Rich Man's War (15 page)

“Crewman,” Vanessa nodded, shaking his hand. She turned her attention back to Tanner. “I thought you were on the capital honor guard now?”

“Temporary duty on
Joan of Arc
,” he answered, his brow furrowing. “Does the Intelligence Service keep track of me or something?”

“
It’s not my job, but I’m sure somebody does. I’ve just had a personal interest since your story broke. We’ve had a few things in common.”

“Like?”

“Wish I could tell you,” she smiled ruefully. “My job doesn’t work that way.”

He paused for a second, trying to catch up with that. “Then should you be bringing it up?” he wondered.

“Far as you know,” she shrugged.

“…wait, what?”

“Sanjay, Tanner, you two good to go?” asked Lt. Booker as he returned. An older man in a suit accompanied him. Tanner figured he must be the consular. “That shoulder okay?”

“Fine, sir.
” Sanjay pulled his combat jacket back on. “What’s the plan?”

“The security systems here tracked the trajectories of some of those missiles down to a few specific buildings while we were getting shot at. If we can take those snipers out, we’ll have a clear path for a rooftop extraction. But they’ll obviously stay mobile, so we’ll have to go room to room to find them.” As he spoke he brought up a flat projection from his holocom to show an overhead map of the neighborhood. He highlighted a particular apartment building, tracing out a route to it from the consulate that took advantage of several points of cover.

“Normally that’s marine work,” the XO explained, “but they’re a little short-handed for a job like this and we’re wearing better protection than they’ve got, so we’re gonna help them out. The marines will take one building and we’ll take another. Cervantes will stay here to run comms for the consulate.”

“We’re going for the apartments there?” asked Sanjay. “That building looks like a nice enough place to have decent security. Sliding doors and computer locks like they’ve got here. No old fas
hioned hinges and doorknobs.”

“Got that covered already. The marines are loaning us a bumper unit. Not exactly subtle, but we don’t have time for subtlety. Borrowed a couple chaff grenades, too.”

“What about the ship, sir?” asked Tanner.

“She swung around to make sure
Argent
has a safe landing and starts collecting people without any problems. Don’t worry, she’ll be back when we call for her.”

“Gentlemen,” spoke up the suited man, “I cannot stress enough to you t
he importance of engaging in absolutely minimal violence.” Tanner caught the slight wince in Booker’s eyes, but if the other man noticed, he ignored it. “Archangel cannot afford to become embroiled in a civil war
or
a conflict with whoever comes out on top in this mess. The one thing we must not do is escalate this situation further.”

“Wait,” Sanjay scowled, “aren’t they
shooting
at us?”

“We can’t prove who ‘they’ are, Crewman,” Vanessa answered before the suited man could reply. “Those snipers probably aren’t wearing uniforms or identification. The bad guys here want some level of deniability until the last second so they can wash their hands of this in case it all goes wrong. As long as they have to do that, they’re limited in how much force they can use. If that goes out the window, they can use whatever the hell amount of force they want.”

“And then Archangel is obligated to respond,” added Tanner. “Or at least there’ll be a huge political fight back home over whether or not we do anything about this.”

Vanessa pursed her lips a
t Tanner’s suggestion, but whether she was impressed or amused, he couldn’t tell.

Sanjay cared little for such concerns. “Motherfuckers shoot at me, I’ll shoot back. It’s that simple.”

“I understand how you feel, er, Crewman,” said the suited man, “but you have to understand that if we handle this poorly—“

“Mister Regan,” interrupted Vanessa, “I think they understand the situation. Why don’t we let the military types handle this?” She took his arm and began leading him away, tossing the XO a quick glance as she moved.

With a quick gesture, Booker got both of his crewmen on their feet and gathering up their gear. “Did she say anything to you?” he asked quietly, looking over his shoulder again.

“What, the spy lady?” Sanjay chuckled. “Didn’t say much. I think she wanted Tanner’s autograph.”

“Not the impression I got,” Tanner frowned. He slipped his arms through the straps of his medic pack, tightening it down and then scooping up his rifle and helmet before walking out of the room with the two men. “I’m not sure what she wanted. Is she part of the consulate here, sir?”

“I’m probably not supposed to say anything,” replied Booker. “Just thought I should ask.”

They followed a marine guide down to the bottom floor and through a service hallway toward the back of the building. A handful of frightened and concerned people crossed their path along the way, all of them mindfully staying clear of the windows. Tanner guessed that most of them were consulate staff, but a few looked like they might be dependents, or perhaps tourists or expats who were closer to the consulate than the spaceport when the warning to evacuate went out. He saw a few small suitcases and other belongings, and even one or two children in the mix. Some people were clearly more ready than others.

He also saw more than a few faces look up with recognition in their eyes as he passed. Some turned to their friends and whispered. A couple pointed.

Eventually, Tanner put his helmet on and slammed the faceplate down.

At the rear entrance, they found a couple more marine sentries armed with rifles. Like several of the others, they still wore dress uniforms under their protective gear. Booker talked his crewmen through a
simple weapons check, then opened up his holocom screen once more, reminding everyone of their planned route. Then he looked to the pair of marine sentries. “We’ll clear that wall faster if someone’s there to give us a boost. You two up for it?”

“Yes, sir,” the two answered without hesitation. “That wall’s built to hold up against a truck, sir,” one of them added. “He won’t be able to shoot through it, at least, and we’ll put a chaff grenade over the wall after you. Might give you a couple more seconds of cover.”

“Good. I’ll take the lead. We’re first,” he said, gesturing to Tanner and himself, “then help Sanjay here and then get back inside. Any questions?”

Tanner glanced briefly at Sanjay before he spoke. “Sir,” he said, “don’t take this the wrong way, but, um… have you had infantry training?”

For a second, Booker plainly didn’t know what to say. Then he let out a breath. “Not a whole lot, no,” he admitted. “Boarding team school and a couple of orientation classes at the academy. That’s about it. But I can’t let you go out there alone and the marines are used to working with their own.”

“Sir, I’m not saying you should stay,” Tanner shook his head. He felt relieved that the XO didn’t explode at his question. Many officers certainly would have in the same situation. “I’m just… those snipers are probably watching the exits, and they’ve had time to study the layout here. The chaff grenade might scramble any fancy electronic targeting, but not an optic scope, and the smoke will spread only so far. They know where to watch when we run for cover.”

Booker glanced to Sanjay, who merely nodded in agreement. “Suggestions?”

“Just that we should know to expect
it. Don’t stay under one bit of cover for long. One, two seconds at the most, and don’t run in straight lines or at a constant pace. You don’t want to give him a chance to predict your movements or focus in on a spot where you’re hiding.” He thought for more to say, then shrugged. “That’s what they taught us in weapons and tactics school, anyway. I’m not pretending I’ve done this for real before, either.”

“No, it’s better than nothing,” said the XO. “Good advice, Tanner.
Thanks.”

“Tanner?” piped up one of the marine sentries. “Holy shit, are you Tanner Malone?”

The faceplate on his helmet prevented anyone but the XO from seeing Tanner wince. “No time for it now, gentlemen,” Booker said. “We’re out of here at the count of three. Ready?” he asked, giving everyone a chance to get set to the sides of the door. “One… two… go!”

The metal door to the rear of the consulate slid up in a flash. The group rushed out in the next instant. A small patio area lay between the door and the rear wall of the consulate property. Tables and chairs for small receptions and the like sat arranged in an elegant fashion.

Tanner slipped up with the wall to his left. A marine held his hands low with fingers knit together for him and grunted, “Good luck, buddy,” as Tanner put his left foot in the man’s hands and lunged upward. The burly marine gave him a bigger boost than he’d expected; Tanner meant to grab the wall with his left hand and swing his right limbs over, but found himself turning and moving all too fast. In a single second, he went from executing a well-planned move to flailing over the side of the wall. “Shit!” he blurted out before the concrete sidewalk rushed up and clobbered him from head to toe.

He heard the chaff grenade go off with a boom as he rolled away from his spot of impact, wanting to stay mobile rather than give the sniper a chance to zero in on him. The fall left him feeling a bit shaken, but adrenaline and his protective gear blunted the pain.
Just wouldn’t be combat if I managed to do anything gracefully
, he thought as he rushed for the nearest parked vehicle.

Pieces of concrete burst from the street beside him as he got under cover. His gaze swept in an arc to find his shipmates. Both men had already made it further along their path.
Tanner also noticed the small depression in the consulate’s outer wall caused by the sniper’s bullet at about the point where he had fallen.

Not far away, the chaff grenade continued to send smoke, burning bits of phosphorous and loud pops in every direction. Much like the disruptive effects of chaff missiles on ships, the device served to throw off the high-tech aids offered by modern sniper rifles. Bouncing signals and thermal trackers couldn’t work through such a mess, though the distraction would be short-lived.

Tanner put his own advice to use. He dove out from behind the vehicle and then rushed forward and slightly to his right, breaking into a full run as soon as he was behind the cover of a tree rather than pausing to let the sniper keep up with him. Once more, small chunks of concrete exploded behind him as a bullet ricocheted against the street.

The urban landscape left Tanner feeling like a gunman lurked in every window. Escaping the snipers felt more like an outcome of random chance than a payoff for his tactics or speed. He spotted Sanjay and Booker at the edge of the alleyway up ahead. They’d both made it. He swallowed his rising fear and shifted over to his left again as he ran and deliberately slowed his pace for a second rather than breaking into a dead run like his gut demanded.

Another bullet cracked against a wall beside him just as he reached the edge of the street, vindicating his choice to rely on training rather than letting his flight instincts get the better of him. Two more such shots ricocheted around him as the sniper made a last desperate attempt to hit Tanner before he was out of sight, but then the young crewman was in the shadows and behind cover.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffed, painting himself into the nearest doorway in the alley. He glanced down the alleyway to the tower of glass and steel
looming above them across the street, and then spotted a pair of marines at the tower’s base, running for the entrance. Tanner hoped the snipers were so focused on him and his comrades that they’d failed to spot the marines entirely.

“You okay?” asked Booker.

“Yeah. You?”

“We’re good,” he nodded. Though their run had taken them barely forty meters, adrenaline and fear had all three men breathing heavily. “Okay, through this building and on to the next.
Ready? Tanner, you take the lead.”

Booker reached for a button near the door and found it unsecured
. The door slid up without any trouble. Tanner moved in, bringing his rifle up and at the ready and sweeping it from left to right to take in his surroundings. He saw only boxes and refrigeration units, quickly remembering from the map that this was some sort of coffee shop or restaurant. Tanner pushed on with his shipmates following, hoping neither he nor they would accidentally blow away some terrified civilian hiding inside.

The optic systems in his helmet worked perfectly, though
jamming signals still blocked communications. He could not see the status lights of his teammates on his heads-up display, but the on board computer still overlaid every bit of Arabic text in sight with a soft green English translation. Though the system offered potential distractions, it also eased movement through a foreign environment. In truth, Tanner hadn’t gotten far in his first classes in Arabic. The translation program made it easier to identify exits, storage closets and bathrooms.

They found no one within the main room or the hallways. Empty chairs and tables still held food and drinks. As Tanner initially suspected, people here knew to go to ground when the shooting started. He moved with his rifle at the ready just as he had been taught. The reflective part of his mind found the empty dining room eerie and sad, but he
couldn’t dwell on it. This was only one of three buildings he had to pass through on the way to their target.