The Firing Line

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The Firing Line - book excerpt

(Day 1)

The hologram that hovered in the middle of Project Resilient’s control room was an extreme closeup of a guy that Jack could only describe as a typical news-bro. Everyone knew the type: clean-cut, polished with a strong jawline and eyes that seemed to drill right into your skull. This one was pale with just a touch of gray in his dark hair.

Of course, he wore the Leyrian version of a suit – which, in this case, was a jacket and shirt with a collar that went right to his chin. Cultural differences aside, some things remained the same anywhere you went. On any planet in this galaxy, if there was a man who spent his days spouting platitudes into a camera, he inevitably looked like this.

“Good evening,” the man said. “I’m Jarid Ponorsi, and tonight, we bring you more updates on the terrorist activities of former Justice Keeper Jack Hunter.”

There had been no “terrorist activity” of any kind since that very first raid on the Vondrai facility. Jack had a hard time imagining what those “updates'' could possibly be, but then this wasn’t really news. It was infotainment.

The camera zoomed out to reveal a large studio with all kinds of monitors and some kind of prismatic floor. The skyline of a city was visible in the background. Jack couldn’t say which one. Not Denabria.

The image changed to a split-screen of Jarid and a woman in a pink suit. She was tall with short, red hair and a cleft chin. If Jack had to guess, he would say she was about the same age as his mother.

“Dr. Mazari Kestral joins us from the University of Alika,” Jarid said. “Doctor, I’m told that you have a somewhat unorthodox theory as to Hunter’s motivations.”

The woman nodded. “I do indeed, Jarid,” she replied. “Given his recent testimony in the trial of Cassiara Seyrus and his experience with what many have dubbed ‘The Torture Virus,’ I believe it is reasonable to conclude that Jack Hunter has suffered a psychotic break and that this is the reason for his decision to turn against his former friends and allies.”

Reclining in a chair with his feet propped up on the table, Jack smiled as he lifted a mug of hot chocolate. “I make my living on the evening news,” he murmured. “Just give me something, something I can use.”

(Day 3)

“Hurry! Hurry!” Jack said as he guided a caravan of some fifty recently-freed prisoners through a corridor that was shaped like a pentagon. Most of them wore ratty, sweat-stained clothes, and they smelled like they hadn’t showered in days. Which, they hadn’t. Because this place was a concentration camp.

A young man in a brown t-shirt came rushing up to him. This poor guy was tall with tanned skin and a scraggly beard. He looked as though he hadn’t eaten in days. “I overheard them talking,” he panted. “They remember what you did last time. The Gate Room will be heavily guarded.”

Forcing a smile, Jack bowed his head to the other man. “That’s why we’re not going to the Gate Room,” he promised. “Just trust me.”

He ushered his charges into a large storage room where they had to maneuver around crates. He had been careful in his selection of an escape route. Sun had been willing to do a little impromptu hacking with her LIS clearance. How she covered her tracks, he couldn’t say, but he trusted her.

The escapees found Cassi squatting next to a trapdoor that led down to a service tunnel. “Hurry,” she said, gesturing to the ladder. “Quickly now.”

Jack didn’t bother with the rungs.

He dropped through the opening and landed crouched in a narrow space with black walls. Naked bulbs in the ceiling kept the darkness at bay.

Rising smoothly, he strode forward with confidence. “How we doing down here?” he asked. “Having any trouble controlling that thing?”

Harry stood in the middle of the tunnel with a folded-up sheet of veiny flesh at his feet. “Of course not.” He waved his hand over the device, and it stretched, contorting into the shape of a triangle that nearly brushed the ceiling. It seemed to hold that shape, though Jack wasn’t sure if Harry was actively doing anything. “Send the first batch to me.”

As he turned to go, Jack heard a sharp buzz in his right ear. “If you’re not too busy,” Arin said over the comms. “We’re encountering some resistance on Level Two.”

Tapping his earpiece with two fingers, Jack smiled as he marched through the tunnel. “On my way,” he said. “Save a few for me.”

(Day 4)

“I think it’s obvious!” Mina Torida declared.

She was a bubbly blonde who reminded Jack very much of an angry chipmunk. It was something in the way she spoke: high-pitched, a bit nasal and loud enough to drown out anyone else in the room.

At the moment, she sat behind a glass table in Jarid Ponorsi’s studio, and she looked like she wanted to bite through steel. “Our teams found the SlipGate that Hunter left in that service tunnel,” she went on. “It was organic, and it disintegrated only minutes after we took it into custody. Just like the one he used outside Keeper HQ. Now, where have we seen such tech before?”

Jarid was seated across from her, nodding along with everything she said. “I hear you,” he replied cautiously. “But do you really believe that Hunter would ally himself with the man who infected him with the Torture Virus?”

Sitting primly with her hands folded on the table, Mina leaned in close to stare into his eyes. “I question whether Hunter was really infected with that virus,” she answered. “Or indeed whether this virus even exists. So far, its only victims were a pair of traitors. And the organic SlipGates make it clear that Jack Hunter must be working with Grecken Slade. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

Jack sensed it when Cassi entered the mess hall through the door behind him. She crossed the room in three quick strides, then stood with one hand on her hip, smiling as she watched the lively debate playing out. “What are you watching?”

“The bubble-headed, bleach-blonde,” Jack answered. “She comes on at five.”

“Is it just me, or do you actually like hearing people trash-talk you?”

Slouching in his chair, Jack folded his hands behind his head and smiled up at the ceiling. “It provides me with a sense of stability.”

Cassi hopped onto one of the gray, plastic tables, gripping the edge with both hands and hunching up her shoulders. “We’ve got a bit of a situation,” she said nervously. “And I think we’re gonna need your input.”

“My input?”

“Well, you are in charge.”

Five minutes later, he was in the hallway outside the gym, a place that always seemed a bit chaotic to him as one wall was gray duroplastic, and the other was red rock. Little flecks of dust danced under the ceiling lights.

The man who greeted him was tall and built like a football player, a veritable tank on legs. He was a handsome fellow with a strong chin, an olive complexion and brown hair that he kept short and neat. “Lance Corporal Pedro Hernandez, sir,” he said, saluting. “United States Marine Corps.”

Jack returned the salute – poorly, he suspected – and offered a sheepish grin. “At ease…Corporal.” He had almost called the other man a soldier. “What can I do for you?”

“I had lost a foot in Syria, sir,” Pedro explained. He was standing on two feet right now, but Jack chose not to comment on that. “Road-side mine. Had some nasty PTSD after that. I came here two years ago because they told me that Leyrian medical science could heal my body and my mind.”

Jack winced, falling back against the wall behind him. “And then they threw you in the hell hole,” he growled. “Like they wanted to undo all the progress you made.”

There was an earnest adulation in Pedro’s eyes. “You got me out of there, sir,” he said. “Your people have been talking about helping me transition. Maybe getting me a new ID so that Dusep’s goons can’t find me.”

“That’s the plan,” Jack replied. “Sorry, I’d let you stay here, but we’re low on space.”

“That’s just it, sir,” Pedro insisted. “I think I could be of some use to you. I don’t want to just move on, go into hiding. Those sons of bitches threw me into a pit, and I want to make sure they can’t do the same to anybody else.

“You’ve got a strike team, I know. But eight of you against dozens – maybe even hundreds of trained security personnel…Sooner or later, you’re gonna run into a situation you can’t get out of. Even if you are Justice Keepers and mind-readers and Boba Fett.”

Jack chuckled.

Blushing, Pedro lowered his eyes. “I’d have gone with ‘Iron Man,’” he said with a shrug. “But your pal there seems a bit too bloodthirsty for Tony Stark.”

“I like you, Corporal. So, what are you offering?”

Pedro looked nervous, glancing this way and that. “Well, I’ve been talking it over with some of the others. The government started rounding up every foreigner on this planet. We’ve got a former Antauran commando, a couple guys from the Fringe and at least two dozen people who are willing to be trained. We want to support you, sir. Imagine showing up at one of those bases with an army at your back.”

It was tempting. Truth be told, Jack had been contemplating this very issue just this morning. His team was good, but it was only a matter of time before Dusep’s minions figured out how to counter their tactics. A larger fighting force would come in handy. But there was one major issue.

Jack leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a heavy sigh escaping him. “Pedro,” he began. “You’ve already been through hell. You’ve given enough for one lifetime. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to go into battle again.”

“Permission to speak candidly, sir?”

“You don’t need my permission to-”

Pedro stepped forward, meeting Jack’s eyes. “When I enlisted, they told me I’d be fighting to protect innocent people,” he said. “But the only thing I was fighting for was some billionaire’s chance to build some pipeline. This…This would be fighting to save real people!”

The poor fellow grimaced, shaking his head. “If you don’t want me, sir,” he said. “Well, I guess I understand. But I’m willing to do this if-”

“Pedro.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’d be happy to have your help,” Jack said. “Speak to my friend Novol. The two of you can develop a training regimen for anyone who wants to learn. And put the word out. Anyone who wants to help us liberate the detainees is welcome to join up!”

(Day 6)

The cave mouth was a black hole in the side of a gray-stone cliff. Damp air seemed to radiate from it along with a musty scent that Jack couldn’t identify. He couldn’t see much of anything, but Spatial Awareness told him that a narrow passageway went on for maybe twenty feet before opening into a wider chamber.

An overcast sky loomed overhead, bringing with it the damp chill of a spring morning in Leyria’s sub-arctic regions. Behind him, the rocky hill sloped down to a field of brown grass that seemed to go on forever.

Bent over with his hands on his knees, Jack frowned as he peered into the darkness. “You sure this’ll work?” he asked. “I mean…those walls look pretty thick. How are we supposed to get a signal out?”

In black pants and a thick coat, Sun leaned against the rock wall with a tablet held up in front of her face. “You’re still thinking like an Earther,” she said. “Send the signal through SlipSpace. Minimal interference.”

He nodded.

“Look, this guy could be a potential ally.”

Jack stood straight, heaving out a sigh, and then began his trek into the depths of the cave. “Or it could be a trap,” he replied. “Remind me again why I thought being a freedom fighter was a good idea?”

Sun followed him in.

She should have been a silhouette against the daylight outside, but Spatial Awareness painted her face in full colour. And he could tell that she was scowling. “Hence why we do this out here…in the middle of nowhere,” she said. “If they trace the signal, we’re gone before the shuttles show up.”

Turning to look over his shoulder, Jack felt his mouth tighten. “You sure you want to be here for this?” he asked. “You didn’t ask for a pack of fugitives to show up on your doorstep. I think you’ve done enough.”

It surprised him when she chuckled. Somehow, the question had turned her scowl into a smile. “Happy to help,” she said. “Someone’s got to tell you if they do try to trace the call.”

The inner chamber was almost pitch black, but Jack could sense the contours of every wall. There was a small lump in the floor. That seemed to be as good a place as any. He took position.

A few taps at his multi-tool initiated the call, and then a hologram rippled into existence. Jack found himself looking at a man of average height who gave off a young Manny Jacinto vibe. “Lieutenant Sinosa?” he said.

The other man looked over his shoulder as if checking to see if anyone was coming up behind him and then returned his attention to Jack. “Agent Hunter,” he said. “Thanks for meeting with me.”

“What’s this about?”

“I want to join you.”

Jack felt creases lining his brow. “You want to be a fugitive,” he said, stepping forward. “Forgive me, but I’m gonna need a show of good faith before we discuss any formal arrangements.”

Lieutenant Sinosa shut his eyes, trembling, and then nodded as if he had expected exactly that. “I know,” he said. “And I can do it. I work security at Fort Obram. We have over one hundred fifty detainees here and more arriving every day.”

“So, what are you planning?”

“I’m going to free them.”

Crossing his arms, Jack cocked his head and answered the man with a raised eyebrow. “Well,” he said. “That would be impressive.”

“I can do it.”

“And we can help you.”

“Sir?”

Turning away from the hologram, Jack clasped his hands behind his back and paced to the cave wall. “My team attacks Fort Zadrak,” he began. “If we make enough of a fuss, they’ll start bringing in reinforcements from other bases. That should give you a chance to free the prisoners at Fort Obram.”

He couldn’t sense the hologram – it wasn’t solid – but the apprehension in Sinosa’s voice was unmistakable. “Be careful, sir,” the man said. “We received a new shipment of security drones yesterday. I couldn’t get much of a look at them, but they’re not like any I’ve seen before.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Jack said. “We’ll be in touch.”

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust when the hologram vanished, but he could see the outline of Sun waiting for him in the tunnel. “You know you can’t give him the Gate address for Project Resilient, right?” she asked. “For all we know, those ‘prisoners’ he intends to free are actually a team of commandos coming to wipe us out.”

“That’s why he won’t be coming to Project Resilient.”

“Then where will you be sending them?”

Jack shrugged, then grinned as he looked around the cave. “Right here seems good enough,” he said. “We find an area big enough to hold a SlipGate, and we use that to bring the people through.”

“And then…How do we know these prisoners are who they say they are?”

“Good thing I have a telepath on staff,” Jack replied. “Those we can verify come back with us. If anyone turns out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing…”

“Yes?”

“Stun ’em,” Jack said. “Leave ’em here.”