Junkyard Dogs 1: The Scrapyard Incident (34 page)

Chapter 66

New Ceylon Orbital Station, Central Spindle,
October 10, 2598.

Four people
gathered in the chamber below the barricaded hatch that led northward into the
area where the terrorists were known to be holding the hostages. Hal Norbert,
the same technician who had barricaded the hatch earlier, was very carefully
and quietly removing the clamps and pipes that had held the hatch against the
single attempt by the enemy to open it. Below him were Oskar Kresge, Kathy
Haines, and Tamara Carlisle. Carlisle was looking intently at her wrist comp.
Waiting in the adjoining compartment were Clancy Davis-Moore, Orville Steuben,
Jane Tresham, and Ryan Harris. Hanna Jordan was reportedly on her way up one of
the spokes, just in case there were any medical needs. Irene Marshall, a
personal friend of the Governor and his wife, was coming up to be on hand as
well.

"Okay,"
said Carlisle, "they just brought in the Governor and his wife. All of the
hostages are in the same room. Good kid! He's positioned himself where we can
see part of the corridor."

Kresge called
down the hallway. "Have the Ambassador call in...
two
minutes." His message was relayed to the communications room four levels down.

Salvador Vasquez,
currently manning the communications console, relayed back his assent.

Kresge turned to
his companions. "Remember, if we have to shoot at anything, just make
damned sure you don't hit Ezra Brimstone! He might have that nuclear device
rigged with some kind of dead man's switch."

The group waited
nervously as Norbert handed down the last of his makeshift but effective
barricading equipment and came down out of the way.

"Ezra and
two of his men just headed down the corridor to take the call," said
Carlisle.
"Two more minutes!"

Harris relayed a
message from Vasquez. "Brimstone and the others have joined the
call," he announced from the adjoining compartment.

"I'm sending
Peter his next instructions now," said Carlisle.

***

Peter Larkin felt
the inaudible signal on his wrist comp indicating that a communication was
coming. He checked the display.

"
Peter, this is Ensign Carlisle, activate
your diversion now!"

Peter loaded the final
battle scene from Mutant Carnivore Invaders and, unlike the other times he'd
played the game, turned the sound up to maximum and the display to full size.
He resumed play. The makeshift holding cell was immediately flooded with the
image and the bellow of the Mutant Carnivore Boss and a cacophony of sound from
imaginary pulse weapons, exploding missiles and other assorted mayhem. Joshua
Jericho came in from the hallway and shouted at the young man.

"Turn that
damned thing down, kid
!,
" he shouted. "Now,
or I swear I'll smash it on the deck!"

Peter looked at
the man as though he hadn't heard him. The noise and confusion of the fake
battle worked perfectly to mask the soft noises made by the rescue team working
the mechanism of the hatch, opening it, and deploying into the short corridor.

Carlisle, easily
the most agile and also the most experienced of the rescuers in weightless
combat, had been tasked with freeing the hostages. To avoid any chance of
collateral damage to the hostages, she kept her captured pulse pistol clipped
to her belt and made ready to enter the holding area armed with a stun rod. She
positioned herself on the corridor wall opposite the door to the office,
gathered her legs under her and launched her body straight at the lone guard. Belatedly
recognizing the threat associated with the newest commotion, the guard turned
and began to swing his pulse rifle towards her. She caught him with a stun bolt
to the middle of the chest from a distance of less than two meters. He slumped
and floated limply. She motioned urgently to the hostages to follow her, the
Mutant Carnivore Boss on Peter's display continuing to bellow in pain and anger
as the ersatz battle raged on.

Out in the short
corridor, Kathy Haines brought her pulse rifle, one of those captured in the
earlier altercations, to the ready as she and Kresge went past the door to the
office and moved to cover the entrance to the short corridor. They were tasked
with securing the position and holding it while the hostages were negotiating
the hatch. The Commander and the security chief stopped at the end of the
corridor where it opened into the large receiving area for the airlock. Ezra
Brimstone and his four companions, surprised by the sounds of the video game
battle scene emanating loudly from the security office, were just beginning to
react. In the nearly zero gravity conditions, their movements were poorly
coordinated. Kresge took quick aim and fired his pulse pistol at the group of
enemies gathered around the communications console, careful not to aim anywhere
near Brimstone. A man went limp and released his weapon. Brimstone immediately
took cover behind his remaining men. As he did, he called out and, after a
short delay, two men in battle armor, complete with secured helmets, floated out
from the airlock area. Using their suit
thrusters,
began to slowly and clumsily advance on Kresge and Haines. The two station
defenders aimed for the heads of the armor-clad figures and managed to score
several hits, which slowed the enemy advance, but did not stop them.

Meanwhile,
Carlisle had guided the two children down the hatchway into the arms of the
people waiting below and was holding out her hand to the governor's wife.

"You'd
better hurry it up, Ensign!" Kresge called out, "We got two guys in battle
armor coming! I don't know how much longer we can hold them!"

Carlisle grabbed
the governor's wife by the hand and, as gently as she could, given the urgency
of the situation, guided her over to the hatch opening. Behind her she could
hear the sharp bark of several pulse rifles and the higher-pitched snap of
Kresge's pistol. These were the sounds of a real battle! Peter Larkin had shut
down his game display upon negotiating the hatch. Next, Carlisle grabbed the
governor's hand and pulled him over to the hatch opening. Two hands shot out
and latched onto him, pulling him downwards. Carlisle went back into the room
and slipped Sondia Saladin's Truthseer device into the unconscious guard's
breast pocket before grabbing the guard's pulse rifle and shoving it down the
hatch. She then headed towards the battle at the end of the corridor, calling
out to her companions as she unclipped the pistol from her belt.

"That's it!
Objective accomplished. Break it off and get out of here!"

Kresge watched with
growing concern as the two battle armor-clad figures worked their way ever
nearer. Several pulse bolts had already been too close for comfort. Positioning
herself up near the ceiling of the corridor, Carlisle peeked around the corner,
took aim and snapped off a series of pulses from her pistol, scoring multiple
hits to the faceplate and helmet area of the closest armor-clad attacker. She
then repeated the performance, splashing multiple pulses across the faceplate
of the other armored terrorist.
The attackers slowed
somewhat, confused by the newly intensified and highly accurate fire.
Suddenly, to both the left and the right of the room, the elevator doors
opened. Each contained one of Kresge's men encased in a set of captured battle
armor. The newcomers opened fire, giving the terrorists no choice but to turn
and engage them, their previous quarry temporarily forgotten. Carlisle fired
another series of accurately aimed pulses and broke off, heading down the
corridor and deftly negotiating the hatch. Kresge and Haines followed, making
their own way as quickly as possible to the hatchway. With Carlisle and the
hostages already safely below, Haines wasted no time and dove in headfirst.
Kresge turned to follow her, got his head and shoulders through the hatch and
was about to shout in jubilation when he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen,
followed immediately by the harsh bark of a pulse rifle.

Then he heard and
felt no more.

Chapter 67

New Ceylon Orbital Station, Central Spindle,
October 10, 2598.

As he headed
towards the communications console near the airlock of the orbital station,
Ezra Brimstone was wondering what tactic the Ambassador and the Commander would
be taking to stall him this time around. Maybe he was going to have to kill one
of the hostages. For all of his posturing, he didn't like it, but maybe there
was no other way. If he were honest with himself, he and his remaining men
probably didn't have much time. The Ambassador had almost certainly called the
Federation authorities upon being contacted by those meddlers out in the
Scrapyard and some kind of significant Federation forces were undoubtedly on
their way. That would complicate matters considerably. Best to get this
business over with before the Federation reinforcements got there.

"Greetings,
Mr. Brimstone," said the image of the Ambassador.

"How
gratifying to hear from you again, Mr. Ambassador. Have you secured my funds
yet?"

"Just
another couple of hours or so, and we will have the full..."

The Ambassador's
words were cut off by a sudden barrage of extremely loud noises coming from the
direction of the room where the terrorists had stashed the hostages. Brimstone
heard the sound of a bellowing monster and what sounded like multiple
discharges of a pulse rifle followed by one of his men shouting.

"The
hostages!" he bellowed.
"Back to that room, now!
These fools must be trying a rescue attempt."

A pulse bolt
flashed out of the corridor where they were all heading, and one of Brimstone's
men grunted and went limp.

"Take
cover!" shouted Brimstone. "Moses! Adam! Take those people out!"

After a short
delay, two battle armor clad figures came floating out of the airlock area and
began advancing on the corridor, using their suit thrusters. Having learned
their lesson earlier, they had taken a moment to equip and batten down their
helmets. Brimstone noted, grudgingly, that the defenders in the corridor seemed
to be well-disciplined and were pretty fair marksmen to boot. They were firing
at the face plates of the old battle armor. They were scoring a few hits, but
his men continued to advance. It was only a matter of time before... Suddenly
the doors to two of the elevators, which had been inoperative for the entire
time that Brimstone had been on the station, opened up and two men in battle
armor began to engage Brimstone's armored counterparts from opposite sides of
the room. Brimstone put his head down and cursed. The defenders in the corridor
must have abandoned their post because, after a final fulsade of pulse bolts,
the fire coming from that direction had ceased.

"Forget
them, get to the corridor!" Brimstone called out angrily. In response, one
of his armor clad men turned away from the enemy and, with a surprisingly deft
use of his suit thrusters, managed to make it across the room before disappearing
into the corridor. Brimstone heard him fire a short burst from his pulse rifle.

"I got one
of 'em," the man called out.

The elevator
doors closed, presumably to whisk the elevator occupants down to the wheel.

The shooting
ceased.

As suddenly as it
had begun, the brief skirmish was over.

A quick check of
the hostage room revealed that the hostages were gone. The guard was still
unconscious and his pulse rifle was missing.

The Ambassador
was no longer on the video, the screen had gone blank. Ezra almost screamed out
loud in frustration. These arrogant fools would pay for their insolence!

Chapter 68

New Ceylon Orbital Station, Central Spindle,
October 10, 2598.

Carlisle and
Haines pulled the limp form of Oskar Kresge down into the control room while
Hal Norbert immediately went back to work replacing the makeshift but effective
dead bolt system on to the hatch. The Governor and his family had been whisked
away to somewhere deeper in the spindle. Kresge was unconscious and breathing
shallowly. Like most pulse weapon wounds, which were self-cauterizing, there
was little blood. From what Carlisle could see, Kresge had suffered a serious
wound to the abdomen and would need immediate and expert attention. Even with
that, he still might not make it if the bolt had hit something vital. A small,
dynamic woman came storming into the room and took charge of the situation.

"Out of the
way!" she ordered. "Give me room!"

The woman looked
Kresge over, examining the wound, checking his heart rate and observing his
breathing. She looked up at the other rescuers and shook her head.

"This is way
beyond anything I can do. We have to get some real medical help."

Carlisle thought
frantically.

"Medical...
Istanbul
... Ambassador...The Ambassador has
some of the most up to date facilities in this entire system on the
Istanbul
. Have Vasquez call them and
explain the situation."

"I'm on
it!" said Steuben. He disappeared down the corridor.

"Who is
she?" Carlisle asked Haines.

"That's
Hanna Jordan. She's our medic. She defected from the raiders about a day and
half ago. She's already saved the lives of several of our men."

Word came back a
few tense minutes later that anything the defenders needed from the Ambassador
or his ship was at their disposal. The cutter would be at the south end of the
spindle in half an hour with a medical module to transport Kresge to the cutter
and as soon as possible after that, to the
Istanbul
.

"Can you
stabilize him, Hanna?" asked Haines.

"I...I don't
know.
Maybe.
I don't have the right kind of
medications. I think he has a chance, though. At least he won't bleed to death.
I'll give him some of this," she held up a small vial. "It'll ease
the pain. Dear Lord! Someone better tell Irene Marshall."

"I'll get
word to her," said Haines as she headed for the communications room.

Soon after Hanna
administered the drug, Kresge groggily regained consciousness.

"Ahhh...,"
he groaned weakly. "Feels like I got hit by a groundtruck!"

A spasm of pain
contorted his body.

"Don't try
to talk, Commander," said Hanna, as she checked his pulse. "You'll
only make things worse."

"Hanna?
Hanna Jordan?"

"Yes,
Commander, it's me."

"...was
supposed to tell you something...Caleb..." Kresge swooned and passed out
briefly. A moment later he groggily came back to partial consciousness.
"Where's Carlisle? Harris?
Haines?"

"I'm here,
Commander," said Carlisle. "Harris is down in the communications room
and Haines is somewhere between. We're going to transfer you to the
Ambassador's ship. They can give you better care than you can get here."

Kathy Haines came
back into the room.

"Irene?"
Kresge gasped.

"Irene is on
her way right now," said Haines. "She should be here any
second."

"Get...
 
Harris!"

Kresge seemed to
be getting weaker and weaker as he faded in and out of consciousness.

"He's
coming," said Haines. "He had to get someone suited up to work the
airlock and be ready to transfer the medical module. Ah, here he is now."

Harris, Vasquez, Steuben, and Gibbons all croweded into the room.

"Commander!"
said Harris, pushing over to the wounded man. "How bad is it?"

"I don't
know," said Kresge, almost whispering now. Another spasm of pain went
through him. He stiffened for a few moments and then relaxed. "It sure as
hell hurts, though." He swallowed and closed his eyes from the pain that
caused him. Over the course of the next thirty seconds or so, the drug that
Hanna Jordan had given him started to take effect. Showing renewed strength, he
reached out and grabbed Harris by the wrist.

"You have to
take command of this group, Lieutenant!"

"But
Commander..."

"No buts,
Harris! These are good, brave people but they need a leader. You commanded the
group that took out both of the enemy gunships. They need someone with that
kind of track record. Besides...," he stopped and smiled weakly, "you
have the best tactician in the entire quadrant as your second in command. What
do you think, Dan, Kathy,
Sal
?"

The leaders of
the Resistance looked at one another and nodded almost without hesitation.

"We're with
you, Oskar," said Haines. "We can get it done, but we need the
military leadership. These two succeeded against impossible odds out in the
Scrapyard and I've seen this woman fight! They've got my vote!"

"You heard
them,
you're in charge, Harris. That's an order!" As
though this final exchange had used up all of his remaining reserves, Kresge
slipped back into oblivion.

"As the
Commander says, Lieutenant," said Haines. "You're in charge now.
What's next?"

Harris stared at
the unconscious Kresge for a few a long moments before tearing his gaze away
with an effort. He looked straight at Carlisle. She could see the pain in his
eyes over concern for his friend and mentor. Whether or not there was any of
the self doubt that he had admitted to her on two previous occasions, she
couldn't tell for sure. She came to a stark realization. These people, this
young Lieutenant in particular, had not just tolerated her with all of her
peculiar traits and her unconventional background, they had embraced her. Not
since she had left her distant home nearly four years ago had she felt as
though she really belonged anywhere. She suddenly realized that she would do
anything for these people...and, she finally admitted to herself, for this fine
young officer whom she had fought side by side with against almost
insurmountable odds for virtually the entire time she had known him.

"Lieutenant?"
she said, gazing directly into his eyes. "I'll follow you anywhere. But we
need to get a move on!"

Harris saw the
sincerity and concern and...
the
hint of something more
in those beautiful sea-green eyes and, he too, came to a realization: with this
incredibly capable woman at his side he felt -- no, he
knew
-- that he could accomplish anything!

"Ah...
Let's
get the Commander down to the airlock. Where's the
Governor? I'll need to talk to him. Oh, and prepare to get that maniac on the
com in five minutes, we don't want him setting off that damned nuclear
device!"

In the near
weightless environment of the orbital station spindle, Hanna Jordan, Carlisle
and Haines easily handled the unconscious Commander. Harris thought of
something else that needed tending to.

"I want at
least three armed personnel watching that hatch. We don't know what these
bastards will do now!"

The small group
and their new commander headed southward down towards the auxiliary airlock.
When they arrived, the cutter was still about ten minutes out. Hanna checked
Kresge's vital signs yet another time. He was stable and breathing, but his
heart rate was very high and his color looked awful. There was nothing to do
for the time being but wait for the cutter to arrive.

"So you're
Hanna Jordan?" said Harris.

"Yes, I
am."

"Pleased to
meet you, I'm Lieutenant Harris and this is Ensign Carlisle."

"You two
came in from the Scrapyard?"

"Yes."

"Do you know
what happened to the two ships that went back out there?"

Hanna looked as
though she was about to cry. Harris and Carlisle looked at one another.

"Hasn't
anyone told you about your husband?" asked Harris.

"No, they
haven't." Her anguish was obvious. "Do you have news?"

"It has been
pretty hectic around here. Kresge was supposed to tell you. That must be what
he was mumbling about a few minutes ago. Hanna... Caleb Jordan is on board the
Ambassador's ship."

"He's
alive?" Her look was cautious, as though she were afraid to believe.

"Yes, he and
someone named Jessie survived the destruction of the first ship. It's a long
story, but we managed to take Caleb prisoner and we brought him back with
us."

Caleb is alive!
Praise the lord!"

"That's not
all," said Carlisle. "The Ambassador's wife is a Truthseer. She's
convinced that Caleb is telling the truth about your innocence of any
involvement in the Brotherhood's plot."

Harris grew more
serious.

"Hanna, we
need you to tell us about Ezra."

"I don't know
how much help I can be; he had me fooled completely. But I can sure try. What
do you need to know?"

"Well... he
claims to have a nuclear device."

"He what?"

"We think
that he might actually have a nuclear device. He could have gotten it from the
same place that he got the pulse weapons for those two ships."

Hanna paled.
"Lord, have mercy!"

"Caleb says
that you've known Ezra since he was a kid in your Sunday worship classes. I
have to ask you a really important question."

"Okay..."

"We already
know that he has no qualms about killing people, though I'll admit that most of
his victims so far have either been military or security personnel. Here's my
question: Do you think he would use a nuclear bomb to kill over three thousand
innocent people?

"I...I need
to think about that..."

"What kind
of a kid was he? Was he a bully?
A victim?"

"He was a
beautiful child. As you can see, he grew up to be a very nice looking
man." She thought for a moment. "Because of that he's always been
rather vain. He was also something of a conniver, very good at getting others
to do things for him. Never much for sports...come to think of it, he never was
much of a fighter either.
Couldn't tolerate any pain at all.
I guess I've always thought he was a bit of a coward.

"This is very
important, Hanna," said Harris, watching her closely. "Do you think
he would kill himself to kill all of us? Would he commit suicide?"

"The boy I
knew twenty years ago wouldn't. The man that he has become...I can't be sure
but... I don't think so. In spite of how he's twisted things, he's very strong
in his faith. To us, suicide is a mortal sin." She shook her head. "I
wish I could be more help to you." She stopped for a moment.
"How...How is Caleb?"

"When we
left him, he was fine," said Carlisle. "He was confined to his room,
but it was a room fit for a king. He's a lot better off than we are!"

Any more
conversation was cut short by the arrival of Irene Marshall who came in with an
anguished look and went straight to Kresge's side.

"How is he,
Hanna?"

"I...I don't
know, Ms. Marshall. He's hurt pretty bad but it doesn't look like there's any
damage to his heart or his lungs. The Ambassador's ship has some up-to-date
medical facilities and a doctor on board. He'll get the best help they can
provide."

Irene took
Kresge's limp hand in both of hers and brought it to her cheek.

"You can't
die on me, Oskar!"

Kresge swooned
back to partial consciousness upon hearing Irene's voice.

"Irene?"
he asked weakly. "Irene, is that you?

"Yes, Oskar,
it's me."

"Will you
marry me?"

Irene's eyes
filled with fresh tears.

"Oskar, you
can't be serious..."

But Kresge had
slipped back into unconsciousness again. Irene didn't know if he had heard her
or not. She looked at the two newcomers. She dabbed at her eyes with a
handkerchief.

"Sorry, it's
just that he means so much to me. You must be Lieutenant Harris and Ensign
Carlisle," she said.

"That's
right, Ma'am," said Harris.
"Fresh in from the
Scrapyard."

"Oskar was
so proud of both you. Now..."

"Easy...Ms.
Marshall," said Harris. "He's not dead yet. Why don't you put a suit
on and go with him? We can do without you here for a while."

She seemed to
brighten up at the suggestion.

"Thank you,
Lieutenant. I'd like that."

She left for the
adjoining suit room. A couple of minutes later, the medical module arrived from
the cutter and was brought in through the airlock. Hanna, Haines, and Carlisle
did their best to gently put the Commander into the module and seal it up. Two
space suited figures, one them Irene Marshall and the other one of the
Ambassador's men from the
Istanbul's
cutter, took the module out through the airlock and brought it on board the
sleek little craft. The airlock door closed. Just a few minutes later, the
cutter swiveled around and headed back towards the
Istanbul.