*Journada del Muerte*

(Journey of Death) by Dwane M. Bowen

__<dmbowen@carlisle.microserve.com>__

"Hateful is the power, and pitiable is the life, of those who wish to be feared rather than loved."

Cornelius Nepos

***

Felicity-OH turned to face the silicate standing next to her and playfully raised her eyebrows. Saying nothing, her modem's chirps, bleeps and tones spoke volumes. As the other silicate nodded and left, a sweet smile played across her face and her dimpled cheeks flushed with excitement.

***

"Nathaaan!!"

Please, God. Not again!

Another scream ripped from the soul of Shane Vansen.

"Nooooo!"

Muzzle flashes strobed in the dark, and she saw two bodies falling. In her mind's eye she saw the body of her father slowly crumple forward from the waist. Outside, in the moon light, she saw Nathan's body rocked backwards.

Hammered, blow by blow, he fell from view.

Oh, God. Not again....

***

"Hi-didilly-Ho there, neighbor."

Damphousse's head snap-cracked through ninety degrees, and blood spilled from her mouth. Reeling from the blow, she fell to her knees. Gasping and unable to breathe, Vanessa had nothing left to give when her stomach began to heave.

"Its a wonderful day in the neighborhood... Won't you be my neighbor..." Felicity-OH wistfully sang as she drew back, preparing to drop kick Vanessa into low earth orbit.

'Phousse knew the kick was coming, but the best she could do was to hunch over and try to take it where it wouldn't kill her.

"This must be the good-cop bad-cop routine", 'Phousse thought. "But just this once,... I wish the bitch would sing on key...".

Night, swift and sure, drew across the landscape. Vanessa never felt the last blow land.

***

"Well, Wang Paul, it is time for me to say 'Good night, sweet prince'.Parting is, indeed, such sweet sorrow. "

"I had hoped so much to further... explore our relationship. But I'm afraid that I have some bad news..."

Elroy-L stepped out from behind the medical equipment ringing Paul's bed, idly throwing a switch here, pressing a button there.

"It seems... that we have come to a fork in the road."

Several lights began flashing, and something back behind Paul's head began a strident beeping.

"And, dear Paul..." Elroy-L said, as he turned one machine off after another. "You will be taking the path least traveled".

Elroy-L silenced the beeping machine that had been attesting to the danger Paul was in.

No one took a breath; Elroy-L didn't need to, and Paul couldn't. There was total silence in the room, and it looked like it was going stay that way for a long, long time.

***

"Mercy among the virtues is like the moon among the stars... It is the light that hovers above the judgment seat." Edwin Hubble Chapin

"Aw, man. This is to hinky to believe. What's with you and Damphousse anyway?" Coop hissed loudly. "You think you know where Vansen is? And 'Phousse is with her? Why am I 'getting a bad feeling' about this."

"Shut up Hawkes, you're going to get us shot".

Saunders glanced back and forth between Coop and Nathan. Just as he was about to speak West said "You don't want to know, just now."

Saunders couldn't help feeling what it would be like when these guys really had an argument to settle.

West, Hawkes, and Saunders had moved back over a small ridge, concealing them from the recently captured compound.

West said "This should be OK." and began pulling a small satcom unit out of his backpack. "Coop, give me your comp pad."" Pulling the fiber-optic link from the satcom transceiver, he plugged it into the computer.

Nathan logged on and began accessing the local ephemeral database for the body they were on. "OK... I had the dream, or whatever it was, about 0330 ship time."

"Yeah, right. Any later and we could have waited for breakfast!"

"Shut up, Coop" Will and Nathan said together. West smiled for the first time in a long while. "Will, you're shaping up to be a Wildcard."

"0330 works out to be about local mid-night for our 'longitude'. Vansen was in a cell, with a couple of small windows and a skylight, and the moon was shining almost straight overhead. She couldn't have seen it at all, if it wasn't..." West began to type away on the keyboard flap.

Saunder's finished the thought; "So, if the moon was overhead Vansen at 0330, the computer will tell us where she is; or rather, what part of the planet the moon was directly overhead at 0330. We know where she is East-West wise, but not North-South wise"

Nathan spoke up. "Yeah, but our friends over at the 76th might have an idea. The strike-recon guys have the hot skinny on where the Chig installations on this mudball are."

West finished typing, and fiddled with the folding antenna of the satcom transceiver. Two beeps signaled a good hookup.

"I'm tapping into the combat-intel database... and downloading the analysis/interpretation synopsis for that line of longitude, plus or minus15 degrees." Two icons flashed in unison on the screen for three or four seconds, then one ghosted over, silent.

Nathan began to speak. " All done, now I've..."

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit! Here comes Fairbanks". Hawkes brought his M-590 to bear, and sighted in right on Fairbanks' heart. But he couldn't do it. Outright murder wasn't in his book of tricks, but God, was he tempted.

"Go! Get the hell out of here! I'll keep her busy until you get away." It wasn't much of a plan, but what did you expect from a seven year old anyway.

 

"No way, not this time! We stay together. 'Stay with the dead', remember? 'Stay with the dead!'" Nathan was furiously scrambling for an idea, but he knew he didn't want to resort to Coop's initial reaction.

Well, pretty sure, anyway.

Suddenly, Saunders stood up, and started fumbling with his combat harness. Struggling with his BDUs, he dropped his trousers and bunny hopped out from behind of the small hill. Just as Fairbanks spotted him, he drew up his pants and started adjusting his gear, ignoring Fairbanks as if he hadn't seen her.

"Saunders, what in the hell are you doing out here with your fanny flying around like a bullseye. Do you want to gain immortality as the Chigs' 'Maggie's Drawers'?. Zip it up, and spill your guts, Lieutenant."

"Well sir, Uh... Ma'am" Saunders stammered. "That's exactly what I was doing. The LT's sent me out to scout this terrain feature, Ma'am. I was taking advantage of the moment... Ma'am."

Listening while they maneuvered, Hawkes whispered "Hey, how about that. This boy can lie through his teeth at the drop of a hat. Well, trousers, anyway."

"Thinks pretty quick on his feet, too." West whispered back, as he and Hawkes flanked Saunders and Fairbanks by crawling up and over the small ridge.

"Where are those jarheads anyway, Lieutenant."

"Ma'am, I don't know..." Saunders answered as he watched Hawkes creep up behind Fairbanks. He had his rifle clutched like a Louisville Slugger.

"Right here, bitch."

Cooper's swing would have hit one well into the center field upper-tier. Fairbanks helmet caught enough of the impact to save her life, but she was going to have the mother of all headaches. She went down without a sound.

"Well, what now?"

"I don't know, West. I'm improvising, adapting and overcoming. The Marine's Manual of Common Tasks didn't list Mutiny in it's ToC." Coop responded.

Saunders spoke up. "Its right there after Assaulting an officer, and before Prison, sentencing to thereof". He grinned, to show that he was only ninety-five percent serious.

West thought for a moment, as Hawkes and Saunders policed the area, and dragged Fairbanks back behind the ridge.

"Listen up. Here's what we do. Tie her up. I mean tie her up good. Check her breathing, too. We can't give her anything to keep her quiet without risking her dying. I'm going to put a delayed message on the OPS net, and tell them to search for her in four hours. By then, whatever happens, it won't matter what they know. We'll be long gone."

"Will, this is the line in the sand for you. If you go with us, you won't be coming back as a hero, no matter what happens to us. I don't want you to throw your life away. Its not your fight."

Will looked at Coop and Nathan. He knew it was way past the time for long stories and complicated answers. "I've been to the Alamo. And I'm a Marine. Semper Fi. 'Always faithful'. You know my answer."

"OK." Everything had been said. All questions asked, and all answers given. It was time to do.

Nathan opened up the com unit and tapped into the local node. He quickly issued the pick up message for Fairbanks then engaged the satellite transceiver.

"Rover one, Rover One. This is Old King Cole. Execute Three Blind Mice. Repeat, execute Three Blind Mice. Reference Trinity, reference Humpty Dumpty, reference Squad 51. Authentication is Romeo Zulu Bravo Niner Niner Six. Break."

* * * * *

 

Part 8 [2/2]

*Journada del Muerte*

(Journey of Death) by Dwane M. Bowen

<<"The gods conceal from men the happiness of death, that they may endure life.">> Lucan

***

"I don't know how you got that dustoff call routed through OPS, but I'm with you. I always dance with who brought me." said Jess Dugan.

"I've got a guardian angel..., and friends in high places", Nathan said.

Obviously..., thought Jess. As she walked back from the cockpit of the ISSACP, she looked down at West's comp pad.

"Nope..., those two 'installations' were overrun two days ago. One had been an ammo forward supply point, and the second seemed to be a communications relay or listening post."

"How about this one?" said West, pointing to the screen.

"Observation and sensors say it's a small group of buildings, possibly a mine head or geothermal tap. Seismic data indicates some sort ofintermittent subterranean activity. It was still 'contested territory' as of yesterday."

"But if I were hiding somebody in this sector, that's where I'd do it." mused Dugan. "Want to 'take a chance'?"

"You don't know the half of it." West said. "Take us down."

In the rest of the transport, the seven other members of Jess' team began to finish their final preparations. It took someone special to want to risk laying down their life to "bring 'em all back".

These were very special people.

The ISSAPC made a low-level stealth approach, and landed several kilometers from the group of buildings that Nathan had indicated.

Several high loiter time drone had been launched immediately prior to landing, and were delivering information back to the ISSAPC.

"See this, right here. What's that remind you of?", asked Nathan.

"Seems like some sort of Chig transport, hidden in that building. It looks like their loading it up, see how they've bunched everything up around the Cargo hatches. They're definitely getting ready to pull out..." Coop said, as he analyzed the images on the comp pad.

"Infrared and ground radar indicate that just two other buildings are occupied. One looks like a possible match for your 'skylight' palace, Nathan. We got to go in!" Coop couldn't help but sound rushed. The Chigs were making for a major retrograde troop movement. "They're pulling out, man. We gotta go now!"

West stood up, and started off fast and didn't look back. "OK, everybody, here's the scoop. Jess, I know you and your team don't know how we work. We don't even know yet. We haven't drilled with you, or your operating procedures and tactics. This isn't going to be pretty. In fact, this is going to happen in a bad way. I hope I don't get anyone of you killed."

"You've all seen the pictures. Vansen and Damphousse. Kill everything else that moves. There may be AI's in there, too. I say again. If it isn't Shane or 'Phousse, kill it. We don't have enough people to split up and flank them, much less form a security detail.

That will help us. We go in together, but don't bunch up. Cover the compass, and watch your sixes. We do Coop's 'Palace' first. If we have to, we fight our way to the Chig transport."

"We disengage as soon as we find them. The ISSAPC's pilots will wait here, with engines and guns hot. When you hear us light 'em up, come and get us. Cover that transport. I want you between us and the transport as a screen. Fire at anything you see moving, outside of us. Don't let that transport lift off."

I want to feel the breeze on my back-side from liftoff as soon as we cross the hatch. If you don't hear or see us after the firing stops, get the hell out of Dodge, and tell our Mom's we did our best."

"Any questions?..." Nathan looked around. "All right, lets do it."

***

The grenade blew out the door of the "Palace", and alerted the residents that visitor's were calling. Two Chigs were literally ripped in half from the cross-fire of six or seven M-590s. "Watch your fire, watch your fire!", Nathan yelled. "Coop take the left, I'll take the right. Will, you and Jess cover our backs, and keep the Chigs honest. Ready?"

Will, and half of Jess' team move just forward of everybody, and pointed their weapons at the front door of the hallway running through the Palace. Jess, and the rest of her team covered the entrance they had just made. One SAR marine, a staff sergeant, suddenly emptied half a magazine into a Chig coming to investigate the recent addition to the Palace.

"Hey, look! I got an officer", she said as she quickly loaded a newmagazine. Dropping to cover, she pocketed the half-empty one.

***

So far West was 0 for 1, with Coop batting no better despite his earlier practice. West nodded to a marine with a shotgun sighted up on the locking mechanism of the second door. The marine squeezed the trigger.

***

Shane was having the dream again. The Chig guard awkwardly turned to the door, raising his gauntlet weapon. Nathan kicked the door in, and started to shift his rifle from low carry to the ready position, but it was too late.

"Nathan, run!... NO!" It wasn't real, it never was, but it always hurt the same. Shane felt trapped, ready to die inside again, just as she did every time she had this dream.

***

The Chig fired at the same instant West did. It was a interesting trade-off. The M590 stitched the Chig from crotch to shoulder, and he started spooging immediately. The Chig's gauntlet weapon caught Nathan right over the sternum, and blew him back into Coop. The marine with the shotgun got off a lockbuster round. The ounce of sintered, compressed metal blew itself to powder by ripping open the helmet of the Chig, just like a can opener.

Coop grabbed Nathan with one arm, and brought his M590 around with his other. He was about to fire when he saw something, no, someone lying on the floor.

"Jess, help me!" Coop cried. Trying to cover the dead Chig while dodging the random shots from the room on the right, Coop lowered Nathan to the ground.

West moaned, and startled, tried to backpedal. The movement caused him to spasm, and he began to cough violently as he rolled over.

***

The door next to Will Saunders splintered with fire from the inside. Prone, Will rolled over and began to fire into the room. He aimed high, trying to pin down the Chig or Chigs behind the door without hurting any friendlies on the other side.

Signaling to one of Jess's team to keep up the fire, Will maneuvered away form the door enough to rise to a squat, with his back to the wall.

***

The team medic broke off from the rear guard and came to inspect West. There was a scorched hole in his battle armor. The ceramic metal-alloy trauma plate was fractured, and splashed with the remains of the Chig's projectile. There wasn't any blood the medic could see... but Nathan's lungs sounded bad.

Coop had let go of West for only one reason. Shane Vansen lay on her side, curled up on a pile of rags. Shielding her face with her knees, her arms grasped her legs in embrace.

She was semi-conscious, severely beaten, and dehydrated. When she looked up to see Cooper Hawkes, her eyes spoke terribly for the need of human company. She whispered hoarsely, "'Phousse, next ... door"

Coop reached her just as she passed out, not even seeing Nathan laying on the floor.

Cooper lowered Vansen, and signaled one of the SAR team to recover Shane.

"'PHOUSSE,...HIT THE DECK!" Coop screamed for all he was worth. Knowing it was to late for anything else, he emptied an entire magazine chest high, right through the partition.

***

Vanessa knew it would soon be over. The two Chigs in her room had been standing guard since she woke up form her last 'interrogation' with Felicity. Unable to move munch since the last beating, 'Phousse lay on her bedding, thinking about home, her ex, those few sweet minutes with Paul, and how stupid she had acted after them...

An explosion, followed by gunfire and several more explosions echoed through the building. There were more explosions outside, and something cast a flying shadow through the skylight and windows. The Chigs turned towards the door, and started firing through it.

Vanessa heard someone shout her name. "HIT THE...", and she covered her head with her arms

***

"...DECK!". Saunders heard the shout, and jumped across the hall, spinning around 180 degrees. Doing the same thing Coop was, he emptied his magazine into the room at the same height. The marine who had just blown the lock in the door, backed up and finished the magazine of the shotgun, too.

Two empty mags hit the floor, one after another. Everyone who had fired changed magazines, and the door buster stuffed shells into his shotgun.

Saunders shouted "Cease fire, Cease fire...!", and kicked the door in.Sweeping the room through a 180 degree arc, high and low, Will searched for targets. Nothing was standing, but there was a lot of fizzy green stuff speckling the walls and ceiling.

"All clear!"

Covering the remains of two Chigs, Will Saunder's said "You must be Vannessa Damphousse."

***

The ISSAPC's pilot spoke out on the common channel. "Jess, we've got FLASH traffic. Inbound hostiles, this sector. ETA is three minutes. Sensors indicate a Chig squadron." In the background, as the co-pilot manning the manual turret fired, the sound of the guns echoed the radio.

"Roger, we're picking up the pieces and coming out. Keep that transport pinned, or she'll blow us out of the sky when we run for it." As Jess spoke, everyone made for the entry blown open earlier.

Jess helped the medic to manhandle West outside, preceded by two of her squad. Coop and the staff sergeant moved Shane, while Will and the Marine with the shotgun carried Vanessa. The last two marines covered the retreat. "We're coming out. Prepare for liftoff"

The pilot, hearing Jess' last order, began throttling up the engines andpreparing for launch. His co-pilot shouted "Here they come", and opened the armored door of the ISSAPC.

At that moment, two human figures ran from the front of the building, heading for the Chig transport. The pilot followed them for a second, then heard the second crewman shout "All aboard. Wheels up, Wheels up!"

Then who the hell were those figures running toward the Chigs? "Are you positive all souls on board, Randi?" the pilot said. "I've got two people running for..."

"Roger on the passengers! All accounted for. Go, go, go!" she yelled,sealing the hatch and shoving her way forward to the cockpit.The pilot set all guns on auto, assigning the buildings and transport asprimary targets. The chin turret, now freed for fire, started blasting any targets that swung through its covered arc.

As the ISSAPC started to rise and rotate around to pull away, the pilot saw two humans rushing up the ramp to the Chig transport carrying what looked like a flimsy, tinted-glass coffin. He hit the manual override on the fire-control system. Having lost their assigned targets, the guns quit firing and stowed themselves in cruise mode.

He quickly examined the image from the FLIR/LL3DO pod slaved to the chin turret.. In the low-level lighting, it really looked like they were carrying a slab of lime-green Jell-O. With something, or someone, in it. He selected GUN/CAMERA on the flight data recorder console, and pulled the trigger button on his stick, saving the stereo digital images.

The pilot continued his rotation, and accelerated onto his new course.

***

Jess came up to the cockpit. Not wanting to interrupt the pilot, she spoke to the co-pilot.

"Randi, get on the command freak, tell them were heading back to the Sara with liberated MIAs. Have them vector any CAP Hammer-heads to cover our withdrawal." Jess turned to the pilot,

"What's the ...".

The ISSAPC rocked side to side, and dipped for the ground. As the pilot began to compensate, the terrain-following radar fired thrusters for and aft, helping to right the craft. The Chig transport had taken off almost vertically, racing for the edge of the atmosphere. Its wake and exhaust plumes had caught the ISSAPC in an artificial micro-burst.

"HooRahhh! Let's do it again" Jess looked over the tactical display on the main console. "OK. Now, once again, what's the ETA on that Chig squadron?"

"Sixty plus seconds, Jess. If we don't get the hell out of here, they'll be close enough to wave to before we ..."

Randi broke in. "I've got two CAP squadrons heading inbound, and told them to gun for anything that wasn't squawking our IFF. We're cleared for direct orbital insertion, and rendezvous with the Sara and her escorts."

"OK, we got everybody we came for. Let's go home. I'll head back and tell them what the inflight movie is."

"What about the two that ran for the Chig transport?" asked the pilot.

"Which two, everybody's onboard?" Jess answered, confused.

"These two"...

The monitor showed a still image of Felicity-OH and Elroy-L carrying what appeared to be the remains of Paul Wang, wrapped in a huge sandwich bag filled with Jell-O, up the ramp of the Chig transport. And Paul's eyes were open.

"Holy buckets! Talk about your ever-freaking miracles." Jess turned and made for the rear compartment.

***

"Shane, wake up! Stay awake, Shane" Coop said, as he checked Vansen for any injuries that needed immediate attention. Shooting through the walls had been the best of a bunch of bad choices, and Coop knew the risks of tumbling high-velocity rounds.

"'Phousse? Where's 'Phousse!" Shane whispered hoarsely.

"I'm right here, Shane. I'll be OK. We... we're going home."

Shane shut her eyes, and put her head back down. A single tear fell from her cheek.

Jess came back alongside West, who had just come around. "Listen up, Wildcards..."

***

"The value of compassion cannot be over-emphasized. Anyone can criticize. It takes a true believer to be compassionate. No greater burden can be borne by an individual than to know no one cares or understands." Arthur H. Stainback

-------

Cooper Hawkes stepped out of the shower stall and grabbed his towel. Not one to fluff and pat, he ran the towel through his wet hair and began to scour his body dry. Hawkes rubbed the navel on his neck, imagining, not for the first time, that it wasn't there.

"The only good thing about a milspec 'high and tight'" Hawkes thought, " Is that it dries in two minutes... I wish the shower lasted that long." The Sara had a lot of energy, but fresh water was always at a premium in a closed-cycle environment.

Hawkes secured the towel around his waist and padded into the washroom of the head. and looked up into the mirror. He stood there, trying to see the back of his neck. Twisting his back one way or the other, no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't get the angle right. After a couple of minutes, he gave up.

If he couldn't see it, why did something so small make such huge difference.

"Well, not to everybody..." he said to himself.

Hawkes looked around. The squad bunk-bay was quiet. Shane and 'Phousse were in sick bay, But held by the Chigs and the AIs.

The rest of the fifty-eighth was still at breakfast, or heading to the ready room.

Except maybe for Fairbanks. After their last round of "gentlemanlydiscourse", she might have learned some caution. But she was also still seeing a medic every morning. Well, so was West for that matter.

In light of the several 'accidents' and the upcoming rescue mission, though, he knew that it wasn't a afternoon nap they were planning for Lt. Cooper Hawkes. And just possibly, Vansen and Damphousse may be in more danger now than they were before.

Or West and Saunders, for that matter.

Hawkes glanced back into the mirror. The look of determination in his eyes didn't hide the redness from exhaustion and lack of sleep. But something unfamiliar flared in Coop's eyes. Rage. Rage and fear. He was torn between being afraid of what the next step was in the conspiracy to kill off the five-eight, and the rage at not being able to do something about it NOW.

It was clouding his judgment and consuming what little patience he had learned from West and Vansen. What had been becoming his more usual look of confidence in the mastery of his life was no where to be seen.

Cooper brushed his hand back through his hair, and decided to skip shaving.

Walking over to the wall lockers, Coop pulled out a flight suit and a pair of boots. Turning around, he tossed the suit on his bunk and the boots on the floor. Bending back into the locker, he fished around in the built-in drawers for a pair of skivvies and some socks. Throwing the towel into, or more closely, into the general vicinity of the laundry hamper, Coop walked over to his bunk and got dressed.

Across the study desk lay the manual that Coop had been bitching and moaning about over lately. "NATOPS Flight Manual: SA-43 Hammerhead and Variants". The entire section of the manual covering the SA-43R, the reconnaissance variant, was already dog-eared..

Coop's next mission was an intel-gathering jump. Coop was going to help find out who was going to be strenuously objecting to giving Wang a lift home. This was going to be a big one, the mother of all knife fights! You needed a sharp blade to do the best you could.

"MIRGS, hockey pucks, Easter eggs, and Dixie cups. Jeez!. Who thinks up these names? 'Lions and tigers and bears, Oh My!'". Coop went over to the book, and stood there for a minute.

The introductory material on the Recon suite for the SA-43R Raven covered stealthed multi-spectral sensors ('hockey pucks'), multi-modefrequency-agile transmitter-relays ('Easter eggs'), and the container/dispenser unit (which sort of looked like the paper cup-holder inthe head). Supposedly the Easter eggs gathered the raw data from the hockey pucks and the MIRGS gathered the data from the Easter eggs, collating, encrypting, and relaying it into deep space. In the one hundred and sixteen pages of that section, there were exactly seven pictures, and one line drawing. And nowhere in the book did it explain what an "Easter egg" was.

Saunders had said it all made sense to him, and had even tried to explain why they were called Easter eggs in the first place.

"Well, maybe he's a better man than I am.", Coop observed.

"...Naahh".

Like the Wizard behind the curtain, Coop had more than he could handle to make things work. And he wasn't sure of which levers to pull or buttons to push. It just seemed that everybody in Oz wanted a piece of the five-eight's ass. The monitors at the Philadelphia center hadn't gotten around to explaining this kind of stuff to him, much less teaching him the 687th way to kill a human being. But before he'd had to excuse himself from the curriculum, Number 27 had worked just fine.

Coop knew that he would find a way to deal with it. One way or another.

-------

"Men do less than they ought, unless they do all that they can."

ThomasCarlyle

-------

There was still a lot of planning left to do to get to Wang. And Hawkes intel was going to be a major part of that planning. The interrogation of the few prisoners captured on the raid on 2063-R Sat-3 was still ongoing. The three available SAR teams, including Jess Dugan's team, were prepping for the rescue mission. And as humanely possible, 'Phousse and Shane were being debriefed.

It was Paul's turn for rescue; no one was getting left behind this time.

"Everyone's coming home from this one." Coop thought. "That's a promise."

Hawkes turned and opened the hatch. Stepping through, he let the hatch sigh shut and sealed it with a muffled clang. Inside the empty bay, the lights turned themselves off.

**********************************

End of Part Eight [2/2]

 

Dwane M. Bowen

dmbowen@carlisle.microserve.com