His breath was forced from him when an invisible fist plowed into his abdomen. He returned the favor with a few punishing jabs of his own.
Both were augmented, evenly matched. So when Williams’ fist met his opponent’s ribs, he could feel the other man’s CNT-reinforced bone give way under his own enhanced onslaught.
Gonna hurt like a bitch until your mednano catches up to you, Williams thought in grim satisfaction, wishing certain parts of his own anatomy had been a bit more reinforced.
He grabbed the man’s collar in a vicious twist, and was rewarded by a wheezing sound. Maintaining the chokehold, he drove the back of the man’s head once more into the plascrete floor, just as the man drove both fists into his kidneys.
Pain radiated across his lower back, and Williams’ grip slackened the slightest bit.
It was enough. With a single, powerful shove, his opponent threw him off.
Williams flew across the corridor, shoulder slamming into the wall with a disturbing crack. The jolt sent fresh waves of pain slicing across his torso. He remained in a crouch, one arm wrapped protectively around his side as he scanned the hallway. There was a small displacement of air, and then the area grew still.
His attacker had fled. Williams didn’t need the sudden return of his Link to tell him that. But he sure as hell hadn’t expected it to light up like a friggin’ meteor shower.
<Gunny, what the fuck? I’ve been trying to reach you. We’re under attack.> Bruno’s mental voice sounded clipped.
With a groan, Williams straightened, fingering a split lip. <Status report?>
<Veefs. South end of the field. Mortar rounds, mostly. We sent ‘Toon One’s first squad; they’re sorting the fools out as we speak.>
Williams hissed as he probed his lower back. Some of what he was feeling must have telegraphed itself to the AI.
<You okay, Gunny?>
<Been dealing with an attack of my own. Node’s been stolen. Disker in a stealth suit.>
Bruno let loose with a litany of curses. <Those Mickies are gonna kick your ass for that one, Gunny.>
<They’re going to have to get in line. My ass has already been kicked. So have my kidneys.>
<Need a medic?> the AI asked, and Williams sent a negative headshake.
<Coasties have a first-aid station on the ground floor. I’ll grab something on my way out. Do me a favor. Tell the commander I recommend we put the sector on lockdown. No one in or out without prior authorization.>
<You got it, Gunny.>
He’d known something was about to go down. He should never have let himself get distracted by the false alarm at the airfield hangar.
The timing of that was rather convenient, despite the assurances of the AI based at Teka’s spaceport. What Bruno had sensed as a potential security breach turned out to be a Coastie working on the ammo requisition for Bravo Company.
Or so the spaceport’s AI claimed.
Williams still doubted the late-hour request, but when Bruno questioned the AI about the Coastie, she’d gotten testy with him.
<Lieutenant Sands has been here at Teka sector for seven years, Sergeant. Don’t you think I’d know if she wasn’t who she claimed to be?> the AI had responded, her tone sharp. <Her record is exemplary, as is her dedication to the job. She could have waited until tomorrow to fill that order, you know.>
Williams had told Bruno to stand down. <Back off for now. Just let me know if anything enters or leaves the airfield.>
<Sure thing, Gunny.>
* * * * *
Katelyn flinched as the first explosion rose above the storm, before she realized what it was. Clarke must have sent the signal to the freedom fighters. If she was going to get out of here, she’d better hustle. She hoped Clarke had managed to break away from Williams and make it off the base without any more trouble.
How did Sergeant Asshat manage to find us, anyway?
She hoisted the node higher in her arms and turned her feet toward the hangar.
<Stop,> a familiar voice in her head ordered, and she nearly dropped the node before her brain caught up with her.
<Aaron.>
<I’ve been monitoring the feed your friend hacked. The TSF just launched sniffer drones to track skinsuits like the one you’re wearing.>
Katelyn slumped against the bark of a nearby tree. <Welcome to the party,> she shot acerbically at him, glaring down at the sheathed node in her arms. <Why speak up now and not earlier?>
<I trust you, but Clarke was an unknown. Had I initiated a connection to you, chances were too high that he might have detected it.>
<Paranoid much?>
A part of Katelyn’s brain wondered at the smartass attitude she was channeling. Then she realized she was in pretty much the same headspace right now as the one she occupied when engaged in a dangerous flight maneuver.
Guess snark’s my go-to stress reliever. She straightened. <Got any suggestions on how to get us out of here?>
<We stick to the plan. They provided you with a serviceable identity. Use it.>
A map appeared on her overlay. Aaron dropped an icon on top of a nearby building.
<What’s that?>
<The quarters of the Coastie you’re impersonating. Go, before you’re caught by one of their scans.>
She took off at a run in the direction of the icon, only to stumble to a stop as she neared the building. Beyond, she could see Marines everywhere, fanning out to cover the base’s exits, while passive scan identified clouds of drones rising to patrol the perimeter.
She ducked inside the building, mindlessly following the flashing icon as her mind catalogued what she’d just seen.
<We’re going to get through that?>
<Patience, grasshopper. Remember, you’re the mule, and I’m the super spy. Just haul me around and let me do my thing.>
She snorted, but Aaron’s cocky attitude had her smiling.
<Okay, fine. Not going to ask what an insect has to do with patience. Just hurry up, will ya? You’re no lightweight, you know.>
She slipped into Sands’ quarters and stripped off the skinsuit, revealing the Teka Coast Guard uniform she wore underneath. Rummaging around in the smaller pack Clarke had handed her, she pulled out a matching cap.
She paused, fingering it, before giving herself a small shake.
Hard to believe we’ve been skulking around here for the better part of three hours….
Katelyn set it on her head and turned for the door, but stopped when Aaron made a rude buzzing sound.
<Wrong! Hair’s not regulation. Has to be above the collar of your uniform.>
Katelyn huffed out an annoyed breath, but pulled it back off and looped her ponytail into a tight bun. “Better?”
<It’ll do.>
She rolled her eyes at him as she set the cap back on her head. A mental tap on her shoulder pulled her up short just before she pushed through the door.
<Act confident. Remember, you’re Coast Guard. You belong here,> he reminded her as they exited out into the night.
* * * * *
Williams ran one hand through his high-and-tight, squeegeeing the water out as he exited the admin building’s first aid station. The other hand ripped open the mednano patch gripped between his teeth. He tossed the wrapper in a nearby recycler and then stood there a moment while he tried to assess his injuries.
Deciding his kidneys were what hurt the most, he slipped the patch under his shirt and slapped it onto his lower back before resuming his walk. He paused just outside Commander Lauren’s command center to adjust his uniform, and then pushed his way in, nodding to the CO as her eyes found his.
“Fireteams are reporting back in,” she told him as he came to a stop beside her.
Williams looked down at the holo Lauren had been studying, a quick glance encapsulating the locations of each team. Jansen and one/one were headed back into the spaceport. Becker and one/three had the Veefs on the run and were giving chase.
<Looks like they had two small fireteams set up out h
ere, just to take potshots at the Coast Guard sector,> Jansen said. <Reminded me of the time Perez set off that passel of fireworks right behind the LT’s quarters.>
<Yeah,> Murphy added. <Lit ’em and ran just like Perez, too.>
<Hey,> Perez protested, <It was Koller’s fault. He dared me to do it.>
<And if Koller dared you to shove an MI-917 up your ass and light it, would you do that, too?>
Williams shook his head as Perez’s avatar flashed him a grin.
<Sounds like you need something to keep you busy, Perez. How about you get that shiny hiney of yours over to where Weber’s sweeping the western end of the airfield? I want that checked one more time before you move on.>
<Semper Fi, Gunny. Just ask the ladies. They’ll tell you there ain’t no shine on this fine behind.>
He heard Weber groan. <Coulda done without that mental picture.>
<You just jelly because—>
<Stuff it, Perez.>
<Yes, Gunny.>
Williams could tell from the way they’d acted earlier that neither MICI agent had ever served as a ground pounder, much less a FROD Marine.
Probably wouldn’t know camaraderie if it bit them on the—
He shook his head, wondering why he was wasting mental headspace thinking about the Mickies right now. Perez was beginning to rub off on him. Either that, or the pounding he’d taken at the hands of the mysterious soldier had jarred something loose.
He shifted as he mentally replayed the sound he’d heard when he’d taken a flying leap in the direction his spidey senses had told him a stealthed soldier stood.
Did I imagine it, or was there someone else in that corridor?
Just then, Bruno’s voice came over a private channel, interrupting his musings. <Got a shuttle being preflighted out in front of the hangar. Teka AI says it’s that Coastie, headed out to get our ammo.>
<Tell her the station’s on lockdown.> Williams motioned to Lauren that he’d be back in a few, then turned and marched outside.
<Tried that. Let’s just say some of the AIs around here need to go back through basic. They lack a certain respect for the chain of command.>
Williams cupped the back of his neck and squeezed to relieve some of the tension as he increased his speed, jolting into a painful jog.
<I’m getting too old for this shit.>
<Someone in need of rejuv?>
<Stuff it, Bruno.>
* * * * *
Aaron had made a few adjustments to Katelyn’s flight plan—without consulting her—while she walked from Sands’ room to the airfield. She stopped and stared in dismay as the duffel holding the node slid off her shoulder and hit the plascrete floor of the hangar with a dull thud.
“I requisitioned the Dolphin, not this broken-down old relic. Does that thing even fly?”
The shuttle before her was so old, it had an actual plas windscreen with an ancient FLIR thermal imaging system integrated into it, instead of a true holodisplay.
<Not only does it fly, but it serves our purposes better than any of the newer shuttles,> Aaron said. <It’s not hardened against hacking, like those Coast Guard units. I’ll be able to disable IFF and tracking, and we’ll blend in more easily with the traffic out in Hadrian. Plus, there’s a mech frame in the cargo space that I can use.>
“By all means, let’s make it convenient for you, why don’t we,” she muttered under her breath. “Hope that thing’s got updated navcomms in it. Hell, let’s just hope it starts.”
<Oh ye of little faith,> the AI chided. <This happens to be the personal toy of one Lieutenant Sands, so that makes it even more believable. This is what she’d take for an after-hours flight to grab a few cases of ammo for a few dozen TSF meatheads, don’t you think?>
“Yeah, right. Keep selling it, buddy. No one’s buying.” But she shouldered the duffel once more and clambered up inside.
After a quick once-over, she reluctantly admitted the antique ship made sense; the airframe had been restored to peak condition, and Sands had upgraded the cockpit so that the FLIR system integrated with her Link.
Aaron’s NSAI node was tucked between the legs of the mech frame, the stealth sheath covering it hiding it from view. As she maglocked it into place, she saw the AI extrude a thread of nano into a nearby port.
<Don’t get any ideas. You’re not flying this thing,> she warned him.
<After what I’ve seen, I think I can say with some assurance that I’m a much safer pilot than you are,> the AI retorted.
She began to protest, but his avatar waved her off.
<Don’t worry. You’re the pilot. I think we’re going to need your brand of crazy to get us out of here.>
She shot the node a dirty look, then stood. <I’m going to go out and do a quick preflight. How long before we’re clear to depart?>
<Spaceport AI’s already cleared us.> Aaron sent her a smirk. <Station’s on lockdown at the moment, but she’s pissed at the Marine battalion’s AI, some guy named Bruno. Since you filed the flight plan prior to lockdown, she’s decided your flight’s cleared to leave.>
Katelyn grinned down at the node before turning toward the cockpit. <I knew I liked her.> She took the pilot’s seat, powering the shuttle up and maneuvering it out onto the tarmac. <You’re sure you’ll pass through the sensor sweep at the perimeter without setting of any alarms?>
Aaron made a scoffing noise. <Me, spy. You, merchant hauler. Any questions?>
She sent him a middle-finger salute by way of reply.
<Don’t think that’s anatomically possible, Katelyn.>
<Not in that node, that’s for damn sure.>
Chuckling, she powered down the cockpit once more and stood. The lights bathing the run-up area shone wetly through the pouring rain, and Katelyn touched the brim of her cap, grateful her disguise offered some protection from the deluge outside.
<Fine, then,> she sighed. <Preflight time.>
<Chop-chop. The longer it takes, the greater the risk of discovery.>
She hopped out of the hatch and began her walkaround visual inspection. She’d just inspected the port side ram air turbine when Aaron pinged her.
<Incoming. It’s that Marine from the fuel depot.>
<Shit!>
Katelyn froze for a second, thinking.
<Don’t let anyone see you out of character. You’ve got this. As far as they’re concerned, you are Veronica Sands.>
<You’re right.> Sending him a mental nod, she settled her cap lower on her head, her hand brushing the nape of her neck, where her unruly curls were coiled into a tight bun. <Still. I’d rather be aloft by the time he gets here.>
Aaron sent his mental agreement.
Pulling her aviators out of her side pocket, she shoved them on over her eyes, reasoning that she could use the rain as her excuse for wearing them after sunset. She rounded the tail of the shuttle so that she could keep her back to the approaching gunnery sergeant, then strode purposefully toward the hatch and pulled herself inside.
<Don’t seal the hatch,> Aaron warned. <He sped up once he caught sight of you. You’ll only raise suspicions if you evade him now.>
<Dammit! What’s that guy have against me, anyway? I can’t go anywhere without him showing up.>
<Guess you’re just a Gunny-magnet, cupcake.> Aaron waggled nonexistent eyebrows at her.
<Oh, bite me.>
<You’re not my type. Gunny Williams, on the other hand….>
* * * * *
There was something tantalizingly familiar about the form that he saw hopping up into the shuttle. He queried the spaceport for all personnel in the vicinity, and a Coast Guard token for a Lieutenant Veronica Sands appeared, her locator beacon superimposed over the shuttle before him.
He tapped the token, accessing her personnel file. A tall redhead appeared. The form rotating in 3D on his HUD matched the glimpse he’d had of the woman as she entered the small craft.
Still, something nagged at him. He stepped up t
o the hatch and peered in.
“Lieutenant?”
From where he stood, he could see her seated in the pilot’s cradle. Her head swiveled, and he caught a partial profile: classic aviators sat atop a standard Coast Guard cap, which rested atop a cap of smooth auburn hair, pinned neatly at the nape of her neck.
“Yes, Marine?”
“You headed somewhere?”
She turned with an exasperated sigh, the harsh glare of artificial light streaming through the plas windscreen—a real windscreen, and not a simulated one—casting her face in silhouette and obscuring her features from closer scrutiny.
“Only if you want your platoons to be able to spin up their crew-served guns.” She paused, cocking her head as she added pointedly, “You do want to retake Tarja and run those Veefs out of here, don’t you? Or do you like our Coast Guard hospitality so much, you don’t mind camping out with us for a while?”
Williams couldn’t restrain the snort that slipped out. The woman had sass.
Shaking his head in amusement, he stepped back from the hatch. “No, ma’am. We Marines have asses to kick and names to take.”
“Bet that’s what they all say,” he heard her mutter under her breath.
He took a moment to scan the interior of the old shuttle, surprised it was so well-maintained for its age. There wasn’t much to see. The hold was empty, save for a lone mech frame. Its torso was open, its interior empty.
Not that the NSAI node would have fit inside anyway.
He slapped the side of the shuttle once and gave her a brief nod as he moved away.
<Bruno, you got anything on our Coastie in there? Anything that says she’s not who she is?>
The AI sent a negative. <Her ident checks out. And you know the requisition’s legit. I signed it myself.>
<What’s with the shuttle?>
<It’s her own personal toy, according to the Coastie AI. Says she sank a lot of credits into refurbishing it.>
Williams sighed, rubbing the back of his head with one hand as he strolled to the edge of the tarmac and watched her seal the hatch. Something about the way she stood had him replaying the memory of another hatch, another woman standing in much the same spot….