CHAPTER 6
Planet Sonja, Code LV-117
Location: 30 miles northwest of the Ark
The APC flew high above the thick fog, swaying slightly in the wind before adjusting. The sun had come out over the orange-tinted clouds that lingered from the morning rain. Inside the APC Rainer stood, his arm clasped tight to an over-hanging leather cargo strap, his other resting on his pulse rifle; the Knights did the same.
The inside of the cargo hold was spacious, large enough to carry a transport vehicle. Currently it stood empty. Rattling against the metal walls were the steel tow cables normally used to hold vehicles in place. To the left, a side door that slid open for small troop deployment; to the right, an empty gun rack and bench. The smell of motor oil filled the interior.
Dotson leaned back in her pilots' chair and shouted down the stairs to the cargo hold. "ETA five minutes!"
Rainer looked around at his men one last time, the polarized lenses staring back. He truly hoped the four of them were up to the task. They'd proven themselves time and again, but McKay had never personally invited Rainer to his office to give a mission. It just seemed way too simple, especially to warrant a trip to the Spire.
"Alright boys, looks like we have ourselves a snatch-and-grab mission. A few lost Outsiders have crash-landed their commercial freighter into Old Aden. We're being sent in to pick them up. Krigs and Mason, I want you taking point when we touchdown. Blare, hold up the rear."
"We expecting any trouble from the bugs?" Blare asked, trying desperately to keep his balance in the midst of all the shuddering.
"Intel hasn't picked up any human activity in Aden for the past three months. I wouldn't expect to see any. Chances are they've packed up and moved on. Still, I want you on your toes."
Mason looked slightly uncomfortable, even through the thick layers of armor. "Sir, what makes these people so special?"
"Does it matter, private?" Rainer said quickly, irritated with the question. It wasn't that Rainer didn't have his own doubts; he had plenty of them, but for now he was focused on bringing him and his Knights back safely. The last thing he needed was the new guy shaking things up.
"No, sir."
"Good. Krigs, you got that motion detector working properly yet?"
"Had it fixed before we left."
"Alright, check your weapons one last time before we hit dirt." Rainer fought his way toward the front of the cargo bay, struggling to stay afoot. He reached the base of the stairs leading to the cockpit and looked up.
"Hey beautiful," Rainer yelled over the engines. "Mind doing a fly-by before touching down? I wanna take a look at things. Unless that's a problem?"
Dotson smiled. "For you, hun, anything." Even geared up in a pilot's jumpsuit, Dotson was still an reasonably attractive woman. He could see her grin back over her shoulder; Rainer felt a passing hope that maybe after the mission…
Smiling, Rainer made his way to one of the small port windows and peered out. Through the glass he could see Aden off in the distance. Sticking out of the thick fog were the tall vague figures of buildings that looked more like ghostly skeletons, their steel beams exposed.
The APC went over the ruined city and circled. Looking down Rainer saw all that remained of the once-thriving metropolis. Debris was steeped through the dirt covered backdrop. Cars lined the empty streets, their windows shattered. Buildings seemed held together by shear will, some reduced to a single wall. Dark mud cover everything in a thick layer of obscurity. The place looked like hell.
"Lieutenant," came Dotson's soft voice. "I have visual of the vessel. No place to land. I'm going to have to put her down about two clicks south of the target."
"Do it."
The APC whined, its thrusters turning downward while it made its decent. Dust swirled about, rocks clanked off the exterior of the ship. The landing gear gave under the mud, then settled in. The side door slid open. Rainer was the first one out with Krigs, Mason and Blare lined up neatly behind him. Their feet sank deep into the mud. They found themselves staring down an abandoned street that stretched about one hundred meters. To the left was an old bank, or what remained of it. Most of it blown away by explosives. Bullet holes ran across its walls. Further down was an industrial plant, the roof caving inward. Sunlight streamed through and etched out shadows. The place looked like a ghost town.
Krigs and Mason took point, their smart guns held at the hip. Blare covered the rear, pulse rifle scanning back an forth. Professional to the last. Rainer felt proud to be out in the field with this team.
Rainer heard a crackle of radio static in his mic, then Dotson's voice. "Clear! Call me when you need dust off. I'll keep a lookout from above."
The APC rumbled to life and lifted off the ground, its engines roaring above them. They held their ground as the vehicle faded off into the distance.
"Where we heading, Krigs?" Blare asked.
Krigs glanced down at his motion tracker, then up again toward the bank. He pointed in its direction.
Moving toward the reputed destination, they weaved their way through the debris. Once on the other side, they stepped out into a large clearing. Wooden benches leaned against splintered trees, their branches devoid of any foliage. A children's playground stretched in the middle of a few small hills. Swings swayed slightly in the breeze, slides looked half melted from acid. Further away were more low lying, broken buildings; one appeared to be a school.
"Looks like a park." Mason said.
"Yeah, looks that way." Blare responded.
They made their way, traversing the abandoned playground slowly and methodically, checking in every direction; expecting the unexpected. Rainer tried to make sense of his surroundings. Holes in walls from grenade blasts, shotgun shells strewn about, burn marks deep into concrete structures. A child's gymnasium was twisted into a hellish looking piece of abstract art. Must have been one hell of a fight.
They came to the back entrance of the school, their metal boots scratching the concrete slab that had once served as a sidewalk. Its glass doors were shattered; fragments still clung to its broken frame. Beyond the framework, stretched a long hallway covered in dust and debris; beyond that, darkness.
Krigs approached and put his back to the wall. He covered them as they entered single file. Rainer stepped through, taking point, his feet crushing shards of broken glass. He flipped on his night vision, casting the dark environment into shades of green. He didn't have to look to know the rest were following suit, the hallway echoed back their dulled footsteps.
Halfway down they found dried blood smeared across the tiled walls, ending in a single handprint. Doors were ajar, their locks broken. Desks and chairs laid strewn about in classrooms. One room looked as though someone had tried to barricade themselves inside with a heavy table. It hadn't held.
Krigs stopped and stared down at his motion tracker. "Sir, I have motion, outside. It's coming from the crash site, bout fifty meters north."
"You sure?"
"I'm positive."
"Radio silence. I want only hand signals, understood?"
Rainer's team gave him the thumbs up.
Rainer made his way down the remaining corridor, reaching the front door of the school. He held his pulse rifle at ready, knelt and stared out through broken glass. In the middle of an eight-lane street was the downed ship. Nearly a quarter of its rusted hull was buried under mud and rock. There didn't appear to be any activity. He signaled for the rest of his team to move up. They came around him and took a knee.
Rainer quickly gave out orders with hand signals. He wasn't sure who or what these people were and didn't know their capabilities. For all he knew they could have been listening in on their conversations from the time they landed. He didn't think it was likely, but you couldn't be too sure.
Rainer's team acknowledged their orders and moved out. Rainer looked into Mason's visor, searching for his hidden eyes. "You gonna be able to handle that?"
The greenhorn nodded. He stayed hidden to make sure no one came up from behind; Blare, Rainer and Krigs stepped out into the street.
Rainer waved his gun slowly back and forth, scanning the area for possible targets. Krigs and Blare walked in front of him, cautiously making their way toward the ship. Rainer's senses were on high alert, he could hear everything. The wind whistling through the tall buildings, the sound of boots digging into the mud, the slight rattle of equipment against body armor.
Krigs stopped and raised a hand, then slowly pointed toward the craft. They were now no more than ten meters away. Rainer could see a drawing of woman lying out on a missile. She was wearing nothing but a skimpy red dress, the rest obscured by mud. Two large deep holes were visible near the nose of the ship.
Bullet holes? What are bullet holes doing there? I thought McKay said it crashed?—He didn't say anything about it being shot down.
Blare stepped close to the ship. The hatch had been blown open. Someone had come out after the vessel touched down. He extended a hand resting it on the outer hull, then peered inside. Rainer held his weapon ready for anyone to come leaping out.
Blare leaned back waving his hand, signaling he was going to enter. Stepping out of the mud, he disappeared into the ship. Krigs took a knee and leaned in to take a look.
A minute went by, then another and another. Something was wrong, Rainer could feel it. He'd been on plenty of missions with Blare to know it didn't take the man that long to clear a vessel of this size.
Rainer looked toward Krigs and signaled him to go inside. Just as he was about to act upon it, they heard muffled hollering. Somebody was barking orders, demanding that they put their weapon down. Krigs charged in, Rainer right behind him. His heart was racing, something had gone wrong and he was about to lose one of his men. Unacceptable. He knew this Op wasn't going to be simple.