Chapter XIII
The impact happened swiftly, and I realized, belatedly, that I was still standing, and the intruder had fallen. The shot was suppressed, of course, though I didn't recall threading the suppressor on my weapon. I dragged him into the office, frantically trying to conceal him before the next squad arrived. I patted him down fast, and discovered (and removed) his security clearance card, his Beryl, and some extra ammunition for that and his sidearm. Then I stuffed the body underneath the desk in the room, and then locked the door behind me as I left the room.
The nearest elevator up was down the hall to my left, so I made my way towards it. The ship's hallways were darkened, except for an emergency light that threw off very little light every twenty meters or so. I dropped to a crouch and scanned for security cameras. None were present that I could see, but the adrenaline surging through my veins and the sweat blurring my vision made for difficult visual verification. The sides of the walls were my friends; I ducked into doorways and away from the middle of the floor as much as I could. I used to walk down those corridors often enough as an RDF officer, and it never took me that long, but trying to outwit your own MP division is another thing, and crawling was never something I'd ever done for fun.
I paused before swiping the stolen clearance card through the lift's reader. The ship was unusually deserted, after having been attacked by twin intruders. I rethought my plan of attack, retraced my steps, and stole my victim's tunic and helmet, then disabled the security cameras for the five floors above and below my position. Suitably adjusted for the current conditions, I went back to the elevator and finally swiped the stolen clearance card. The doors opened, and I stepped inside. Let's see, where to head first?
I settled on sickbay first, because of it's potential for use as an interrogation center. The ride was swift, but not fast enough, for my failings, for the first time in a long time, began to eat at me. I should have had better control of my temper; I shouldn't have let Flynn get under my skin! Lisa's injured, captured, probably tortured, all because of me!
I had to save her, I knew…to do any less would be dishonorable. But how did I stand a chance to pull it off? Rusty was right; I was flying by the seat of my pants. The adrenaline surge had worn off, and the exhaustion was setting in again. I rubbed my eyes and contemplated looking for a nice, quiet place to sleep. But sleep was beyond me at that point. I couldn't hide, the rebels would know where I was and kill me. I had to get everyone out safely.
The elevator doors opened up, and I strode again towards sickbay. I peered in through the window, and saw her. Lisa was hooked up to an IV bag, and was in obvious pain. She had been restrained to the gurney, and there were bandages around her abdomen, her forearms, and her head. All decorum, officer to officer, departed me as I raced into the room.
I put my hand on her forehead. "Lisa, are you okay?"
Her paroxysm of pain shook me to the core, and I felt a pain in my heart as she rasped her reply. "Rick, is that you?"
"I'm here, Lisa, I promised I would come for you."
"I thought you would never get here," she smiled unsteadily.
"I would never leave you," I said, through tears of pure joy.
"Took ya long enough," she coughed. "What happened?"
"Oh, well, you know the drill…had to plan the rescue, get it approved, file the appropriate paperwork, ad nauseum," I said gently.
"Typical. Paperwork was never your strong suit," she grinned. "Well, now that you're here, and I'm awake, let's get out of here."
I hurriedly undid the restraints holding her to the bed, and I looked at her. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Never better," she lied. "The drip was only sodium pentothol, and they didn't get anything out of me. They beat me, dripped me, and played Minmei songs all the time, but I didn't betray you or anyone."
I left the bandages on, as she still had some healing to do, and helped her to her feet. Her head wound wasn't bad at all, so I removed her bandage there. A deep scab flowed from the center of her forehead towards her right ear, indicating the impact of a very sharp object. She hid it with her bangs as I looked at her with some concern. "Really, I'm okay."
She scrounged up the flight suit she'd worn when they dragged her in there, and proceeded to change into it from her hospital gown. Her slender body was only slightly battered, and I was entranced with the simple elegance she used, however unconsciously, to disrobe and dress again. Even in the horrors of war, with the most pressing of situations bearing down on us, I managed to find the simplicity of her beauty as a most necessary tonic against the job ahead.
"Peeping tom," she giggled.
"No, I'm Rick. Who's this Tom guy," I smirked.
"Funny guy. What's the plan?"
"Find the plague, rescue the others, and get the hell out of here, so we can launch the final assault."
"Nice plan. Won't survive contact with the MP's, but it's a nice plan, anyway."
I kissed her passionately, trying to calm her fears. "We go with what we've got, right?"
"Very true. The plague should be in the main medlab. How should we deal with it?"
"There's an armory down the hall, correct?"
"That's right, but what…?"
"Grab some WP grenades, mine seem to be missing."
She ran out and brought back a bundle. I'd never had to use a white phosphorous before, but the fact it combusted in air would help us. Hopefully, that would be enough to destroy the plague. Two of them going off at the same time; that'll blow our chance at stealth, but a battle fortress at General Quarters isn't really a secretive place, anyway.
"On three," I said. Lisa aimed her launcher, and I did, as well. "Three!"
Twin globs of white phosphorous flashed into the main medical laboratory. Once the flames were burning, and the alarms sounded, Lisa and I took to our heels trying to hit the elevator. The MP's came around suddenly, however, and a few shots were heard thudding into the walls around us.
Lisa grabbed my FMG and started firing as she spun around, with rounds flying everywhere. I brought the Beryl rifle to bear, trying to cook a few geese before our own were cooked. Lisa took aim with a second burst as I let fly with my first. Three rounds apiece, and all six found human homes. My burst took the lead guard out with twin rounds to the abdomen and one to the heart. Lisa's shooting was linear; one to the abdomen, one to the heart, and one to the head.
"Connect the dots, darling," I quipped.
"Okay, so I need a little more practice," she smirked. "Have patience."
"Well, you'll get all the practice you want, cuz here they come again."
Another two guards came at us, firing full-auto with their Beryl rifles. We fired back, again; Lisa got the hang of it. She gripped the fore end of the gun and steadied herself, like firing an Uzi instead of an M-16.
The first guard in the second group took two rounds to the stomach and one to the chest; he was down, no question. Lisa's target took two rounds to the lungs and one to the heart. I noted not to ever piss her off, if she can shoot like that. We grabbed at each other's hands and hauled ass towards the elevator.
The door shut just as another stream of bullets were heading our way. "What was that line I made, about our wedding day," I gasped.
"The day isn't over," she replied, grimly. "And remember, I told you that, come what may, even if it's only you and I, I'll help you fight this war, and I will never leave you, even if you ordered me to."
"Nice to know I'm appreciated," I replied, leaning in for a kiss.
"From now until the end of time," she whispered, accepting my lips on hers. We kissed for what seemed like an eternity, yet that was not long enough. The doors opened swiftly, and we dropped out of our rushed passion into low crouches, scurrying towards the darkest reaches of the hangar. The cell complex was nothing more than a simple stockade; sheets of triple-folded compressed steel locked together. There were also three guards on duty, each armed with Beryl rifles and MOG's. I looked at Lisa; her emerald eyes shone with a dedication rarely seen before; I hadn't seen a look like that since before the Line. I popped a netting round in my MOG and took careful aim at the three guards; maybe stealth would work in our favor this time…
AN: The mojo is flowing again, like molasses in January. BTW, I made a mixed audio file containing Lancer's version of "We Will Win" and some other voices (Non-Robotech) in a tribute to 9-11 a while back. Email me for info, and, perhaps, a copy, if you like. And, a few chapters back, I referenced a Swedish compass. For those not in on the joke, a Swedish compass is a snuffbox with a mirror in it. It will never show you where you're going or where you've been, it'll only show you who's lost. (old Swedish joke, there). Review and critique, as always.