Sons of Abraham: Pawns of Terror (7 page)

“I don’t like this,” she stated, bringing her sites to eye level.

His first instinct was the flirtation, but his brain quickly corrected his thought pattern, reminding him of the situation they were facing. Unlike the Corporal, Sargent Bearden was able to prevent his face from turning red.

“Yeah, they should be mowing us down right now,” he replied, pressing himself against the wall. “Not that I’m complaining. I rather enjoy breathing.”

They continued down the empty corridor, but their search was less detailed than it was previously. Somehow, they both knew they wouldn’t find anything until they reached the end of the line, the place where the lab met the storage and shipping junctions.

“I’ve been texting Central,” she mentioned casually. “They’re sending ten to reinforce us. I’ll tell them to head directly to the final lab. Should be here in about five minutes.”

“Let’s hold up here then,” he ordered, pulling one of the lab doors open.

The two slid into the empty lab. It wasn’t empty in the sense that no one was working in the lab. It was empty in the sense that it was EMPTY, completely void of any equipment or tables. The Tower was bigger than necessary, something Ilda had reminded him of on numerous occasions. Every time he tried to assign direct security to the Tower, she always brushed him off and stated that there wasn’t enough going on inside to warrant more men in drab. It wasn’t the first time his military uniform had been referred to as dull or drab, but he didn’t care for the comment coming from someone in a plain white lab coat. That kettle couldn’t get any blacker.

“What are you expecting in there?” she asked, trying not to look down the hallway.

Bear didn’t hear her question, his mind locked into the rows of empty racks that occupied to back half of the empty lab. Each rack had a cell, roughly four feet tall and almost as wide as he was. He crouched down, taking a closer look at one of the empty slots in the metal rack. The gray paint had been flaked off, a black mark taking its place.

“What’s wrong Sarge?” she asked, taking an interest in the empty racks he was examining.

“Not sure,” he replied, looking up at her. “You have any idea what they were working on in here?”

She shook her head.

“Yeah, me too,” he continued, looking back to the rack. “I learned a long time ago not to ask about the assets I protected. The less you know, the less responsible you are. This scuff mark is recent, though like someone had to push their boot against the rack to pick up whatever was on it. There aren’t any other dents in the rack, so whatever was in here must have been properly handled before today.”

“So what’s four feet wide and four feet tall?” she asked, kneeling over the rack next to him. “I doubt they’d have this secret facility protected by the military for medical research. Didn’t Doctor Green ever hint what was in here?”

Bear thought back to all his conversations with Ilda Green. He could recall conversations between her and the Major, but he was never able to hear what all was being said. He wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but sometimes you can’t help but hear things.

“It doesn’t matter,” he snapped, standing up straight. “We need to get moving.”

“But they’ll be here in like, two minutes,” she replied, chasing after him.

Bear stopped at the end of the hall, the door to the shipping facility directly before him. He motioned for her to get the panel, not wanting to see if his security code would work or not. If they had locked him out of this hallway, then surely they would have done the same here. Janys stood next to the panel, but folded her arms over her chest, silently demanding more information.

“They don’t have a hundred troops with them,” he informed her.

“How can you possibly know?” she replied.

“The harriers from the south were only a distraction. There’s nothing of value on that side of the facility. However, if the inside guys failed to secure the turrets, then they’d need a backup team to reach the Tower. They didn’t come here to take over the facility, they came here to steal something, something big. You can’t steal something if you don’t have room on your ship for it, so half those harriers were empty. North and south teams, half empty harriers.”

“That could still leave twenty-five, plus, however, many were already here.”

“We won’t know either way until we find them, so get that door open.”

She hesitated, but eventually started her bypass of the lockdown. She could hear the boots stomping the floor behind her, proving that her stalling had bought their backup time to arrive. The door had just opened when the team of ten soldiers closed in behind them. Bear motioned for them to follow as he lifted his rifle and passed through the open doorway.

They were met with gunfire the second the Bearden crossed into the room. The first shot grazed his shoulder before he could manage to duck behind an I-beam that held the wall in place. Half the soldiers fell back, using the doorway for cover. Janys slid in behind the Sargent as more shots ricocheted off the beam.

Bear recalled the scene his eyes witnessed before ducking behind the beam. The outer doors were open with the back of one harrier visible to them. There were three men, all in military uniform, pushing carts full of wide cylinders into the open vessel. Four men had stayed back, their weapons now raining bullets on them. Two of them wore lab coats, the other two wore Divinity Security uniforms. He’d recognized the man that’d fired the first shot as one of Ilda’s assistants.

“I just need one alive,” Bear shouted as he edged his rifle around the corner of the beam and opened fire.

Janys ducked down, pressing her rifle next to Bearden’s knee as she opened fire on the military men across the docking back. Her shots were drowned out by the deep percussions of Bear’s rifle, but she managed to remain focused on her own spray. One of the lab coats went down, red splattering the white as the man crashed to the concrete floor. Two more came around the corner, mowed down by one of the soldiers behind the Sargent. Janys felt Bear’s knee move. She pulled her rifle back to allow him to reload. His eyes caught her stare as she took his empty cartridge and sat it in the corner. There was only one assault rifle like his in the compound, making the magazines difficult to replace. She didn’t know if he’d have to reload them immediately after this ordeal, but she wanted to ensure he had at least on empty magazine to fill.

Bear had just edged his rifle around the beam when he caught two sets of mirror eyes looking back at him. Their uniforms differed from the others, with heavy armor covering their bodies and long barreled rifles in their hands. The armor was dark gray, molded to fit their physiques, with various pockets spread throughout. Black belts, gloves, and boots were worn, as well as a cylinder launcher strapped to their thighs. The rifles were menacing enough, but Bear knew they were finished if the newcomers opted to fire grenades or gas cylinders at them.

“Cybers!” Bear shouted, flipping the lever on the side of his rifle from single shot to semi. The gun had an auto option, but it needed to be belt fed to do any good.

The soldiers from the doorway trained their sights on the two armored men with the long rifles, but their brains were taking too long to give their bodies orders. Both of the long barrels were raised, with deafening shots ringing out from the open dock doors. The lack of gunfire coming from behind Bear informed him that he’d just lost two soldiers. He sprayed bullets towards the two Cybers with the long rifles, but they’d already moved out of his view.

He thought ahead, placing himself in the shoes of the Cybers. They’d dropped two of his men already, but the remaining targets had ducked out of their view. If he were they, he’d…….

“Fall back!” he shouted, grabbing Janys by the collar and retreating to the doorway.

The Corporal hesitated at first, but the larger soldier yanked her from her crouched position, dragging her away from the I-beam. Her feet drag against the floor until she managed to get a running start, pulling up next to the Sargent as he retreated around the corner, still dragging her in tow.

The other soldiers caught on too late as the cylinders hit the floor between the panels of the doorway. The blast blew Bearden and James off their feet, sending them face first into the floor as shrapnel and bits of soldier sailed past them. Janys hadn’t noticed at first, but the Sargent had pulled her around him, then shoved her out in front of his body. His shoulder lay against her right calf, pinning her to the floor until she slid it out from under the motionless man.

“Sarge!” she shouted, trying to roll him over to his back.

She had to stand up and shove her fingers underneath the harness before she was able to gain enough leverage to move the large man. He fell onto his back, his head swaying along with his body. A stream of blood fell from his forehead, but his eyes were stirring underneath their lids. She checked his pulse before pulling a pack from her pocket. She ripped the foil open, then folded the gauze open and pressed it to his forehead.

Her attention returned to the carnage behind her. The contrasting scene offered her the edge of the white hallway, met with the black of the charred destruction from the grenade. The ceiling had collapsed, the cables and wiring hanging halfway down to the floor. Sparks flew from the damage as the sprinkler system kicked in. She fumbled to one side, reaching out for her rifle. Her hand came up empty, leaving a pit in her stomach as she realized she must have dropped it during the blast. Given little options, she slid the strap of the cannon hanging from Bear’s shoulder and lifted the sights to eye level. Footsteps were coming hard from the blast. She crouched over Bear’s chest, doing her best to shield him from the oncoming threat.

The heavy footsteps grew louder as she tightened her muscles, shoving the stock of the rifle against her shoulder while trying to use her knee to steady her shot. The assault rifle was impossibly heavy, intended for use with a tripod or vehicle mount rather than to be held naked. She counted the steps, then squeezed back on the trigger.

**********

The Hopper rested mercifully on the surface of Taurus, commonly referred to as the Farming planet. Taurus was one of the first planets to be terraformed once the Gabriel Rings had been created. The early Cybers had attempted to find the perfect balance between water and land, providing the farms with adequate rainfall while optimizing the harvest seasons. The distance and orbit of Taurus to her star offered a long spring, a mild summer, and a relatively short winter compared to Earth. The terraship had rained down heavily upon the landscape, creating thousands of miles of flat lands in which to plant, but with channels for rain runoff. The early settlers had struggled as the terraforming had been cut short, the dire situation on Earth not allowing for the recommended germination period that the Cybers had suggested. Thousands of tons of crops had been wasted in the early years until an equal tonnage of chemicals had been used to add nutrients to the soil.

Bullsrun was one of the larger cities on the planet, named for the cattle ranches that stretched for hundreds of miles, all the way to the east coast of the western continent. The city grew quickly as the ranches became successful, creating the second largest trading post in the system. Other planets would send ships from the corners of the terraformed galaxy to retrieve loads of beef that the Taurus ranches provided, forming its own stock market overnight.

Other businesses had sprouted up as well, ranging from equipment merchants to advertising agencies. The latter was thought to be a joke at first as the entire galaxy knew where to go for beef. However, as other planets were terraformed, the advertising became necessary, as was the stock market that dictated the price per pound. If the ranchers weren’t competitive with the markets of other planets, the business would slowly die, leaving Earth as the only place in need of their services. The government on Earth had attempted to prevent other planets from exporting their beef, keeping Taurus as the chief supplier to the galaxy. Monopoly laws, however, still remained in effect. Thus, the competitive prices were allowed to flourish, causing a fair amount of the smaller ranches to sell out to the larger ones. It seemed that the galactic monopoly gave way to the planet monopoly, causing four ranches to buy up all the usable lands they could afford in order to remain in business. Skirmishes had broken out amongst the competing ranches, forcing Taurus to create a security task force to maintain the peace. The task force grew, becoming the chief source of policing for the continent, as well as their own form of internal military. The incidents between the ranchers and the task force became so common that the MA’s were forced to intervene, forming their own outpost on the outskirts of the ranching community.

Due to the flourishing trade amongst the blossoming shops and businesses of Taurus, spaceports became necessary. This is where Julius Quaid had opted to land the Hopper, the group agreeing that Bullsrun was large enough for Abraham to steal a data pad and inquire about himself over the stream. Per his request, the Cyber had left the ship on his own, not wishing to risk any of the crew on his mission. The laws of Taurus were harsh, adopting an eye for an eye mentality that was seldom seen in modern times.

Abraham walked down one of the dozens of streets in Bullsrun, noting the variety of cultural influences upon the planet. Many of the buildings were made from wood, given the mild winters and availability of forest for building supplies. One whole street of the town had been dedicated towards the Old West on Earth, offering a line of wooden storefronts and trading post. The windows were the typical transitional plastic, a mainstay for those wishing to keep their electrical use to a minimum. The saloons on the street had glass doors that swung in both directions, a wooden cover shaped like the wooden doors of old, the glass allowing for the building to be sealed off from the weather.