Reclaim: Books 1-3 Page 8

  Teve stood and noticed a tall bookcase covering what should have been a door to the corridor. He moved the furniture aside and pushed the rotten timber over. The hidden door came out of the dust in the limited light of Mish's rifle.

  "Where does it go?"

  She flicked her fingers over the screen a few times. "This can't be right." A smile ripped across her face as her mouth opened wide. "It leads to a ladder down to the sewers."

  "Serious? I must have thought it was part of the supporting structure."

  She nodded, biting her lip as she shuffled side to side in excitement. Moreno climbed to his feet and stared over her shoulder with a curious grin.

  "Moreno," Teve said. "Grab your shit. We're not dying today."

  "Yes, Sarge."

  Mish moved over to Teve and handed the tablet over. Their hands met in the middle and lingered over each other for a moment.

  Moreno came over, ready to go. "Come on, let's do this."

  Teve regained his focus and grabbed his gear. "After you," he said to Mish. He watched as she pulled open the door and moved into the dark hallway.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Porter left the deck and headed back to the other side of the ship to continue training. Now more than ever, he needed to be in peak physical condition if he was to survive the coming week. The assault was to take place the instant the carriers and destroyers reached the front. Supplies and repairs would arrive in the meantime as the MAF had sent out speedy supply ships ahead of the new fleet.

  Porter bumped into Cannon on the way to his ship, receiving a hug from her a moment later as she celebrated the news.

  "I can't believe it. We're actually going to hit back at these bastards. It's about time, too. I don't think I could stand another stupid delivery run."

  Porter nodded. "They were getting dicey. Still, they were important."

  "Important and boring. Flying through those aliens without shooting was painful enough let alone trying to drop the crates into the right location. Who knows how many made it to the surface in one piece?"

  "Not enough," he said, thinking about his family on the ground. "It was hard enough without proper communication with Earth. It'd be nice if the Zeal allowed us to keep one satellite in orbit."

  "Well, soon we'll be reclaiming that airspace. Then these slimy bastards will be the ones begging us for survival." Cannon's eyes twitched as she said her words. She had lost her entire family to the aliens. An Earther like Porter, Cannon was present when the Andromeda received one of the last transmissions. The broadcast confirmed the major cities across the US had been destroyed in the initial attack. Her parents lived in New York City at the time, facing the brunt of invasion.

  Porter's family, though, were still alive in their farming county of Wichita, KS, United States. Quite a number of small towns carried on, living each day without firsthand knowledge of the Zeal. Only his brother was unaccounted for, serving in the United States Marine Corps before it got absorbed into the UEF.

  "So, how does it feel to be back in a Stalker? Did you get your ass handed to you out there?"

  Porter shook his head, coming back to the present. "Not a chance. It'd take more than a crash landing to mess with these skills."

  Cannon scoffed. "We'll see about that."

  As the pair arrived on deck, Garcia interrupted. "Not so fast. Your training time will need to wait."

  "What's up, ma’am?" Cannon asked.

  The captain lowered her brows. "I want you both to start training the latest batch of newbies."

  "Oh, come on," Porter said.

  Cannon added her input to his weak argument. “I already had to fill in for Sanders.”

  "Cut the bullshit, Lieutenants. We need as many sticks in the air as possible when the assault goes ahead. Now, head down to Deck C and begin removing the rough edges on these graduates. Make them combat ready in seven days."

  "Yes, ma’am," they both said. Garcia nodded and moved on.

  Porter turned to Cannon once the captain cleared the area as a scowl formed on her face.

  "Goddamn rookies," she muttered. "So we have to suffer because of them. Well, you know what that means? It's time to come down hard on some cadets."

  Cannon's mood shifted three times in the space of a minute. Porter watched her turn and leave in a hurry.

  "I'll see you on Deck C," she said over her shoulder. He couldn't help but enjoy her enthusiasm as he shook his head at the thought of having to train up a group of cadets in only one week.

  Porter stared out at his ship before leaving, silently wishing he could use the time to gain one more slice of luck to survive the coming battle. With a sigh, he left the sight of his X90 and followed Cannon.

  A few minutes later, he arrived on deck to find a row of graduate pilots standing around a Stalker, chatting away as if they had no problems in the world.

  "No one told me the Zeal had packed up and fled. I figured this must be true seeing as you all have so much time on your hands."

  The dozen young men and women all spun around and took notice of the lieutenant's arrival. Some worked out who the man might be while the rest replied with vacant faces.

  "Did I stutter? Fall in line, dammit." This was the one part of the whole mess Porter enjoyed. It was his job to break the group down and isolate the talent from the career coasters. The best way to do that was to rile them all up and give them a common enemy who angered them more than the Zeal.

  The cadets were all fresh out of flight school and knew how the military worked. Porter wouldn't need to hit them too hard to force his point across. Most would remember the sting of a CO's tongue.

  "My name is Lieutenant Bradley Porter. I will be training you worthless cadets over the next seven days before we attack the Zeal."

  A few murmurs erupted along the line. Porter pinpointed one cadet and focused in on the noise coming from his mouth.

  "Did I give you permission to speak, Cadet?"

  "Sir, no, sir," yelled the twenty-something man with a shaved head. The kid stood half a foot taller than Porter, reminding him of his brother. A moment passed by as he thought about Teve until the cadet's eyes began to shift rapidly from left to right.

  Porter cleared his throat. "That's what I thought. Now, I could apply the usual MAF punishment and make you all run laps around this deck until you puke, but I don't need to. I've got something far worse to get my message across than a bit of exercise."

  The cadets glanced around, stealing looks from each other.

  "No clues? Figures. What I have to shut your mouths with comes in the form of mere numbers. If you think you'll be strapping into MAF birds and hitting the Zeal with your dicks swinging, think again. These aliens are a ruthless, battle-hardened enemy set on stun. We don't even know their real potential. They barely register us as a threat."

  "Is that supposed to scare us, sir?" one of the cadets asked. The rest started to chuckle.

  A smile stretched out from the corner of Porter's mouth as he stepped toward the joker of the group. "Twenty-six," he said over the laughter. "Twenty-six pilots died on the last sortie to send supplies through to Earth. And that was a good day. The average run results in the death of thirty-five pilots. Thirty-five cadet morons will typically provide easy targets for the Zeal."

  The line fell silent. The cockiness vanished from every single face.

  "In one week, we are going to hit the Zeal with everything we've got. They won't take our attack lying down. We'll probably receive a coordinated response from the three Cyclone ships unlike anything else. Now, who wants to shut the hell up and listen to what I have to say?"

  The line remained silent. Porter had their full attention.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The access tunnel from the office building led Teve, Mish, and Moreno to an old, rusted service ladder.

  "What a long way to fall," Mish said as she shined her rifle's flashlight down the round hole. "Can't even see the bottom."

  "It's our only option," Teve
said. "We'll take it one at a time to reduce our weight. I'll go first and yell out once I've reached the sewer."

  Moreno and Mish didn't argue, and both stepped aside for the sergeant to head down the ladder into the decayed ruins of the city.

  Teve slung his rifle over his shoulder and left his flashlight attachment running. The cone of bright light bounced off the solid concrete surface as he placed a foot on the first rung down the hole. The steps groaned under the weight of his towering frame. The last person to venture down here might have been from a time when the average man was well under six-feet tall.

  "Does it feel like it will hold?" Mish asked as Teve lowered down another step.

  He glanced up and felt the movement in the metal with every step he took. "Should be okay for you. I think I'm pushing it to the limit. Moreno should be good as well."

  In the distance, back toward the basement, more digging took place. The Zeal were still trying to claw their way down and find their prize.

  "Time to go. Moreno. Keep an eye on the tunnel behind." Teve dropped down another rung and started to descend a bit faster. It was a delicate balancing act. He couldn't move too quick and risk putting extra pressure on the aging metal. On the other hand, if he moved too slowly, the Zeal would bring an end to their little escape.

  After five minutes of climbing down, he gazed up and could barely make out the light from Mish's rifle. A few steps later, he found the ground.

  "Made it," he shouted up the ladder. "Go, Mish." He stared up and squinted as her flashlight disappeared for a second when she dropped down to the first step.

  With time on his hands, Teve swept his weapon around and ran his light over the sewer tunnel. The area spanned out in two directions with a few branches splintering off to the side. The three soldiers risked getting lost with one wrong turn, but it was better than becoming a Zeal hostage. No one knew for sure what happened to the prisoners. Command believed Adams was alive, but not much else. The thought made him pull up his e-slate.

  After loading up the offline map of the sewer network, Teve realized something about their current location. In one direction, the tunnel would lead them back toward a safe escape. If they headed the other way, the Zeal base was only a few klicks along the network's path. He moved the map to the coordinates of Adams’ last known position. Being permanently offline with no live network connection, Teve had to rely on the assumption Adams hadn't been moved. It was a lot to place on a complete guess, but Command gave them nothing else to go on.

  "Holy crap, what a long climb down," Mish said as she arrived. "Where are we?"

  "At the perfect crossroads. We've got home and freedom this way, and a potential entry into the Zeal base in the other direction."

  Mish's brow screwed up at the mention of the Zeal base. "Are you serious? Their base is down there?"

  "According to this map, the network runs right through the middle of it."

  "Surely they'd have it blocked off or defended?"

  "Maybe. Or maybe they are stupid enough to have left the back door wide open on their little building."

  Mish scoffed. "Wait, you're not considering going down there, are you?"

  Teve stared off down the dark tunnel. The light from his flashlight got eaten by the shadows after a short range. "It might be a golden opportunity to scout it out. Check out Adams' location; he's not far away from the network path. If we can figure out the best way to go, we can come back here with the right equipment and stroll right into the place. This way we don't have to capture a Stilt alive."

  "No. Screw that. We just lost the new guy and have the Zeal hot on our asses, and you want to push our luck again? What the hell is wrong with you?"

  Teve took a deep breath. He thought about her words and understood they were spot on, but something drove him forward, begging to discover what was ahead. "I'll go alone."

  "I'm sorry, what?"

  "You heard me. I'll scout the tunnel by myself. It'll be quicker and quieter that way."

  "No, it's suicide. You—"

  "This isn't suicide. It's an opportunity I can't let slip by. This may be a turning point for us. If I can find a way inside the Zeal base, imagine what we could do with that knowledge. Hell, we could sneak a nuke in there and wipe them out in one blast."

  Mish held her head as she paced around the tunnel. "No, Teve. It's too dangerous."

  He shook his head. "You and Moreno head home. Find a way out and double back to the Humvee. If I'm not back in four hours, go straight to Phoenix."

  Mish went to speak, but her mouth stopped before she managed to form the right words. "This is so stupid."

  Teve walked up to her and grabbed her arm with a gentle grip. "I'll be okay. I'm only taking a look. Nothing else."

  With vacant eyes, she shook her head. "Whatever. Just don't say I didn't warn you, dammit."

  He moved closer to Mish and saw a few tears welling up in her eyes. He leaned toward her and gently ran the back of his hand over her cheek to catch a tear as it rolled down the side of her face. "I'm coming back, okay? I promise."

  "That's a promise we both know you can't make. This is a war we can't win and you—"

  Teve leaned down and kissed her on the lips, silencing her argument. Mish kissed him back, grabbing his body and embracing him with everything she had. The two soldiers had been through hell over the last three years, surviving every skirmish and blow to the UEF while countless people died around them.

  They were there when the Zeal first attacked, fighting back with everything they had. They survived the initial devastation, the failed and bloody campaigns of USMC, and the ongoing war of attrition.

  Moreno made some noise above as he reached the bottom of the ladder. Teve pulled back from Mish, letting his hand slide off her body. "I'll be okay," he whispered.

  "You better be."

  "Moreno," Teve said. "You and Mish are heading back to the Humvee. I'm going to scout ahead toward the Zeal base."

  "What? Sarge? You can't be—"

  "Save the speech for later. We don't have much time. Take point and get the hell out of here. If I'm not back to the Humvee in four hours, go back to Phoenix. That's an order."

  Moreno nodded. "Yes, Sarge."

  "I'll see you both soon," Teve said, staring into Mish's eyes.

  "Good luck," she said.

  Teve took one last glance at her face and almost changed his mind. He turned away and brought his rifle up to shine its flashlight down the never-ending tunnel.

  "Four hours," he muttered to himself as he set a vibration alarm on his e-slate. "Four hours and I'm home."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Porter stared out at the twelve dots on his screen inside the control room attached to Launch Bay C. The blips on his display represented his cadets. Each pilot was loaded into a tube ready for the slingshot system to toss them out of the Andromeda in their X90 Stalkers.

  "Board is green, sir," a control room tech said.

  "Thank you," Porter said as he clipped a wireless comm to his ear. "Listen up, Cadets. You are all about to experience a simulated combat launch. The first time is the worst. You are about to be thrown out of the ship at a rate of 500 meters per second. You will reach this speed in point three of a second and be shot out into space like a bullet. Your engines will kick in once you clear the Andromeda and add more g-forces to your body. This will feel like an elephant has sat on your chest. My best advice: don't pass out, and keep your eyes open. Now sound off."

  Porter leaned back in his chair and placed his feet up on the console as the twelve cadets all shouted out in order over the comm. As each cadet spoke, another row of lights lit up green to confirm their channels were operational.

  "Okay, people. Prepare to lose your lunches in three, two, one. Mark." Porter slapped the master launch button for all twelve cadets and watched a camera feed display a split arrangement of the tunnels. A dozen Stalkers blasted out as one from the carrier into space.

  Porter switched the array to each shi
p's nose view. "Okay. You're out in space. Now tighten up your trajectories. Burns, Smith, Jensen: straighten out your birds; you're all flying sideways." He leaned back in his seat and made sure the cadets heard every word out of his mouth. "What a bunch of shit kickers. I thought they sent me graduates from flight school. All I'm seeing is a group of college dropouts pretending to be pilots."

  The display on the console showed a scattering of twelve dots. Porter shook his head at the sight, realizing how much work he had ahead of himself. "Form up, for Christ's sake. Flight leaders: take charge. Push out your squadron fifty clicks and form a patrol around the Andromeda. We'll take it two at a time and discover what you useless newbies can do."

  Porter spent the next ten minutes waiting for the four flight leaders to get their act together. By the time each group had created their patrols, he could have jumped into the next available bird and beaten them to the punch.

  "Pathetic. Just pathetic the lot of you. I don't know where to begin." With time against them, Porter realized how bad the cadets were. He had to shape them into pilots in less time than it took the average cadet to learn which end of the Stalker faced forward.

  "Okay, Rodriguez. You and Smith break from the patrol and head back toward the ship. I'm going to throw a few Zeal Tritons at you."

  "Roger that," they both said over the comm. The two fighters broke away from the squadron, taking longer than necessary to do the simple task. They finally formed up and moved toward the Andromeda.

  Porter launched six of Garcia's drones. He dialed back the difficulty and set them on an intercept course with the cadets.

  "Rodriguez. Smith. You've got incoming Tritons. What are you going to do about it?"

  "Sir," Smith said. "There are six of them. Isn't that a bit much to start off with?"

  Porter scoffed. "Get used to it. The Zeal outnumber our fighters ten to one on any delivery run using only a fraction of their available ships. When we launch against them—later this goddamn week—they might actually decide to send out every Triton they have."