Location: The Lake Provinces, close to Rosebush City
Sol: 17
Nicodemus, Justin, Brutus, Mr Ages and Elizabeth stood around the repaired Scout, watching Josh working through his pre-flight check. They had made an early start the previous day and returned to the lake at the crack of dawn before anyone else was about, for Josh to begin the repairs on the pod. After a long day of hard work, Scout Alpha, her cockpit illuminated and buzzing with the humming noises of running flight instruments, was ready to take to the skies once again! The moment for embarking on the rescue mission to find Elizabeth's children had finally arrived.
Josh, once again in full space gear, sat in the pilot's seat, still moist from the plunge in the lake, his full concentration on the pilot's console, as he checked and set all key systems. By manually overriding the fuel cell shut-offs, which had been tripped in the storm, he'd managed to restore power to the generators and could now start working on the guidance system and avionics.
To his amazement, he discovered most of the instruments had fared remarkably well, protected by their multiple layers of waterproof insulation, much better than he'd expected. However, there was still some damage. All of the flight data in the memory bank had been erased from when the system had sustained a power surge going through the storm, in addition to several fried microchips and circuits. But otherwise, the flight computer was still operational, god enough for an atmospheric flight. Likewise, the hydraulics and flight controls checked out fine.
Although the hull integrity checked out fine, the heat shield, which had been subjected to the inferno of re-entry, was still questionable, especially if it came to any further space flights. But who cared about that, since he wasn't returning to space?
With his flight computer properly reprogrammed with a new flight plan, Josh started setting up communications. While planning the rescue yesterday, which would involve sending him up there solo, to compensate for the pod's limited passenger capacity, with the Rats guiding him along via radio, the problem of communication had come up.
The pod had a state-of-the-art communications system, including a radio. The primary communications array had been fried from a surge while going through the electromagnetic storm; however Josh was able to reroute the comms through the secondary system, restoring communications. Then, he'd realised the real problem – they only had one radio, when they needed two. Without it, he would have no guidance and no way to report his situation. However, the problem had soon been resolved.
On Josh's lap was the emergency transmitter from his survival kit, which he had prepared the night before. Designed to relay communications from the astronaut's suit radio to the mothership or the pods, it would now serve a very similar purpose. Using a tacomm unit cannibalised from the old spacesuit in Nicodemus' collection, some duct-tape, a battery from a flashlight, and some experimenting to patch it in to the pod's frequency, he'd set up a two-way communication – the latter of which could also be extended via his suit's radio while he was on the ground, keeping them in contact at all times.
Making sure both radios were properly synchronised, he passed the device down to Justin, "All right, all set. Now, remember, I've set it on VOX mode, so you'll be able to hear my voice as if I'm standing right next to you. Since we have no video feed, I'll relay to you descriptively everything I see as I go along. Make sure you keep tracking my location on the map – if the radio dies, this way, you'll still have a general idea where I'm headed."
"Right. And I'll have the garrison on full alert and ready to go on a moment's notice," said Justin, reciting the backup plan they'd worked out, "If we lose contact and don't hear from you again within three days, I'll send troops up there after you, by following your trail. They'll meet you at your last known location."
Brutus passed Josh his new weapons: a powerful crossbow, complete with a snakeskin holster full of arrows, and a razor-sharp sword – the most sophisticated weapons the Rats had in their arsenal, to go alongside Josh's Taser and whatever else he could improvise along the way. In addition, he carried his trusty survival kit, containing the rest of his precious gadgets, including the fresh supply of penicillin for Timmy.
"Good luck, Josh!"
"I still don't understand why you refuse to let Justin and I accompany you," grumbled Brutus, not missing the opportunity to point out a flaw, "Where you're going, my friend, there's bound to be a whole army of some of the most bloodthirsty scumbags you can imagine. Even with your little trickery, you want accomplish much, other than get chopped to pieces..."
"We can't take any chances," said Josh, reminding the burly Rat that they were dealing with a hostage situation, which required careful handling, including not to risk provoking the enemy's wrath towards the children by having a whole army show up at their hideout, "This mission is not about bringing those scum to justice; the idea is to find that hideout, get the children out, and then make a quick getaway before those bums knew what was happening. Besides, we'll be crammed tight enough in here as it is coming back – the last thing I need is to be forced to leave somebody behind. And if the Exiles have the Jeremy up there, I'll see what I can do with it."
While going over their plan yesterday, the problem of seating had also been brought up. The pod was a one-man vehicle, not designed to accommodate any additional passengers. As part of his plan, Josh was hoping to retrieve their glider, which the Exiles had stolen back at Thorn Valley, and use it to get the children down from the mountain, using his pod to tow it along. If that failed, he would just have to try cramming the children onto his lap instead.
He was good to go. Elizabeth approached the side of the pod and took Josh's hand, "Please be careful, Josh. Promise me you'll bring my children and yourself back safely." Josh gently squeezed her hand in reassurance.
"Don't you worry, love," he whispered to her, "Everything will be fine. You just have faith in me." He wanted so much to reach down and kiss her, but there was simply no time to waste. Kissing her hand goodbye, he called out, "All right, everyone get clear. Starting up!"
As he strapped himself in, he realised Elizabeth had passed him something; resting in the palm of his hand was a strip of red wool torn from her cape. Smiling, he tied it around his wrist like a bracelet, to serve as a talisman for his journey. Now time for the hard part…
Sealing the hatch shut, he punched in the ignition sequence. The graph on his screen showed the fuel cells in the green and on-line, sending juice to the engines. The ion-boosters meant for space flight remained shut down; all he needed were the atmospheric jets, which produced thrust equivalent of up to six times the speed of sound – faster than even the best fighter jets back on Earth -, which would make him master of the skies once again - assuming, of course, he could get them started. If they were a no go, then there was no mission.
Making sure everything was green across the board, he punched in the final sequence; the jets whirred, almost as if in protest, and then died again. Although they had dried out the pod best they could, some water was obviously still chocking up the jet intakes, keeping them from firing. The next couple of tries only yielded similarly disappointing results.
All right, recycle fuel cells and increase intake suction... Finally, on the fifth try, the jets whirred wildly before settling in a steady rhythm, expelling gusts of red-hot air from their outlets, as they spat out the last few traces of condensation from their guts.
Josh felt his heart race as his pod came back to life, ready to take flight once again. Finally, he had his wings back! Although the pod couldn't get him back to Earth, this last functioning remnant of his ship, with its groundbreaking technology, opened up the skies of Nimh-Beta to him – and the ability to prove his worth to the Rats. Now, he finally had a real purpose. Staring through his windshield, he saw his friends cheering at his success, wishing him luck. Giving them the thumbs-up, he prepared for lift-off.
Trimming the jet-tubes vertically, he punched in full thrust, causing the pod to start lifting like some weird, rotorless helicopter. On the ground, the Rats stared in utter amazement as the stone-heavy pod 'magically' floated off the ground – a phenomenon they couldn't imagine possible in real life, not even in their wildest dreams. They waved up at Josh, who waved back, secretly wondering whether he'd ever see them again – see Elizabeth again.
Hovering above the ground, he fired up the primary jets; the pod shot off towards the horizon at full speed, tearing through the sky like a firing ballistic missile, the jets running off the power generated by the atomic fuel cells, the computer automatically making attitude adjustments every few seconds, keeping her level and on course. As long as the fuel cells held out, she could travel thousands of miles, easily circumnavigate this globe several times over, maybe even take him on a journey to the neighbouring Nimh-Alpha gas giant... Finally, he was back in control – like Nicodemus, who was king down on the ground, he too was now king in his own rights up here in the air.
Consulting the flight chart on his nav screen, he plotted a steady northern course towards the Dark Mountains. Typing in several commands, the computer automatically took over, following a designated flight path towards the infamous mountain range. The first ever aerial search-and-rescue mission on Nimh-Beta was underway.
Now that he was flying a proper ship again, rather than a primitive glider, Josh was able to get a better look at this stretch of green pastures the Rats called their homeland. With Rosebush City situated right in the centre of it, at the foot of the volcano, the green forestlands beyond stretched for several miles in all directions, with scattered lakes dotting the surrounding countryside. The water seemed to come from deep subterranean wells, forced up to the surface through thermal vents created by the volcano's heat.
Aside from Rosebush City, Josh could also make out scattered villages and farms, not unlike Elizabeth's; he could also see the locals, tiny as ants from up here, hard at work on their crops, staring dumbstruck up at him as he flew overhead.
Surrounding this patch of green lush was nothing but open desert. Like Nicodemus had said, the only hospitable regions on this planet were those that had a sustainable water source, like this one, which were scarce in number. Josh briefly wondered if his crew had figured out some way to tap into the planet's subterranean water. Perhaps the answer to making the rest of this world habitable was somewhere in the files he'd downloaded from the NIMH-One's database...? Reminding himself he was on a rescue mission and any other plans would have to wait for later, he turned his attention back to the job at hand.
Soon, he'd left the sanctuary of Rosebush City behind him; the inhospitable wasteland of the desert stretched out on the ground beneath him, as he made his way north, towards his destination, wondering, or rather dreading, what he'd find when he got there...
Back at the palace, Princess Isabella stood on her favourite balcony overlooking the lava plains around the City with Tanya, as the girls watched together Josh's pod take flight from afar. Isabella had wanted so much to accompany her grandfather down to the lake to watch the launch, but Nicodemus had always forbidden her from leaving the palace, fearful of his many political enemies, who might try and target her. Tanya, being a servant, was likewise not allowed to leave the palace without special permission, as a precaution against conspiracies with spies, according to Arthur's regulations.
They watched as Josh's ship flew overhead and disappearing into the distance at incredible speed. Isabella was utterly mesmerised at the sight of that flying human chariot, wondering what it must be like riding on one of those things. Tanya, on the other hand, in direct contrast to her carefree friend and mistress, was too busy silently wishing Josh the best of luck from the bottom of her heart, praying he would return safely from this dangerous escapade with her missing brother.
Ever since coming to Rosebush City, parentless and penniless, Tanya had had to learn the meaning of great inner strength to carry on. Following the deaths of her parents and their banishment from their home, all she had left in the world was her brother. Being the eldest child, she resolved she would raise her younger sibling someplace far away, and rebuild both their lives for the better. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be.
Ever since her brother had been snatched away by the Exiles, Tanya had sworn she'd get him back somehow. Although she'd been lucky to find this job as a royal maid to support herself, nobody would help her find her Fievel. She had pleaded again and again with the Council, but her requests had been denied. Being of aristocratic background had helped little, as a noble bloodline loses its importance once it falls from glory, and the Council wasn't willing to waste resources to find a child of foreign background, and a lowly mouse nonetheless, which, for all they knew, was long dead. But then, this human from the stars had come along.
Like the majority of the Rats, Tanya had initially had qualms about approaching Josh for help – for all everyone knew, he could be an enemy spy out to destroy them, as Jenner kept saying to anyone who'd listen. On the other hand, she had little reason to trust the Council's judgement after they'd written off her brother for dead, realising he might be her only hope of ever seeing Fievel again. Her Papa had always said never to judge someone simply because they were different; and, indeed, those words had proven to be very true after she had built up the courage to go and see this Josh Anderson character for herself.
Tanya had never really known anyone she could look up to; then, this Captain Anderson, like a knight in shiny armour from her dreams, had volunteered without hesitation to get her brother out of slavery at the risk of his own life. Whether this was an act of pity, or just plain stupid nobility on his part, she wasn't sure, nor did she care. At last, she had a chance of seeing her brother again...unless of course, it turned out he was already dead. Her heart twisted painfully at the thought and she quickly shrugged it off. No, despite the overwhelming odds, somehow, she knew things would turn out fine.
"Oh, Mama, please let Fievel come back safely," she whispered to herself, as she watched Josh's pod disappear on the horizon.
Down in Nicodemus' study, the Rats had placed the transmitter on the desk by the window, just like Josh had instructed them to. Justin held the earphone of the jury-rigged tacomm to his ear, trying to establish contact. From their perspective, it felt so foolish, talking to an inanimate object, which was supposed to 'magically' carry their voices all the way to Josh, and his response back to them. If anyone else was seeing this, they'd sure take them for lunatics. Only Nicodemus seemed to have faith in this ridiculous contraption as he calmly sat, waiting patiently for Josh to answer back.
"Josh, are you there? Josh!" called Justin for the hundredth time. Still nothing. Beside him, Elizabeth sat fretting in her chair, anxious for Josh to reply – to tell them he'd found her children safe and sound.
"You're wasting your time," grumbled Brutus, his own patience quickly running out, "That stupid thing isn't working I tell you..." But, as it turned out, he'd be eating his own words, because, not a second too soon, Josh's crackling voice finally answered back.
"...Yes, you chaps, I'm here. I'm about fifty miles out, still heading north. I'm approaching the mountain range now..." They were in business! Once the excitement had died down, Justin turned back to the radio.
"All right, Josh, we're with you. What do you see?"
"The mountain range is completely engulfed in fog," came Josh's voice, making his reconnaissance, "I can see three peaks poking out through that muck; the tallest looks like an extinct volcano, about nine thousand feet high; the two other peaks on the south stick out like a pair of dog's front teeth. I can also make out the river we used to escape from Thorn Valley flowing in a canyon at the foot of the volcano. I'll fly in low to investigate the terrain..."
Nicodemus traced Josh's course across the rudimentary map of the outer territories, zeroing in on the volcano deep within the infamous mountain range, which Josh was describing over the radio. Very little was known of that region; most troops who dared venture that far had never made it back, the mountains' natural hazards, combined with the Exile's own guerrilla tactics, quickly making short work of them. But this time, thanks to Josh and his flying machine, they had one virtually untouchable trooper high up in the air.
"The Exiles' secret lair is rumoured to be somewhere in the vicinity of that volcano," Justin told Josh, "We suspect it might be within sight of the river, which they might be using for water... Josh? Josh, you still there?" Suddenly, Josh's voice had died away, and was replaced with some nerve-wracking whistling and static. Something was wrong.
"What's happening?" gasped Elizabeth in alarm, as they all gathered close, trying to listen. Justin furiously shook the earphone, "I don't know, I just lost him... Josh! Josh, where are you?!" But there was only silence. Elizabeth broke down into soft sobs...
Unbeknownst to the Rats, Josh was still up there all right, but faced with his own problems. He had taken the pod down through that pea-soup between the peaks, using his SAR to navigate the treacherous terrain. Outside his windshield, he couldn't even see three feet ahead of him, but the SAR camera easily penetrated this muck, bringing up a crystal-clear image of the ground on screen in false colour. It was only then that he realised his comms were down across the board. Something was interfering.
His first thought was it was some glitch in the flight instruments he might have overlooked during the pre-flight check, perhaps a short-circuit caused by water that had leaked into the electronics; however, his system status panel remained in the green. Then, he suddenly realised what was happening.
Of course, goddamn magnetic rock, he thought, muttering a curse under his breath. He had completely forgotten the Dark Mountains were rich in magnetic ores, as he had observed during the glider flight to Thorn Valley. The magnetic fields were jamming his radio, scrambling all transmissions into incoherent static. Even as he tried tuning over to lower frequencies, he couldn't get through. Now, he was completely cut off from his friends, leaving him the task of navigating the unfamiliar peaks of the mountains on his own.
Looks like this mission is becoming interesting much sooner than I thought...
With the SAR also down from all that interference, he switched over to the infrared scope for visual orientation, as he circled the base of the volcano, trying not to lose his bearings. But it was impossible; without some means of telling him in which direction he was headed, he was soon flying blind through a maze of mountains. The rippling feedback from the inferred camera showed numerous jagged peaks everywhere, as he continued flying, looking for any signs of the Exiles' hideout. He might as well be looking for a needle in a haystack.
He was just about to pull out, before he ended up smashed into the side of some mountain, when he finally spotted a familiar point of reference dead ahead: the canyon river, which he knew ran the full length of the mountain range, all the way to Thorn Valley on the far side. It was somewhere around here, Justin had said, that the Exiles were rumoured to be holed up.
Finally on the right track, Josh approached the river, using the inferred camera to scan the cliffs of the canyon for any heat signatures; if the Exiles' stronghold was somewhere around here, then, he figured, they'd be using fires to keep warm, which he could easily track from their heat signatures, magnetic interference or not. The 'bees' would lead him straight to the honey.
For a long while, he zigzagged in a search pattern over the area between the volcano and the river, but seeing nothing but cold barren rock. Not a single sign of life here. Maybe Justin has been wrong? Then, as he flew up to the top of the volcano for another reconnaissance, he finally spotted something – but it wasn't what he was looking for.
Sitting on the bottom of the misty crater was a familiar-looking object, which, from up here, resembled an inverted circular shield on spider legs. Of course! The unmanned probe Fitzgibbons had sent through the storm, which he'd gone foolishly chasing after. As he'd seen on the satellite map on the NIMH-One's bridge, the pod had indeed made it safely to the planet's surface, coming to rest down in that crater.
The lander appeared structurally intact, standing upright on its landing strut, its beacon still transmitting, waiting for a command from Mission Control to launch the SRV, to deliver its payload of geological samples back to Earth, which would never come. The sight of that probe had Josh resisting a temptation to land for a better look. Although designed for unmanned flights, it had a sizeable payload container, big enough to fit one man, and it had a single-use ion booster for light-speed travel. If he could find the equipment for all the necessary modifications, perhaps he could convert it into a long-range manned spacecraft? Perhaps that sample-return probe could be his ticket off this planet? He would just have to see, when the time was right.
He turned back to his hopeless search. This volcano – the highest peak among the mountains -, unlike the dormant one close to Rosebush City, was long extinct, the pod's instruments not picking up even the faintest sign of seismic activity or gas emissions. Josh thought hard. Could this mountain be the secret lair of the Exiles? If so, then where the hell was it?
Doing a 360 around the rim of the crater, surveying the sides of the mountain, he saw nothing but ice and volcanic rock. No fortified compound, no signs of movement, no smoke from campfires, nothing. It seemed he was looking in the wrong place. Then, suddenly, the inferred camera zeroed in on a contact: a faint, but definite heat signature coming from an opening halfway down the mountain side. Josh's first thought was that it was only some thermal vent unleashing steam from melting snow, but then remembered the volcano was thousands of years extinct, so there couldn't be any heat to create steam. Then, it could only be one other thing.
Eureka! Sure enough, as he did a fly-by on the side of the mountain, through his scope, he sighted the outline of a fortified entrance, leading into some compound built deep inside the bowls of the dead volcano. He had located the Exiles' hideout! Now came the tricky part.
He couldn't risk setting the pod down anywhere near the entrance; not only was the mountain side too steep and traitorous for landing, but if any lookouts spotted him, his cover would be blown and the children would be dead.
Searching the nearby terrain for a favourable landing site, he got a lucky break when he spotted a small flat plateau on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the canyon river at the foot of the mountain, just below the Exiles' lair. As he got close, he realised there was something else already sitting there.
Secured to the ground with mooring lines was the Jeremy, sitting proud and beautiful. It seemed the Exiles, after floating their prize down the river from Thorn Valley, had been unable to drag the glider up the rough mountainside to their fortress. So instead, they'd left it here, confident no one would ever come along and steal it. After all, what kind of crazy lunatic, other than him, be doing up in these mountains?
Following a routine procedure, he hovered over the plateau, gently hovering the pod down into a smooth landing. The undercarriage touched down on solid ground and she came to a gentle stop. Josh powered down the engines and generators, leaving only the stand-by batteries running, to keep the beacon working. Although the magnetic interference would most likely render the beacon useless, just like it had his radio, he still hoped it might work, at least for a short distance, to help him find his way back.
Opening up the hatch, he tossed down his kit and weapons and climbed down after them. The first thing he noticed was how drastically thin the air was up here. Because of the planet's smaller mass, combined with the high light-gas concentration, the atmosphere thinned out much faster at altitude than it did on Earth, making it difficult to breathe. Although he was only standing at an altitude of about eight thousand feet, the low pressure up here made it feel more like sixteen thousand. Likewise, the instrument pad on his wrist registered a chilling -5 degrees Celsius in air temperature. To add to his troubles, the fog didn't allow him to see more than a few feet ahead of him, even with his suit lights, making him almost a blind man and in danger of falling off a cliff if he took a wrong step.
Slamming his visor shut so he could take a breath from his EVA supply before he passed out, he donned his thermal goggles over the faceplate, allowing him to see his surroundings in false colour. He could see a narrow footpath leading up the side of the mountain. Collecting his weapons and gear, Josh marched uphill, towards the Exiles' lair.
By now, he could see how the Exiles always managed to evade capture. This mountain was the perfect refuge for a band of outlaws. Up here, nature was their ally; with the treacherous terrain and all the other natural hazards of the mountains at work, they were virtually untouchable, perfectly safe from the law. Here, you couldn't even see the sky to get some sense of direction; but the Exiles, who obviously knew every peak, every crevice and every cliff on this mountain, had no trouble finding their way around. Any troops hunting them down would only end up going round in circles forever until they collapsed from hunger or exposure. But this time, there was someone with the right technology and the drive to overcome all those obstacles.
The trek uphill seemed to take forever. The path grew steeper and steeper with every step, the fog thickening, making it impossible to tell how close he was getting to the hideout, or even if he was moving in the right direction. Although his infrared goggles were of some help, they weren't much use in a place where there was nothing but cold rock, which emitted no thermal radiation signatures whatsoever. Consulting his HHC, he saw he'd also lost the homing signal of his pod's beacon from the magnetic interference. Things were not looking good.
Refusing to give up now, he pressed on, moving uphill all the time, only taking a brief stop every few minutes to take a breather from his suit oxygen, walking in a straight line best he could. Eventually, the path dead-ended at a wall. Josh looked frantically around; there was no way up from here. But the hideout was up there, about a hundred metres above his head, as he'd seen it from the air. So how the hell did the Exiles get up there?
Removing his goggles to examine the cliff face with the naked eye, he didn't take him long to find the stepping stones fashioned out of wooden pegs hammered into cracks all the way up the cliff. Damn, these blighters must be swell climbers...
Making sure all his equipment was secure on his shoulders, he began his ascend. It wasn't pleasant; the climb seemed endless and Josh had never done much serious mountaineering, save for his military field training, always preferring to reach for the sky by flying. The pegs were narrow and unevenly placed, making them very difficult for an inexperienced climber like himself to work with. Glancing beneath him, he shuddered realising he couldn't even see the ground; although he wasn't that high up the wall, the thick mist made it seem as if he were hanging over an abyss.
As he continued his way up, going one step at a time, trouble finally struck. Losing his footing on one of the pegs, he barely managed to grab hold of the one above his head before he could fall and break his neck – but something else wasn't so lucky. Before he could do anything, his sword, which he'd been carrying over his shoulder, slipped out of its sheath and fall away. Josh saw it disappear into the mist, the clanging noise resounding as it landed on the rocks far below. Damn it!
Josh cursed in frustration. He had a good mind to climb back down and retrieve it; but, glancing at his watch, he realised there was no time to waste. Of all the dangers threatening him left, right and centre in this place, the most important one was time. Night wasn't very long coming and he had a good idea of just how cold it was going to get when it did. You could barely survive the desert at night without shelter; up here, temperatures were likely to plummet much, much lower after dark, making it impossible to survive. He figured he had a little over three hours until nightfall, after which, it would mean certain death out in the open, spacesuit or no spacesuit. He had to hurry.
Resuming his climb with a vengeance, he was overjoyed when he eventually reached the top of the cliff. But it was only after he'd pulled himself up onto the ledge that he realised he still had a long way to go. Rather than leading up to the hideout, the cliff had led him to the top of a narrow peak, protruding from a massive rock on the side of the volcano, seemingly leading nowhere. Then, he spotted the rickety suspension bridge the Exiles had rigged to get across to their side of the mountain, where their hideout was.
Josh hesitated as he stepped onto the makeshift suspension bridge, which was fashioned out of logs lashed together with rope. The structure felt rickety and creaked under his weight; perhaps the Exiles had sabotaged it for any unwelcome trespassers who might come this way? With only one way to find out, he took a deep breath and walked forward, his hands clutching the handrails, expecting it to fall apart at any second... But the bridge had no nasty surprises in store for him, other than a brief instant of sheer terror when his foot went straight through a rotten plank in midsection, which buckled and fell away, disappearing into the misty chiasm below. Whether this was deliberate, or just an accident, Josh couldn't tell – nor was he going to stick around and find out. Stepping over the gaping hole, he quickly made his way across.
On the other side of the bridge, he found himself on the edge of a narrow footpath running along the side of the mountain. Only about a foot wide and with a long drop over the edge into eternity, the path looked treacherous and foreboding. But at least, it was a way forward. Here we go again...
His back flat against the wall, Josh carefully made his way along the narrow footpath. Up here, there was a strong wind kicking up, forcing him to cling tightly to the wall with his suit pickaxe, to avoid being swept off into the misty void below.
Finally, the dangerous mountain hike reached the end of the road. The path widened out, until it eventually came to a protruding ledge resembling a small plateau on the side of the volcano. The mouth of a cave – formerly a volcanic vent – led deep into the mountain.
The entrance to the hideout was heavily fortified, with a stone wall of crude battlements and crenulations, just like a fortress, which was precisely what this place was. In a corner, Josh could see a large reflective dish resembling a mirror, mounted on a pedestal overlooking the wall, which he figured was a signalling tower the Exiles used. Although medieval fortifications, at least by Josh's standards, it was clear they were disciplined and well-organised. Definitely not a foe to be taken lightly.
Taking cover behind a large rock close to the entrance, Josh dimmed his suit lights and took out his weapons. As a Royal Air Force veteran, he had had training in hard routine disciplines and tactics. Taking out his Taser, he taped it to the end of his crossbow, fork extended, not unlike a bayonet on the muzzle of a rifle, to use in close-quarter combat. He was ready to go to war.
Carefully peaking around the corner of the rock, he spotted a lone guard standing watch outside a barricaded wooden gate blocking the cave entrance; on the other side, a second guard, barely visible, also stood watch. These Rats, in contrast to the clean and well-groomed population of Rosebush City, were thickset, with dirty, ragged fur and rotting teeth and a sadistic, murderous look in their eyes. Josh noticed they were wearing identical Roman-type tunics and armour to the soldiers in Justin's garrison.
Probably looted from dead soldiers who came seeking the hideout before me, thought Josh grimly, wondering whether his own possessions would also end up looted for swag by these ruffians after they'd slit his throat. Quickly dismissing that grim thought, fearing a jinx, he turned back to his assault plan.
He couldn't risk shooting the guard on his side of the gate first; if he did, his backup on the other side would instantly sound the alarm and then he'd have the whole Exile clan upon him. The trick was to get two birds with one stone. Loading an arrow into his crossbow and grasping a second between his teeth for a quick reload, he took aim at the guard – the one on the inside, waiting for a lucky shot. He got a lucky break a few seconds later when the guard happened to move into a particularly favourable spot between the bars to catch the breeze, allowing Josh had a clear shot of his head. He fired.
The arrow flew through the air, finding its target right in the surprised guard's face, penetrating clean through the eye socket and out through the back of his head. Without a sound, he crumpled to the ground, dead as a doornail. His dozing partner didn't see Josh's action, but heard his comrade's body hit the ground. He turned round to investigate, not realising he'd been duped.
In that instant of distraction, with the guard looking away from him, Josh sprang from his hiding place and jabbed the unsuspecting Rat in the back with his Taser. The guard crumpled to the ground, alongside his partner – only he was still alive, merely stunned. But not for much longer.
Realising he couldn't just let this fellow be, least he wake up and give him away before he was finished, Josh did the only thing he could think of. Heaving the still-breathing body of the bandit onto his shoulders, he carried him over to the wall and pushed him over the side. He's one damned lucky bastard to be unconscious, he thought, watching the Rat disappear into the mist below, to meet his doom at the foot of the mountain far below. Although slightly repulsed by what he had just done, Josh couldn't forget this was still a bandit, one of the hugs who had kidnapped Elizabeth's children and killed Auntie Shrew, maybe Jonathan Brisby too. The very armour he'd been wearing had come off the body of a slaughtered victim... No, this was justice served.
Hurrying back to the gate, he set to work breaking it in. The gate was bolted shut from the inside with a large wooden deadbolt wedged across from the other side. Taking out his laser cutter from his tool pouch, he slid it between the bars, the beam cutting through the deadbolt like a blade though warm butter. In thirty seconds flat, the bolt, burned neatly through, fell away and the gates swung open. Inside, he could see a tunnel with stone steps, illuminated by flaming torches mounted on brackets, leading deep underground.
Hurrying over to the body of the second guard he'd shot dead, he pulled it into the shadows and out of sight. Making sure there were no other guards around, he hurryingly stripped off the bandit's tunic, helmet and sword, which he donned over his spacesuit, hoping to fool anyone who might spot him from afar. He figured the Exiles wouldn't be checking on the guards until the next watch change, upon which they'd realise there was an intruder about – only, by that time, he would hopefully be halfway back down the mountain with the children and gone from this place. This was it.
Hang in there Teresa, Cynthia, Timmy, Martin. I'm coming...
Taking a deep breath to calm his shaky nerves, his crossbow loaded and ready, Josh made his way down the tunnel, into the Exiles' lair...the place where no other infiltrator in history had ever come out alive.
Author's note: My apologies for the delay but it's been quite a task writing out a chapter focused almost entirely on one OC character. I hope it hasn't been boring reading the whole eventful journey. Enjoy and PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!