STARLINER by David Drake

Babanguida chuckled. “Don’t you worry yourself, sir,” he said. “We figure, when this is over, there’s likely to be something laying around that the owners don’t need.”

“Mind,” Mohacks added, “a suitable gratuity wouldn’t be misplaced at the end of this—if you keep from getting your head blown off, sir.”

“Streseman,” Wanda said harshly, “get into your jacket. We’ll be using passive infra-red goggles at the start. The insulating fabric will give us a lower thermal signature so that we’ll be able to tell each other apart from the locals.”

Ran quickly stood and pulled his own shirt over his white uniform. He didn’t need the tic in Wanda’s cheek or the unexpected sharpness of her tone to tell him that she was right on the edge. They all were, even the seemingly relaxed ratings.

“We don’t have any information about the layout of the ranch,” Ran said. “Calicheman doesn’t have a government that keeps records like that. We’ve got the exact location the phone calls are coming from. With luck, that’s spitting distance of where Oanh is being held. We don’t know that.”

He took a deep breath. The other four members of the team—not really his team, any more than the fingers belonged to the hand—watched him soberly. Each held a submachine gun and a pouch of extra magazines from the ship’s arsenal.

“Mohacks stays with the boat,” Ran continued. “The rest of us hit them fast and get out fast with the girl. Chances are they don’t have weapons that’ll penetrate a lifeboat’s plating, but we don’t know that for sure either. We’ve all got helmet links, but try to keep your mouth shut unless you’ve got something that needs to be said. Any last questions?”

“One thing,” said Franz Streseman. He didn’t look young any more. “You are all brave, and no doubt you have weapons training. I am the soldier here, however.”

He surveyed his four older companions. “Shoot first, shoot to kill,” he said coldly. “Don’t threaten and don’t hesitate. It may be that Oanh will be mistaken for an opponent. I myself may mistake her for an opponent.”

Ran hadn’t seen anything as bleak as the young Grantholmer’s expression since he faced the Cold Crew in Taskerville.

“I say to you,” Franz continued, “it is better that Oanh die than that she remain alive in the hands of these folk. I know them, I know their type. She is not human to them. We must not hesitate.”

Wanda Holly licked her lips. “And on that cheerful note,” she said, “I think it’s time to go.”

She glanced at the others, then added, “Good luck, fellows. We may all be crazy, but I’m damned glad I know people like you.”

“Lift-off,” said Mohacks as he engaged the controls. A fireball belched across the prairie. Grass had ignited in the flux of the magnetic motors thrusting the lifeboat up again at a flat angle.

* * *

“Three buildings,” Mohacks announced as the terrain came up on his display. This was a lifeboat, not an attack vessel. There weren’t any connections to export data from the pilot’s console to those braced in the craft’s cargo bay. “Looks like a barracks and a big garage across from the boss’s house.”

The lifeboat rocked and bucked, though 700 kph wasn’t as bad in the tubular hull as it would have been in a conventional aircraft whose wingspan would lever turbulence into a hammering. The little vessel had an excellent passenger restraint system, but it wasn’t equipped with the quick releases necessary for an assault force. Ran and his three companions wore their weapons slung tight to their chests while they gripped and pressed their boots against stanchions.

“Set us—”Ran began.

“I’m going to set us down in the middle, so the boat’s between the barracks and the house,” Mohacks continued calmly. “Hang on, I’m going to swing to bring the hatch facing the house.”

“Babanguida, watch the barracks,” Ran said. “You other two, in the house while I cover you.”

Somebody had to do the former job, and Ran knew damned well that neither Wanda nor Franz would accept the order. Wanda was senior to him, and the kid was both a civilian and—as he’d pointed out—the only one of them who’d been trained for this sort of business.

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