September 6th, 2262. 01:07 Washington D.C. Safe House, Hillwood Estates
John and Alice were not accustomed to sleeping in guest quarters. Not that these quarters were bad mind you. The room was roughly the size of their large living and dining room on St. Mary’s station.
The mansion they were staying at also housed Captains Ekre and Walker, four of Ekre’s investigative team, and several marines that were present for security. Only two people were awake at this hour. One was patrolling the grounds and the other was inside reviewing the security cameras.
That all changed when the kinetic shields flared up outside which caused the armored blinds to immediately drop and lock into place. Internal kinetic shields were engaged as well. If that wasn’t enough to wake someone up the alarms were blaring loudly in the home.
John was out of bed in a flash. He was already putting on a combat suit when Alice got out of bed. She saw the heavily scarred back of her husband and began to worry. John's first nature was to jump into danger, and he wasn’t hesitating to do that at this moment.
“Run to the safe room, I’ll be following you in a moment,” John said as he zipped up the suit.
He hastily locked the armor plates into position and grabbed a helmet. He ran to the safe room, and not surprisingly was the last one there. He walked past everyone to the armory. It didn’t take long for John to pull out a sidearm and a couple of spare magazines and an assault rifle.
John grumbled to himself, “This’ll have to do.”
He then walked through the crowd of people before being stopped by Captain Walker, “What are you doing Lieutenant? You don’t have orders to leave this building.”
John slid the helmet on, “I’m going to kill or capture the assholes that are doing this.”
Alice grinned, she knew full well that when he got like this no one, not even God himself, was going to change his mind. A fast and savage counterattack was the only way to end this conflict. Try as humanity might, it couldn’t overcome its bestial nature. Conflict is what has driven this species since the dawn of time, and that was no different today.
In a blink of an eye, John had run out of the room and taken a side exit of the mansion grounds. Twenty seconds later he had leaped onto and then over the tall walls to the adjacent property. John was already talking to the marines who were monitoring things from their command center.
“Highlighting the likely building the fire is coming from, sir,” one of the marines said to John.
“Understood. What are the drones seeing?”
“Two vans in an alley behind the building. Expecting them to be exfil vehicles.”
John stopped at the edge of the building he was running alongside. He checked to see if any hostiles were on the ground. His armor would protect him from small arms fire, but the anti-material rifles they were shooting at the building would slice through him like butter. Admittedly that wasn’t something high on the list of things to experience for John, so a preponderance of caution was necessary to creep up on the adversaries without being seen.
He dashed out and sped across the street. John dashed into the shadows and hopped a fence and ran through the yard. He was closing the distance on the hostile building quickly. One of the marines radioed him.
“Sir, five heat sources were detected on the third floor. Transmitting the layout now.”
“Roger, what about those vehicles?”
“Got a drone that’s already in control of both and another team of marines inbound on that alley.”
“Understood,” John said as he hopped another fence and dashed across the street.
He ran halfway down the alley in front of him. John jumped over another fence and walked over to the target building. He looked up and locked his rifle to his back. The HUD displayed a route John could take up the side of the building.
John stepped onto a small knee-height retaining wall. It was from there that he began scaling up the brick wall. He used the various window ledges and brick outcrops to climb up the wall. Barely a minute later he was peeking through an open window on the third floor. The room was empty. John quietly hoisted himself up and through the window.
The assault rifle was drawn from his back and a suppressor was quickly slid over and locked over the muzzle. John dashed over to the wall and peaked out of the room. He could hear two guns fire rounds one after another. One of them was coming from down the hall, the other seemed to be in the room three steps down the hall and to his left.
“Sir, three heat signatures in that room. All three are by the window,” a marine said.
“Tally-ho,” John said as he walked into the hallway.
John waited outside the room and waited for them to shoot. Once the enemies fired a round John dashed into the room, leveled his gun, and fired off a three-round burst into the man that was managing the ammunition behind the gunmen.
The first round struck and shattered the rear armor plate. Unfortunately for the man the second and third rounds pierced the man’s compression suit and sent him to the floor. Whether he was killed in action or not didn’t matter to John at that point, he was effectively knocked out of the fight.
The spotter looked back at the commotion but all he was able to do was muzzle flash from John. Another three-round burst was fired. The first two rounds struck the armor plate on his chest, but the third round hit him square in the nose. He fell back slowly and was dead before he crumpled to the floor.
John didn’t waste any time and fired off two bursts at the gunner. The anti-material gun protected the man from half of the rounds, but his trigger finger was severed by a combination of the two rounds and debris from the rounds that struck the gun.
Two other rounds struck the man’s right arm while the final round missed his hand by inches. John dropped his rifle and quickly drew his knife and ran towards the man to finish him. The enemy had no chance, went for the neck immediately, and ended the man’s life quickly and mercifully.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” a man yelled from down the hallway.
John sheathed the knife and walked back to the open doorway.
“What…” the enemy turned the corner and was shocked at the sight he beheld.
A random assault rifle was in the middle of the room. Three of his compatriots lay dead or dying on the floor. What caught his eye though was one of the men was groaning quietly.
“Hold on, I’m…” the man said as he walked into the room.
But he wasn’t able to finish the sentence. John grabbed the man’s right hand with his and wrapped his left hand around the man’s neck in a tight chokehold. The man’s impotent attempt to break out of the hold was short-lived and he knocked the man out quickly.
John helped the man to the floor and opened up his mouth. He looked around his mouth and say a telltale false tooth. He pulled a small plier from a pouch on his combat suit and pulled the suicide tooth from the man’s mouth. John tossed the tooth to the corner of the room and quickly bound the man’s arms and legs.
“P-2, what the fuck are you doing out there?” another man yelled from down the hallway.
One of the marines piped up on the coms, “Sir, we have six hostiles up there.”
John laughed, “Yeah, figured that out for my own chief.”
John picked up his rifle and jogged down the hallway. He pressed the mag release and with a quick flip of the wrist the magazine was flung out of the gun and a new one was locked into place. When he was just about to the last door John switched the gun to full auto.
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As he rounded the door the butt stock was pulled into his shoulder. Neither of the hostiles had any clue what was about to befall them. Rounds were flying out of the gun, at a rate of roughly nine hundred rounds per minute. One and a half seconds per man was all that it took to run that forty-round magazine dry.
Both hostiles were riddled with bullet wounds and were bloody messes. Their legs and arms were twitching, involuntarily, which would have disturbed most people. To John, it was an all-too-common phenomenon. It was simply the release of an electrochemical reaction in our nerves.
John turned and walked back to the first room. He checked on his captured man, they were still breathing but were definitely out of it still. The reloader then flipped himself over. John locked the rifle to his back and drew his pistol.
“Why are you killing us?” he weakly said.
John grinned as he walked over to the man, “You had the audacity to shoot at a home I was staying in. I don’t take kindly to being shot at.”
He leaned down and pointed the pistol at the man’s head, “Who hired you?”
“I’ll never talk. Besides…”
John pulled the trigger, “Yeah yeah, you had your trump card.”
He stood up and fired one more round at the tooth in the corner of the room before holstering the pistol, “Five hostiles have been eliminated. Captured one alive and largely unharmed. Get a van over here. We’re going to have a conversation with this asshole.”
“We have friendlies at the loading area. Both vans are being moved. Military police are coming in to secure the room.”
“Roger that. I’ll bring sleeping beauty downstairs.”
John walked over to the unconscious man and picked him up with ease. He flung the man over his shoulder and headed downstairs. Nothing about this made sense to John. They weren’t trying to destroy the shields. It was almost as if it were suppressive fire. He got on the radio with the marines to check their neighborhood scans during the attack, but the initial results just led to more questions. Just what the hell was going on?
September 7th, 2262. 03:35 Washington D.C. Safe House, Hillwood Estates Detached Garage
The lone hostile that survived the attack, the drivers very stupidly drew weapons on the marines that arrived at the location, was sitting blindfolded in the middle of an empty three-stall garage. John and a pair of marines were talking near one of the doors.
“Sir, the asshole is awake,” one of the marines pointed at the man.
“Cameras and audio are shut off. Y’all can guard the doors. No one is to come in here without my permission.”
Lieutenant Klaven shook his head, “Sir, I must make it abundantly clear. We are not going to be a party to any lawbreaking.”
“And you won’t Lieutenant. You are to go back into the house. This garage may as well be magical because it doesn’t exist for you anymore. I’ll keep the coms open so you can hear things until that is that I choose to shut them down.”
John closed the doors and finished taping up the last piece of cardboard to block out the last window into the garage. He then grabbed another chair and dragged it over towards the man. John then pulled the bag off the man’s head and then sat down in front of the man.
“So, this is how things are going to go. Just nod yes or no for me for now. I’m going to break a rib for each lie you tell me. When we’re done with ribs then we’ll go to fingers than toes. After that, I’m going to use that tree branch clipper to cut off fingers and toes. If you still are lying to me after all that the chainsaw is going to get used to removing larger chunks of you,” John put his finger up in front of the man and took a breath, “I’m telling you all of this not to frighten you, but to simply level set expectations here. Now, do you understand?”
The calmness and casual nature in how John delivered the framework of their conversation frightened the man. He nervously nodded. That produced an unusual response in his captor and would-be torturer, a smile formed on John’s face.
“Good. Now, what is your name?” John paused, “Again, I must stress, no lies. Oh, and forgive me for being so forgetful. Provide me with actionable intel and you may get to walk out of here free. The worst-case scenario is I cut you up into little pieces and dump you in the sea.”
“Gerald Volk,” the man said.
“I’ll give you that one for free. How about your real name and nation of origin?”
The man couldn’t maintain eye contact. His eyes darted to spots on the garage door behind John or the floor. He was trying to figure out how to answer the question.
“Don’t make me repeat myself either. Time is of the essence here,” John’s pleasant demeanor had shifted.
“Eric Walken. I’m a citizen of the Mercantilist Union and I am from Tri-Cassiopa Beta.”
“Good. You didn’t lie. How’s New Holland this time of year?” John asked inquisitively.
Eric looked at his captor and paused for a moment before answering, “From my home, it’s pretty comfortable out though it’s going to get plenty warmer as the month drags on.”
“How many other teams did you come here with?”
“Three.”
“Their targets?”
The man shook his head.
“You do realize I wasn’t just making idle threats.”
“I’m aware, but while I know there were other teams, we arrived separately and had our own mission to accomplish.”
“And what was your mission?”
“Our target was a captain. Uhm, Walker was her name. She’s an attorney with the military.”
John almost looked, but certainly felt, offended at the answer. He stood up from his chair and walked over to the garage door. He rippled his fingers off of it for a moment.
“Why did you want to kill the attorney?”
“It was to disrupt the hearing.”
“Well fat lot of good that did,” John said dismissively, “Between you me and the door here, she isn’t crucial to the fucking hearing. Sorry, Captain,” John grinned as he was sure both Captains were listening in on this sketchy questioning.
“Well, our boss thought otherwise.”
“Who in Confed space reached out to your boss?” John turned and watched the man closely.
“I don’t know. We just got the orders and headed here,” Erick said.
John noticed him flinch a bit. Erick’s breathing had sped up too. John sat there without blinking and watched the man, he began to squirm under the intense glare.
“We’re reading elevated heart and breathing rates,” one of the marines said to John through his earpiece.
John walked over to the man and true to his word punched the man hard with a right hook. He landed square on the man’s final true rib. Erick yelped in pain.
“You were given ample warning. Now, who hired you?”
The man winced in the chair. His captor was not joking. Erick’s eyes were wide with the realization that the threats were anything but idle. It was also clear to him that there were military types here. Given the attack on their residence, they may be willing to overlook whatever was happening in the garage. Erick’s options for survival were as limited as he had feared.
“I work for a paramilitary company, Captain’s Privilege, that specializes in mil-tech corporate espionage and more. Obviously, you’ve seen what we do. I don’t know the individual, but a group called the Sunset Initiative hired us.”
The marine then spoke into John’s earpiece, “Lieutenant, that group has associated with others that are working to wrest control from the Liberal-Conservative party in the Senate.”
“That party’s name doesn’t make a damn bit of sense,” John grunted and shook his head as he walked back to the garage door and leaned on it, and spoke quietly, “What can you tell me about how a Mr. Gerald Volk entered our space? Any hits on the other name?”
“No flags raised by entry. Background check on the extra-net and known data points in the Union’s data-net all checkout. It stands to reason that they have political connections to get fake identities created.”
Another marine came on, “Naval Intelligence has him flagged as a high-value person of interest. Nothing crime related but he seems to have intel they’d like to get.”
“Erick, why would Naval Intelligence want you arrested?”
A cold sweat washed over him. John noticed it immediately, though he didn’t let on that he was aware. In truth, it delighted John to see him be more terrified of them than he. Which made no sense because while intelligence would use underhanded methods to get the information, they wouldn’t go to the lengths John absolutely would.
“How do I know you won’t sell me out?”
“Naval Intelligence tried to kill me when I got back to Confed space after my ship got its shit pushed in. I’m no longer a friend to them,” John said calmly and politely.
“My organization has smuggling operations in and out of the major powers.”
“What are you smuggling?”
“I’d rather not say,” Erick was looking at the ground.
“It wasn’t a request.”
“There’s some bounty hunting for the major powers. We got one of their deep cover agents in Alliance space. The agent was returned in a prisoner swap, but they are…”
“Understandably butthurt over it,” John finished the conversation.
“Story checks out sir,” the previous marine he spoke with said.
“Where’s your data slate or chip with all information?”
Erick sighed, “There’s a red data slate. It slides open. It’s inside that.”
John held his hand up to Erick, “Make a copy of that information and send it to me. Also, have a copy available to all of us on the compound. We’ll let Intelligence have the intel.”
“You said you’d let me go!” Erick protested.
“I haven’t reneged on our agreement. Whether or not we let you go is dependent on what’s on that chip. If it has no usable intel then your useless to me,” John said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Lieutenant Klaven then spoke up, “Lieutenant Lief, I’d like a word with you outside.”
“Don’t go anywhere Erick,” John said as he opened the door, “You two, watch the idiot inside. You, get some pain meds for a broken rib. The damnedest thing happened.”
The marines smirked as they did what they were told. Lightning could be seen away in the distance. Klaven jogged down the sidewalk, he didn’t look happy.
“Sir, we cannot just let him go. Take a look at this.”
John took the data slate. He skimmed through it. A smile crossed John’s face. Then laughter came as he handed the data slate back to the lieutenant.
“Motherfucker. I knew I had seen that asshat someplace. Lieutenant, I wrote this fucking report,” John continued to smile, “Talk about a small fucking universe. Hey, is that gun loaded with knockout rounds?”
“It is," Klaven smiled as he dropped the magazine and racked the slide, then he handed the magazine and gun to John, "Here you go,”
John then walked over to the door, “Corporal Marco, move please.”
The marine turned and nodded. John raised and fired the gun in a flash. The dart struck him just under his right collarbone. His head fell forward and he began snoring loudly.
“Contact Naval Intelligence to pick this asshole up,” John sighed, “Please tell me we have his data.”
“We do sir.”
“Good. I’ll stay down here with the guards and oversee the handoff. This will be fun.”