THE PRIZE: BOOK TWO - RETRIBUTION (21 page)

Prisoner 9845309 put the transport squad out of his mind the moment he heard the door crash shut behind them, concentrating his attention on the four remaining guards. From within the stifling folds of the black hood, he registered each guard in turn by the sound of their movements their voices and footsteps, noting a different level of discipline here, or lack thereof. This was their turf, and they were accustomed to running things their way, regardless of who the prisoner was, or his crimes. Escaping again would have to wait for a more opportune moment. With a sharp tug, one guard jerked his hood off, muttering something or other as he did.

“Strip!” someone yelled.

The prisoner slowly complied, pulling off his filthy, blood-encrusted clothes and dropping them into a pile on the floor. Once naked, a guard manipulated the handles on the wall, and Richard Penn gritted his teeth as overly hot water and soapy de-lousing fluid cascaded from the ceiling in a painful deluge. While scrubbing himself clean, with the coarse sponge they’d thrown at him, he covertly studied his captors with a critical eye. Their appearance identified them as Esterians, a race comprising the vast majority of the Tellurian Empire’s military and prison guards. Humanoid to about nine-tenths human norm, but with flatter, smoother facial features and greater muscle mass than humans, and on average, standing about six to seven feet tall, with bright yellow skin. They were hairless except for the short cat-like fur running across the top of their heads, which, depending on their age, ran in color from silver to light gray. The other major difference was their jet black eyes with no discernible pupils. The moment the hood came off, Penn felt a change in their demeanor. By the standards of Esterian culture, he looked like a pale youngling. Penn knew from experience how adult Esterians treated their young, mostly with contempt, showing them little or no respect until they developed their first head fur and the greater muscle strength of an adult. Even though they spoke Esterian, his translation implant smoothly rendered it into real-time standard English, but he gave no sign he understood. This was the welcoming committee, and it was their job to break him in, immediately establish who was in charge, and show him his position in the food chain. The official explanation for any injuries the welcoming committee inflicted, was …'Prisoner slipped in the shower'... not that many prisoners complained after the indoctrination. That was the reason that Director Markoff had sent him here.

Penn scrubbed himself clean, ignoring the usual insults about his boyish appearance, his odd colored hair, and eyes, as well as what was in store for him sexually. From their crude comments, his introduction to that aspect of prison life would come during the full 'body cavity' search. No surprise there. He'd heard it all before. The guards kept their distance at first, but he knew by their body language what was coming as they spread out in a circle around him, at an equal distance. If they’d stayed together, they might have had a chance. Penn squeezed down on his stomach muscles in anticipation, feeling the exhilarating rush of adrenaline as his body went into overdrive. As he soaped his head and face, the four guards signaled to each other and moved quickly towards him, confident in their size, body armor, shock sticks, and arrogance. Penn used his other senses instead of his eyes, feeling their intentions, hearing four sets of heavy boots hitting duracrete as they moved towards him the moment the water stopped. As the first guard moved in, Penn went into full combat mode, already in motion by the time the first guard reached him.

Much to the guards’ surprise, they found the prisoner didn't need to see to defend himself. The first guard used, as Penn knew he would, a point attack, using his shock stick like a bayonet, aiming for the center of his chest. A feeling of exhilaration poured through his body as he spun aside to the guard's right, grabbed the offered wrist with one hand, and stripping him of the shock stick with the other, crushing the guard's wrist in the process. With his senses in overdrive, and as if by precognition, Penn knew without looking, the exact position of each guard and what he was about to do. To Penn they seemed to be moving in slow motion, and that was to his advantage. The first guard screamed in pain as Penn continued his spin, pulling the luckless individual around to smash him into the second guard, knocking them both to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. The third guard got the captured shock stick rammed into his throat as he rushed in, crushing his windpipe. He stumbled backward clawing at his throat as he collapsed in his death throws.

The fourth guard hesitated, stunned at the speed of what he'd just witnessed, but Penn didn't give him time to think or raise the alarm. He knocked the guards’ shock stick up into the air with his arm, moved into a crouch, and jammed the end of the captured stick into the guards’ crotch. The guard pushed up onto his toes as he tried to escape the hideous pain in his groin. With the guards’ hands occupied, Penn had no trouble catching and jamming the second stick into the luckless guards’ open mouth while moving the power control to full. The guard gagged as his throat constricted and convulsed. As the fourth guard collapsed to the floor, Penn calmly turned to face the second guard who'd managed to untangle himself and get to his feet. Desperate, the guard made the fatal mistake of charging in, hoping to overpower the smaller being by sheer force. Penn didn't bother using the sticks, simply dropping them and moving into a slight crouch as he easily deflected the swinging blow. Perfectly positioned, Penn slammed the heel of his right hand into the center of the guard's exposed chest in a classic death touch. The energy of the blow transferred itself through the ballistic armor and into the Esterians’ chest, stopping his heart.

The snarl on the guards’ face turned to one of shock and surprise, then to disbelief. As he sank to the floor, his expression was almost one of accusation, as if to say, 'How could you do this to me?’ as he realized he was about to die. Penn turned away and walked over to the first guard, who sat on the wet floor, holding his crushed wrist to his chest, and moaning to himself. Penn expertly broke his neck, an act more of practicality than mercy. From here on in, this established the R.O.E. Slowing down from combat mode, Penn washed the soap out of his eyes and looked around the room, seeing the guards strewn about like piles of dirty clothes. Penn slowed his breathing to normal, eyeing them dispassionately as he walked over and turned the water back on. He shook for a moment, standing under the hot water, as his anger slowly dissipated and calm returned. From now on, the 'rules of engagement' in the prison were simple. ‘You don't fuck with me... and I won't kill you.

Thankfully this time he hadn't let his anger get the better of him. There was too much at stake to let himself go berserker, as he'd done at the imperial guards’ barracks. He’d done as ordered, as much as he hated to, cursing the Empire, Director Markoff and fate in the same breath. In all, he was alone for five minutes before the steel door opened, and two guards stepped into the room, laughing and joking as they did. The first came to a standstill in shock, the second bumped into him. They both stood there blinking, unable to comprehend what they were seeing, looking between the four guards on the floor and the prisoner standing in the center of the room, humming softly as he dried himself off.

* * * * * *

“Yes, you could say I’ve run into them before. As for the Thrakee, and as you can see, there’s a lot of lizard in that gene pool.”

“Ugly suckers.”

“Yes, that’s what your last girlfriend said when she woke up in the morning and found you sleeping beside her.”

That brought a laugh, and relieved much of the tension in the room. It wasn’t every day you got briefed on a mission by the Supreme Commander, or the President of Earth. No one was sure what to call Penn and he adamantly refused to give himself a title. Not that he needed one. The first time anyone met him, they instinctively knew he was in charge. It was as if something emanated from him that everyone recognized.

“As I said, the Thrakee love to butcher their opponents to death by slicing off chunks and eating them raw while the victims watch.”

“Holy crap! That’s not a nice way to die.” Someone at the back murmured.

“There are no good ways to die, son.” A powerfully built, bald headed African American answered. Penn heard him.

“That’s the point, people. I tried to talk General Marks out of sending anyone with me, as this is personal, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“He’s right, Skipper. You can’t - shouldn’t be going at all. That’s what we’re for.”

“Normally, I might agree with you to a certain extent. I cannot fight all the battles that are to come, but now, every human life is precious. In the past, leaders have thrown away people's lives as if they meant nothing. Never again.” There was a grimness in the way Penn said those words and these men knew he meant them.

“So, what’s the plan, Chief?”

“You are lieutenant Weatherly, right?”

“Yes, Skipper.”

“The plan is for you to get me inside that building.”

“And then?”

“And then to wait and stop any reinforcements getting in, but I doubt there will be any. These people have remained secreted in their nice safe bunker all this time, and I doubt they want the rest of the population knowing about that.”

“But… that means you’ll have to face god knows how many troops inside.” The black man responded.

“You’re Master Gunnery Sergeant, Keton, right?”

“Yes sir. That I am.” A huge grin spreading across his face, proud that Penn would know his name.

“I don’t suspect they have that many troops down there with them. Logistics problems feeding that many troops.”

“No to mention aliens, Sir.”

“True, plus the added problem of inter species fighting crammed up in close quarters like that.” Penn could see the look of concern on their faces at the thought of letting their leader go inside alone. He had to find a way to calm their concerns.

“You have all been through the ‘trials’, right?”

“Yeah, first as individuals, then as a team.”

“So you know the secret that what you went through wasn’t real.”

“Well, yes sir, afterwards we did, but it sure felt real at the time.”

“Yeah, I died at least twice in there.” The man shivered.

“Do you know there are many levels to the trials?”

“We sort of figured that. I was a Captain before. Now I’ve worked my way up to Sergeant.”

“Are you going back to try and make Captain again?” The man looked at him a moment before nodding.

“I will after a while, sir.”

“Good man. Once I get inside and can recon the situation, I’ll call you in on an as needed basis, or if I run into something I can’t handle.” Before Penn could say anything, General Marks stood and walked up to the podium and stood beside Penn.

“Just so you know. Penn and Major Ellis made it all the way to the top or the end if you like. That’s why he’s the man in charge now. He won the prize.”

“A slight correction, General. Colonel Ellis and I both got to the prize.”

“Fuck!” That word summed it up for all of them.

Each knew how tough it was to pass the simplest of tests to reach their present rank, and live to tell the tale. The expression on their faces changed, and many wondered what Penn and Major Ellis must have faced to reach the top. No matter how deep you buried your fear, or flaws, the ‘trials’ would find it. No one could hide from himself or herself for long in there, and in the end you had to face what you feared the most. That begged the question of what Penn feared the most.

“So, let’s gear up and go see what we have to play with. Wheels up in thirty.”

* * * * * *

As silent as a night owl on the wing, the stealth shuttle touched down in a field three miles from the bunker and drifted sideways under the cover of some huge oak trees before settling to the ground. For the last fifty miles, they had flown ‘nap of the earth’ to avoid any possibility of the bunker defenses spotting them coming in. The radar absorbing coating and light-drinking skin rendered them invisible to all known sensors, but old habits die hard. The shuttle only stayed a few moments, just long enough for the eleven-man team to exit before it silently vanished back into the darkness. The plan was for it to land and shut down two miles away behind a hill, and await the call for extraction. On the ground behind the hill, there was little chance of anyone spotting it, unless someone bumped into it by accident. Like living shadows, the team drifted through the mixed forest and underbrush, relying solely on their heads-up display. Having shed his fake long coat, Penn used his HUD for the additional information, not because he needed it. He could see just as well in the dark as in daylight. The HUD did give him targeting information about the heat sources they came across. Deer, bears, rabbits and even a couple of wolves. They didn’t bother anything, and nothing bothered them. Half a mile out, they hunkered down just back of the hill crest and launched several bumblebee drones. A cammo poncho acted as a shelter as Penn, Lieutenant Weatherly, and Gunny Keton watched the video feed.

“Looks like it’s the Esterians’ turn for guard duty tonight.”

“So far I’ve counted ten of them patrolling the perimeter.”

“Makes sense. The Thrakee don’t like the cold. The problem is, knowing the Esterians, if one goes down it will signal the others that something is up and alert the guard room as well.”

Humm,” Weatherly murmured, “looks like we’ll have to do an assault to get you inside.” Penn gently pinched his lower lip between his thumb and forefinger, thinking and discarding one plan after the other.

“What you thinking, Boss?” Gunny Keton asked, seeing the look on Penn’s face.

“What if all the guards went down at once?”

“ ’Struth. That would really raise the alarm.”

“Maybe not, Gunny. Think about it. If one went down, yes, but if all ten went down at once, what would your first thought be?” Gunny Keton looked at his lieutenant for a moment.

“Humm… That the comm systems have gone down?”