Untitled (Chapter III - part 2)

***

Alliance Controlled Territory

Former State of Vermont

One mile southwest of Joint Base Archer-Beaker

0940 Hours

Sarah peered through the lenses of her mags toward the southwest corner of the base. The early fall yet still bright morning sun had chased away most of the dense fog which had enveloped her run. The newfound warmth on her exposed face was soothing after her fast trek through the cold valley. From her vantage point on a rocky outcrop she could just see over the tree tops the razor wire fencing surrounding the airfield in the distance. She focused her gaze through the mags on the hangars beyond the razor wire. If the drags were here, that was most likely their location she had surmised. At least they weren’t on the flight deck, a good sign she thought. If they were here and were inside the hangar, there would most likely be no need to engage them… most likely.

Sarah lowered the mags enough so that she could peer over them. She scanned northward, noting the electronic surveillance cameras and listening devices spaced evenly along the fence line. Even at this distance, she could hear the low hum of electrified wires interwoven within the razor wire fence. To the north, an automated defensive tower stood at mid point along the western border of the base. Within the defensive tower would be the alliance’s standard 50mm turret, she guessed. From where it was positioned it would be capable of engaging any threat along the entire western front of the base. Additional infrared, acoustic, visual and millimeter radio scanning devices were also housed within the tower itself. Sarah knew she needn’t worry about the active scanning devices but the passive acoustic device could be a problem. Her thermally insulated suit would bend any electromagnetic scans around her, rendering her invisible to both the A.I. system as well as to the uniformed gunners who were always on duty. To any troops assaulting the base from this angle, the automated system could detect, target and easily eliminate most anything that approached. And if that wasn’t enough, the gunners themselves could take manual control and unleash devastating destruction from the safety of somewhere deep under the base.

But Sarah was no ordinary threat; her only vulnerability was the acoustic detector. Any sound outside an established baseline of acoustic signals in the surrounding area would immediately bring the system online as identification of the source was attempted. Identification failure could trigger a lethal response from the autonomic system.

Sarah lifted the mags to her eyes once again and zoomed onto the defensive tower. They had rebuilt it quickly she thought. She had allowed too much time to pass since her assault nearly four weeks prior when she had destroyed the original tower. The replacement had come with some improvements in armor, which was obvious from her view. What she didn’t know was what, if anything, had been upgraded on the inside. Despite even her tremendous advantages, Sarah was not about to underestimate her enemy. If there was one lesson her years of combat had taught her was that over confidence would get you killed… quickly. She had not been expecting the defensive tower to be operational again and that was going to make her day just that much longer.

“First the battle drags, now this.” Sarah whispered to herself, “What have you boys set up for me this time?”

Sarah knew she had to get closer and to a better vantage point. She needed to try to identify any new systems in the tower before she began her assault. That tower had to come down. Unfortunately her trusted [PING] missiles would not be able to penetrate the armor plating. She needed something else to do that or she needed a way to get close enough to take it out herself; a risky strategy however, even for her and she knew it.

But first, she needed to get a better look at the base beyond the fence. Sarah lifted the mags back to her eyes and swung them slightly back toward the hangars. One of the shelters would house the drags – if, in fact, they were here. But the other hangars could just as easily house additional air power as well or even ground based assault vehicles. It was not inconceivable that whoever was on board those drags this morning were now huddled within those hangars; on call at a moment’s notice to react to any threat. Engaging the base a second time in a month was not without risk. Security patrols had definitely been increased since she had last been in the area. Already Sarah had circumvented three separate patrols on her way here this morning, not counting the drag flyby.

Sarah noted armed guards stationed outside one of the hangars’ door in particular; a decoy was not out of possibilities. In addition, she had noted three roving patrols of two man teams. Each patrol moved along the far side of the landing strip which separated the western fence and the hangars. At minimum a two hundred yard sprint would be required to reach the structures once she was inside the fencing. The two man teams would need to be dealt with at some point she thought.

Sarah’s battle hardened mind began to fit together the sequence of events of her assault. Her primary target was beyond the hangars. A third story window overlooking the southwest forest behind her. If rebel intelligence was correct, one of Gentech’s top directors would soon be her prisoner. She hoped he would resist. Suddenly her mind was snapped out from its strategic planning. Her eyes had caught movement to the right of her field of vision. She quickly focused her lenses in the direction her reflexes had indicated. There, coming from the south an unnoticed vehicle moved along the southern fence line toward her position. It glided quietly along at a quick pace. Oddly, she had not picked up on any engine noise. This realization confused her for a moment as she re-focused her lenses on the moving vehicle.

“Electric…” she whispered again to herself and of course Sarah knew exactly why. “It seems even you boys are conserving these days, well isn’t that interesting.”

Fuel was not just at a premium now. It was the primary reason several wars in the past twenty years had been fought in parts of the world no one had ever heard of until we were suddenly in a war “spreading democracy”. But these days everyone knew the real score. World peak oil production had topped out in the first decade of the twenty first century but no one had seemed to notice; at least not the average citizen at the time. But then again, it certainly wasn’t breaking news on any program run by mainstream media.

It had taken nearly ten years before Americans began to see the quickly rising gasoline prices. By then it was too late and the next decade saw ever increasing shortages and eventual riots. Things had changed quickly in those very short years. It seemed that almost overnight the American dream had come crashing down around an uninformed and unaware populous. Sarah despised that generation. To her and most of her peers they were a fat, lazy and ignorant people by any measure. Too busy consuming to notice the slow takeover of their lives by the very government which was purported to be by, of and for them. The fuel riots of 2018 marked the year of her birth. A distinction she pulled from her memory often.

For Rebel command, each skirmish was a gamble, each battle a roll of the dice. Rebel intelligence on fuel availability to the Alliance at any given moment was at best sketchy, at worst a ploy. Too many battles had been launched and lost based on inaccurate data on alliance fuel supplies. From an early point, it became a necessity that each engagement be meticulously planned around an ever dwindling fuel supply – especially in Rebel controlled lands. But there was an advantage to the Rebels’ lack of advanced weaponry and heavy armor – a much lower fuel demand. It was estimated that even a small engagement cost the Alliance tens of thousands of gallons of fuel. Rebel forces on the other hand could hang in a fight burning only hundreds. But long term outcomes were assured and it was a topic discussed only at the very top; amongst the inner circle of Rebel commanders. But Sarah knew enough to know that unless this war was won soon – it would inevitably be lost for the simple lack of a gallon of diesel.

But today’s observation, once her mission was complete, would gladly be reported to command. Unless this was yet another ploy, it was a strong indication even the Alliance was being forced to conserve. It would be good news to any in the resistance.

Sarah watched as the electric patrol vehicle turned north as it proceeded along the west fence she had been studying. She could see two soldiers in the small vehicle looking for breaks in the steel mesh of the razor wire as they rode alongside it. Assuming a steady pace, Sarah quickly calculated an estimation of the cycle time of the patrol. She would have at best ten minutes to breach security, reach the target building, extract the prisoner and exit back through the wire fence. Exiting it would be easy. With her prisoner in tow, she knew she would lose her advantage of stealth – so damage done on the way out was perfectly ok by her if not highly anticipated. But just how she was going to manage to get onto the base without raising alarms was still to be resolved.

Sarah’s cheeks expanded outward as she let out a long sigh through her semi closed lips. She had never attempted to penetrate an enemy stronghold without doing considerable damage in the process. Damage was her specialty. She almost felt angry for having to go about things like “a rodent” as she had expressed to her commanding officer during mission briefing. Still, she knew the importance of this mission and she would get a chance to scratch up a few things up on the way out… if, of course, it all went as planned. That knowledge comforted her.

Quickly she collapsed the mags back into their compact carrying case and slid her hood back over her face once again vanishing as if through a tear in the fabric of space. Sarah looked down to the ground beneath the rocky outcrop. “Thirty feet.” she estimated silently as she stepped off and began to fall through the air. She hit the forest floor in relative silence even despite her impressive mass. She remained crouched as she made a quick survey of the surrounding area. From here on, she would have to remain as quiet as possible as she approached the defensive tower. She stood silently as she noted the harder surfaces along the frozen forest floor toward the northeast. She would have to meander from here on; following the natural ridgelines which offered her the best surfaces to tread. To her right she noted a seam of granite protruding through snow covered tree roots and running slightly northward. She would begin there.





Joint Base Archer-Beaker

215th Brigade HQ

NOREASCOMATLFLT

Designation: RASCALS

1015 Hours



“Commander Northwood, Commander Mazor is here to see you.”

Kyle turned away from his window overlooking the airfield and the hangars which housed Mazor’s battle drags. He had been lost in the pattern of chaos created as the tar seams from a multitude of repairs cut across the white cement of the runway; his mind reliving once again his encounter the evening before.

Instinctively he began to stretch his right hand toward the intercom on the edge of his desk before the pain in his shoulder reminded him he was still quite sore despite the fifteen hours of recuperation. His left fingers found the pushbutton instead.

“Of course, always send him in. Thank you, corporal.” He spoke to the young enlisted man in the hallway outside his office.

Kyle turned back toward the window, this time looking out toward the wire fencing on the other side of the airfield. He noted a lone defensive tower nearly seventy yards along the base border. Beyond the fence, a surreal landscape of snow-laden green trees caught his gaze. It was out there somewhere he thought. Just what ‘it’ was however he had no clue. And that merely added to his apprehension. But whatever it was he wanted another shot at it and he intended to get it. Kyle felt his anger building once again.

“Commander Mazor, reporting as ordered, sir.”

“Drop the ‘sir’ shit, alright Mazor?” Kyle turned back toward his desk and waved David further in to his office.

“Yes, sir.” David smiled.

“Wipe that shit grin off your face, smart-ass and sit down. We got work to do. And most importantly you have got some catching up to do.”

“Catching up on what exactly? What’s with you and Dirke and the big hush-hush. You boys have been acting like the sky is falling ever since I got my ass on base.”

“Well to be perfectly honest, it just might be.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well if you shut up long enough for me to tell you, you would know.” Kyle let his anger show in his voice a bit. He clenched his jaws and turned to sit down behind his desk. He needed to regain his composure before David detected it.

“Alright, killer. I’m shutting up.” David spoke slower watching Kyle as he sat down. He didn’t remember the last time Kyle had let his anger get the best of him. Something was up and it was big, that was for sure. Something big enough to make one of the coolest heads around get pissed off was definitely something David wanted in on… bad.

Kyle stared at the recessed visuals in his desk not really looking at anything it displayed.

“I got my ass handed to me last night.” Kyle leaned back in the chair and looked across at David.

“What, by Dirke? What’d he chew you out for this time?”

“No, David, you don’t understand.” Kyle started again, “I got my ass kicked, literally.”

“What?” David outburst in dismay, “No fuckin’ way, I don’t believe that for a second. What the hell are you talking about Kyle?”

“I didn’t hurt my arm masturbating.”

“Well yeah, I figured that much but I just figured it was some stupid training accident you didn’t want to own up to is all. What are you saying exactly? Are you saying someone actually got the best of Kyle Northwood?”

“Well I don’t know about ‘someone’ but yes, ‘something’ took me out… actually ‘it’ broke several ribs, dislocated my shoulder and sent me sleeping for about an hour.”

David stared across at Kyle. As far as he knew, he had been the only one in the world to ever manage to land even a punch on Kyle. Who the hell would have had the speed and strength to do that much damage? David sat silently for another few seconds trying to make sense of what his longtime friend was telling him.

“How could that happen?” David broke the awkward silence. “Is it one of Dirke’s? A new altered or what?”

“No. Dirke would have told me, plus, there’s something else.”

“Well you got me to shut up, that’s for sure.”

“The evidence suggests that we are dealing with a Rebel threat here. Granted it is circumstantial at the moment but that is our best lead so far.”

“The rebels don’t have an augment program.”

“They haven’t for sure. But it appears they may have been able to do just that without anyone knowing about it.”

“Ok, that’s almost impossible to believe in itself, but even so, that doesn’t explain how they managed to take you down.” David stood and walked toward the window gazing westward toward Rebel controlled land. The realization that there was something on the earth that just might be able to harm him man to man was beginning to creep into his understanding. “This doesn’t make any sense. There is no way they have something that is stronger or faster than we are. There is something you aren’t telling me about this. Were you asleep? Were you drunk? There is just no way.” David consciously stopped talking before he lost too much control.

“There is something I haven’t told you yet.”

David spun around to Kyle, “Knew it. There’s no way in hell this could’a happened. What is it? Drugs? You were drugged?”

“Calm down, David. There was nothing like that.” Kyle waved David to sit back down. “You ever hear of AMRL?”

“Yeah, aren’t those the beakers that come up with the drag camo?”

“Advanced Materials Research Laboratories. The drag camo was their first efforts in meta-materials production.”

“First? What else did they do? I don’t remember hearing anything else.” David’s eyes began to look off to his right, “Wait, didn’t the Rebels manage to infiltrate a bomb or something into them? When was that, late last month or so?”

“Yeah, took out the whole complex… or so we thought.”

“Go on.” David looked back at Kyle. What was he getting to?

Kyle reached forward with his left hand and called up the file Dirke had sent over to him after their meeting earlier that morning.

“Take a look at this.” Kyle brought the visuals up to full view for David to see.

“What is it?”

“It’s next gen camo is what it is. And it is near perfect… far superior to the drags’ camo. It is true invisibility – to just about everything.”

“Hold on a sec, you trying to tell me that the terrorists have this beaker tech?”

“Let me say this, if I didn’t know better, I would swear that whatever engaged me was non other than a real life ghost story. I didn’t see it before it was on top of me. It was like I was fighting air… that hit back… hard.”

David stared at the visuals seemingly floating above Kyle’s desk. How could these assholes let the terrorists get their hands on this? David began to lose a bit of the tenuous control he had over his anger. He humphed a bit and walked back to the window to once again stare out toward rebel territory.

“Tell me what your thinking, David.” Kyle could tell David was struggling internally but he wasn’t sure exactly what part of this whole thing was bothering him the most.

“You know what?” David said aloud as he put his hands on his hips, his voice calmer now.

“Talk to me.”

“It doesn’t matter. None of this makes a damn bit of difference.”

“How’s that?”

David lowered his head a bit but maintained his piercing stare across the airfield and deep into rebel land.

“Because nothing’s gonna stop us from tearing every one of those evil traitors limb from limb… and you wanna know why?”

Kyle didn’t speak as David slowly turned back towards the room and walked purposefully toward Kyle’s desk.

“Because we got Right on our side. Those terrorists out there can’t understand order, can’t understand what is and isn’t good for their own selves. See they don’t understand that there are rules in life… and those rules are there to be followed for everyone’s sake and safety. The laws of this land are there for everyone’s protection. It’s not about “freedom” this or “my rights” that – it’s about protecting the citizens of this Union from any threat.” David paced in a small circle around the room, subconsciously making pointed thrusts with his right hand punctuating each word he found important. “And if that means giving up a little bit of convenience for the sake of security for everybody, then so goddamn be it. Who are they to talk about the Constitution this and the Bill o’ Rights that. That’s a goddamn piece of paper for Christ’s sake written more than two hundred years ago. Do they understand that this world is full of crazy religious freaks that will kill you just as soon as look at you? Have they donned a uniform and killed to protect the freedoms we have in this Union? Well have they?”

“I know David.”

“And I’ll tell you another thing, when some asshole out there thinks he can thumb his nose up at our American way of life then he just got on my shit list not to mention God’s. And when you are on God’s shitlist, it doesn’t matter if you have got some beaker’s camo tech that lets you sneak around like some goddamn rodent. I will find you and I will crush you under my boot… and you can write that in your little Bill o’ Rights too – I have the right to be stomped on by Commander Mazor’s boot should I not sit down and shut the fuck up.” David stopped in front of the window once more. His adrenaline pumped muscles beginning to tense up.

Kyle began to chuckle. “Right to be stomped on by Commander Mazor’s boot.” Kyle laughed out loud. “You should have been a Founding Father yourself, Mazor. Maybe you could have gotten that in there for real.”

David turned and looked toward a still chuckling Kyle. Whatever else Kyle represented to David, he had to admit that there was something about him that was able to calm him down even when he was at his grumpiest. David shook his head and looked back out the window, finally cracking a small grin.

“Yeah, laugh it up big shot who got his ass kicked by a terrorist. This is serious.”

“Oh now it’s serious? What about that little ‘It doesn’t matter’ speech you just gave me?”

“Yeah, well everything I said is the God’s honest truth.”

“Alright, Preacher. Why don’t you sit your ass back down and let’s get some real work done here; because unfortunately you are right about one thing in particular.”

David headed back toward his chair, “Yeah, what’s that?”

“I got my ass kicked by a terrorist.”







***



Sarah’s pace toward the base slowed considerably the closer she got. She knew that at this range, even the snapping of a small branch would be detected by the acoustic sensors and be flagged for additional analysis by the automated system. An anomaly would invite more directed scans in her direction and while she knew it could not detect her directly, it would slow the execution of her assault. She also knew that anomalies would be forwarded to human operators in the operations center inviting even further scrutiny.

Sarah could see the fencing fifty yards in front of where she stood motionless at the edge of the tree cover. From there to the fence was a barren fifty yard stretch of dirty, snow covered wet dirt. Sarah noticed a barely perceptible acrid smell in the air. “Cigarettes.” she realized. By the age of the scent, a smoker had been here recently.

And that wasn’t all she gathered as she studied the area. A least one vehicle had passed here recently as well. Its tire tracks could be clearly seen having cut through the fresh snow to eject dark material onto the white powder as it had passed. At least it isn’t dried leaves, she thought to herself but still, there may be ice. The fact base personnel kept the area free of debris in order to maximize visual acuity could actually be working in her favor this time. In fact, she realized, as long as she was careful in her footsteps she could approach the defensive tower much safer from the cleared buffer zone rather than from working her way through the forest cover.

At this range, she knew she could not use her mags to see the defensive tower; she was far too close for that. The system would detect the movement of an unnatural material and shape and quickly categorize it as tech, instantly setting off defensive systems. Although her augmented vision was usually more than sufficient at this range and despite her best efforts, she still could not determine the exact nature of the tower’s defensive armaments buried inside the alcove high up on the tower and that meant she had to get even closer. Sarah took a step out from her cover behind a snow laden bush and onto the cold dirty snow cover. The ground was firm having frozen over again the night before. Maybe this isn’t such a great idea she thought taking another carefully planned step outward. Still, the forest would be even more hazardous with unseen obstacles buried under the frozen snow; some of those obstacles perhaps being loud if one were to step upon them. No, this is the only way and she resolved to stick with her plan. Her instincts were usually correct and she had a tendency to get into analysis paralysis when second guessing herself.

Sarah moved gracefully, scanning and planning several steps ahead. Her combat trained footsteps falling perfectly in position which each stride. Slowly she worked herself quietly toward the tower still nearly a hundred yards away. It would take time to reach it but she would take the opportunity to look for weaknesses along the fence as she moved. She still was unsure just how she would traverse it unnoticed.

Suddenly Sarah heard the faint sound of snow crunching under the weight of a vehicle. She stopped in her tracks as she tried to get a bearing on direction. It was behind her and to the right. Sarah turned her head and immediately locked on to the electric patrol vehicle moving along the south fence just as it had when she had first spotted it ten minutes earlier. Her calculations were dead on and she mentally patted herself on the back. This would be a good opportunity to study the vehicle up close she thought as she watched it approach the southwest corner and begin to turn in her direction. It was moving along quite speedily for a patrol she thought. She turned and looked forward toward the tower. No sign of movement there, the electric vehicle was obviously considered acceptable baseline noise. She wondered if she could somehow use that to her advantage. Something to consider she decided as she turned back toward the quickly approaching vehicle. Her acute vision could easily see the faces of both guards behind the front windshield glass. The passenger held an ember’d white tube in his mouth while the driver, glancing several times in his direction, made several hand gestures. The smoker she had detected from the forest line perhaps; his second in ten minutes she casually surmised. He’d better slow down or he’d reach his monthly quota in a day, she postulated condescendingly. “Idiot.” She imperceptibly shook her head. Here was a smoker fighting on the side representing rationed health care, forced body mass indexes and caps on personal intake of such things as salt, sweets and of course cigarettes. “What an idiot” she repeated in her head.

As the vehicle approached, time began to slow once again for Sarah. She stood motionless as the vehicle passed along the other side of the fence. A dull gray in color and lacking offensive weaponry this was a pure inspection vehicle only. The two guards however were another story. The small caliber rifles secured between the seats were unique and Sarah recognized their distinctiveness immediately. They were armed with RDX class assault rifles. This identification brought an immediate apprehension to Sarah.

While the weapons were less effective against light armor they were featherweights with very long range. Against personnel they were devastatingly destructive. Built from nano-carbon composites giving them an extreme durability and incredible strength they possessed a very high rate of fire. This was courtesy of the ceramic barrel and its extremely high heat dissipating properties. But the real secret to their power lay in their very unique ammunition; a dense depleted uranium core slug jacketed within a carbon based alloy bullet casing. Gun powder had been replaced by state of the art high explosives delivering unparalleled muzzle velocity. Without the advantage of the nano-composite strength, the high powered projectile accelerant would have literally blown the weapon apart upon the first shot. The firepower was revolutionary in offensive technology. The projectile velocity combined with the extreme density of the slug unleashed stopping power never before seen in small arms. The rounds could easily penetrate standard body armor at two hundred yards with enough impact force to lift a two hundred pound soldier cleanly off his feet; not to mention the subsequent hole in him the size of a softball.

Developed in the New European Union in the last decade, they were extremely effective weapons which had seen action extensively in recent energy skirmishes around the world. NEU military had dubbed them standard issue since their initial production release nearly five years ago and the North American Union had finally begun issuing them in the past year. They were far superior to the M- based series inherited from the U.S. military at the birth of the N.A.U. Rebel forces had first encountered this new and far deadlier rifle during a significant assault this past winter. Unaware of what they were up against, many lives had been lost before a retreat could be ordered. Sarah knew she would not be able to withstand a hit from one of them.

Time returning to normal, the vehicle quickly sped from Sarah. The guards had not even interrupted their conversation as they had passed unaware they were being studied as they drove along. Sarah watched the vehicle continue its trek toward the defensive tower. It was safe to move once again and she immediately fell back into her rhythmic approach monitoring the vehicle’s progress away from her as she silently strode forward. But they would have to be dealt with or avoided at some point. She did not want to risk engaging them with the RDX’s at their disposal and on their terms. But first was that damn tower.

Sarah slowed her pace as she covered the remaining twenty yards, staggering her footsteps so as to avoid any rhythm which might be picked up as a faint vibration. Her eyes followed the smooth gray sloping walls of the tower upward. Atop the thirty foot column was a recessed alcove in which would sit both the unmanned turret as well as various sensors and targeting eyes. “Wait…” she paused her upwards scan as her eyes caught on a guiderail twelve feet above her head. The small metal flap acted as a handhold for guiding the tower segments into place during assembly. Someone had failed to remove them. She could only guess it was due to the hurried nature in which the tower had been replaced after her destructive visit weeks earlier. Sarah smiled, “This could work.”

Quickly Sarah searched for additional guiderails higher up along the welded seams. Fate appeared to be smiling upon her today. At three foot intervals the guiderails appeared along the weld seams starting at twelve feet above ground and running the entire length to the thirty foot pinnacle and her target. While small, they may just be large enough to act as a foothold. The trick would be reaching the first one. But if she was able to reach it, this would solve both problems; reaching the alcove and traversing the wire fencing. The risk would be slipping and falling. If she fell and even managed to avoid the razor wire, the noise would most certainly be detected. Perhaps she could evade detection given her camo, but the slightest rip in the material by the razor wire and the game was up… as would be her life.

She stood directly under the first guiderail reaching her hand slowly toward the small metal outcrop. Even with her six foot four height, and her additional three foot reach, the guiderail was still more than three feet from her outstretched hand. She would have to jump for it, another risky action. Should she miss, her re-contact with Terra Firma would assuredly be detected. She had one chance to get this right. She mustn’t fail.

Sarah scanned to her right through the fence, across the airfield to the hangars two hundred yards away from her. The two guards she had noted were still in their positions, unmoved.  She looked back south along the fence to where she had first stepped out from the snow covered bush and began her silent approach to the tower. By her mental count, she still had seven minutes before the electric vehicle made its approach from the south once again; plenty of time if she could pull this off.

Her eyes turned back toward the base of the tower in front of her, scanning for any last minute detail which might be used to ease her task. But no more guiderails were to be found. The first segment appeared to be a solid, heavily armored base twelve feet high to where it met the second segment and the first of the guiderails. Apparently fate wasn’t smiling quite that much. “Ok, fine, we’ll do it your way.” Sarah mentally sent a message to the universe.

Sarah crouched halfway down, her thigh muscles easily supporting her weight. Looking up directly at what would soon become her personal platform, the guiderail began to look awfully small. She closed her eyes. Mentally her eidetic memory allowed her to plot her trajectory in perfect clarity. She would need the perfect amount of force from her immensely powerful legs to place her within eye level of the guiderail. Sarah took a slow breath inward and let it escape her even slower. “Now.” She thought and her muscles launched her from her crouching position.





***



“Mind if I help myself?” David asked Kyle as he stood from his chair and walked toward the bar behind him.

“Not at all.” Kyle knew David could probably use a belt even at this hour of the morning. He had just laid down a shitload on him including every detail of his encounter last night with the now Union enemy number one.

“So what now? You got a plan or something?” David asked as he grabbed a crystal glass from the wood grained counter top.

“Seek and destroy. But we have got to find it first and that’s not going to be an easy task. That’s part two of why I wanted you up here this morning. Got any ideas?”

David picked up the best looking bottle of whiskey he could find on the shelf. “This shit the best you got?”

“Oh, yeah, that reminds me. Dirke has got a little surprise for you – courtesy of Major General Baques.”

“Yeah? Well why don’t we go down there right now and let him surprise me.”

“Wish we could but Dirke’s been on the line with Gentech all morning. I think you are going to have to make do with that shit in your hands.”

“Figures.” David sighed a bit and poured himself a generous double. “Well I’ll be sure to catch up with him later then you can bet on that. If this has anything to do with that hurt we pulled Baques out of a couple months back, it better be one hell of a special surprise.”

David set the bottle down and with glass in hand turned back toward Kyle still seated behind his desk. “About our rodent problem, rodents do love their cheese.”

“Bait?” Kyle was intrigued.

“Gonna have to be something big enough to lure it out of hiding though.”

Kyle leaned back in his chair as he turned toward the window. “Hmm… interesting idea. It would have to be something they want badly enough… but at the same time impossible enough that they have only one choice on whom to send in to retrieve it; a task that only the suit could get accomplished. We can only hope that our gifted new friend is the one wearing it.”

“So what do we got that those fags want? Fuel? Weapons?”

From his leaned back position, Kyle gazed toward the now blue sky peeking out from behind gray clouds as the high altitude fog continued to burn off.

David began chuckling.

“What do you got?” Kyle turned to look at David throwing back the last quarter of his whiskey.

David smiled and set his glass down on Kyle’s desk. “Dirke.”

“Dirke?”

“Yeah, Dirke.” Continuing to grin, David locked his hands behind his head.

“Dirke…” David might just have something here, Kyle thought to himself.

“Vestrum noscite hostem. Know thy enemy.”

“Didn’t know you were a Latin scholar, David”

“I know my enemy, Kyle. The rebels have been gunning for Gentech for decades. They lay blame for most of this shit squarely on their shoulders and if they thought some corporate big shot, say someone like Dirke, were, I don’t know, be made somehow ‘available’ to be swiped, I’d be a betting man they would jump at the chance. To be honest, I’m a little surprised they haven’t already. After all he’s been on the base for a year now. Why do you suppose they haven’t?”

“Why do you suppose they have not?”

David looked puzzled for a moment before catching Kyle’s meaning. “They’ve tried? When?”

“We’ve kept it under wraps but Gentech intelligence has issued Dirke imminent warnings twice in the past year.”

“So have they actually tried to snag him or is that just spook gossip?”

“We believe they attempted a breach three months ago. His motorcade was assaulted ten miles outside of base perimeter. Obviously the assault was not successful but ever since then he’s been on base nearly around the clock. The company even set him up a nice condo space under our very feet.”

“Oh so he’s gone underground has he?”

“Sleeping only I believe. To be honest I rarely seem him outside his office.” Kyle paused running through David’s idea in his head. “You know you might have just saved me a shitload of fuel searching out this ghost.”

“Does that buy me another round?” David asked lifting up his now empty glass.

“Mi casa su casa…”

David turned toward Kyle with a questioning look.

“I didn’t study Latin.” Kyle remarked.





***



Sarah opened her eyes and watched as the dull gray metal skin of the tower slid slowly downward; the embedded rivets flowing smoothly along reminding her of her encounter with the battle drag early that morning. She lifted her head; her eyes following the smooth metal upward toward the approaching guiderail. Instinctively her arms rose toward it, preparing to secure her grip and ultimately herself to the small metal platform. She watched as its progress began to slow as her momentum began to lose its battle against gravity. But it would be enough, in fact, it would be perfect. She had executed the leap with machine precision, bringing the guiderail level with her eyes. Sarah reached forward and made contact with both hands as it began to reverse its direction back skyward. She gripped the guiderail tightly pulling her body toward the cold metal of the base segment. She slowed her descent back to earth, nearly effortlessly, until she felt the movement of the metal plate against her stomach slow to a stop. She waited for her mind to exit hyper thought once again. She had a firm grip on the guiderail, her body securely prone against the tower. Her attempt had been successful. The next tasks were simplistic, not any harder than scaling a cliff face freehand.

Sarah turned to her right, taking in the view of the airfield from a perspective twelve feet higher than her last look yet the wire fencing still obscured her vision. Her mind was quickly returning to normal as she felt a slight wind pierce her hooded veil. She looked down toward the ground at the dirty track engraved snow she had just left. It seemed far higher up here for some reason. She let herself smile and let out a breath of relief. It had been a perfect release of engineered power.

She looked above her at the next guiderail three feet above. She should be able to reach it with one arm and pull herself up. She could hear a faint hum filtering through the metal plating pressed up against her. She wondered on its source as she stretched her right arm up toward the second handhold. “Perfect.” She thought as her hand made contact and she was able to slip her fingers over the tip of the metal edge gaining enough ground to secure her grip for the pull upwards. As she pulled with her right arm, she pushed down with her left easily lifting her weight upward and with a quick switch she traded her bottom handhold for a foothold. Extending her leg she now stood on the bottom guiderail, while holding the second guiderail at her waist firmly with both hands. Standing on the small metal platform, Sarah was now over eighteen feet in the air, over halfway to the alcove. She looked above her seeing the guiderails stretch along the tower like a ladder made just for her. She reached upwards once again to repeat her previous steps. At this rate she would reach the alcove minutes ahead of the electric vehicle’s return.

Within two minutes Sarah was standing at the top of the tower. The alcove was to her left just around the bend of the top metal segment. But the leading edge of the alcove was within her reach and would be able to act as a support for her as she attempted to peer inside. After another quick glance toward the base, she turned toward the alcove opening stretching her left hand toward it. She wished she could just use a mirror to look inside but that would be stupid. The mirror would be noticed for certain. No, this she had to do in the suit. She would have to put her herself face to face with the turret barrel itself in order to get a good look inside.

Sarah grasped the edge of the alcove opening with her left hand as she stretched her left leg toward it attempting to establish a foothold. It was a stretch but she would be able to make it she realized. With her weight shifting onto her left side, Sarah released her right hand from the guiderail which has held her in place to that point. Pulling with her left arm, she slid her body along the metal until her entire weight was now on her left foot and her left arm wrapped around the inside of the metal opening of the alcove. She barely breathed. At this range, she knew that any noise would be heard. She had been careful to move slowly as she shifted herself toward the alcove. The slick nature of the suit materials helped glide her silently along the cold gray skin of the tower. She had finally reached her target. But now was not the time to rejoice.

A mental alarm went off in her mind as she realized that the ten minutes was up since she last saw the patrol vehicle. Not daring to move, Sarah closed her eyes and strained to hear its now familiar sound coming from behind her as it plodded along the southern fence line. She listened intently for several seconds hearing nothing. She began to wonder if there had been a duty change which might have delayed its return.

Then she heard it, very faint at first, but it was there. She decided it was better to stay put and motionless until it passed again. While she knew she was completely invisible pressed up against the tower column, if something went wrong she didn’t need to have armed guards around at the time. The tower’s defensive mechanisms would be far enough for her to deal with without adding two RDX armed guards in the mix.

So Sarah listened, eyes still closed, as the electric vehicle made its monotonous passage along the fence line. It would only take a couple of minutes for the vehicle to pass by, at which point she could resume her task at hand. The hum of the electric motors grew increasingly loud as the vehicle approached the tower base. But something wasn’t right she realized. The sound was changing. Subconsciously her brow furled as she focused on the now obvious change in pitch as the vehicle approached beneath her. Yes, it was winding down… they were stopping.

The sound ceased completely as she heard the squeak of brakes bring the vehicle to a complete stop. Had she triggered something? Had the machines picked up on a noise she had overlooked? Sarah opened her eyes and tilted her head downward in an attempt to see what was happening. Her eyes confirmed what her ears had told her. The guards were now exiting the vehicle, RDX rifles in hand. Neither were speaking, a bad sign she thought to herself. She watched as they approached the rear of the tower, the side that was on the other side of the fence. The fence met the tower about one third of the way around it so that a good portion of the tower was open to the airfield and the base. She surmised that an access hatch would be there although she could not see that area from her vantage points up to that point. “What else would they be doing if not accessing a hatch of some sort?” she wondered.

Sarah didn’t move as the guards disappeared from her view. But her ears heard the seemingly loud clank as the guards threw open a lever and swung open what could only be a hatchway door. “Wait, why wasn’t the system responding to the noise?” Sarah tilted her head back toward the edge of the alcove she clung to. She could not quite see inside yet but she could make out the far edge of the opening. If the defense mechanisms had been triggered she would know it by now which meant only one thing. It was either temporarily disabled or the tower, in fact was not operational yet despite all appearances.

Sarah decided to risk a look. Still apprehensive, she slowly shifted herself to the left until she had enough clearance to peek her head into the opening. “You have got to be kidding me!” Sarah whispered. She stared into the alcove and at an empty turret base. The tower was not complete. The defensive weaponry and sensor mounts supported only air. “It’s not online…” Sarah half chuckled as she slightly shook her head thinking back on her painstakingly silent approach along the fence line below. “Well I guess that’s good news.” Sarah realized that is why the guiderails had not been removed. The top segments of the tower would need to be lifted once again when the turret was ready to be lowered into place. It was a beast of monster, weighing in at more than four tons and was typically lowered in to place by crane. Fate was surely smiling upon her this day. She rejoiced in her continued good fortune.

Sarah looked at the rear of the tower and noticed a small opening in the back. It was a technician access point, most likely connected via a ladder of some type to the hatchway opening below. Sarah hoped that the security panels which normally locked hatchway doors of this type was also non operational. If it were, she just found her way in to the base… and maybe out of it as well. Her captive would be a liability fully visible to everyone as she drug him across two hundred yards of open air vehicle runway. But if she could reach the tower, it may provide some cover if things got hot or if she needed to disappear for a few minutes.

Sarah heard voices floating up through the opening from below. That would be the guards she concluded. She still didn’t know what they were doing or how long they planned on sticking around. “Damnit.” She thought as she heard the sound of combat boot on the metal ladder leading up to the opening she was looking at. They were coming up. “Great.”

Sarah looked around the alcove. While it could easily fit three men inside it, especially with no behemoth turret in the center, it also provided no obvious place for Sarah to stash herself behind. She pulled her head away from the alcove and looked back at the guiderail from which she had just come. There may be time to re-position herself along the outside she thought. But it would be risky. She had but seconds before the guards would appear in the alcove and it would require a rushed exit. Rushed exits lead to mistakes she reminded herself as she looked down at the top of the razor wire beneath the guiderails. She would have to stick it here but she couldn’t remain in her precarious balancing act forever and she had no idea how long they intended to remain.

Sarah made a split second decision and pushed herself fully into the vacant alcove. The center turret base sported protruding carriage bolts from the metal base providing the seating for the upcoming turret itself. Her head spun toward the rear access opening as she heard a metal clank just beneath the entrance. Sarah looked frantically around the small space. “Nothing.” She screamed in her head. “Time to see just how good this thing really is up close and personal.” Sarah stepped back along the curved wall which she had clung to on the other side a moment before. She pressed her body snugly up against it as her right hand moved to the small of her back and under a fold in her suit, coming to rest on the handle of her battle blade neatly tucked upside down along her spine. She took a deep breath as her eyes locked on the opening to her right.