Never Surrender (The Empire's Corps Book 10) (4 page)

“Of course, Brigadier,” Stewart said.  He was smart enough to realise that Jasmine wanted to talk to Paula alone.  “Carl will accompany us.”

Stubbins looked as though he wanted to protest, but wisely said nothing as the two marines escorted him away.  Jasmine watched them go, then turned to face Paula.  The older woman - and she was sure Paula was older than she looked - was watching her with a mixture of amusement and respect.  Maybe, Jasmine reflected, if she’d had a different life she would have made a good marine.  There was something about her that suggested she would never give up.

“So,” Jasmine said, “what’s a nice girl like you doing with a scumbag like him?”

Paula shrugged, running a hand through her brown hair.  Jasmine had never cared much for her appearance - there were stories of recruits fleeing in horror when they discovered they had to have most of their hair cut short - but she had to admit that Paula had done a remarkable job of keeping her looks, despite spending years in a POW camp.  Indeed, she could have passed for someone on the streets, if she’d wanted. 

“He’s not actually that bad,” Paula said.  “All bark and no bite.”

Jasmine gave her a sharp look.  “Really?”

“Oh, yes,” Paula said.  “He let me run his life on Wolfbane and ... and I just went into exile with him, when Governor Brown took over.”

“Exile,” Jasmine repeated.  “Is that what you think of it?”

“James thinks he will return in triumph, one day,” Paula said.  “Governor Brown will run into trouble and need to recall him.  On that day, he has grand plans for killing his enemies and securing his place once and for all.”

She shook her head slowly.  “I don’t think much of his old patronage network remains, if any.”

“Governor Brown has more competent subordinates,” Jasmine said.  Admiral Singh was working for him now and, whatever else could be said about Singh, she was a very competent Admiral.  “There’s no hope of a recall, I think.”

Paula sighed.  “I thought as much,” she said.  “But he did have a habit of putting friends in odd places.  He might still have some contacts on Wolfbane.”

“Keep him under control,” Jasmine said.  “His contacts might come in handy, later on.  If they’re still there.”

“I’ll do my best,” Paula said.  “But he sees you as his first real chance to make a break for it.”

Jasmine rolled her eyes, rudely.  Stubbins had been in the camp for five years; surely, he’d had enough time to spot the weaknesses in the defences.  Maybe he just hadn’t had the nerve to try to burrow under the fence while wearing his birthday suit ... or maybe he’d clung so tightly to the prospect of being recalled that he’d purposely not considered trying to escape.  Or maybe he was just an idiot ...

“You stayed with him,” she said.  Someone as intelligent and capable as Paula could have found another posting, surely.  “
Why
did you stay with him?”

“It was that or being reassigned,” Paula said.  She met Jasmine’s eyes.  “I had a feeling I would have been reassigned to the pleasure corps, if I were lucky.  Staying with him seemed the better idea.”

“I see,” Jasmine said. 
She
would never have whored for her postings, but perhaps she would have felt differently if she’d joined the Imperial Navy instead of the Terran Marines.  “We will see how it will all work out.”

She looked up as she heard Stubbins returning, escorted by the two marines.  “I have a plan,” he said.  “I know what will distract the guards.”

Jasmine lifted her eyebrows.  “How do you plan to distract the guards?”

“Naked ladies,” Stubbins said.  He grinned, boyishly.  “There are a number of women in the barracks.  A couple of them can strip naked and try to seduce the guards ...”

“Except the guards will almost certainly be suspicious,” Jasmine pointed out.  She’d considered something similar, but her half-formed plans had always died when she’d realised the risks.  A naked woman was an obvious distraction, while a dressed woman was simply not distracting enough.  “They will think she’s trying to keep them busy.”

“Or she will be raped,” Paula added, sharply.

“Then we modify the plan,” Stewart said.  “Have two naked ladies run out of the barracks, chased by a pair of half-naked men.  It will look like a relationship gone badly wrong ... the guards will look and laugh, rather than think it’s a distraction.”

“Particularly if we do it in the rain,” Jasmine agreed.  “We’d want to do it in the clear, if it was a distraction.”

She considered it, quickly.  Nudity did tend to attract attention, unless the watchers had been brought up on worlds where public nudity was considered acceptable.  But the women would be taking considerable risks, even if the guards were on the other side of the fence ... she didn't like the idea, but she couldn't think of anything better.  A riot might be ended, quickly and brutally, by the guards pointing their guns into the camp and opening fire.

“Very well,” she said.  She looked at Stewart.  “Round up a couple of women willing to bare all for the plan, then organise a pair of men to serve as chasers.  Tell them we want it to look serious, but slapdash.  Make the guards laugh rather than cry.”

“Of course,” Stewart said.  “When do you want to leave?”

Jasmine looked up at the sky.  It was a pale blue, but based on past experience it would be raining within the hour, perhaps sooner.

“I’ll get Kailee ready, then we can finalise our plans,” she said.  “We’ll have to strip off too and be waiting near the fence.  It will take some doing.”

“And then we will wait for you,” Stubbins said.  “I will see you get medals for this.”

Jasmine bit off the response that came to mind.  “Thank you,” she said.  She exchanged a telling glance with Paula.  “But let’s keep them until we’ve actually escaped, ok?”

Chapter Four

There were also practical considerations.  If the only thing POWs could look forward to was slow torture, starvation and death, why would they want to surrender?  Even if they were trapped in a hopeless position, fighting to the last might seem a better option than surrendering to certain death.

- Professor Leo Caesius. 
The Empire and its Prisoners of War.

Meridian, Year 5 (PE)

“I hear thunder in the distance,” Austin said.  “My infallible intuition tells me we’re going to be drenched in a few minutes.”

Darrin snorted.  Five years of practically being a brother to Austin and he
still
wasn't quite used to his friend’s sense of humour.  But then, five years of having to fend for himself on Meridian had taught him more than he’d ever dreamed possible.  Earth had been a joke, a bad joke ... and now it was nothing more than a fading dream.  He tried not to think about Earth these days, even when the occupiers had offered rewards to anyone who could tell them what had happened before the planet died.  There was no point in dwelling on the past.

“Maybe it’s just someone farting in the distance,” he said, as he crawled up to the vantage point overlooking the camp.  “They were feeding the prisoners beans last time I checked.”

He reached the vantage point and peered through the camouflage netting, down towards the POW camp.  The occupiers had insisted, at gunpoint, that the settlers build the camp for them and, reluctantly, the settlers had done as they were told.  They’d built it some distance from any settlement, just in case the POWs proved to be violent criminals.  But none of the POWs the watchers had observed had seemed anything other than pathetic white collar criminals, if that. 

It wasn't a very well designed POW camp, he knew.  The carpenters hadn’t wanted to spend more than the bare minimum of time on the barracks, so they’d built very basic transit housing and little more.  But it would suffice to keep the prisoners relatively clean and dry, as long as they didn’t spend too much time running around in the downpours that afflicted Meridian every three or four hours.  And it would keep them in, as long as the guards remained alert and the prisoners remained listless.  None of them, male or female, had seemed particularly bent on escaping ever since they’d been dumped on Meridian.

But now there were new prisoners.  And they looked like soldiers.

“Makes you want to know what’s happening out there,” Darrin said, looking upwards at the rapidly darkening sky.  “Where did these newcomers
come
from?”

Austin shrugged.  He’d been born on Meridian and would probably die on Meridian, utterly unaware or unconcerned about the greater universe beyond the atmosphere.  Darrin didn’t really blame him; Meridian was a good place to live, but it demanded full attention from its settlers.  The planet was nowhere near heavily populated enough to support a spacefaring civilisation or a space-based industry, assuming it ever got the chance.  Wolfbane might have pre-empted any hope of Meridian becoming more than a stage-two or three colony world.

“It doesn't matter,” Austin said.  “All that matters is that they are
here
.”

“I know,” Darrin said.  “But we need to know if we can find allies to get them out.”

He shifted position, carefully spying on the watchtowers surrounding the camp.  The guards seemed content to rotate between the watchtowers and a tiny set of barracks, rather than try to visit Sabre City or return to orbit.  It made little sense to Darrin, but then he’d been born on Earth.  Maybe the guards had come from yet another colony world, rather than Wolfbane or Earth.  Or maybe they were just afraid of the consequences for leaving their posts.

“I make it fifteen guards within view,” he said, after a moment.  “You?”

“Sixteen,” Austin said.  “There’s a guard walking around the edge of the fence.”

Darrin followed his gaze, then nodded.  “Still thirty guards in total, as far as we know,” he said.  “The remainder must be catching up on their sleep.”

He smiled as a peal of thunder split the air.  Once, it had been hard to sleep on Meridian, when the silence of night was frequently broken with thunder and lightning, but now he was used to it.  The guards had been there for nearly a year, since the last prison drop; they’d probably grown used to it too.  Another peal of thunder echoed over the valley, followed by a gust of wind that blew warm droplets of water into their faces.  The thunderstorm was growing closer.

“Must be,” Austin said.  “And do you have any bright ideas for getting them off our planet?”

Darrin shook his head.  Everyone was armed on Meridian, from five-year-old children to old grannies and granddads ... and it hadn’t made the slightest bit of difference when the Wolves had arrived.  The settlers could overwhelm the POW camp and the spaceport any time they liked, but what would it get them, when the Wolves held the orbital station in their clutches.  They’d wiped a couple of farm settlements off the map when they’d first arrived, just to make it clear who was in charge.  And they could destroy much of the settled lands in short order, if they wished.

“All we can do is wait and watch,” he said, finally.  “There’s nothing else we can do.”

He thought, briefly, about Gary, one of the handful of people forced to work for the occupiers.  Gary and he had never really been friends, but he'd hoped that Gary would work with them against the occupiers.  Someone working in the spaceport would have been in a good position to spy on the Wolves, yet the bastards had been one step ahead of the settlers all along.  They’d taken Kailee as one of their hostages and Gary wouldn't do anything to risk her life.

And that shouldn't be a surprise
, he thought, as rain started to patter down around them. 
Who would have expected him to wind up with her
?

“So it would seem,” Austin said.  The rain grew stronger, obscuring their vision.  “Let’s get down to the shelter and wait.”

Darrin nodded and followed his friend back down to the hidden shelter.  There, they could wait out the storm and then get back into position until relieved.  And then ...

He shook his head.  Watching the guards had taught them a great deal about just how careless they were, even on a harmless planet, but none of the intelligence was any use.  They’d been idiotic enough to fall into routine patterns, all of which could be used against them ... if the goddamned Sword of Damocles hadn't been hanging over their heads.  All they could do was wait, watch and hope that someone bigger and nastier than Wolfbane threw them off the planet before it was too late. 

Dropping into the shelter, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. 

“Wait,” Austin said.  “What’s that?”

Darrin looked up, sharply.  Austin had far better hearing than him, as well as a handful of other minor genetic modifications; it was quite likely that Austin could hear something over the downpour, even though Darrin himself could hear nothing.  The deluge seemed to be overpowering everything, hammering the shelter so hard that it might collapse, if it hadn’t been built by expert carpenters.  And yet, Austin could hear something ...

“Come on,” Austin said.  “Hurry!”

He opened the hatch and led the way into the pouring rain.  Darrin sighed, then followed him back towards the vantage point, feeling water cascading down from the skies and soaking his jungle camouflage until it clung to his skin.  Lightning flashed high overhead as they reached the vantage point and peered down towards the camp.

“And what,” Austin said, “is that?”

***

Private Victor Toal hated Meridian.  It rained all the time, particularly when he was on guard duty, and there was absolutely nothing to do in their free time, apart from watching porn on his datapad and pacing around the edge of the camp.  He’d hoped they would be permitted to visit the nearest city, or at least have some fun with one of the prisoners, but they’d been told, in no uncertain terms, that they were to do neither.  They weren't even allowed to hire a woman or two from the city to cook, clean and serve them while they were off-duty.  And, to add insult to injury, the lucky bastards on the orbiting station had far more leeway to do as they pleased.

But he knew better than to question orders.  He’d been inducted into the army after he’d lost his part-time job on Wolfbane and he’d seen enough examples of just what happened to people who questioned orders to keep his mouth firmly closed at all times.  The sergeants who’d trained him had forced anyone who dared ask questions to perform hundreds of push-ups, while later officers had shot men who’d asked questions on active duty.  All he could do was carry out his orders and hope the next posting, wherever it was, had beaches, babes and no actual enemies.

He reached the top of the tower and nodded to Private Guzman, who passed him the binoculars with a smirk.  Victor glowered at him; the lucky bastard could go back to the barracks and have a lie-down, before cooking something inedible for dinner.  The settlers had plenty of food, he knew from bitter experience, but the guards weren’t allowed to eat any of it, just because it might be poisoned.  Victor knew it was nonsense - the POWs had eaten heartily without getting ill - yet, again, he dared not question orders.  He’d just have to put up with rations until they were finally sent home.

“Most of the buggers have gone inside,” Guzman said, in his horrible accent.  Victor had no idea where he’d come from, before he’d been conscripted into the army, but it had to be somewhere right off the beaten track.  “Just a couple of fuckers at the edge of the fence, staring at the jungle.”

Victor looked ... and sighed.  They weren't women and that was all he cared about.  A downpour turned the shapeless prison outfits into clingy bathing costumes, but there were no women in view.  If they couldn't touch, at least they could look ... he shook his head, then half-heartedly scanned the barracks for signs of trouble.  The prisoners hadn't tried anything in five years, but he knew better than to slack off
too
much.  If the CO saw him taking a nap in his tower, or ogling women for longer than a minute or two, he knew he would be in for a beating. 

A scream split the air, dragging his attention towards one of the nearest barracks.  A naked woman -
two
naked women - were running out of the barracks, screaming as though the hounds of hell were after them.  Victor stared, watching in awe as their breasts bounced, trying to catch a glimpse of the space between their legs.  The women were trying to cover themselves as they ran ... a man appeared, running after them, his pants hanging down around his knees.  Victor couldn't help laughing as he tripped over his pants and fell face-first in the mud.  Another man, wearing a pair of orange underpants and nothing else, followed the women, screaming something incoherent about strip poker and bets being bets.  He tripped over the first man and fell on top of him, while the women ran, screaming and giggling, towards the end of the fence.

Idiots
, Victor thought, as he adjusted his binoculars as the women ran past him.  They didn't look bad for girls who had been trapped in the camp for five years; their buttocks still looked shapely, as if they’d been working out constantly.  He followed them as the men picked themselves up and gave chase, still screaming about bets.  No doubt they’d been playing games with the women, Victor decided, and now the bitches were trying to welsh out of the agreement.  Maybe they’d offered to put out if they lost the game.

He watched the men as they chased the women in and out of the next set of barracks, alternatively helped and impeded by other prisoners as they stepped out into the open air, despite the falling drizzle.  The other guards were watching too and calling out bets, trying to guess when the women would be caught and what would happen to them
when
they were caught.  Victor wasn't sure
what
the guards should do if the prisoners started to fight each other; their orders were to keep the POWs safe, but also never to go into the camp itself.

“Get a hose,” he said, as one of the women slipped on the mud and fell to her knees.  Mud clung to her skin as she scrambled upwards, just before one of the men caught her and started to drag her back towards the barracks.  “We might need to separate them before it goes too far.”

“Or we could just watch,” another guard said.  “This is better than porn!”