Bandits Engaged (Battlegroup Z Book 4) by Daniel Gibbs (classic literature list .txt) 📗

platoon leaders congregated virtually. “Warrant, can you hear me?”

“Lima Charlie, Major.”

“Preflight complete?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tehrani spoke on the active channel. “This is Zvika Greengold actual to Major Nishimura.”

“Go ahead, ma’am,” he replied.

“Battle space is clear enough for you to launch. Your target is Master One. Capture her and as many of the crew as possible. Take no undue risks to your Marines. Do I make myself clear, Major?”

“Crystal, ma’am.” Nishimura already didn’t like using stun rounds on clearly hostile military-aged personnel engaging in active combat. That they were criminals added insult to injury. Some people just needed to be put down. The pirates fit the description, as far as he was concerned.

“Allow me to second that, Major.” A new voice cut into the discussion.

Tehrani began, “Agent Grant—”

“I felt the need to underline the capture portion of this mission. If you’re anything like me, Major, you will want to kill every last one of them. Please, don’t succumb to the impulse.”

Nishimura had heard Tehrani and Wright discussing the CIS spook. They had low opinions of him and even lower thoughts on the man’s morality in war. It offended Nishimura to be compared in such a manner. “We’re all clear on our orders, Agent.” He nearly bit his tongue off to avoid a string of oaths. I do not take orders from a civilian. “Permission to get underway, ma’am?”

“Granted, Major. Good hunting and Godspeed.”

“Godspeed to you, too, ma’am.”

The commlink clicked off. Nishimura turned to O’Connor as he strapped in next to him. “Squared away, Master Guns?”

“You know it, sir. Did you see that plasma cannon? Those CIS spooks had a few lying around.”

Nishimura’s eyes widened. Plasma cannons were Saurian weapons—overpowered and deadly weapons, at that. “I wonder where they got them from.”

“Beats me, sir. But they’re good at melting bulkheads quickly, which is why we’ve got them.” O’Connor displayed a toothy grin. “I was very specific with the kids I issued them to… not to use them on people.”

“Launching in thirty seconds,” the pilot cut in through the intercom. “Ensure your tray tables are in the upright and locked position, and please keep all appendages inside the ride until we come to a complete and total stop. Thank you for flying Marine Transport, provided by the Coalition Defense Force.”

The Marines flung out groans, boos, hisses, and a few curse words in response.

Damn CDFers, always thinking they’re our taxi service. Nishimura grumbled good-naturedly. Marines and squids had had the same litany of insults for hundreds, probably thousands of years. “Okay, boys, let’s go get ourselves some pirates!”

10

No sooner had Justin finally accelerated out of his Sabre’s uncontrolled tumble than the inbound-missile warning buzzer blared. Dammit. His eyes flicked to the HUD scanner. Heat seekers. Great. Justin sent half a dozen plasma flares into the void then reversed his course in a classic Immelmann maneuver.

“Alpha One to any friendlies. Multiple bandits on my six.”

The newly arrived pirate corvette had launched more small craft into the fray, though they were still a few minutes out.

“I’m on the way, sir,” Feldstein replied. “Any damage from the EMP? We saw you spin out of control.”

“Singed electronics. Nothing major.” A small miracle, really.

Justin tracked the two hostile fighters on his sensor screen. They’d adjusted to his course and pursued at max thrust. He applied reverse thrusters and slowed his Sabre dramatically, causing both enemies to overshoot suddenly. Without missing a beat, Justin pulled up on his flight stick and accelerated rapidly. He maneuvered up and rolled behind one of the pirate craft as it looped around to attempt a reengage.

Alpha, Mike, Foxtrot. Justin squeezed the trigger for his miniature neutron cannons, sending dozens of blue energy bolts into the void. Enough connected to weaken the aft shields of the pirate craft before it rolled away. Damn, they’re tough. Thinking on his feet, Justin toggled the stores selector to heat-seeking missiles. “Alpha One, fox two.” Two Eagles dropped into the void and accelerated as he poured on the neutron-cannon fire.

A few moments later, Justin was rewarded with a large explosion as the hostile craft blew apart. “Alpha One, splash one.” Now, where’d the other one go?

The missile-lock-on alarm buzzed insistently. Justin’s scanner showed the enemy directly behind him. Well, at least I don’t have to go too far to reengage.

“Alpha Two to Alpha One. Break left relative, sir, and slow down. I’m lining up a guns solution.”

“Acknowledged, Alpha Two,” Justin replied. I hope to heck Feldstein has this timed right. His craft rolled away as he adjusted the heading and used the inertial damping system to kill his forward speed.

Multiple plasma balls slammed into Justin’s aft shielding before the pirate craft overshot, only to run straight into a buzzsaw of neutron-cannon fire from Feldstein’s Sabre. Added to the mix were multiple LIDAR-tracking missiles. The heavy fighter took extreme damage before its pilot ejected, and it exploded a few moments later.

“Alpha Two, splash one.”

Justin let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Feldstein.”

“Anytime, sir.”

“Beta Three declaring an emergency! Master alarm lit, ejec—”

The mayday call from the Boar pilot caused Justin to check his squadron-readiness readout. The icon representing Beta Three turned red, and the life-signs detector on its pilot flatlined. He bit his lip, knowing he had no time to grieve or even think about the loss beyond thinking it could’ve been him.

Justin gritted his teeth and cued the commlink. “Alpha, Beta, form up. We’re too spread out. Marine stealth pods are launching, and another wave of bandits is incoming. We’re going to make them pay.”

“Music to my ears, Alpha One,” Green replied. “You heard the man. Form up on Alpha One.”

Justin accelerated toward the Boars and the rest of his flight element. It was time to finish the job.

While the stealth breaching pod was not the most comfortable ride, Nishimura felt thankful to be in it. With the enhanced point-defense capabilities of the pirate corvette, the coating on the pod—the same material as on SFS-4 Ghost recon fighters—rendered them almost invisible to sensors. Perhaps if all the tactical officer