Vengeance (The Kurgan War Book 4) (24 page)

It was time to leave, Williams made his way to the elevator doors. They automatically slid open. He took a step out and froze. There was no elevator there. He looked down and saw the shaft disappear into darkness.
 

“I guess that was the noise we heard,” he said to himself as he stepped back. He moved to the next elevator and pressed the down button. Right away the doors slid open. Williams took a good look around this time before getting into the lift. With fifteen minutes left before the station began its fall to Earth, Williams knew he didn’t have any time to spare. The journey to the bottom of the base would take him four minutes to complete. An eternity in his mind, where any number of things could go wrong.

Chapter 34

“I’ve found something,” called out Cunningham.

Sheridan ran to his side. “What is it?”

“I can’t find any mention of an Alpha Virus, but the insurgents keep referring to something as ‘the package.’”

Sheridan knew it had to be what they were looking for. “Where is it?”

An image of the lower part of the station came up on the monitor. He pointed at the screen. “It is being held here, on the fourth maintenance floor of the lower levels.”

“Well done.”

The sound of someone pounding on the wall made both men stop what they were doing and look over. Sheridan got up. With his weapon in hand, he moved to the next office and carefully opened the door. Before he could say a word, a dozen people rushed out of the room. Some dropped to their knees on the floor and began to pray while others looked at Sheridan with relief.

“Who are you?” he asked the people.

 
A man with dark skin and a receding hairline said, “We were on duty when the station was attacked. Thank you for setting us free.”

“Well, until I tell you otherwise, I want you to round up your colleagues and get them to lie down on the floor.”

The man hesitated for a second. “Why would we do that?”

“Because it’s not over yet, that’s why.”

As if to reinforce Sheridan’s warning, all of the lights in the room switched off and were replaced with red warning lights. A split second later, with a thunderous roar, the roof in the middle of the room exploded downward and showered the floor with flaming pieces of debris. Before the shock of the attack had even set home, four dark shapes jumped down.

Sheridan pushed the man he was talking to on the floor and dove for cover. He rolled over on one shoulder and came up behind a desk. Through the smoke, he could see someone moving toward him. He aimed dead center of the person and fired off a three-round burst. The figure staggered back and crumpled to the floor.

With a curse on his lips, Cole jumped behind his makeshift barricade just as someone opened up on him. All but one of the rounds missed. He gritted his teeth in agony when a bullet cut a groove across the skin of his right thigh. It wasn’t deep. Nevertheless, the wound felt like a man with a red hot poker was running it across his leg. It didn’t take long for blood to begin to run down his leg. He tried to block the pain from his mind while he crawled along the floor trying to get to a better fire position. When he brought up his rifle, he couldn’t believe his bad luck. One of the rounds fired at him had struck his weapon’s housing rendering the weapon useless. He tossed the rifle to the ground and reached into his pocket for one of the flex grenades he had taken from earlier and squished it into a ball in his hand. Made from a malleable explosive, the grenades could be made into any shape the person using it desired. He tapped the arming button with his thumb and waited for one of their attackers to show their face.

Sheridan crept behind a tall cabinet containing a portion of the station’s mainframe computers. He quickly poked his head out and saw two men walking toward him with their weapons at the ready. He dropped to one knee, flipped his carbine’s selector switch to automatic, and waited. When he figured they were less than a couple of meters away, he swung his weapon around the cabinet and pulled back on the trigger. He moved the gun from side to side until he had emptied the magazine.The room grew silent.

Sheridan yanked his carbine back, ejected the empty magazine, and slapped home a fresh one before standing up. He peered from behind the cabinet and saw two men lying on the floor. Both appeared to be dead. To make sure, he fired off one round per man into their hearts. With three down, there was one person left to find. He edged out from behind his hiding spot and began to slowly move toward where he had seen the four insurgents jump down.

The hair went up on the back of Cole’s neck when he heard the sound of a door latch being turned. He turned his head and looked behind him just as the door to the stairs was pulled open slightly. A second later, the barrel of a rifle was thrust out. With all the accuracy he could muster, Cole threw his flex grenade down the hallway. With a wet thud, the charge stuck to the door.

A woman heard the noise and poked her head out. She saw Cole lying there on the floor and hurried to bring up her rifle to fire when the explosive went off, tearing her and the door in half.
 

Cole was about to reach for another grenade when a pair of hands reached down and hauled him to his feet. He found himself looking into a black man’s eyes that burnt with hate. He clenched his fists and slammed them home into the man’s sides. On any other man, the blows would have brought him to his knees. However, the man didn’t even flinch. Cole might as well have punched the wall. The next thing he knew, he was being thrown across the room. With a loud crash, he landed on a desk sending everything on it, including himself, to the floor. His body ached everywhere from the impact. He rolled over and tried to get up onto his hands and knees. Before he could stand, his attacker delivered a savage kick to his ribs. His body armor hardened, but not before two of his ribs were shattered. Cole smashed headfirst into a nearby desk and collapsed to the floor in agony.

“Get up on your feet and fight,” taunted the black man.

Cole raised a hand. “Give me a couple of secs, will ya?”

“There’s no time for that.” With one hand, the insurgent grabbed Cole by the collar and hauled him up off the floor.
 

With all the strength he still had left in him, Cole shot his right fist straight at the man’s nose, shattering it. The insurgent’s head never budged a millimeter. It was as if the man was made of steel.

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” the black man said as he wiped the blood and sweat from his face. “Time for you to die.”
 

Cole felt both of the assailant’s hands wrap around his throat and begin to squeeze. He reached up to try to break the man’s grip. It was a futile effort. His opponent was just too strong. Within seconds, he was gasping for air. His vision began to blur. Cole knew he was looking death in the face.

From behind them, a shot rang out.

The black man stiffened and then let go of Cole, who fell to the floor, struggling to fill his lungs with air. He turned his head and watched as Sheridan fired a three-round burst into the man’s head, splitting it wide open. He rolled out of the way as the insurgent’s body collapsed in a heap on the ground beside him.

Sheridan ran to his friend’s side. “Are you okay?”

Cole rubbed his bruised neck. “I’ve had worse days—not many, but this is a close second to them.” His voice sounded raspy and pained.

One of the freed techs found the circuit breaker and flipped a switch. The lights in the room came back on.
 

Sheridan grimaced when he saw Cole’s blood-soaked pants. “You need to get that looked after.”

“Tape it up along with my chest and I’ll be good to go.”

“I doubt that,” replied Sheridan as he helped his friend up onto a chair. He looked over at the people standing around on the other side of the room and called out, “Is there anyone here who has first aid training?”

“I do,” called out Cunningham.

Cole shook his head. “He’s as banged up as I am, this ought to be fun.”

A woman pushed the private aside and ran to grab a first aid box hanging on a wall. She moved over and began to assess Cole’s wounds.

Sheridan saw that there was nothing more he could do, so he picked up his carbine and walked to the elevator shaft and looked down. He had to get down below before Harry got away. He just didn’t have a clue how he was going to do it.

“Be careful you don’t fall in. It’s a long way down” said a man dressed in grubby, gray coveralls with a smile on his face.

“It’s not the fall I’m worried about, it’s the sudden stop at the bottom that is troubling me.”

“Just step back and take it easy. The security forces will be here soon enough to set everything right.”

Sheridan shook his head. “Sir, I’m afraid that they’re going to be too late to stop the worst from happening. If there was only a faster way to the bottom of the station.”

“There is, but I doubt you’re qualified on it.”

 
“Sir, right now I don’t give a damn about qualifications. What have you got that’ll help me get down below?”

The man hurried off and returned with a slender backpack. “Here, put this on.”

Sheridan took the pack and buckled himself into the harness. “What is it . . . a parachute?”

“No. It’s a safety ball.”

“A what?”

“It’s an inflatable ball that is designed to protect the wearer should they ever fall. Mister, I’m a maintenance engineer and spend my days working on the mag lines that keep the elevators running. If I were to lose my balance and my safety harness were to fail, I would still have my safety ball to protect me.”

“How does it work?”

“It’s all automatic. When the built-in altimeter senses that you are less than one hundred meters from the ground, the ball inflates and cocoons the person wearing it. At least that’s what we were told it would do.”

“Swell,” mumbled Sheridan under his breath. He turned and jogged back to Cole’s side.

“Just where do you think you are going?” asked Cole when he spotted the pack.

“I’ve got to stop Harry from leaving with the package.”

Cole tried to stand. “Not without me, you’re not.”

Sheridan put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Master Sergeant, get yourself fixed up and find yourself a working elevator that can take you to the lower levels. You can join me there.”

“Don’t do anything stupid like getting your head shot off.”

Sheridan smiled. He knew Cole would jump with him had there been another safety device available. “I’ll see you down there.” With that, he turned and ran back to the open elevator doors and before he could think about it, he jumped. Right away, he arched his body and brought up his arms and legs to stabilize himself as he fell the six kilometers to the bottom of the station.

“Foolish man,” said Cole under his breath.

“Uh, folks, we’ve got a really big problem here,” said a woman with short red hair and thin glasses perched on her nose, looking down at a computer monitor.

“What’s wrong?” asked Cole.

“Dorset Station has taken control the station’s computers,” explained the woman.

“Ma’am, you’ve lost me.”

“It is the backup control station for Tranquility. In the event of a catastrophe or a terrorist incident like this one, Dorset Station is supposed to take over the running of the base until control can be reestablished up here.”

“Okay, what’s the problem?”

She turned her laptop around and pointed at a timer counting back from ten minutes. “Someone at Dorset Station has given a command to the base’s power plant to drop us out of orbit. In short, if we don’t find a way to override the order, this entire station and everyone on it will burn up when we re-enter Earth’s atmosphere.”

“Why would they do that?” asked a troubled-looking man.

“The station is probably in the hands of the Chosen,” explained Cole. “It was probably their intention all along to kill everyone on this base. They just wanted to do it with the whole world watching.”

“Get ahold of the military and have someone fire a missile down their throats,” offered Cunningham.

“That won’t work,” said the red-haired woman. “Blowing up the base won’t help. Someone at the station needs to cancel the order.”

“Is there any way you and your people can take control of your computers again?” asked Cole.
 

“We can try but with the damage sustained to the mainframe during the fight, it may prove to be impossible.”

“Do what you can. Also contact the fleet and tell them to get some people to Dorset Station right away.”

“What about the people still trapped up here?” asked Cunningham.

“Order an immediate evac and get as many of them as you can to the lifepods.”

“There aren’t enough pods for everyone on the station.”

“Save who you can. Now, I need someone to tape up my ribs so I can get back into the fight!”

Chapter 35

The tension building up in Staff Sergeant Elba’s chest felt like she was trapped in a vise that was slowly crushing her until she could no longer breathe. After passing two dead Chosen operatives, she had handed off the tracking device to Rodger Ng and had drawn her pistol. Both insurgents had been killed at close range with a single shot to the head. She prayed that there was a soldier free somewhere in the lower levels taking out the Chosen, but her gut told her to be cautious. She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked back at Ng.