Hard Nova Page 10

  “I heard you. We were fine until you people came,” the guard said, louder.

  “You people. You people,” the soldier said. He threw up his hands. “We are your people, you stupid son of a bitch! The Qin—“

  The guard cut him off. “You’ve got no idea.”

  The soldier shook with anger. “And you’ve got no idea.”

  Cross exhaled. How the hell did the Qin convince a planet of five hundred million to switch sides? It seemed so implausible, and then he reminded himself that they’d been under the Qin for over twenty years. They must have come to an agreement. It was the only thing he could think of. Was the ground fight so stubborn that the Qin let them be?

  The thought chilled him. Qin technology and naval forces with a shock army of human troops.

  Cross shuffled ahead. Three more in front of him. Each soldier stepped ahead and gave a name. A guard scanned their wrists and then handed them each a metal tag.

  The scan caught his interest. A dim light flicked beneath the scanner.

  DNA? Were they marking with radiation? An implant? Cross didn’t know, but he had an idea.

  Two more.

  “Hey,” Cross said. He tapped the soldier in front of him.

  The man turned. His jaw was set, his eyes tight, and his mouth looked thoroughly angry. “What?”

  “Give a fake name.”

  The man furrowed his brow and then a slight smile cracked on his face.

  One more.

  Cross listened. He had a hunch.

  “Name?” the Coalition clerk said.

  “John Wayne.”

  The man held out his hand, and the other guard scanned it.

  “Discrepancy,” the guard said. He tilted it and turned the display so the clerk could see.

  The clerk looked up from his terminal. His face was a mix of boredom and irritation. “Private Third Level Garcia Martinez, one week of punishment.”

  The other guard grabbed Private Martinez, tucked the metal tag into his jacket, and pushed him toward a waiting truck.

  Cross stepped up.

  “Name?” The clerk sounded even more irritated with his job.

  “Sergeant Sergei Cross.” He held out his wrist.

  The guard scanned him. Cross didn’t feel a thing. A second later, they handed him a metal tag.

  He turned it over in his hand as he walked away. On one side was his name, no rank. The other side was blank.

  Holly followed a second after, and the two walked toward the nearest open truck.

  “They don’t know who they are.”

  Holly squinted and wiped some rain from his brow. “How so?”

  “They didn’t scan them.”

  “Huh, well, they’ll remedy that, I’m sure.”

  “Are you up for a jailbreak, Sergeant Major?”

  Sergeant Major Holly grinned and patted the bulge on his bandages.

  “Whatcha thinking, Ranger?”

  Cross climbed into the truck and sat down on the wet bench at the back. “Simple. We hijack the truck.”

  Holly climbed up and laughed. The smile fell from his face when he saw that Cross was serious.

  ####

  Jack felt the hard floor beneath him. He was thoroughly wet from head to toe. The movement from side to side, followed by a bump, told him he was in a truck. Or at least, he guessed. It was completely and totally dark.

  Someone coughed toward the front. Another man mumbled. A woman sobbed and started praying.

  “Well, the combat units could have shot them because—“

  “No, I’m telling you, they came in, picked them out, lined them up, and shot them,” a voice stated.

  “Then why didn’t they just shoot us?” another voice said angrily.

  “What’s the lowest rank here? Those supply captains?”

  More voices agreed and piped up with rank. All were major and above.

  “Information. Has to be.”

  “Bullshit, they’re cutting the head off the snake. You watch, they’ll shoot us yet.”

  Jack listened and felt suddenly afraid. So far, he’d known escape was just on the edge of the horizon. He was an eternal optimist, or tried to be.

  McCloud spoke. “I need a diversion when we arrive.”

  A sarcastic voice spoke. “So you can escape?”

  “It’s our duty,” McCloud replied.

  Jack sat up. He tried to focus his eyes, but all he saw was darkness. A sudden corner pushed him into legs and he struggled to stand. Hands pulled him up and the line slid down to make room.

  McCloud leaned close and whispered, “You’re a supply captain, got it? Attached to the Fifth Rangers, both of us are. We dropped to get logistics ready to assume control of the orbital defenses.”

  Jack nodded and then spoke. “Yes, but what then?”

  “We just sit tight until we can get out. Got it?”

  “Yes, yes, I got it.”

  The truck started to slow. The brakes squeaked and the wheels shuddered.

  A voice spoke in the darkness. “They’re gonna shoot us, I’m telling ya. They’re gonna shoot us.”

  Jack swallowed hard and stared into the darkness.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The truck rumbled down the rippled road. Cracks spread in all directions like angry stone spiderwebs. The orbitals had cracked anything solid, even the heavy concrete roadways. The trees on both sides were pushed off into heaps, and the litter from the shockwaves drove inward for kilometers.

  Cross watched for a turn or a side road but had seen nothing. There was a distinct lack of traffic heading the other way. He even saw that the opposite lane of the road still had debris on it. “They’re moving underground.”

  “Hmm?” Holly said. He snapped himself from a nap and nodded. “Makes sense. Had to know we’d come back some time.”

  The truck slowed, and everyone in the back slid forward. A few soldiers fell to the floor and scrambled back up. There was a sharp turn in the road just ahead.

  Cross focused on the turn. Which way? Then he saw him.

  The soldier who’d given McCloud and Jack up to the Coalition forces. The man pushed himself back onto the seat and jammed his elbows back to make more room. He lowered his head and focused on the floor.

  The truck had reduced speed but was still moving over sixty kilometers an hour. It swayed slowly.

  “I’ve got a plan.” Cross stood and moved down the center aisle. He stopped in front of the man. “Get up.”

  The man looked up at him and shook his head.

  “Get up.” Cross’s voice was louder, more assertive. Heads turned from either side of the truck and watched both of them.

  “No.”

  Cross had enough. He tore the man off the bench and slammed him onto the floor. In a moment, he hauled him up and dragged him down the center aisle. Soldiers stood and made way.

  “Hey! Let me go! What are you doing! Oh woah!”

  At the very end of the truck, Cross heaved him off the back. The man landed on his shoulder and tumbled like a wet rag doll off the shoulder of the road. His body came to rest against a broken spruce tree.

  The truck slammed to a stop. The tires skidded, and the rear end slid to the side.

  Cross flew back and slid onto the steel deck. Soldiers reached out and helped him up.

  “Is this your plan?” Holly said. He tore off the bandage and pulled out the pistol.

  “Yup.” Cross ran down the aisle and pulled out a section of rigging line. He coiled the thin rope around his hands. It was the sort of cable strong enough to support a few men in an emergency. Though he had an entirely different plan for it.

  Most of the soldiers in the rear of the truck stayed where they were. Others eagerly jumped onto the seats. Some just stood and stared out.

  The first guard got out with a pistol in his hand. He backed away from the prisoners and stared down the road where the body lay on the side. The second guard climbed out the opposite door and raised up his rifle toward the back
.

  Cross pointed to the side with the man with the rifle.

  Holly climbed up onto the bench and kissed the barrel of his pistol. Then he gently laid it between two men and aimed at the soldier with the rifle.

  The first man took a few more steps. He pointed his pistol vaguely toward the truck while peering down the road.

  Cross waited until he passed and leaped down. He cracked onto the ground and tried to roll but slipped instead. One foot shot out, and he was flat on the ground.

  The guard spun and fired. The round went wide. The man fired a second time; this one shattered into the concrete, and bits of stone peppered Cross’s face. Cross was on his feet and then dove, slicing a leg and dropping the man onto the ground.

  At the same instant, Holly fired a single shot. The round connected squarely into the man’s throat.

  The Coalition soldier pulled back, and his weapon fired a fully automatic burst right into the back of the truck. The prisoners screamed and yelled until the firing stopped. A dozen men and women lay dead or mortally wounded.

  Cross was on the other guard in a second. He easily stripped the weapon and looped the cord around the man’s neck. Fingers raked at his face, and the man flailed beneath him. Right at the moment when the thrashing was the worst, he let some slack.

  “Don’t move, or I’ll kill you. Got it?”

  The man nodded weakly.

  “You’re going to drive me to where they take the officers. If you take me to the wrong place, I’ll strangle you. If you try to trick me, I’ll strangle you.”

  Cross stood up and coiled the rope into his pocket. He scooped up the Coalition pistol and tucked it into his jacket. He turned and saw Holly hauling the Coalition rifleman’s body into the brush. A few more soldiers were running down the road, where they then hid the man that Cross had thrown out the back.

  Soldiers worked to pull the wounded and dead out of the back of the truck. Some immediately ran into the woods and disappeared. The rest formed up just inside the tree line.

  “Helluva plan,” Holly said. “We’ve got wounded.”

  “Is there a first aid kit inside?” Cross said.

  “Behind the seat,” the Coalition soldier said.

  Holly climbed into the cab, grabbed the med kit, and then tossed it outside. “Sweeney, patch ’em up! Then get the hell out of here.”

  “You got it, Sergeant Major!” a man in a dirty medic’s uniform called back.

  Cross poked his weapon at the Coalition driver and beckoned him toward the cab. He slid into the center of the truck and sat on the service bench.

  The Coalition soldier climbed in just behind and sat in the driver’s seat.

  Gently and carefully, Cross uncoiled the rope and made sure the soldier saw it.

  “Now, drive.”

  ####

  “I told you,” Davos said. He sneered as he paced in front of Claire. “You tried to—“

  “Shut up, Davos.” Claire opened her eyes. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and felt another headache coming on.

  The virtual battlescape before her was a shattered mess. Pinpricks of blue dotted the area, but now pinpricks of green, orange, red, and yellow all moved in. None represented her core units; all were from other commanders. She’d gambled all of her forces and had failed. Instead of regaining control and keeping the Terran Union barges at bay, she’d lost most of her contingent.

  “What are you going to say?” Davos said.

  Claire thought on it and said nothing. She sensed the silence of her officers. Her best and brightest had done damned well. All throughout the room, the teams still worked to reform her troops, however meager they were. What does it matter? she thought. Soon they’ll get taken by command and folded into other units.

  “I’m going to say we made a gamble for one hell of a victory.”

  “A gamble? You call this a gamble?” Davos snapped back at her. “We lost our entire zone, for what?”

  Claire looked up at Davos. He was always the realist; she was the gambler. They normally made a pretty good pair. Someday we’ll have kids, she thought. She tried to like him, she really did, but the choice wasn’t up to her. “We didn’t lose the zone. The TU has been repelled from this area, or they’re surrendering. It was worth trying to secure those troops.”

  “We shouldn’t have committed everything,” Davos said. “The Coalition would have survived without those defense platforms. You had something to prove.”

  Claire snapped back at him. “We have everything to prove!”

  “You’re just like him.”

  Claire looked away. “Those officers are likely dead.”

  “But not confirmed.”

  “Likely. We haven’t processed either one.”

  “We’re not processing anyone. Fourth Defense Zone has taken over that duty. What if they were liquidated before the order came?”

  Claire sighed. Liquidating the officer corps was part of the plan. It was partly her plan, partly that of some of the other human commanders. The Qin were mostly silent on the matter. The Old Man though, he always preached to think in the long term. “Either way. They’re a nonasset.”

  “Well, at least you didn’t fail like your brother.”

  Claire glared at Davos. “He didn’t fail. He chose a different path.”

  Davos turned back to his tablet and said nothing.

  Or so I hope, Claire thought.

  ####

  On the truck ride, they’d discussed what to do. A technical general from Mars had rank and laid it out. The number-one goal was to delay handing out information as long as possible. They’d all agreed that holding out was temporary; they just had to outlast the usefulness of the information.

  The truck stopped.

  McCloud listened and heard nothing. He’d spent the entire ride thinking on what to do next, but no brilliant plans came. His father was much better at pulling those out of thin air. Gavin always preferred the direct route. Which was why he’d turned down a spot in the naval academy and instead joined the army.

  The infantry was the first start; he preferred his own feet over a set of tracks. His initial goal was to be in the power-suited units, but he rapidly discovered that they weren’t anywhere near combat ready. So instead, he trained to be a ranger.

  A loud clunk outside was followed by voices. Something thudded against the door.

  “Just hold out,” the tech general said quietly.

  McCloud laid a hand onto Jack’s arm. “You OK, Jack?”

  “Yes, I mean, no. But, well, this is what we do, right?”

  McCloud didn’t reply. The little locksmith had come a long way since being pulled up a rock slope. How much more could he take, though? Everyone breaks eventually. Even me, he thought.

  The door opened, but no light came inside.

  “Stay seated! Hands in front! Now, now, now!” a voice yelled.

  McCloud tried to see what was happening. It was completely dark outside. He tried to guess at the time; it should still be daylight outside. They had to be indoors.

  Soldiers trampled down the center of the truck.

  Someone zipped McCloud’s hands together and pushed them onto his lap. Then, to his surprise, they placed a bag over his head. Every breath reminded him that he was a prisoner of war.

  “Stand!”

  McCloud stood and bumped against someone. It was disorienting to try and stay balanced in total darkness. He held his shackled hands in front and felt for anything.

  “Walk forward!”

  The column shuffled out of the truck and down a steel ramp.

  “Stop.”

  The room was mostly silent except for the sounds of shuffling feet.

  A rough hand grabbed onto his arm and dragged him away. He stumbled along and tried to walk but found the strength of whoever was carrying him to be well beyond his own. They passed through several doorways. The area smelled different: food. Finally they sat him down.

  “Unit?” a heavily accented voice sa
id.

  “Take the bag off,” McCloud said.

  Another voice spoke. “Scan his tag.”

  A device beeped and sounded a dull tone. “Blank. How can it be blank?”

  “Scan error, or he’s not in the database.”

  The man with the accent grunted.

  McCloud, his eyes wide open, strained to see anything through the bag. They didn’t know who he was. His heart beat a bit faster, and he cracked a smile.

  “Scan him again. We need the full accounting.” There was a pause and the sound of shuffling feet. “Set him down next to this one. Let me guess, no scan?”

  “Yah, sir,” a third voice said.

  “Why? It’s not like it’ll matter if we scan him.”

  “Do you wear the tab with the rank on it?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Then scan them.”

  McCloud assumed it was Jack next to him. Hoped it was Jack next to him.

  “I told you, I just do supply entries for structured database systems,” Jack said. “I didn’t want to be on the first drop. I was all, like, why send me down? You don’t need that database setup but you know they were terribly insistent, but me only being a lieutenant—“

  “Shut up.”

  Jack kept talking, the words coming faster. “But those databases, you know, a modern army runs on its logistics! So we get it set up right away in a multitiered synergistic system of flow and—“

  “Gag him.”

  “No, no!” Jack cried out.

  “You talk again, and we gag you. And you won’t like how we gag you.”

  One of the men moved, and McCloud felt something against his wrist. A second later, a machine beeped. There was more movement and then the same beep.

  “Huh.”

  “Database error?”

  “Yah.”

  “Right!” The leader of the two men said. “I need a name and rank.”

  “Lieutenant Gavin Smith.”

  Jack hesitated and stammered for a moment. “Can I talk?”

  “Yes,” the leader grumbled. “Hurry up.”

  “Lieutenant Jack Anderson.”