God's Dogs

Unarmed combat would not seem to be preparation for war, but the study of unarmed combat makes your body used to action, so in fact it is the basis for all further training.

Gen. Qi Ji Guang

Their credentials got them through the building’s security but not the human checkpoints. Therefore, they used the elevator shafts to ascend to the 47th floor. Their implant A.I.s coordinated their separate arrivals so that they hit the security teams on that floor simultaneously.

Using the stun setting on their pistols, and their A.I.s jamming communications, they took out the three four-man teams roaming the halls in seconds.

Then they stacked up on the two doors to the meeting room. Triggering the locks with their universal access, they burst into the room and stunned the bodyguards and anybody else that proved hostile.

Canceling his suit camo, Quinn spoke, “We’re a Coyote team and you are under arrest. Comply with our lawful orders and no one gets hurt. Be aware we are recording this action. Anything you say can be used as evidence. I suggest you remain silent.”

Jonathan Smythe-Wilson strode forward. “I know you, Quinn. What the hell is going on?”

“You’re under arrest for corruption, bribery, and assorted other felonies.”

The window behind Wilson shattered as a projectile crashed into the room. Moss leaped on it as it exploded. Most of the shrapnel was neutralized by the suit’s shield, but some leaked out to wound a few people.

River went to one knee at the window. “Three tangos. Looks like they’re prepping for another shot.”

Then there was the muffled bark of her sniper’s rifle. “Tangos down. Scanning for more.”

Moss was dealing with the wounded. Pax was organizing the group for exfiltration. Quinn was giving the go signal to the marines inside the building. They would be charging up the stairs to clear it of hostiles.

“Let’s go,” Quinn said.

River was the last out and shut off the lights. That was the signal for the marines outside to prepare for a fighting withdrawal.

Pax shepherded the group down the stairs, while Quinn and Moss cleared the stairway ahead. River was rear guard. She slung her sniper rifle and pulled her pistol.

The rendezvous was the 28th floor. Once the marines set up a perimeter, the demo team blew windows on all four sides of the building. Then they secured ropes and hurled them out the window. The Coyotes, their camo switched off but their shields switched back on, rappelled down the ropes, 300 feet to the ground.

This drew fire from the external security forces, including two assault craft in the air. The marines outside returned fire now that the opposition announced its locations.

As the fire diverted to the Coyotes, one of Satya’s stealth shuttles butted up to a rear window, and the prisoners were loaded. A second shuttle, not as well stealthed, took the marines. Once the shuttles were clear, the marines on the ground melted away, heading for the final rendezvous point.

The marine shuttle headed for a League Intelligence safe house ten miles from the now burning building, as one of the security aircraft crashed into it setting it on fire.

As the team assembled on the ground, Moss commented, “I hope the other one crashed where it was supposed to.”

Then they began jogging to the safe house. The next phase of the plan was to get the prisoners to a ship provided by one of the ASI-led worlds. Reportedly, the ship was unique. What made it unique wasn’t reported. All Master Chin told them was it was a fully armed destroyer with superior stealth technology.

Speed was now important, because the enemy ready force was surely in-bound. They didn’t know the composition of that force, nor did they know its rules of engagement.

Quinn told them, “Satya is reporting five assault drop ships coming from low orbit and two converging on us from a ground base.”

“They tracked the marine shuttle,” River said.

“That was the plan,” Quinn replied.

“So,” Moss said. “Plan B?”

“Is a go. Our shuttle will divert to the other side of the planet to head for orbit. The marine shuttle will drop the marines at the safe house. We’ll keep the bad guys entertained there for a while. Once the prisoners are secure, we can call it a day.”

The safe house was a hardened target. In addition to a rudimentary energy shield, there was underground access to a rail system.

Two opposition shuttles beat the team to the safe house by fifteen minutes, and the security forces engaged the marines inside. The drop ships coming from orbit would arrive about the same time as the team.

Quinn deployed them in a wide front, and they hit the troops from the rear. Then he switched to Murphy's channel. "We're coming in. Watch for our IFF signals. We're spread out and plan on moving fast and doing as much damage as we can."

Firing at the soldiers as the team passed through the enemy’s now-confused line, they reached the marine line in the building.

"We're ready, gunny," Quinn told Murphy.

"Okay," Murphy told the marines, "fall back by the numbers."

As the marines fell back, the team replaced the marines in the house. The marines headed to the rail cars waiting underground.

The team blunted the rush from the fresh troops off the drop ships. They put up a fierce resistance until Murphy let them know they marines were outbound on the train. Then the team faded away by passing back through the enemy’s disorganized line to regroup at the train’s exit a few miles distant.

Murphy greeted them with the full platoon, minus the marines on Satya’s shuttle, “Right on time, Quinn.”

“Everybody okay?”

“Bumps and bruises. Nothing serious.”

“Last bit, then. Let’s go.”

The last bit was for the platoon to march into the local police station and make a report of their activities, present their warrant to arrest those they did, and Lt. Basel would hold a brief press conference. Marshal McIntyre would also be present to verify the marines acted in accordance with League legal policy.

The team slipped away as the marines entered the police station. Satya’s second shuttle picked them up and flew them to the destroyer. It, too, was stealthed in high orbit.

The ship’s captain and a security detail met them in the landing bay.

“I’m Captain Jons,” he introduced himself. Jons was a tall, wiry black man in a burgundy ship suit. He approached with an air of easy authority.

“Quinn, team lead.”

“Welcome aboard Python, Quinn,” the captain’s deep voice replied slowly. “The League diverted us here for this operation. We were returning home after our deployment in the former Empire. The crew is understandably upset at the delay.”

Moss sauntered forward, “Well, captain, you are at the beginning of the end to government corruption.”

“Those prisoners?”

“Yes,” Quinn affirmed. “A couple of senators, some CEOs, and I’m not sure who else. I’d like to question them.”

Jons turned to his security team. “Please take care of the Coyote team, chief.”

“Aye, sir,” a broad-chested older man in a deep blue ship suit replied. “This way, sir.”

Jons said, “I’d appreciate if you keep me informed.”

Moss grinned at him. “Check the news, captain. It should be blowing up by now.”

The ship was a 300 meter long ovoid tube. Two corridors ran the length of the ship, one on each side. Connecting corridors led to the various work and living spaces. The brig was up one level, forward of engineering. The prisoners were in holding cells, four to a cell.

The chief told Quinn, “We treated the wounded ones, but they are an ungrateful lot.”

“No doubt, chief. Their world just turned upside down.”

Then Quinn said, “Pax and River will question Wilson. Moss and I will see to the others. Do you have an interview room, chief?”

Once Wilson was seated in the interview room, and they all settled down, Pax said, “They tried to blow you up, Senator.”

“I know,” he squirmed as he said it. “What kind of deal can you make me?”