Ephialtes (Ephialtes Trilogy Book 1) (15 page)

“First thing
you’ll need to know,” he said, “is that we’ll be operating out of one of
these.”  A ripple of excitement ran around the room.  “Now, the
fighting personnel currently stationed on these two ships have been highly
trained for just that duty, but they have no combat experience.  For this
mission they can’t afford to be sending greenhorns and that’s why they’re
sending us.”

Johnson
elbowed Foley in the ribs.  “It’s China,” he whispered.  “They’re
sending us to goddamned China!”

Soward
continued.  “But as experienced as we are
in the art of war, even we may not be fully prepared for the theatre in which
we will be expected to operate.”  He let that sink in.  “People,
there is currently a diplomatic crisis brewing with our colony on Mars.” 
That shot around the room like electricity, a low fast mumble of conversation
audible from the stage.

“Quiet, you
people,” barked Connor. 
Soward
grinned. 
He knew now he had the undivided attention of his audience.

“It’s
anticipated that this crisis will develop over the coming months and that we
will be needed to lend emphasis to the ongoing diplomatic efforts of the USAN. 
As you know, for any threat to be effective it has to be plausible, achievable
and credible.  For us to meet those criteria we will train for a number of
scenarios on the Martian surface, and from and in orbit around Mars.”  The
room was silent.  “At this stage we don’t anticipate this will come down
to an actual fighting war but, by God, we will train for it as if we know it’s
going to happen.  If we are called upon to take military action against
any Martian targets we will be ready to do just that.”

Connor
stepped forward.  “Listen up,” he said.  “This is a highly classified
mission, at this point.  We have three months until we’ll be heading out
and until then we’ll be training every day.  The boys and girls over at
Helios are working away now at the modified code for the
sims
and the drones.  Mars represents a new challenge for us and it’s one that
we will meet and excel at.  There’s some preliminary work gone on already,
so you can set your IVRs to Martian gravity and get to work on some virtual training
exercises right away. 
Myself
and Captain
Soward
will be developing more advanced and realistic
training scenarios over the next few days and we’ll get you into those sims as
soon as possible.  Practical training for this mission will not be
possible.  The only way we can replicate the 0.38 relative gravity of Mars
is in the
sims
.”  He paused.  “We’re leaving
in less than three months.  We do not know how long we will be gone. 
Get your affairs in order and get your asses in the IVRs.  Dismissed.”

Steiner,
Foley and Johnson left the meeting and headed straight to the compound’s
IVRs.  They were housed in a large shed-like building across the
drill square from the red brick building where they had just been
briefed.  Military IVRs were even more immersive than the commercial home
versions.  The shed had twenty down either side.  They took the form
of large pods with ladders up to the cockpits.  Once inside the user would
have been hard put to tell that they were not sat inside a commander combat
mech.  Very high-resolution screens played representations of the
outside world and any movement by the user was reflected in the apparent
movement of the virtual combat mech.  It was a very convincing illusion.

“Goddamned
Mars, can you believe that shit?” said Johnson.  “I thought we were going
to China, for sure.”

“Mars, China,
it’s all the same to me,” said Steiner, mockingly.  “I’m a trained
warrior, hungry for war and I’ll go wherever there’s a war for me.”

“Shit,” said
Johnson.  “Mars is so goddamned far away.  We’re not
gonna
get no R&R on Mars.”

“I don’t
know,” said Foley.  “I joined the Army because I wanted to travel, so I
guess I can’t argue with it.”

Steiner
grinned.  “That’s right, travel the world, meet interesting people and
kill them.  That’s what I signed up for, too.”

“You think
we’ll be in the same company?” said Johnson.

“Sure,” said
Steiner.  “We’ve been selected for our veteran status, so they’ll want
people who they’ll know can work together.  Don’t worry, we’ll have your
back.”

“That’s
right,” said Foley.  “We’ll carry you just like we did last time.”

“You didn’t
carry nothing, fool!”  Johnson shouted, but he was secretly glad he would
be with his old comrades.

They entered
the hall of IVRs and spoke briefly with the sergeant in charge.  He
pointed down the left-hand side and Steiner, Johnston and Foley walked
down to their pods.

“Let’s hope
the diplomats don’t screw this up for us,” said Steiner as he climbed up the
ladder.  “If I’m training for three months I want to be kicking some
Martian ass at the end of it.”

“Prepare for
peace but pray for war,” said Foley, as he slid into his IVR and closed the
hatch.  Johnson just grunted and shook his head.

Once he was
inside the IVR Steiner put his headset on then slid his arms into the full-arm
joysticks in front of him.  He issued the command ‘compress suit’ and felt
his body become engulfed by the IVR.  He spoke into the com, “Commander
Foley, Commander Johnson, do you read?”

Foley came
back, “I read you, Commander Steiner.”

There was a
delay and some quiet cursing before Johnson came over the com.  “Reading
you here, Commander Steiner.”

Steiner spoke
to his sim.  “Give me a Martian scenario,” he said.

The sim
replied, “I’m sorry, we currently have no Martian scenarios.”

Steiner
frowned.  “Okay, give me a scenario in Devon Island, Canada, do you have
maps for that?”

“I do,” the
com replied.

“I want a
medium-sized town, well defended with AA guns and guided missile
towers.  Patch Commanders Johnson and Foley into the sim.  Set the
temperature to -80°C.”

“Setting
temperature,” said the sim.

“Are you
ready, boys?” said Steiner.

“Ready,
Commander.”

“Ready,
Commander.”

“Set us down
eight klicks southwest of the
ville
.”

“Eight
kilometres southwest of the
ville
,” the sim echoed.

“Prepare to
begin simulation,” Steiner said, and then he remembered.  “One more thing,
simulation, please?”

“Yes,
Commander?”

“Set the
gravity to 0.38.”

“Yes,
Commander.  Please be aware that a gravity setting of 0.38 is outside the
bounds of a realistic simulation.”

“I know
that,” said Steiner.  “Can you please save these mission parameters to a
new template?”

“Certainly,
Commander.  What would you like to call the template?”

Steiner did
not give it a moment’s thought.  “Martian,” he said.

Foley was
lying on his bunk in the early evening when a call came through on his
comdev.  Steiner and Johnson, and most of the others, were off somewhere
catching up and putting the world to rights but Foley was just lying there,
awake and enjoying his own company.  He reached into his pocket, grabbed
the comdev and held it up to his ear.  “Hello,” he said.

“Commander
Foley?” said the voice on the other end.

“Who is
this?”

“I’m calling
on behalf of a very powerful client.  We have a job we’d like to offer
you.”

“I have a job,”
said Foley.  “I’m a Marine Commander.”

“We’re aware
of your résumé, Mr Foley, which is why we’re interested in you for the job.”

“Who did you
say you were again?”

“We’re a
private military contractor, a PMC.  We work for the most exclusive
clients, and we have a job for which you have been highly recommended.”

“Recommended
by who?”

“It’s a very
sensitive job.  If you choose to accept my client will be extremely
grateful.”

Foley thought
it might be a test.  He wasn’t going to play ball.

“Listen pal,
I
ain’t
interested, okay?” he said.

“The pay is
very
good,” the voice said, putting a huge stress on ‘very.’  “If you
decide you want in just send an email in the next two days.”

“Send an
email?  Who to?”

“Anyone. 
We’ll pick it up.”  The voice was gone.

Foley looked
at his comdev.  He had an application on it called
OutHide
. 
It traced all coms, video, audio or data to their sources.  Flicking
through some screens he found it and pressed on a big red button marked
‘Trace’.  Some text and numbers shot up the screen, too fast to read, with
larger text laid over the top that read ‘Analysing . . .’ 
The results screen appeared:  Last Incoming Call 16:18, Steiner,
Hayden.  That had been a call from Steiner in the afternoon.  The
time now was 19:09.  The caller had left no trace.

Foley rolled
over on the bunk and pushed the comdev back into his pocket.  He was
intrigued by the call, but it seemed way too suspect to take at face
value.  He wondered if anyone had called Johnson or Steiner.  Maybe
he would ask them.

Rodney
Sherman’s eyes were small and close together.  He didn’t speak much and he
moved in such a way as he never drew attention to himself.  He lived in
the background.  He could circulate as easily amongst cons and gangsters
as he could amongst senators and captains of industry.  He could talk a
lot without saying much when he needed to, or he could speak volumes with a
single word.  He possessed a quiet control which often seemed like
contempt.  But he got things done, and that was what Gerard White liked
about him.  He could fix things when they needed fixing and he didn’t
mind - in fact he seemed to positively enjoy - getting
his hands dirty.

Sherman was
sat in a booth at the back of an upmarket burger joint.  It was
midafternoon
and relatively quiet.  He had ordered a
burger and a cola but had only taken a couple of bites from the burger, and had
not touched the cola at all.  He looked at his watch.  It was
15:15.  He disliked it intensely when people were late for meetings. 
He was considering leaving when White entered via the kitchen and strode
quickly over to the booth.  He’d managed to ditch his security detail and
had an understanding with the burger joint’s owner.

“I’m sorry
I’m late,” he said.  “Had trouble getting out of a budget meeting. 
Have you eaten?”

“I’m not
really hungry,” said Sherman.

“I’m
starving,” said White, “but I don’t really have time to eat.”

Sherman
pushed the burger across the table.  “I’ve had a bite, that’s all,” he
said.  “Go ahead.”

“Really?”
said White.  “Thank you, I haven’t had chance to get a bite all
day.”  He picked up the burger and bit into it.  “Oh boy,” he said,
“this tastes so good.”

As he bit and
chewed Sherman studied him.  Through a mouthful White said, “Is it
done?  Did you manage to get someone?”

Sherman
waited a little.  He felt powerful in that moment.  “We have someone
inside,” he said.

“That’s
great,” said White.  “And he’s contactable at all times?”

Sherman
nodded.  “He or she is contactable, yes.”

“Good.”

“How do you
want to proceed?”

White chewed
and swallowed another bite of burger.  “For now, we don’t need to do
anything.  This is a precaution against what might go down in
future.  If things start to get out of hand we need a way to stop it from
the inside.”  He chewed more burger.  “But I doubt it will ever get
to that.  Always good to have a
fallback
position, though, so I thank you for that.  We get reports back if we need
them, right?”

“If we need
them.  Every communication is a risk, though.  I thought you wanted a
sleeper, just in case, not a spy.”

“Of course,
of course.  Let’s leave it at that for now.  As long as we have
someone in place, in case we need them, I’d consider this a job well
done.  Thank you, Rodney.”  He held out a hand across the table.

Sherman
couldn’t help noticing the mustard and ketchup on one of the fingers but,
despite himself, he took the hand and shook it.  “Is there anything else?”
he said.

“If anything
comes up I’ll let you know immediately,” said White.  “There’s a lot of
stuff going on at the moment.  I think that mad bastard is getting crazier
by the day.  If there aren’t elections by the end of the year I’m going to
start getting seriously worried.  But what can I do?  I’m only the
VP.”

“If you need
my help with anything, Mr Vice President, just ask.”

“Of course,”
replied White.  He felt uncomfortable as he often did in Sherman’s
presence.  Sherman always liked to give the impression he was connected to
everyone and everything, but the idea that he could help the vice president
rein in the president seemed to go too far.  Disturbingly, it carried a
sliver of plausibility.