Vengeance (The Kurgan War Book 4) (23 page)

Like an evil Jack-in-the-Box, Wendy jumped out of an empty forty-five-gallon drum. She had her flare gun in one hand and a ball-peen hammer in the other. She dashed forward, grabbed ahold of the two injured men’s weapons before they could react, and tossed them behind her.

One of the two insurgents saw her and reached up to grab her only to receive a hard whack from the hammer on his hand, shattering the bones. He screamed in agony and pulled his hand back.

Tarina crawled out from under the plow and brought her rifle to her shoulder. She looked down at the two bloodied men. “If you value your lives, you won’t do anything stupid!”

“Screw you,” responded one of the men.

“Wrong answer,” said Wendy as she brought the hammer down on the man’s right hand.

The man howled in pain and reached for his crippled hand with the other.

Wendy stood up. “What do you want to do with them?”

“We’ll tie them up and leave them here,” replied Tarina.

“You can’t do that,” protested the man Wendy had just hit.
 

“Why not?”

“Because we’ll die out here, that’s why. You’re in the military, it’s your job to look after people, not leave them to die.”

Tarina got down on one knee and jammed the muzzle of her rifle into the man’s face. “The role of the ADF is to protect Earth and its colonies, and right now, you are the enemy. Just like your boss said, I don’t have the manpower to look after you anymore.” With that, she stood up and looked over at Wendy.

Five minutes later the men were tied back-to-back on the floor of the shed. Wendy had gone through their pockets and taken everything she thought would help them. “Now what?” she asked her friend as she placed the two insurgents’ rifles in the cab of the vehicle.

“As I see it, we’ve got two options,” replied Tarina, tapping her hand on the side of the plow. “We take this beast out of the shed and try to find some help or we try to rescue our comrades trapped in the station.”

“We could be driving for hours out there and never come across a soul. Do you have any idea where the nearest military installation is? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

Tarina shook her head.

“Well, I guess that settles it. How do you want to do it?”

“There’s no point in being subtle anymore. I say we take the plow out for a drive and see what or who we run into.”

Wendy smiled. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road. Someone is going to have to answer for killing Carmen, and we still owe Angela a trip back home.”

Together they climbed up into the plow’s cab and brushed the shattered glass from the bench seat the before sitting down. Tarina crossed her fingers as she pushed down on the start button. With a loud growl, the vehicle’s engine came to life. She brought up the plow blade from the ground, changed gears, and smashed her foot on the accelerator. With a loud crash of splintering wood, the front door to the shed flew apart. Snow and cold air blew in through the holes shot through the windshield.

“Which way do you think we should go?” asked Tarina.

Wendy pointed out into the dark. “Left—turn left and then drive until we hit something.”

Chapter 33

“How’s it going?” Cole asked Cunningham.

“Not too bad,” responded the technician as he wiped away the sweat that ran like a river from his brow. In the past hour, Cunningham had pulled most of the wiring out and was going through them one at a time. It looked like a rainbow had exploded from the electrical box. “It should just be another couple of minutes and I should have it.”

“That’s good because I’ve got to use the loo.”

Sheridan on a rung below them looked up. “Hold that thought until I’m not underneath you anymore.”

With a focused look on his face, Cunningham pulled out a couple of new wires and cut them with the knife in his hand. “This should be it. Once I tie these together, the brakes should unlock, and if the magnetic power running up and down the shaft is still on, it shouldn’t move.”

Sheridan and Cole looked down as the young tech stripped the wires and began to weave them together. They soon heard the clicking noise of the magnetic breaks unlocking one by one around the elevator. For a second, it hung there as if Cunningham’s plan had worked. That was until it dropped like a rock straight down the elevator shaft. It fell for what seemed like an eternity until it crashed into the bottom of the station.

“Sorry,” said Cunningham.

“I’m sure no one heard that,” said Cole with a deadpan look on his face.

“Let’s get moving,” said Sheridan as began to climb down the ladder.

“What about me?” asked Cunningham with a worried look on his face.

“Climb aboard,” said Cole. “I’ll carry you down.”

The young private swung his arms around Cole’s neck and hung on for dear life as he hurried after Sheridan. It didn’t take them long to reach the floor with the station’s computer mainframe on it.

Sheridan held a hand out to Cole and said, “Hand me the ax and I’ll pry the door open.”

“I would if I could. It was jammed in the elevator doors when we jumped. It’s somewhere between us and the moon by now.”

“Damn it,” muttered Sheridan. They were having no luck.

“This isn’t as bad as it looks,” said Cunningham.

“Why do you say that?” asked Cole.

“Because they won’t have cut power to this floor. I still have your knife which I can use to open the door.”

“Not meaning to sound overly critical, but the last time you said you could do something, you destroyed our elevator,” said Sheridan.

“I know I can do this. It’s very simple. There are lasers in the corners of the doors. All I have to do is interrupt the beam and the doors will slide open.”

“Wait,” said Cole helping Cunningham off his back and onto the ladder.

“When I count to three, you pop open the door and then get the hell out of the way while the captain and I make sure the coast is clear.”

Sheridan took his carbine off his back and made sure that the safety was off, as did Cole.
 

“Sir, when the doors open, I’m gonna chuck these inside,” said Cole holding out the two non-lethal flashbang devices he had taken from the dead insurgents in the greenhouse. They looked like a pair of oversized gray marbles. In reality, they were highly efficient non-lethal weapons. Upon detonation, the grenades caused temporary blindness and deafness to anyone within ten meters of the device.

“Ready?” Cole asked.

Sheridan nodded and steeled himself for the coming fight.

Cole counted back from three. The instant he hit one, Cunningham tripped the beam and the doors slid open. With a toss that would have made a pitcher proud, Cole threw the stun grenades into the middle of the room before ducking down and taking cover.
 

An insurgent saw the elevator doors open and turned to see what was going on, when one of the flashbangs landed at his feet. A second later, the devices exploded. A bright flash followed by a deafening roar filled the confined space, incapacitating everyone not behind cover.

Sheridan and Cole hauled themselves into the room and right away split off in opposite directions. Sheridan advanced to the right with his back against the wall with his carbine at the ready. Cole moved to the left. The outcome was never in doubt. Four of the Chosen agents had been laid low by the grenades and were shot as they struggled to get to their feet. One man, who had been snoozing in a side office, rushed out to see what was happening and was cut down by Cole. The last insurgent to fall was caught trying to reach for a communication device that had been knocked to the floor by the concussion blast from one of the grenades. Sheridan fired off a quick burst into the man’s chest, sending him to the ground, dead.

Seconds later, Cole and Sheridan met up in the middle of the room.

“Clear,” said Sheridan.

“Clear,” repeated Cole. “Captain, if they didn’t hear the elevators crashing into one another, you know the folks in the control center one floor above must have heard the grenades going off.”

“I know. You cover the stairs while I haul Cunningham up here and put him to work.”

Cole nodded and began to push over a couple of filing cabinets to create a makeshift barricade for himself.

“Give me your hand,” said Sheridan to Cunningham.

The young tech gritted his teeth and climbed up into the room. The acrid-smelling smoke from the flashbangs still lingered in the air. The technician flinched when he saw a dead insurgent lying on the floor next to a computer console.

Sheridan gave Cunningham a chair to sit in and another one to rest his broken foot on. He placed a hand on the technician’s shoulder and said, “Now I need you to access the control mainframe computers and find something called the Alpha Virus.”

“What’s that? I never heard of it.”

Sheridan’s voice turned serious. “What it is, is not important. Can you gain access to those computers and find it for me?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Where do you need to go?” Sheridan asked looking around the room filled with computers.

“Over there,” replied Cunningham, pointing at an office with a tech support sign above the door.

Sheridan rushed to wheel him over.
 

Harry Williams stared in shock and disbelief at the video feed from the cameras on the floor below his. His blood began to boil as he watched Sheridan and Cole slaughter all of the people he had left to guard the station’s mainframe. They were supposed to be dead. How they had escaped did not matter. The fact they were still alive made him want to scream at the top of his lungs.

“Sir, what do you want to do?” asked a woman with blonde hair and a stocky build.

Williams brought up a hand to silence her. He had to think. His original plan lay in ruins, but that did not bother him. It was Sheridan. His friend used to play by the rules. He took a deep breath and cleared his troubled mind. He turned and looked at the blonde-haired woman. “Give me an update on our people on Mars and the fleet’s evacuation plan for the lower decks.”

“Sir, according to the news, the last of our detainees have boarded the transport ship and will begin its jump out of the solar system in the next five minutes.”

“What about the fleet?”

“They have docked fifteen ships and are awaiting our signal to embark the humans from the lower levels.”

A light went off in Williams’ head. “Open all the elevators but two up here. Release the locks on every door and airlock on the station. Let’s see how they handle a rush of people who think they are about to be abandoned to their fate.”

“Yes, sir,” said the woman.

“Someone get me Dorset Station on the screen,” commanded Williams.

A few seconds passed before Emil’s face appeared on the display. “Good evening, sir, how are things going up there?”

“Not good. I had anticipated some pushback by the humans, but a couple of them have been able to disrupt my plans with annoying regularity. How are things down there?”

“I had to kill most of the station’s personnel as a security measure.”

“Understood. Emil, I need to alter the plan. In fifteen minutes’ time, I want you to take control of the station from down there and destabilize the spaceport’s orbit. I need it to come crashing down through Earth’s atmosphere. Have it hit somewhere in Europe . . . Rome perhaps.”

“I can do that.”

Williams paused for a moment to look into his fellow conspirator’s eyes. “You do realize that this means we won’t be able to come and rescue you.”

Emil nodded. “My people and I aren’t afraid to die. We have rigged the base to blow the instant the humans come to retake it. Sir, the fact that our families have been released from that hellhole on Mars is blessed news. You have worked a miracle.”

“You are among the blessed children of the Kurgan Empire.” With that, Williams ended the conversation. He looked around the room into the faces of the people standing there. The look in their eyes told him they were ready to sell their lives as well. “I need you to cover me while I get to the bottom of the station and retrieve the virus.”

A black man with a British accent said, “Sir, it would be our honor to kill the infidels for you. Give us the word, and we will kill them all.”

“Of that I have no doubt. Whatever you do, don’t use the stairs. They’ll be waiting for you.” Williams stepped back and pushed a chair out of his way. He looked down at the floor and smiled. “Set some charges in a circle here and then drop down on them through the hole.”

“Yes, sir,” replied the black man. With a snap of his fingers, a couple of men ran over and began to move the furniture aside so they could lay their charges.

The blonde woman held out her hand, “Good luck, sir. In these past few hours, you have done more to bring the humans to their knees than all of last year’s fighting combined. Thank you for letting me be apart of this historic struggle.”

“You’re welcome, Hillary,” said Williams, shaking her hand. He walked to the black man’s side and looked him in eyes. “Luck in battle, David.”

“Luck in battle, sir.” His voice brimmed with confidence.