Space Rescue One Page 4

  "What else do I do when I reach D12?" she asked.

  "When you reach it, I'll know that you're ready. If I hear only two bursts of static, then when Richard and I are both ready, we'll enter the room after the lights go out. I'll transmit twice without speaking as we enter. Toss in your grenade then. We'll be tossing in one as well. Be ready to shoot the instant you have a clear shot at the gunman. If I hear you transmit three bursts of static, then I'll wait until I hear you report orally that the gunman is down. Richard and I will enter as soon as you confirm the gunman is out of action," Isaac answered.

  "I'm not sure I can do that," she said.

  "Shelly, I'm depending on you. You're the only team member who can fit in the ductwork. You might be the only hope that those hostages inside have. If Richard and I have to assault the cabin, I don't believe that we can keep him from hitting or even killing some of the hostages before we take him out. Now can you do it?" asked Chief Dickson.

  "Well . . . I'll try," Shelly replied.

  Dickson said, "Good! Move out then. Richard, keep watch. Fire if you have a shot. I'll get my armor on first and then relieve you to armor up."

  "Right, Chief," Richard said as he watched Shelly disappear into cabin D8. Then he said, "You're putting an awful load on her. She's never killed before. Neither have I, but I don't have her morals."

  "I won't argue with you on this one. My reasons speak for themselves. However, it wouldn't surprise me in the next minute to learn that she's not as small as I think. Shelly might not be able to fit inside those ducts any better than you or I. Still, I've got to try. At least, she follows orders," Isaac said.

  Richard waited until the Chief was armored up. The Chief kept his helmet off so that he could use his night vision scope. Richard changed from his flex suit to armor while the Chief kept his laser gun trained on the cabin holding the gunman and hostages.

  ***

  Shelly removed the grill from the ductwork, then pulled herself up to it. Almost at once, she realized that her flex suit was in the way. It added too much bulk to her body. Quickly and efficiently, she shimmied out of it until she stood in only her underwear. Without the utility pockets the suit provided, she improvised as she first put her gear in the duct and then entered. Once partly inside, she switched on her night vision scope before pulling her legs and feet in. Further improvisation became necessary. Without anyone to see her, she slipped her bra up and placed her gun and grenade in the cups. With her hands free, she crawled along the dark passage. It wasn't very far to crawl. For that reason, she went slowly to avoid making any excessive noise that might alert the gunman.

  ***

  "Captain, go ahead and seal off this corridor and all the staterooms in it," Dickson said.

  "Aren't you afraid that the gunman might try to run to a different part of the ship?" asked Captain Fogel.

  "Not at all, Captain. I'm more concerned about the concussion from the grenades. I don't like using them, but I don't see any other options if we're to save those hostages. The first hour deadline is almost over. He's already killed, so why shouldn't he kill a hostage? I intend to do something before he can."

  "I understand. Let me know when you're ready to have the lights go out," Fogel stated.

  "You can turn out the hall lights now, Captain."

  "Cut the corridor lights only," Captain Fogel said into his radio.

  A split second later, the hallway was in darkness.

  "I'm ready. I've got my weapon trained on the cabin now," Richard said.

  Isaac said, "Good. You handle that. I'll take care of the concussion grenade. If we have to go in, I'll toss the grenade first, draw my weapon, then enter just after it goes off. You follow on my heels. Okay?"

  "Got it," Richard replied.

  Dickson instructed, "Okay. Once we're inside, you cover the left. I'll take the right side of the cabin."

  "I have the left. Anything else?" asked Richard.

  Dickson answered, "No, unless you want to pray for everyone before hell breaks loose. Shhh!"

  Isaac listened to his radio as the first burst of static came through. Then a second burst of equal length followed. It was followed by a third burst of static.

  Isaac said, "That's my gal! She sent three bur . . ." He stopped speaking when a fourth static burst came through just as clearly as the first three and for the same length of time. "Something's wrong. She sent four bursts."

  "Four?" Richard asked.

  "Yes, four. Something is definitely wrong," Isaac replied.

  "Maybe another gunman?" Richard asked.

  "I hope not. That complicates everything. Shhh!" Isaac answered.

  Another burst of static came through. It was followed by a second burst. Then there was silence over the radio channel.

  "What now?" Richard asked.

  Isaac answered, "She just sent two more bursts. I think she's trying to tell us to make our assault and watch out for something."

  "Maybe there's a booby-trap," Richard suggested.

  "Captain Fogel, do you know if the gunman had anything other than a gun?" the Chief asked.

  "Really, I'm surprised that he had that. Everyone went through a security check before departure. I hope that security didn't become so lax that he brought more than a gun with him," Captain Fogel replied.

  "Okay. Richard, we're going to assume that there's a second gunman in there. Same plan as before, but after you secure your half of the cabin, do a visual on my half. I'll do the same for yours. We'll act on instinct from there on. Don't fail me, Richard."

  Chief Dickson pulled the pin on his grenade. He nodded to the Captain. The Captain called his engineer to turn off the cabin lights. Dickson toggled his transmitter twice, slowly and deliberately the same length.

  The gunman hollered, "Hey! You fuckheads! What the hell do you think you're pulling? Turn those lights back on or I'll kill a hostage in one minute."

  The Chief tossed his grenade into the darkened cabin as he drew his gun. A moment later, it went off. It was quickly followed by a second concussion that he presumed to be Shelly's. He stepped into the room amid the swirling smoke.

  Behind him, Richard leaped forward slamming against the cabin door to force it back against the bulkhead.

  The hostages and gunmen were lying stunned on the deck where their bodies were tossed by the grenades. Isaac saw a thin laser beam penetrate through the smoke. It came from the ductwork overhead. There was a cry of pain followed by a thudding sound of something heavy falling. Then he felt himself shoved out of the way. As he fell to the floor, he caught a momentary glimpse of another laser beam in the smoke. It hit on his side of the cabin.

  "I give up!"

  "I do, too! Don't shoot me anymore! I surrender!"

  "Captain Fogel! Restore the lights! Richard! Shelly! You okay?" Isaac called out.

  "I'm okay. Hold your fire. I'm moving in to secure their weapons. Keep them covered in case they try anything, Chief," Richard answered.

  "I was just about to say that. Go ahead. Secure their weapons. Then we'll tend to them and any other wounded," the Chief said.

  Shelly called out from the duct, "Can I come out now?"

  "Not yet," replied Isaac.

  "What? Did you answer me? My ears are ringing."

  The lights came on. Isaac looked for the gunmen and saw that Richard had just picked up their weapons. Richard resumed covering the gunmen with his laser gun. The two gunmen held their wounds with their good hands. Isaac turned toward the ductwork and waved at Shelly to enter the cabin. A few moments later, she slipped out of the ductwork, her displaced bra obviously forgotten about.

  Shelly saw Isaac's eyes get wide despite the swirling smoke that still permeated the cabin air. Then she realized he was staring at her. Only then did she remember how she appeared. Blushing slightly, she used her free hand to tug her bra back down into place. Isaac turned away from her to stare at the gunmen when he observed that she was no longer unaware of her undressed condition.

 
Moments later, the rest of Rescue Team One entered the cabin. Each technician went to one of the hostages and quickly escorted them out. After less than a minute, only the gunmen and team members remained in the room. More technicians from Rescue Team Two entered to take care of the wounded gunmen while the Chief, Shelly, and Richard kept them covered with their guns.

  ***

  On board the Space Rescue One, Chief Dickson waved Richard to his side. Richard came over.

  "Yes, Chief?" asked Richard.

  "I've got a question for you. Were you the person who shoved me in that cabin?"

  "Yeah, I shoved you," Richard responded.

  "Why?" asked the Chief.

  Richard answered, "Well, it seemed like a good time to do it."

  "You're not making sense, Saber. Why'd you shove me?"

  Shelly answered, "He did it to keep you from getting your head blown off. I could see one of the gunmen lining up on you, but I didn't have a clear shot at him. He got his shot off, but missed since you wasn't standing there any longer. Didn't you see the bullet scoring on the bulkhead behind you afterwards?"

  "Uh, well, thanks then, Richard," Isaac said.

  "Don't thank me. You don't owe me a thing," Richard said.

  "I owe you my life."

  "I don't want your thanks. I just want you off my case," Richard stated flatly.

  "I'm sorry you feel that way. Regardless, I still owe you for what you did. Will you let me buy you a drink?"

  Richard looked at the Chief with suspicion in his eyes. Then Richard shook his head slowly after thinking quickly. "No way, Chief. I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to get me to drink so you can get me dismissed from the team. Forget it. Keep your thanks to yourself."

  "Okay, be that way. You don't have to accept my thanks. I'll just leave you alone for now since that's what you want."

  "Good," replied Richard.

  As the Chief walked away, Shelly said, "Richard, you're becoming just as bad when you're sober as you are when you're drunk. What's wrong with you? Can't you be sociable enough to accept the man's thanks? He really meant it as that."

  "I know what he meant," said Richard.

  "Well, I don't know what you mean anymore. Maybe you ought to return to the bottle. I was just getting to like you a lot."

  Richard stammered, "But, he, I . . ."

  "Forget it, Richard. I don't want to hear your excuses. You probably had excuses for when you drank, too."

  He said, as she walked away, "Well, as a matter of fact, I did have my . . ." He mumbled the remainder to himself, "reasons. I guess you don't want to hear them though."

  ***

  Captain Shortner listened to the briefing concerning the gunmen presently in his brig.

  "So, when the gunman was caught burgling the cabin, he panicked and shot his way out. He took hostages on the way back to his cabin. His partner was in their cabin putting away what he'd burgled just moments earlier when the gunman forced his hostages inside. They figured that they could outlast the crew by taking turns watching the hostages and doorway. Apparently they left that open so food could be delivered to them. Possibly for negotiations, too, though they had a cabin phone. Had he headed for the bridge instead, he might have succeeded in forcing the Captain to negotiate. No Captain wants to have his ship sent off into deep uncharted space by a desperate gunman," Chief Dickson said.

  "Don't they keep their bridge shut off to prevent terrorist acts and hijack attempts?" Shortner asked.

  "No, they were busy letting passengers tour the bridge for a few minutes each that day. That was the kind of opportunity the burglars wanted since many of the passengers were lined up waiting their turn. That's probably why they didn't head that way in the first place," Dickson answered.

  ***

  "Well, I guess they can claim to be freedom fighters, but it won't keep them from being convicted for burglary and murder," Richard said.

  "I didn't say it would. I'm just pointing out that there are people extreme enough to use the political situation to their advantage or who are absolutely serious about what they're saying and doing. I'll agree with you that it's one of the oldest ploys in the book for a common criminal to plead that he's a freedom fighter and shouldn't be judged as harshly for his actions. You have to admit, they did demand a lot of money and passage to a colony," Clarke said.

  "Sure, but that doesn't make them freedom fighters. All I saw were criminals. Just petty thieves and murderers."

  "It's a fine line between the two. However, think it through. Just what would they do with that much money at a colony? They could live well there on much less quite easily. I think they really intended to turn the money over to buy weapons. In fact, the Taurean Princess passengers were burgled on their last trip, too. The crew caught them and the burglars claimed to be doing it for political reasons, too. That one was kept quiet so that tourism wouldn't be jeopardized. This one can't because there were deaths. This one is going to hit the Internet news big time."

  "So, you think this is more than just a ploy?"

  "I do. I think the colonies are actually getting ready, politically, economically, and militarily to declare their independence and keep it. Everyone of the men caught was from one of the colonies," Clarke answered.

  "I still don't see them getting away with it."

  "Why not? Think it through some more. Over ninety percent of Mars and Venus is uninhabited. That's a big area to search for just a couple of people. The colonists can claim that the bad guys gave them the slip and took the money with them into the wilderness, even if they're the ones receiving the money. Who's going to dispute their word? You? Me? We might have our suspicions, but without proof that's all we have. You can't make a case out of suspicions and no evidence."

  "Then how long do you see before the colonies make their move?" asked Richard.

  "How long? Right now it's a keg of gunpowder ready to blow. All it's going to take is one serious incident to set it off. They could be rebelling as soon as today if things go badly wrong somewhere."

  "What kinds of things?"

  Clarke replied, "A large-scale food riot in North America could be all that's needed before the colonists make their move. All they want is for the major power on Earth to be too busy elsewhere so they can put their plans into action. If you paid more attention to the Internet news, you'd know about all the rabble rousing going on right now. Most people are pretty sure that the riots they're having now are being started by colonists, but no one can prove it yet."

  "You mean the free immigration riots?"

  "Yes, along with the food riots in a few places. They're using whatever issue is hottest in the locality they're working in."

  "They? You mean the rabble rousers you claim to exist are doing this?" asked Richard.

  Clarke answered, "That's precisely what I mean. And I don't just claim they exist. Believe me, they're out there now."

  Chapter 4

  "You still on the wagon, Richard?" asked Damon, the bartender.

  "Yes. Just fruit juice still," Richard answered.

  "You're certainly trying hard, even though you don't look so good."

  "Well, I'm not sleeping as well as before."

  Damon said, "Drinking helped you sleep? That's a new one on me."

  "Kind of. Mostly, I was able to sleep because I was passed out already. I didn't have to face them."

  "Face who?"

  Richard looked shocked at his admission. He quickly said, "Forget I said that. Please. As a favor to one of your best customers?"

  "Uh, well, I guess I didn't hear anything. But you look scared. What are you scared of? I've never known you to be afraid of anything."

  "I wish that was the case. I guess my drinking did more for me than help me sleep."

  "Well, if you want to talk about it, then go ahead. After all, I'm just a bartender. One of my jobs is listening to customers who don't have anyone else to talk to. Afterwards, I just go about my duties and forget what I heard. I don'
t judge and I don't criticize. It's kind of a bartender tradition. I mean, we were around even before there were psychiatrists to charge you big bucks for an hour on a couch. On top of that, they don't serve you anything. Afterwards, they tell you that you're really screwed up when they don't understand themselves, much less anyone else. About the only thing bad being a bartender is that sometimes we have to throw our patients out until the next evening when they get too rowdy."