he was disappointed to find they had no audio or visual feeds into the building.
“Suspect is using his comms gear,” came the voice of his contact on the inside.
“Understood,” said Johnson quietly.
The team had been waiting for over an hour for this meeting to take place. With the trouble on Prime threatening to travel off-world the success of their mission was even more critical. Johnson was busy thinking about the many different permutations of what was going on when a small black car arrived. It was unmarked and as it stopped outside the building another pulled up behind it. Johnson whispered into his headset.
“Wait, all units hold position.”
The door opened and out stepped four men in black suits. They looked like the usual thugs the criminal groups in the city used, but they could equally be legitimate bodyguards for an important dignitary. Three more men exited the second vehicle, each one looked just the same as the previous four. The group spread out, two stayed with the car and the other five moved out to key areas on the street.
“Crap!” muttered Johnson to himself.
As the men fanned out another two people emerged from the second car, one was a man in a light grey business suit, the second a woman wearing an evening dress. The two walked the short distance from the car to the entrance of the bar and went inside.
“Sir, message from Fleet for you,” said one of the men as he handed over his communication link.
Johnson lifted the headpiece and tapped the decrypt key on the handset. A series of tones came down the line as the connection was authenticated from his headquarters in the city.
“Special Agent Johnson, this is a recorded message from Admiral Jarvis. Intelligence obtained from the Titan Naval Station indicates several cells on Kerberos. We suspect possible planetary government collusion. I have attached identity ciphers for cleared personnel. Do not share the intelligence you discover on your operation with anyone outside of this circle. Report back to me when you have news, good luck,” the voice crackled and then repeated the message.
Johnson looked down at the communication unit and the identity keys it displayed. He pulled out his field datapad, a smaller device than the standard models used in offices, copying the data over. As soon as it completed the recorded message and data associated with it, it was automatically deleted. He removed the headset and handed it back to the security officer.
“Are we going in?” asked one of the officers.
Johnson lifted his hand to signal for them not to move before speaking quietly over the radio system.
“No, we don’t move till we get the word from our contact inside,” he said firmly before turning back to the surveillance of the building.
“Nobody moves until I give the word!”
* * *
The great hulk of the CCS Crusader pushed on into orbit around Kerberos. Some of her weapon systems were now functional but switched off to conserve power. The last attempt to activate them had shorted out two decks and triggered a series of blasts that took four hours to contain. Most of the bridge staff was helping engineering sections throughout the vessel as they tried to keep the almost crippled vessel in one piece.
On the bridge of the ship Commander Anderson stared out through the virtual windows to survey the planet below. Kerberos was an odd place, a mix of industry, crime and religion. It should have been the perfect place, but money and greed had corrupted the planet more quickly than any had ever expected. It was still a mighty workshop capable of producing anything from computers to starship engines. A small group of gunboats rushed past as they made their way to an unknown objective. He noticed the weapons covering the small craft. They were mighty and just one could cause a real problem to even a warship if given the chance.
Lieutenant Nilsson slammed her hand onto her communication terminal before realising the rest of the
“Suspect is using his comms gear,” came the voice of his contact on the inside.
“Understood,” said Johnson quietly.
The team had been waiting for over an hour for this meeting to take place. With the trouble on Prime threatening to travel off-world the success of their mission was even more critical. Johnson was busy thinking about the many different permutations of what was going on when a small black car arrived. It was unmarked and as it stopped outside the building another pulled up behind it. Johnson whispered into his headset.
“Wait, all units hold position.”
The door opened and out stepped four men in black suits. They looked like the usual thugs the criminal groups in the city used, but they could equally be legitimate bodyguards for an important dignitary. Three more men exited the second vehicle, each one looked just the same as the previous four. The group spread out, two stayed with the car and the other five moved out to key areas on the street.
“Crap!” muttered Johnson to himself.
As the men fanned out another two people emerged from the second car, one was a man in a light grey business suit, the second a woman wearing an evening dress. The two walked the short distance from the car to the entrance of the bar and went inside.
“Sir, message from Fleet for you,” said one of the men as he handed over his communication link.
Johnson lifted the headpiece and tapped the decrypt key on the handset. A series of tones came down the line as the connection was authenticated from his headquarters in the city.
“Special Agent Johnson, this is a recorded message from Admiral Jarvis. Intelligence obtained from the Titan Naval Station indicates several cells on Kerberos. We suspect possible planetary government collusion. I have attached identity ciphers for cleared personnel. Do not share the intelligence you discover on your operation with anyone outside of this circle. Report back to me when you have news, good luck,” the voice crackled and then repeated the message.
Johnson looked down at the communication unit and the identity keys it displayed. He pulled out his field datapad, a smaller device than the standard models used in offices, copying the data over. As soon as it completed the recorded message and data associated with it, it was automatically deleted. He removed the headset and handed it back to the security officer.
“Are we going in?” asked one of the officers.
Johnson lifted his hand to signal for them not to move before speaking quietly over the radio system.
“No, we don’t move till we get the word from our contact inside,” he said firmly before turning back to the surveillance of the building.
“Nobody moves until I give the word!”
* * *
The great hulk of the CCS Crusader pushed on into orbit around Kerberos. Some of her weapon systems were now functional but switched off to conserve power. The last attempt to activate them had shorted out two decks and triggered a series of blasts that took four hours to contain. Most of the bridge staff was helping engineering sections throughout the vessel as they tried to keep the almost crippled vessel in one piece.
On the bridge of the ship Commander Anderson stared out through the virtual windows to survey the planet below. Kerberos was an odd place, a mix of industry, crime and religion. It should have been the perfect place, but money and greed had corrupted the planet more quickly than any had ever expected. It was still a mighty workshop capable of producing anything from computers to starship engines. A small group of gunboats rushed past as they made their way to an unknown objective. He noticed the weapons covering the small craft. They were mighty and just one could cause a real problem to even a warship if given the chance.
Lieutenant Nilsson slammed her hand onto her communication terminal before realising the rest of the
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