Grendel Unit 2: Ignition Sequence Read online

  Previously in Grendel Unit

  They are the universe's most dangerous operatives. A covert group of military specialists who take on the hardest targets and never miss. Now, their team has been dismantled by the dangerous political maneuverings of their commanding officer, General Milner.

  Captain Vic Cojo and the massive mantipor known as Monster have been captured and imprisoned. Lieutenant Frank Kelly, the crew's First Officer and tactical medic, now on trial as a potential conspirator, is facing the same fate as his former teammates. And worst of all, Yultorot, the religious fanatic who blew up an elementary school, is now working for Unification as an intelligence asset.

  Things have never looked darker for the Grendels.

  Prepare for ignition.

  Grendel Unit 2

  Ignition Sequence

  Bernard Schaffer

  Contents

  No Vaseline

  Shut Up, Be Happy

  When Will They Shoot?

  New Jack Hustler

  You Can't Fade Me

  Body Count's in the House

  Kill at Will

  There Goes the Neighborhood

  About the Author

  Copyright

  NOW

  No Vaseline

  The inquisitors surrounding the upper tiers along the Grand Hall loomed over the man seated by himself in the center of the room. Their elevated platforms were so high above the prisoner that he had to crane his neck to see who was speaking to him. Seated directly in front of him was the tribunal's Chief Judge. A stern-looking, older man, dressed in a long black robe, the judge twirled his gavel with his fingers as the inquisitors each took turns interrogating Lieutenant Frank Kelly about the events on Khor-wa.

  General Milner was seated to Frank's far right, surrounded by a dozen uniformed officers who, like himself, hadn't seen actual combat in decades. Their uniforms were pinned with so many medals there was no way to tell the color of their tunics any longer. Every time Frank opened his mouth to speak, he caught a glimpse of the General stiffening involuntarily. The man was bracing himself for whatever was about to come flying out of Frank's mouth next.

  One of the inquisitors, an older Army Colonel, leaned forward and said, "The only question that truly matters, Lieutenant Kelly, is whether you were a conspirator in Captain Victor Cojo's criminal acts, or a hapless witness."

  Frank turned to look at the older man and said, "I'm a member of Grendel Unit, sir. The tactical medic for a very small, very elite group of operatives who go into places men like you want to send us, but don't want anyone to know about. We do the things that people like every single one of you in this room deem to be necessary, as long as no one ever finds out." Frank glared at the faces looking down at him and said, "If you're asking me whether I'd prefer being called a criminal or hapless, I'd prefer criminal. Where I come from, honor still means something."

  There were murmurs among the officers at Frank's insolent response, but the judge's hand reaching for his gavel was enough to quiet them. The judge leaned forward in his seat as he regarded Frank for a long while, before he finally said, "I knew your father, Judge Kelly, young man. We served on the bench together and he always spoke of you with great pride. It's in his memory that I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you don't want to be thrown into prison for contempt of court."

  "My father spoke of you often, as well, sir," Frank said. It was, of course, an absolute lie, but Frank figured every little bit helped.

  The judge smiled slightly as if he were warmed by the idea, then said, "Perhaps I can rephrase the inquisitors question in a way that does not seem so insulting, yes? In terms of any illegal or unauthorized activity that your commanding officer, Captain Victor Cojo, conducted on the planet Khor-wa, were you a witness or a conspirator?"

  "I was a conspirator," Frank said.

  There was an outbreak of discussion among the officers at that point and the judge did have to raise his gavel and call them to order. Before the judge could speak again, Frank raised his voice and called out, "I was an active participant in every detail of our last mission, so how can I be anything but a conspirator, sir? However, I should add that at the time I did not know of any illegal or unauthorized activity. I was always under the impression that the Captain was acting on orders from General Milner."

  All eyes turned to the General, whose puffy face turned red at the sudden attention. "Well, he absolutely was not," Milner hissed, just loud enough for the others to hear.

  The judge placed the tips of his fingers against the side of his temple and leaned to his side, saying, "You were present at the Andoho-Sky elementary school terrorist attack, isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

  "Yes, sir," Frank said.

  "You saw the bodies of the women and children murdered by fanatics who do not agree with Unification, isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

  "Yes," Frank said stiffly. A hundred images flooded through his mind, but he steeled himself against them and kept still.

  "You received qualified intelligence that a Sapienist named Yultorot blew up that school and were on his trail when General Milner ordered you to let him go, isn't that right, Lieutenant?"

  "No, your honor. That is incorrect," Frank said. A dozen inquisitors hurled out challenges to him, and Frank added, "It is incorrect because Yultorot is not a Sapienist. He is a religious fanatic who thinks humans are the superior life form and he is willing to kill anyone, even children, who believe otherwise. It is his religion." He turned and aimed his words directly at General Milner, "Yultorot is a fanatical terrorist who will stop at nothing to destroy Unification. I would like to go on record and say I am greatly alarmed to find out that he is now employed as an intelligence asset by General Milner."

  Hatred bubbled in the general's eyes as the men around him all turned and looked in his direction. The judge tapped his gavel and said, "You are the one being questioned here today, Lieutenant. Not the general. It is your neck on the line, Mr. Kelly."

  "I understand that, sir," Frank nodded.

  "I was on the bench when your other crewmates testified, Lieutenant Kelly. The big, furry, one, a mantipor, I think? What is his name?"

  "We call him Monster," Frank said.

  "He did not have much to say."

  "Get to know him a little, your honor. He never shuts up," Frank said, flashing a quick smile that made several of the inquisitors laugh, despite themselves.

  The Judge silenced everyone by saying, "And before that, Captain Victor Cojo sat exactly where you are sitting and lied directly to my face. He told me no one else on the crew had any idea what he was doing, and that if any of you had dared question his authority, he'd have thrown you straight into the brig or shot you on sight. He even tried to confess to ordering Monster to rescue him from General Milner's forces when they tried to arrest him."

  Frank grunted, easily imagining Vic saying that, but did not respond.

  "Both of them are now serving life sentences in this galaxy's most secure penitentiary for violent offenders. They are in there with multiple criminals who they, themselves, placed within it. They must be having a terribly hard time inside that prison, I imagine, so let me ask you something, Lieutenant. Why would either of them offer themselves up to that kind of never-ending nightmare? Tell me what your opinion is of the testimony that this Monster fellow and Captain Cojo offered."

  Frank's eyes narrowed on the Judge as he said, "At Andoho-Sky, I watched Monster break into a burning building to save a little girl. It was certain death for both of them, but he got her out, and she's alive to this day because of him. And then, afterwards, he carried around this ugly little stuffed animal that she gave him everywhere he went. H
e probably has it now, sleeping next to it in that disgusting cell you people put him in." Frank's voice caught in his throat at the thought and he needed a minute to collect himself.

  He raised his face again to the judge and said, "Let me tell you something about Victor Cojo. I've worked with him for five years, and he's difficult and crazy and always getting us into a ton of trouble. But if you were alone on a planet filled with hostiles, and all you had to fight with were rocks and sticks, and nobody in this entire room gave you any chance of survival, but you had Vic Cojo on your side, you'd still win. He would find a way to win, and he'd find a way to make sure all of his people came out of it safe. He's that good, and he's that kind of captain, and he's that kind of person."

  The Judge nodded grimly and said, "It sounds as if you have great respect and admiration for your fellow crew members."

  "Hooah," Frank whispered through the lump in his throat.

  "So how can you possibly expect this court to believe for one moment that you would have obeyed General Milner's order to abandon your pursuit of Yultorot, especially when Captain Cojo and Monster were so intent on bringing him to justice?"

  Every eye in the courtroom was locked on Frank then. Not a single person spoke and most of them held their breath, waiting for him to respond.

  Frank sat up straight in his chair and said, "Before I am anything else, I am a Lieutenant in the Unification Armed Services, sir. My commitment to Unification is permanent and unwavering. It is my solemn duty to follow orders, whether I like them or not. You were wrong to sentence my crew members to Gratersfield, just as you are wrong to allow a bastard like Yultorot to live, let alone work for us. But I am a soldier, and I will do as I am ordered."

  The collar of Frank's uniform was itchy as he stood on the flight deck. It was fitted tight around his neck, like a hand clenching his throat, not letting him breathe. Sergeant Bob Buehl, the ship's pilot and technical wizard, shifted nervously. Too nervously, Frank decided. The man's muscular arms were tensed like coiled springs as he flexed and unflexed them at his sides, then decided to fuss with his uniform jacket, checking it for dangling threads or crooked buttons.

  "Knock it off," Frank whispered. "You look fine."

  "I always hated uniform inspections," Buehl muttered.

  General Milner was dressed in his best parade uniform, the kind usually reserved for formal occasions. His black coat was tailored tightly to his figure and draped with gold braids and stars. His shoes were polished bright enough that he could shave in their reflection. He stopped at the far end of the line and stood peering down at the Grendel Unit's new captain, then nodded approvingly.

  Captain Joseph Hill stood ramrod straight with his chin thrust in the air, showing off all the polished brass and colored ribbons that decorated his uniform shirt. Frank had seen the medals earlier and rolled his eyes. In the Unification Armed Services, it wasn't what you did that earned you medals. It was how well you knew the person who handed them out. Apparently, Hill had a few close friends at the top who likely gave him blue ribbons every time he tied his shoelaces the right way. Frank could list a hundred things his unit had done in one week that merited every honor on the list, but they weren't the kind to put in for them.

  As the general moved past the captain, Hill's eyes shifted sideways toward Frank, locking onto him. Frank did not look away. He stared back at Hill until the other man gave up and turned his head back to face the ship sitting in the hangar bay in front of them.

  Speaking of things that are shiny and gaudy, Frank thought.

  General Milner had beamed like a peacock when he showed them their new ship. Hill and the new First Officer had fawned over it, gasping with admiration and gratitude.

  The new First Officer hadn't just fawned, Frank thought. She'd gawked. Her eyes widened until they looked ready to burst out of their sockets and her mouth opened wide enough for her to make tiny squeaks that sounded like she was choking to death. Worse yet, she stayed that way until she was certain the General saw her gawking, milking every last ounce of attention she could get from him, making sure she was the person showing more appreciation than anyone else there.

  Frank frowned when he first looked at the ship and wasn't impressed.

  The Samsara, their old ship, had been a small, fast vessel. It was the same model that smugglers preferred because they could get in and out of tricky situations quickly. She carried a decent amount of weapons, but Grendel Unit was never a ship-to-ship combat outfit. They were hands on. Literally.

  This new ship was as bright and flashy as a parade float. It had Unification markings in bold red letters painted across the hull so everybody could see them coming. The General saw Frank's look of disapproval and said, "What's wrong with the ship? What don't you like?"

  "Aside from the obvious? Where's the airlock?" Frank said.

  Captain Hill snorted derisively, "What are we, a cargo carrier? We have hull doors."

  Frank nodded and said, "Well, you can't fast rope down to a planet's surface or Baumgartner Jump out of hull doors, Stuart. You'll suck everything out of the room at stratosphere height."

  Hill looked at him blankly for a minute before he said, "Why in the hell would you ever need to do that? We don't even have Baumgartner suits equipped for this mission."

  Frank just walked away in disgust.

  And now, General Milner was coming down the line toward the new First Officer to inspect her uniform. Wendy Simone's long, black hair was pulled tightly back on her head in a severe ponytail. Her heels clacked together as she snapped to attention, her arms so stiff they shook against her sides. She kept her eyes cocked up at the office's lights, offering her throat to the General like she was a small dog.

  The General tugged the collars of her shirt down to fine, sharp points, and said, "Good morning, Commander."

  Wendy Simone nodded slightly and replied in a loud voice, "Good morning, General Milner."

  Milner smiled with grating beneficence. "Are you ready for the big day, young lady? Your first assignment in the field after all that simulated combat."

  "There is nothing in the field I have not already seen sir. The simulated training is statistically more rigorous than anything field operatives experience."

  Frank smirked at that. Simone had spent four years in a pilot-program at the Academy, designed to take raw officers and turn them into full-fledged veterans in one fifth the time and with no casualties. The trouble was, Simone had mistaken all that classroom work for actual experience. She was going to find out the hard way that it was a lot different out here in the real world when there's no one to push the emergency stop button. I'll be doing her a favor, he told himself. Putting her out of commission before somebody blows her brains out or cuts her throat from ear to ear.

  A tiny voice in the back of his mind said, "That's right, make all the justifications you want. People can always justify things, no matter how horrible."

  General Milner turned toward Frank and began to approach, taking his time to give Frank a minute to snap-to and click his heels as the others had done, but Frank simply turned his head to look forward. He'd polished his boots that morning and put on a clean, pressed uniform. That was the extent of what the old man was going to get. The general paused in front of Frank and said, "Well, Lieutenant?"

  "Yes, General?" Frank replied.

  Milner looked behind where Frank was standing, seeing that Frank was the only one without a large gear bag. The others had assembled their bags so that every flap was open and exposed, showing that they were fully equipped. Wendy Simone had even gone one extra step by removing most of the important items and laying them outside of the bag, just to make a point. The space behind Frank was empty. "Where is your duty gear?" the general said.

  "Loaded on the ship already," Frank said. After a long pause, he threw in "Sir," for good measure. He'd conned the duty station officer into letting him aboard the ship earlier that morning and loaded his gear already. It was a gamble, but it wouldn't do to have th
e general go poking around inside Frank's bag at that point. The only way any part of the plan was going to work was if Frank had both the gear he needed, and the element of surprise.

  "Did I not say this was a full duty inspection?"

  Frank nodded. "That was what the Captain told me."

  "So why is your gear not out here for me to inspect and ensure it is mission-ready, because if I leave it up to you people, God knows what you'll wind up taking."

  Frank could feel the Captain's hot stare boring into the side of his face like a heat lamp. Commander Simone seemed to be smirking a little. The General was a tall, block-shaped man. The kind who stood over you with hunched shoulders and jabbed a finger down in your face when he was angry. His nostrils flared when he was angry, and right now they were flaring wider than a stallion's.

  Frank squared up with the general and said, "Sir, my gear is mission-ready, because the last time I used it was on a mission and not in some boardroom and not on some computer simulation. I know where it is, what I have, and how to get to it as fast as possible in order to save someone's life. If I take it all out and spread it on the ground for you look at, I might not have time to get it all back in order again and that's not an option."

  The two men stared at one another.

  Frank threw in another, "Sir."

  General Milner got close to him then, close enough that Frank could smell his acrid coffee breath and see the saucer-sized pores on his wide, flat nose. "Today marks the beginning of the largest, most ambitious operation Grendel Unit has ever been a part of, Lieutenant. Using our newly-developed assets, we are going to single-handedly wipe out the main players of this quadrant's most dangerous terrorist organization. Tell me, are you excited about that?"

  Frank shrugged and said, "No."

  Wendy Simone let out an audible hiss like someone had unplugged her tires. Even Bob Buehl flinched a little.