson. There was a nasty wound that could have been on his
chest or his shoulder and another on his leg. He was conscious but
unstable.

“Cummings, you’d better haul ass out of
there as soon as everyone’s down.”

He nodded his understanding.

A few yards ahead, the pathway turned. There
would be more ambush points. Rodrigo slipped out another flash
bomb. Inching her way forward, she readied for a throw.

One.

Two.

Three!

She sent it around the corner with a flick
of her wrist and a bank off the far wall. From this angle, the
flash wasn’t so blinding. When it was over, she slipped around the
bend and identified two more ambush alcoves. The men inside were
frozen, knowing better than to react when blinded. She dispatched
them easily, without delay. Again, she could have disarmed them but
with two of her squad down, she couldn't afford the hands and eyes
to guard them.

The new passage ran longer than the last one
and there was a faint orange glow at the end of it. There would be
more enemies down there. Far more than the four or six they had
been tracking. Maybe there had been more survivors than originally
anticipated and those survivors had gone in the front door instead
of the rat trap into which they’d been led. Maybe there were just
guards posted at the hideout. It didn’t matter. They were going to
clean the place out.