They ran out into the hall. The Marines were holding both ends of the corridor, firing around the corners at the assembling guards. A couple of them had taken minor wounds, but no one was down yet.
“Back to the undercity…it’s the only way out.” Cain was shouting to Teller. “Leave two men on the right to hold the corridor, and move everyone else to the left. We’re going to have to fight our way down that corridor.” Cain didn’t know his way around the maze of hallways and passages, but he was pretty sure left was the most direct route back to the stairwell that led to the lower levels. He felt a momentary pang; the guys left to hold the rear had a pretty poor chance of getting out. He had the urge to go back and take the post himself, but he pushed it aside. He grinned morbidly, just for a second, as he imagined what General Holm would have said if he had taken up the rearguard. “Teller, those men are to hold for two minutes and then follow us. Two minutes and not a second more. No one commits suicide today. Understood?
“Yes, sir.” Teller started barking orders in the hallway, and in a few seconds he had everyone lined up, ready to go. Cain walked down the corridor with the admiral. At first, he was helping Garret, but then the admiral pulled away. “I’m OK, Cain. I can walk myself.”
Erik just nodded to the general. “OK, people, we’re going to fight our way right back to that stairwell and down the way we came. No stopping. No matter what. However bad it is, it’s only going to get worse if we wait.” He paused for an instant. “Let’s go!”
They spun around the corner, firing full and charging down the corridor. They took the guards by surprise, and they were halfway down the hall before the fire got really heavy. Cain noticed the blood on his arm before he felt the pain. He’d taken a shot just below the left shoulder, but he ignored it and kept firing as he ran forward. He rounded the corner along with the first two of his troopers, and they sprayed the entire area with fire. The guards broke and ran, but the Marines gunned them down as they fled.
They had a respite now, with all their enemies down. Cain did a quick assessment. Besides himself, they had two wounded. Both could keep moving, though Johnson had taken a hit in the thigh and needed a little help. They encountered sporadic resistance along the rest of the way, and they suffered their first fatality just before they reached the stairwell. It was just a single guard, but his first shot hit Carver in the head. The entire crew opened up, riddling the shooter, but the damage was done.
Cain leaned against the wall, motioning for the team to go through the door to the stairs. His shoulder was really throbbing now, and his sleeve was soaked with blood. He watched the last of his team duck through the door, but he hesitated. Simms and Hanson had stayed behind to hold the rear as they made their way to the stairs. “C’mon guys.” Erik was muttering under his breath, trying to will the two Marines to come around the corner. He waited as long as he dared, longer even, but there was nothing. Finally, he sighed and slipped through the door, running down the stairs to catch up with the group. He’d see Simms and Hanson again; they would join the legion of ghosts that visited him at night.
They made it back the way they had come and out into the tunnels. That was easier than I expected, Cain thought. Alliance Intelligence was so used to everyone being terrified of them, their internal security had become sloppy. It wasn’t designed to counter the threat posed by a strike team of hardcore Marine veterans. That was a scenario Alliance Intelligence had never imagined.
They ran through the tunnels, trying to find their way closer to the Martian embassy. They didn’t have a guide now, so they put some distance behind them and found a good place to hide, a large chamber located near an access point to the surface. Cain had been planning to slip out into the city and scout where they were, but his blood-drenched arm would hardly pass unnoticed on the street, so Teller went instead.
They settled in, tending to their wounds and waiting for Teller to return. Cain tied his torn sleeve around his wound and sat down next to Garret. The ground was cold and damp, ancient concrete, now cracked and splintered.
“I don’t know how to thank you and your Marines, general.” Garret had been shocked when Cain burst into his cell, but his own combat reflexes took over immediately. Now the adrenalin drained away just a bit, and his mind caught up on processing what had happened.
Cain turned his head and returned Garret’s gaze. “Our pleasure, admiral.” He managed a short smile. “Though we’re not out yet, so I’d hold that thought for now.”
Garret returned the partial grin. “I’ll risk it now. I’d rather be here with a chance than locked in that Godforsaken cell. So thank you.” After a pause: “My mind has been racing about what is going on out there. Stark would never have dared this stunt if it wasn’t really important.”
Cain’s smile faded. “There is a lot going on, alright, sir. I’m not even sure where to start.” He stared at Garret earnestly. “And you’re probably going to have some difficult decisions to make once we get you out of here.”
They spoke for hours, Erik trying to give Garret a synopsis of what had transpired in the time he’d been held captive. It was a lot, and Cain tried to be complete, though he really didn’t know the status of things on the rebelling planets. He’d chosen his side in the conflict, but he tried not to let his prejudices affect his description.
Garret’s expression was grim. “I should never have taken this appointment. I’ve been a damned fool.” Cain was listening, but he got the impression Garret was talking to himself as much as anyone else. “But you can bet you ass I’m going to fix that when we get out of here.” He paused, staring straight ahead at the wall. “You can count on that.”
Cain was trying to decide if a response was called for when Teller came striding into the room, followed by a man and a woman in non-descript civilian clothing. “I made to the embassy.” He had a smile on his face. “There’s a transport waiting just outside. C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
Cain eased himself up to his feet. His arm was stiff, the throbbing pain worsening with any movement. “Let’s go, Admiral Garret. Time to get you out of here.”
Chapter 22
The flag bridge was silent, save for the faint hum of the ship’s systems in the background. Every eye was fixed on Terrance Compton, and he could feel them boring into him, wordlessly demanding an explanation. He had known this moment would come, but he’d hoped he would have more time. In the end, sabotaging Commnet only bought him an extra two weeks.
He managed to figure it out when Harrigan went AWOL with a shuttle. It was still officially classified as an accident, a transport lost to an unexplained disaster. But Compton never believed that. He knew there were Alliance Intelligence agents in his fleet – there were in every squadron. But he was unnerved that they had managed to get an operative so close to him. Knocking out Commnet may have saved his life, he thought; Harrigan probably had orders to assassinate him if he didn’t comply with Governor Cooper’s demands.
The courier ship broadcast the orders from Admiral Garret’s office directly to Compton’s entire staff, as well as every ship commander in the fleet. He was on the spot now; he had to respond, and he had to do it now. He could feel his heart beating in his ears like a muffled drum, and his head ached with a raw, dull pain.
“As you are aware, we recently received a communication purported to be from Admiral Garret.” He intended to speak to his command staff only at first; he had initially considered going right on fleetcom, but then he thought, first things first. If he couldn’t convince his own people he was doomed. And if he could, at least he’d have some allies when he confronted the ship captains. But the com circuits were already overloaded with incoming messages, so in the end he decided he’d address the entire fleet at once. “For some time now, I have been gravely concerned that Admiral Garret has been acting under considerable external pressure.”