size on the entire surface.”
Shawn turned back
to his controls as he assimilated the information. “That’s more than a little
surprising. If the Kafarans had a weapon that could do this, why aren’t there
more of these on the surface?” he asked, knowing there was no way for her to
answer. They sat in silence for a moment before Shawn shook his head and spoke
again. “We aren’t going to learn much more from up here. I think it’s time we got
this mission underway. Let’s get the ship down to the landing coordinates.”
“Yes, sir,” Raven
said, taking the cue to initiate a call to the Rhea to inform Captain Krif about their impending landing.
Throttling back the
two main drive engines, Shawn put the Mark-IV into a leisurely counterclockwise
circle of the landing area. There were large fissures in the eight-foot-thick
runway surface: a spider’s web of destruction spreading out and away from the
base complex as a result of whatever had caused the crater to form. Finding an
undisturbed area large enough to accommodate the Mark-IV, Shawn extended the
landing struts, setting the ship down with the finesse of a seasoned
professional. He reached for the switch that would release the rear cargo ramp,
and within minutes the ship was cleared of all personnel.
Now sitting on the
tattered remains of the airstrip, as Roslyn watched the Marines unload the last
of their cargo, Shawn’s attention was drawn to their fighter escorts as they
flew overhead. Jerry Santorum and Clarissa McAllister were up there, covering
the ground forces below with practiced precision.
As Nova and
Bagpipes completed their low-speed turn, the two logistics Pharaohs made a lazy
approach just south of Sylvia’s Delight .
As graceful and beautiful as they were functional, the two craft swooped into a
position several hundred feet from their landing position, their swept wings
twisting up vertically as the horizontal thrust of their engines was turned
into vertical propulsion. The craft hovered there for a moment, the
high-pitched whining of the engines almost deafening, as the backwash from the
blue-white thrust threw up small bits of dirt and debris from the
long-abandoned tarmac. As the craft neared the surface, both Shawn and Roslyn
had to cover their eyes from the onslaught, which ended a minute later when the
ship powered down.
The crews of the
VTOL craft immediately moved out of the light logistic ships and linked up with
the Marines near the cargo area of Sylvia’s
Delight —save for a single crewman who approached Shawn. As the pilot neared
Shawn, he began to take off gloves, and when he was within a few feet of
Kestrel he removed his helmet.
To his chagrin,
Shawn saw that the ‘he’ was in fact a she ,
and the ‘she’ was Agent Melissa Graves. He scowled at her defiance. “I thought
I told you not to come down here.”
“You did,” she
replied with a nod. “You made it perfectly clear that you wanted me to remain
on board the Rhea .”
“And yet somehow,
as if compelled by some twisted logic that says, ‘Let’s make Shawn as
absolutely upset as possible,’ you failed to do exactly that.”
“It was my
prerogative as lead agent,” Melissa replied smartly.
“So instead of
talking about this with me—”
“You mean arguing,
don’t you?”
“Instead of you
arguing with me over this on the Rhea ,
you just decided to hop on board another ship.”
“First Lieutenant
Burgess was very accommodating,” Melissa said, inclining her head toward the VTOL
Pharaoh that had ferried her to the planet.
Well, she’s here, and there’s nothing I can
do about it now, Shawnthought.
He briefly entertained the idea of tying her up and locking her inside Sylvia’s Delight , but in fear of her
ensuing wrath, he decided against it. He could order the Marines to guard her,
but he knew Melissa well enough to know she’d just resent him more for it.
Shawn turned back
to his controls as he assimilated the information. “That’s more than a little
surprising. If the Kafarans had a weapon that could do this, why aren’t there
more of these on the surface?” he asked, knowing there was no way for her to
answer. They sat in silence for a moment before Shawn shook his head and spoke
again. “We aren’t going to learn much more from up here. I think it’s time we got
this mission underway. Let’s get the ship down to the landing coordinates.”
“Yes, sir,” Raven
said, taking the cue to initiate a call to the Rhea to inform Captain Krif about their impending landing.
Throttling back the
two main drive engines, Shawn put the Mark-IV into a leisurely counterclockwise
circle of the landing area. There were large fissures in the eight-foot-thick
runway surface: a spider’s web of destruction spreading out and away from the
base complex as a result of whatever had caused the crater to form. Finding an
undisturbed area large enough to accommodate the Mark-IV, Shawn extended the
landing struts, setting the ship down with the finesse of a seasoned
professional. He reached for the switch that would release the rear cargo ramp,
and within minutes the ship was cleared of all personnel.
Now sitting on the
tattered remains of the airstrip, as Roslyn watched the Marines unload the last
of their cargo, Shawn’s attention was drawn to their fighter escorts as they
flew overhead. Jerry Santorum and Clarissa McAllister were up there, covering
the ground forces below with practiced precision.
As Nova and
Bagpipes completed their low-speed turn, the two logistics Pharaohs made a lazy
approach just south of Sylvia’s Delight .
As graceful and beautiful as they were functional, the two craft swooped into a
position several hundred feet from their landing position, their swept wings
twisting up vertically as the horizontal thrust of their engines was turned
into vertical propulsion. The craft hovered there for a moment, the
high-pitched whining of the engines almost deafening, as the backwash from the
blue-white thrust threw up small bits of dirt and debris from the
long-abandoned tarmac. As the craft neared the surface, both Shawn and Roslyn
had to cover their eyes from the onslaught, which ended a minute later when the
ship powered down.
The crews of the
VTOL craft immediately moved out of the light logistic ships and linked up with
the Marines near the cargo area of Sylvia’s
Delight —save for a single crewman who approached Shawn. As the pilot neared
Shawn, he began to take off gloves, and when he was within a few feet of
Kestrel he removed his helmet.
To his chagrin,
Shawn saw that the ‘he’ was in fact a she ,
and the ‘she’ was Agent Melissa Graves. He scowled at her defiance. “I thought
I told you not to come down here.”
“You did,” she
replied with a nod. “You made it perfectly clear that you wanted me to remain
on board the Rhea .”
“And yet somehow,
as if compelled by some twisted logic that says, ‘Let’s make Shawn as
absolutely upset as possible,’ you failed to do exactly that.”
“It was my
prerogative as lead agent,” Melissa replied smartly.
“So instead of
talking about this with me—”
“You mean arguing,
don’t you?”
“Instead of you
arguing with me over this on the Rhea ,
you just decided to hop on board another ship.”
“First Lieutenant
Burgess was very accommodating,” Melissa said, inclining her head toward the VTOL
Pharaoh that had ferried her to the planet.
Well, she’s here, and there’s nothing I can
do about it now, Shawnthought.
He briefly entertained the idea of tying her up and locking her inside Sylvia’s Delight , but in fear of her
ensuing wrath, he decided against it. He could order the Marines to guard her,
but he knew Melissa well enough to know she’d just resent him more for it.
Similar Books
What If Ireland Defaults?
Brian Lucey
Jonah Havensby
Bob Bannon
Arcane Society Story 01 - The Scargill Cove Case Files
Jayne Ann Krentz
Himiko: Warrior
CB Conwy
Wingless
Taylor Lavati
The Ladder Dancer
Roz Southey
To Betray A Brother
G.W. Gibson
Blue Damask
Annmarie Banks
Baby Im Back
Stephanie Bond