Reapers: The Shadow Soldiers Page 13

  Looking back at his team through the mirror, he noticed that they didn’t much care about his frustrations. They didn’t seem to be fired up about anything, though he could tell that Carmen seemed to be thinking hard.

  “Got something on your mind, Carmen?” he asked. She looked at his reflection in the mirror as she tried to formulate her thoughts into words.

  “I—” she stumbled, “I think we should try to contact off-world,” she suggested. Brosi looked up.

  “How? The atmosphere will disrupt everything,” he reminded her.

  “I don’t know how. Don’t you have some sort of gadget or something?” she asked.

  Brosi rolled his eyes and grumbled back, “I’m not a magician, Carmen.”

  “Well, how were we supposed to notify that the cannon was down?” she asked.

  “We have flares,” he told her. She shrugged her shoulders.

  “So why don’t we shoot them up?”

  “And who’s going to be able to reach the surface with that cannon still online?” Brosi asked. She shook her head and looked at the bed floor.

  “I don’t know.” The truth was, they had nowhere to run with that cannon still operational. They either got it shut down, or they died here. They’d just have to figure out a way around it.

  The continuing monotony of snow forced Burns’ mind to think about possible workarounds. There had to be a way.

  He considered destroying the cannon. The ULC couldn’t fire a weapon that was reduced to ash. It could work, but it would take a lot of explosives. A lot. From what he had seen of the cannon, it seemed indomitable. Besides, it was a crucial part of life here on Silverset. Destroying it would probably not be in the best interest of the populace. He’d hate to save the planet only for it to become inhospitable.

  Another idea would be to overtake the cannon. The ULC may have stationed plenty of troops aboard, but he hadn’t seemed to have any problem with the troops in the village. The armor allowed him to easily take dozens of men alone. With his team, they might stand a chance. If they captured the cannon, then they could possibly hold it long enough for the Duchess to land. It was still risky. If they were to be defeated, Silverset may never be free. Besides, Brosi mentioned that it turned itself back on. It wasn’t just an alarm but also a rigged switch. Which begged the question: how did the ULC fire the cannon in the first place? If they disabled the main functions in favor of a trap, then where was their new trigger?

  Burns suddenly had a workable idea. He pushed down the brake of the truck until the vehicle came to a stop. He turned around and looked at Brosi.

  “When you were inside the cannon, did you notice any foreign additions to its control center?” Brosi shook his head.

  “Yeah, I actually got in through hacking an EUC the Collective placed,” he told Burns. Carmen shook her head.

  “What the hell is an EUC?” she asked broodingly. Brosi explained.

  “External Uplink Connector.” She still seemed confused though, so he elaborated a bit more. “It’s an attachment added to allow control of technology from off-site locations.”

  “So?” she asked, not seeing the full picture.

  “So,” Brosi went on, understanding Burns’ idea to the fullest, “if we find that off-site location, we can shut the cannon off without entering the weapon itself. We can avert the trap.” She then gained a light smirk.

  “Well, how do we find where it’s at?” she asked. Brosi didn’t know that answer, but Burns did have a clue.

  “Thinking strategically,” he began, “I’d source control to the most secure site on-planet.” Carmen raised a finger.

  “The Fort,” she proposed.

  “Huh?” Brosi murmured back, but Burns knew what she was talking about.

  “Fort Ledger,” he explained, “I used to hear my old man ranting on about it during his army days. It took the Dominion fleets nearly a year to conquer it.”

  “Then how did the ULC get in?” Brosi asked.

  “Treachery and deceit, as usual,” Burns grumbled. “Regardless, that’s probably the best place to control a weapon like that cannon.” The team nodded their heads in agreement, but one question still remained.

  “How do we get in?” Brosi asked. “I mean, we have neither the brute force of a Dominion landing party nor the cunning of a Collective infiltration team.” It was a good question but also a deflating one. Burns didn’t have an answer. It seemed they were back to square one.

  “The Survivors,” Carmen suddenly blurted out.

  “Who?” Burns asked.

  “The soldiers stationed here who weren’t killed during the ULC annexation. They’ve created a resistance and helped to free oppressed refugees.”

  “And you know this...how?” Brosi asked.

  “A villager mistook me for one of theirs. I have the coordinates of the latest camp,” she went on.

  “So you think these soldiers can help us with getting inside the Fort?” Burns asked. Carmen shrugged her shoulders.

  “Worth a try,” she grumbled back to him. “It couldn’t hurt to stop and ask. If anything, their camp would provide a safe place to plan out the attack.”

  “What are the coordinates?” Burns asked, implying that he was going for it. She pulled out a shred of ripped linen with the numbers inscribed and handed it to Burns. Grabbing it, he input the coordinates into his helmet’s map and soon another point was marked. Shifting the truck in to drive, he headed off.

  The situation wasn’t totally resolved, and Rhett was really gone, but this plan might actually work—and that was enough for Burns to keep fighting. He just hoped these Survivors would be able to help, or for that matter, were still alive.

  SURVIVORS

  Driving deeper into the mountain range, the altitude continued to rise; Burns could feel the air getting thinner. He also noticed that there seemed to be far less snow and ice in this region. Instead, he saw several canyons and crags. This only made the drive more perilous.

  Occasionally, the road got so thin that he thought they might drive straight off. He really didn’t know if he preferred the spinning wheels of driving on ice or the bumpy crashes of driving on rocks—both were equally treacherous. He pushed on nonetheless until his helmet’s display map told him to pull off to the side into what looked like a bare, open area. He complied and soon they came to a stop. It didn’t look like much, but maybe that was the point.

  “We’ve arrived,” Carmen said from the back.

  Burns looked around the mountainous point. It was gorgeous. They had risen just above the clouds and could see the large, orange sun sitting on top of them. However, this place was also dangerous if they had to make a run for it. It certainly wasn’t where you’d want to be if you were an underground resistance.

  “Are we sure this is the place?” Burns asked. Two men then appeared from the entrance of an old mine nearby, and his question was answered. They must have been Survivors, or at least Burns hoped they were.

  Both were wrapped in rough, cloak-type garb, which made it easier to conceal their identities—and their weapons. One of the men, who had several scars down his face, told the other to stand guard at the entrance. He then made his way toward the truck, reaching for a weapon as he did. Burns grabbed hold of his holstered, right submachine gun and clicked off the safety.

  “Sentry, coming at us. You better hope they aren’t ULC, Carmen,” he grumbled.

  “Trust me!” she exclaimed. The scarred man then reached the truck and knocked on Burns’ window. Burns took the hint and rolled the window down, gripping his weapon even tighter as he did.

  “You’ve got no business here. I suggest you turn back,” the man asserted in a thick accent.

  “Listen, we’re looking for the Survivors. Our coordinates brought us here,” Burns answered. The scarred man didn’t reply. Instead, he turned and motioned to the other man who was guarding the mine. That man shouted something into the mine and soon another man also appeared
from below. However, he wasn’t wearing a cloak, but instead the black tactical pants and gray undershirt of a typical Dominion soldier. This man stood sideways to conceal the fact that he had a pistol strapped to his leg. The scarred man looked back at Burns.

  “What’s in the back of this rig?” he asked.

  “Two of my team...plus a deceased,” Burns answered honestly. The man acknowledged and then disappeared around back to verify. Burns turned around and looked at his team.

  “Careful,” he urged as the man peeled open the back canvas and looked in. Burns looked forward again in order to avoid suspicion, though he continued to spy through the rearview mirror.

  The man took about a half minute to inspect each member. They both sat awkwardly still as he looked them up and down. He didn’t make any facial indications as to what he was thinking. Not for good or bad. After his partial inspection, the man closed the canvas. Apparently the inspection was over.

  Burns looked out his window, expecting the man to speak with him again, but instead he walked right past and headed toward the other two guards. It could have been that he was calling for reinforcements, so Burns kept his submachine gun at the ready.

  The man spoke to the guards in a foreign language, which Burns believed might have originated from the nearby planet of New Alban, but he wasn’t sure.

  He then disappeared back into the mine, leaving the two guards at the entrance. They seemed to be waiting on something—or someone.

  “What’s going on?” Carmen asked, but no one answered. Burns was completely focused on the guards and mine entrance. He held tightly onto his weapon, expecting a squad of ULC militants to come rushing out of the mine at any second. One of the guards may have been wearing Dominion fatigues, but that could have only been a disguise. It was never wrong to be too careful. Perhaps this used to be a Survivor’s camp but it had been cleaned out by the Collective and used as a trap for any wayward Dominion loyalists. Burns didn’t know for sure, but he was ready to fire off a shot the moment someone gave him an excuse to.

  He then noticed one of the guards was moving his fingers around like he was nervous of an impending figure. Sure enough, a bald, brawny man approached from the entrance of the mine. He and the scarred man looked to be arguing.

  “I told you to keep watch!” the brawny man shouted as they both walked toward the truck. “But what do I get? You doing an inspection for me—with only two guards!” he yelled. The scarred man cut in.

  “I figured it was best if you didn’t approach first—for morale.” Brawny stopped his approach and turned fully toward the scarred man.

  “Morale?” he restated. “You don’t think I can handle the morale of my own men?” The scarred man seemed to shake his head, regretting he had even mentioned the morale point. Brawny scoffed and then pointed. “Get back in that hole and do something useful for a change!” he ordered loudly. The scarred man acknowledged and then ran back inside the mine. Brawny sighed and then continued his approach toward the truck.

  “Sorry about all that,” he grumbled as he looked through Burns’ window—he seemed to do a half-second inspection himself. “I’m betting you’re the Reapers the ULC net’s been on about,” he concluded. The armor wasn’t very good at hiding in plain sight, that was for sure. Burns nodded back to the man, feeling relieved. From the gray tactical fatigues he wore, to the gruff accent he spoke in…Brawny was definitely Dominion, no doubt about it.

  “You’d be right,” Burns confirmed to the man. Brawny slightly bowed his head and then scanned around the mountain a bit.

  “You better not have led a trail to my camp,” he warned. Burns shook his head.

  “We were very careful,” he ensured.

  Brawny let out a deep breath and then motioned. “Why don’t you park that vehicle inside before someone sees us?” Burns bowed his head and then shifted gears and began driving forward into the open maw of the mine.

  The mine shaft was lit by only a single string of bulbs, which hung all the way down the rocky ceiling. The truck barely fit down the shaft, its headlights illuminating crags that hadn’t descended from the shadows for decades. Burns was just glad he wasn’t claustrophobic because this place was certainly nightmarish for someone who was.

  Pulling the truck off to the side at the request of some more cloaked soldiers, Burns entered a much larger section of the mine where several other vehicles were parked. Sliding in between two bulky, Vanquisher-class military trucks, Burns turned the key and killed the ignition. Without the truck’s grumble, the mine once again became still. Opening the door and stepping out, Burns held his wound a little as he watched the brawny man approach.

  “Some hideout you have here,” he called out to the man, sending his words to echo off the rough walls of the cavern. Brawny nodded in agreement as he reached Burns.

  “I only wish we didn’t have to hide,” he replied. He then saw the bloodied dressings around Burns’ torso. “Need medical attention?” he asked. Burns bowed his head as Brosi and Carmen leaped out of the back of the truck.

  “I think we all do, sir,” he replied. Brawny motioned for them to follow.

  “We have medics,” he told Burns.

  “I’m afraid it gets worse,” Burns explained. “We also have a casualty aboard.” The man’s strong face seemed to sink a little.

  “Something wrong, Alvarez?” Burns asked, noticing the name stitched on his chest.

  “Hearing the ULC scramble in fear of you has been the only thing to uplift my boys. If word gets out that one of you has bought the spruce, I don’t know if we can stave off a plummet in morale.”

  “Well, we can’t just throw his body down the side of the mountain,” Brosi added, gaining a look of ire from Alvarez.

  “What do you know?” he grumbled.

  “Listen,” Burns intervened, before Brosi had time to reply, “we’re going to give our guy the send-off he deserves. That’s an order.” Alvarez seemed to lean in a little.

  “I know you’re not a real colonel,” he murmured, “but I have no choice. Three of you is better than none,” he complied. Burns slightly bowed his head. He hated pulling rank on people, but he wasn’t going to let Alvarez slide Rhett down the cliff. He deserved better. They could mop up morale later. Pulling out a small comm device from his pocket and putting it up to his face, Alvarez made a call.

  “Attention, this is Lieutenant Alvarez.” He paused, looking into the bed of the truck. “We have a DOA, I repeat, D-O-A. Medical team, how copy?” Lowering the device, he waited for a response.

  Burns looked at the rough ground, trying to remember where he had heard the name Alvarez before. For some reason, it was really pressing on his mind. The medical team then piped up, which brought Burns out of his thoughts to listen in.

  “Copy, Lieutenant. We’ll send someone for the deceased. Med-bay out.” Alvarez nodded and then pocketed the comm device.

  “This way,” he motioned as he walked forward once more. This time Burns and the others followed him. Despite his wound, Burns caught up with the man.

  “I know this might be pushing it, but would you mind a little ceremony for the man?” he requested. “I’m not asking for anything spectacular, just—something.” Alvarez shook his head, seemingly defeated.

  “Fine,” he grumbled, “we can figure something out.” Burns bowed his head slightly.

  “Thanks, that’s all I ask. He was neglected for so long just because he was a good soldier. He deserves this.” Alvarez seemed irritated.

  “I said I would figure something out—I didn’t ask for the backstory,” he grumbled as he continued walking.

  From Alvarez’s inhibitions, Burns could tell that those on Silverset had taken a hit. The Survivors’ bodies may be unharmed, but their spirits were crushed. The horrors they’d seen…they might just rival the nightmares in Burns’ memories.

  The four soon exited the motor pool. Entering a small metal lift, which Burns thought of as a cage, they descended slowly i
nto the bowels of the mine. The descent seemed to take an eternity, and sometimes the lift wasn’t even lit. Burns felt bad for the miners who had to do this on a daily basis. It must have been hell having to live your life in this compressing darkness.

  Eventually, they reached crosscut two and the cage opened.

  This crosscut was lit like the entrance, with the dim lights strung across the rough ceiling. Only, it appeared to house a number more people. They walked to and fro, some entering the lift and some resting in the narrow halls. They didn’t look to be miners or soldiers but instead civilians.

  Burns assumed these were the ones who’d escaped ULC persecution. It was a shame their only options at this point were death or darkness.

  After a short stint down the damp shaft, the team was finally led to the medical bay. It wasn’t the most impressive med-bay Burns had ever witnessed. It was little more than a carved out cave stocked with a couple beds and about a dozen counts of assorted medical equipment. Plus the crew themselves. Despite appearances, however, the work done was nothing to complain about.

  The crew redressed Burns’ wounds without much trouble at all and did what they could for the others. Brosi had a few scrapes and bangs, and Carmen was mostly intact.

  Alvarez had stayed with them in the med-bay, which Burns found a bit odd, but it could be useful. Everyone here seemed to listen to him, so he was the man you talked to when you had plans.

  “So, what do you know about Fort Ledger?” Burns asked. Alvarez scoffed.

  “Why? You thinking of taking it on?” he asked sardonically. Burns nodded back.

  “Yeah.”

  Alvarez seemed to find this humorous, but Burns was completely serious. The man soon realized this and became serious too.

  “Ah,” he grumbled, “you think that because we have this camp here, we’re some sort of army? You came to ask us to help you on your quest.” Burns remained calm—he knew this was going to be an upward battle. The man wasn’t his biggest fan.