Battle Group Epsilon

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

March 22 2184, 08:15 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Aboard UNSF Carrier "Hippocrates"

Grabowski didn't know how anyone got the acronym MAKO out of Marine Armored Carrier but then again, no one really gave a shit what he thought. "Load em up Marines! Go, go, go!" the Sarge yelled. He fell in line and ran up the boarding ramp of the transport. There were a total of twelve seats, six against each side of the dropship. He secured his weapon up top and took his seat. He pulled down the metal harness that held him securely in place. It reminded him of the type of harnesses they used for rides at amusement parks. Grabowski and the eight other men in his squad filled the seats leaving three left. The Lieutenant sat in the cockpit with the pilot.
The hatch closed and the lights snapped off. Map lights turned on making it so that the only colors they could see were red and black. The Sarge keyed the mic and said, "All secure, sir. We're ready to roll."
"Copy that Sergeant," said the pilot. She had a southern accent. "Take off in five seconds. Hold onto your asses boys."
Grabowski counted in his head and the MAKO shot forward. The little space ship shook violently as it gained velocity.
"ETA in eleven minutes," the pilot told them. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride."
"Hey Sarge," Grabowski said.
"What is it, Private?"
"You think this will be counted toward my frequent flyer miles?"
Some of the squad laughed. All the shaking on that ship was enough to fray everyone's nerves. Grabowski took it onto himself to lighten the mood. He turned to Private Freeman beside him. "No in flight movie or nothing? I wanna speak to this airline's manager."
The transport jolted suddenly as it began to decelerate. Everyone cursed in unison. "If we get anymore freaking turbulence," Chavez said. "I'm going to shit a brick."
"Hey man," said Freemen. "If you actually shit a brick every time you said you would, you could build a castle by now."
"Shut up, man," Chavez said.
Grabowski looked out the port window. Part of the colony came into view. It was massive. The central hub glowed red. He was no physicist but he knew there were thrusters there for stabilization so that the main colony would spin around it. There was a cluster of shuttles and small transports near the main boarding section. Their MAKO headed for the opposite end.
"We're going dark," the Pilot said. "Make sure all electronics are turned off. If they see us now, then this whole mission was a waste."
The engine cut out suddenly and they floated along, relying on inertia to bring them closer to the colony. They waited for several minutes. A shiver went through the transport and he felt it change direction. Something had latched onto the MAKO and was pulling them onboard. He looked through the porthole as they were pulled inside. The ship shuddered to a halt.
The Marines popped up their restraints and stood. Grabowski reached up and grabbed his weapon, a silenced sub machinegun. It was mostly plastic and every time he held the thing, he was sure we was going to break it. He felt exposed somehow without his M36A2. It was the foundation of the Colonial Marines, you never left home without it.
"Alright people," said the Sarge as he stood. "Quit the hunky dory bullshit. It's game time, look alive." Grabowski tightened his helmet and the straps to his body armor. It reminded him of the pads he wore for high school football. There were rounded plates that covered his shoulders and plates for his back and chest. The chest plate extended all the way down to his abs and then had a separate plate hung down to cover his groin. The whole thing was green with spots of black and brown for camouflage. It wasn't too heavy but the plates were stiff and could feel cumbersome. However, the Titanium Nanotide Composite Armor offered unparalleled protection. It was the same thing used to armor USNI ships.
The hatch opened up and they filed out of the ship. The hangar was small. There were forklifts and all types of unloading equipment strapped to the walls. Grabowski guessed that it must have been a dock used to unload supplies from commercial ships. A grappling device of some sort was attached to the tip of the MAKO. Beside its controls stood a man in blue docking coveralls. He walked over, looking slightly intimidated by the Marines.
"You the operative?" the Sarge asked. The man nodded his head. "I'm Sergeant Garrett."
"I can't tell you my name," he said.
"That's fine," said the Sarge. "Why don't you just show us this access tunnel."
He hesitated a moment and said, "It's this way."
Grabowski exchanged looks with Freemen. "Squirrelly looking fellow, ain't he?"
"Yeah, really inspires confidence."
He led them further into the hanger and down a corridor. They passed more equipment and a large conveyor belt to transport goods. They stopped at a door that said ‘Authorized Personnel Only'. The operative dug into his pocket and pulled out a security card. He swiped it through the reader and the door opened up. He and the Marines walked inside. It was a tight squeeze. It was a bare room with nothing unusual except for an open access panel in the center of the floor.
"The sewers are just down there," the unknown man said. "I presume you know the way from there?"
"Yeah."
"Then this is where we part ways," he said. "Good luck." He turned and left them in the single room with the hatch.
The Sarge looked at them and said, "Alright. Temple, Mac, you two setup the COMM relay and cover this room. This is our way out; make sure it stays that way."
It took less than a minute for them to deploy the relay transmitter. It made it so that the squad could talk between each other and all the way back to the Lieutenant on the ship. It also ensured no one else could listen in. "Lieutenant, do you read me?"
"Loud and clear Sergeant," Grabowski heard the Officer say over his own earpiece. "What's your status?"
"We're at the access tunnel now, about to make our way into the sewers."
"Alright. Our time frame for this is a little limited. This colony doesn't follow Standard Solar Time, right now its 4:25AM. Our target should be asleep for the next hour or so."
"Roger that sir." The Sarge looked back at them. "Ok ladies, you heard the man, quit standing there with your thumbs up your asses. Lets get in and get out. Grabowski, you got point."
"Thanks a lot Sarge."
"Don't say I never gave you nothing. Move it people."
Grabowski shouldered his weapon and took his first step down. It was dark below and he had to watch his step. He didn't smell anything yet and hoped that didn't change. His feet touched the bottom and he turned on his lights. He had a large floodlight attached to his armor just above his right shoulder and a smaller one attached to his helmet. They cut through the gloom and revealed a room similar to the one above; completely bare except for the ladder and a door. The door had a button to open it.
"All clear," he said over the mic.
"Alright," the Sarge said. "Freemen you're up. Let's go."
Grabowski moved across the steel grated floor over to the corner of the room. He leveled his gun off at the door. Something about this place made him feel uneasy. Freemen joined him and so did the others.
He moved over to the door controls and Freemen stood next to him. He waited until the Sarge gave the orders. "Do it," he said in his gruff voice. Grabowski hit the open button with the muzzle of his weapon and stood back. The door slid to the side with a mechanical hum and Freemen said, "Shit." He nodded. It was about the only way to describe the situation.
The metal grated floor forked off to two sides of the long sewer while sludge and human waste flowed between them in a small canal. The odor was like nothing he had experienced before. It made his eyes water.
"That's real nice Sarge," Freemen said.
The Sergeant gritted his teeth and said, "Let's go." The squad split into teams going down the fork in the catwalk. They double-timed it across the one point two kilometers they had to cover and reached their target in less than seven minutes. They entered the access way and made sure to shut the door behind them.
"Goddamn," Chavez said. "That stink's gonna be on me for a week."
"Don't flatter yourself," Grabowski said. "You never smelled that great to begin with."
"f*** you," Chavez said indignantly.
"Quiet," the Sarge said in a tone that let them know he was serious. "From this point on, hand signals only. Freemen, Chavez, and Grabowski, you're up. The rest of you stay here. If the shit hits the fan, come up guns blazing. Otherwise, sit tight."
"You got it Sarge."
The Sarge hit the COMM button and said, "Lieutenant, we're heading in now."
"Ok Sergeant, you've got thirty three minutes remaining. You let me know the second you've secured the package."
"Yes, sir." He killed the channel and said, "Kill the lights, we're going in. switch to nightvision. Remember, this is a stealth op so don't engage unless you have to. Let's go." Grabowski flipped his lights and pulled down his spectrometer goggles. He switched the setting to nightvision and his team mates appeared as green and black silhouettes. In addition, their name, rank, and NAVID number appeared above their heads. All Navy personnel received nano-implants after boot.
The Sarge took point this time, climbing up the ladder with the other three close at his heals. He eased open the hatch above and poked his head up to take a look. He gave them the all clear sign and they followed him out. The first thing Grabowski noticed was that it was cold. His breath frosted every time he exhaled. He'd been on several colonies before and they had always been climate controlled to about twenty two degrees Celsius. Maybe the weather synthesizer was malfunctioning.
He climbed out of the hole and hunkered down beside Freemen. He pointed and Grabowski saw the Sarge and Chavez across an open field. This whole area was open. There was a small cluster of trees a few meters away and a couple rolling hills. The building itself was mostly dark. There were lights on at the main entrance and dim light from two of the upper level windows.
He decided this must be one of those luxury colonies; home to the rich and the famous. The fact that their target had such a large piece of property meant he must be quite financially secure. Better than what the Marines pay at least.
The Sarge waved to them and they moved up. They were crouched down behind a shed about twenty meters from the target building.
"Ok," the Sarge whispered. "I can't see any guards up front, but we're not taking any chances. There's a window over to the side." The Sarge walked over from the shed in a half crouch with his gun aimed up. They followed him. The distance seemed much greater than it had before, every centimeter left them exposed and vulnerable to fire. They reached the side without incident though.
The window was covered in steel wire for protection against intruders. They hadn't counted on the Marines coming to pay a visit though. Chavez pulled out a tube of Nano-Sulfuric spray from his belt. He squirted it onto the metal in a two foot by three foot rectangle. The metal sizzled and sloughed away as the compound ate through it. Tiny wisps of smoke rose and the rectangular grating came loose. Chavez grabbed it and leaned it against the building. He checked his watch. After twenty seconds, the chemical would oxidize and be safe for them to touch. Chavez gave them a thumbs up and they leaned in and popped open the window.
They climbed through the window and went inside. Grabowski listened for an alarm, something they might have tripped but he heard only their own movement and the chirping crickets outside.
The window brought them into the main living room. It was large with maple paneled walls and several thickly padded chairs. There was a kitchen connected directly to the room, two corridors, and a flight of stairs that led to the second and third floors.
Lieutenant Hornberg might have been inexperienced and full of that OCS arrogance, but he was also thorough. As a whole, the entire military was painfully thorough, but for once Grabowski didn't mind. During the mission briefing he and the rest of the squad had studied schematics and 3-D holographic blueprints of the building for an hour and a half. They knew the layout of the building like they had lived there for months.
The Sarge motioned to Grabowski and Freemen to sweep the second floor bedrooms. Freemen nodded and they headed up the double flight of stairs. Freemen took point and they tiptoed up the red carpeted stairs. His heart stopped every time they creaked, and they creaked frequently.
Something felt wrong. Where the hell were all the guards? Assuming there were one or two at the front entrance, there should have been a few more around somewhere, running patrol or just keeping watch. This was too easy.
When they reached the top, Freemen took out a fiber optic sensor and curled it around the corner. It sent the feed directly to his goggles showing the infrared image of whatever lay ahead. He gave the all clear signal and they continued ahead.
The guard lounge was on this floor. He heard sound coming from beneath the door of what sounded like a ball game. They slid past it and stopped at the third door on the left. It was one of the master bedrooms. Freemen wormed the optic beneath the door and scanned the room. He signaled that it was empty. That didn't make sense. Where the hell was their target? Grabowski signaled for them to enter and gave the three second countdown with his fingers. Grabowski opened the door and Freemen went in gun raised. He followed.
There was a king size bed with satin sheets. They were disheveled but the bed was empty. There was a bathroom too. They checked but it was deserted too. They went back to the bedroom and looked around. Freemen opened a closet and Grabowski searched through a dresser drawers. There were folded shirts, socks and underwear. He checked underneath the socks but there were no hidden stashes weapons, drugs, or even a dirty magazine. Grabowski was beginning to wonder if Intel had sent them to the wrong house. In the bottom drawer though, he hit the jackpot.
There was a datapad, and a half dozen rolled up posters. He looked closer and saw what looked like a set of blue prints, a land map of what looked like Mars, and a star chart. He picked them all up and shut the drawer.
A shiver went down his back. Suddenly he knew that he was being watched. He turned and saw someone standing in the doorway. It was one of their targets, the unidentified one with a scar running down his face. He had a pistol in his hand and he was looking right at Grabowski.
He ran through in his mind the different tactical options he had in a heartbeat. They weren't numerous or ideal. He could tell him to freeze and hoped he would. Something told him he wouldn't. He could shoot to disable. No one would here his weapon but they would here the man's scream if he cried out. He could shoot to kill and that would ensure their presence wasn't learned but he was under direct orders to take him alive.
His target took the initiative into his own hands. He raised the pistol and aimed it at him. His choice was clear. Grabowski began to dodge to the right with the rolls of paper and datapad in his left hand, submachine gun in his right. His pistol fired before he could bring his own weapon up. The muzzle flashed and the light was amplified through his goggles.
The bullet missed, or maybe it didn't. Grabowski would often wonder but was never sure. The bullet struck the datapad. A quarter of it exploded, sending bits of plastic and electrical components everywhere in a shower of sparks.
Freemen fired as well. The weapon burped, sending a three round burst at their attacker. One round struck the man in the shoulder and he cried out. It was a clean shot though, in and out without much damage. That was a problem with the submachine guns, and also why Grabowski despised them. They had the stopping power of a high velocity BB gun.
The man with the scar dove back into the corridor and slunk away. Freemen and Grabowski went after him. He poked his head around the corner and ducked back just as three slugs blew away plaster and splinters of wood in the wall he hid behind. A pair of guards from the lounge had them pinned. He pulled a flashbang from his belt, yanked out the pin with his finger and tossed it into the hall as the spoon flew away.
He waited for the flash and turned the corner. He and Freemen burst fired their weapons and took care of the guards. They had automatic rifles, older models that didn't have the implanted ID chips. They wore black clothes and vests but otherwise had no armor. The man with the scar was no where to be seen. They ran down the stairs and shot another guard that was running up.
Downstairs they regrouped with the Sarge and Chavez. They had a prisoner between them with duck tape over his hands and mouth. "Where's the other one?" the Sarge asked.
"He took off," said Freemen. "He's gone man."
"Shit," said the Sarge. "Alright, let's get the hell outta here." They left and went out the front door. If there were any guards there, they would have heard the noise and gone inside by now. The five of them double timed it for the access tunnel.
Chavez was running right beside him. A bullet caught him high in the chest. Grabowski heard the gun shot but not Chavez. It punctured his lung and that must be why never called out. The wind got knocked out of him.
"Oh shit," Grabowski said. The Sarge and Freemen turned to see what had happened. Freemen ran back to help Chavez up to his feet. Grabowski got to his knee and fired. The man that had shot Chavez was standing just outside the house. He dropped him in three shots. Freemen had his arm around Chavez, who looked very disoriented. They half jogged back to the tunnel. The other three Marines were there as well, up top and securing the tunnel with guns ready. It had hit the fan.
They climbed down and headed to the far end, back to the ship. The Sarge called in to Hornberg. "We've got the package and are heading back. Have the engines hot when we get there Lieutenant, the jig's up."
"I hear you Sergeant, good work," the Lieutenant said. "Get back to the bird and let's get home."
Halfway down the sewer, Freemen and Grabowski traded off. He helped out Chavez and handed over the captured equipment. "Let's go big guy," he said. "Let's get back home and you can shit all the bricks you want." Chavez just grunted and shuffled along with his feet. His face was becoming pale and his eyes glazed.
"Incoming!" Grabowski didn't know who yelled it but he knew better than to try to figure it out. He and Chavez dove to the ground as something exploded. Sludge splattered everywhere. He pulled Chavez back up and continued to run. They were taking fire from behind, being pursued down the tunnel. Two of the Marines fired back. They weren't aiming to kill, just to slow their pursuit and keep their heads down. They reached their exit and went inside. They climbed up the ladder and Chavez needed help near the top. Once they were out, the Sarge said, "Mac! Seal up this hatch."
Mac took her portable torch out from her belt and set to work without a word. She welded the hatch shut in under a minute as Grabowski shielded his eyes from the light. They opened the door and ran back to the ship the way they had come. The docks were no longer empty. A few workers and foremen were at work now, checking shipments and sipping coffee. They watched in wonder as the squad ran by, but none said a word to them.
Their MAKO was where they left it and the hatch was opened up for them. The pilot stood in the troop compartment waiting for them. She saw Chavez and said, "Bring him up here."
"Come on, we're almost there."
Chavez was putting most of his weight onto Grabowski. His legs were still working but not in unison or with any degree of coordination. They hobbled up the ramp and the pilot gave him a hand. She had green eyes and blond hair that was rolled into a tight bun. They laid him down onto the deck as the others filed in, taking their seats.
"Take off his armor and shirt," she told him. He did as he was told while she readied a compress and gave him some morphine.
"Chavez man, you're doing good," Grabowski said. "How you feeling?"
"Fine," he said with some pain. He coughed and frothy blood came up.
"The bullets still inside and his lung is collapsing," she said. "We need to get him to a surgeon fast."
"You used to be a doctor or something?" he asked.
"No, I used to be a nurse or something," she replied. She put the compress on and put pressure on the wound. "I'm Foster."
"Grabowski."
"Grabowski, he's too wounded to sit in the restraint seats so we need to strap him to the deck. There's some straps in that crate over their. Tie him down and I'll fly us out of this mess."
He got the leather straps and bucks and tightened him down to the deck. He slapped him on the shoulder and said, "Hang on Chavez." He stood and got into his own seat. He pulled the harness down until it clicked shut and the MAKO backed out. Their prisoner sat in the seat next to him. He looked about nervously at the Marines that had taken him captive.
The MAKO left the artificial gravity of the ship and Grabowski felt weightless in his seat. He was pushed against the side of the harness however once the ship's thrusters kicked in and they rocketed back to the Hippocrates.