“APEX, run the simulation again, please, using the teleportation variables and assumptions based on what has been observed of the Coven’s powers, combined with a randomized force of three Homecon’s of mid-range power. Assume all members of the Alliance are absent. For this incursion test, assume the base occupant’s to be as they were earlier today while we fought Experion.”
“Of course, GV, ya know it.”
Brett watched the security screens from within the war room as he waited for the results. He didn’t need to sleep, and he couldn’t this evening. He’d watched another movie with his family, and then Amelia had enticed him into the bedroom for a welcome home much more intensive than the earlier “shower.”
“Simulation complete.”
“Results?”
Much more seriously this time, “Significant damage to various automated defenses, which are appended to this data file. Casualties: WIA: Birdman, Red Widow, The Cop. KIA: Bomber, Catwoman. MIA: Baby Robbie.”
“Conclusions?”
“Primary weakness is teleportation. If a teleporter has details of the base schematics, they can potentially arrive in locations that are not covered by primary defensive weapons emplacements. An appropriate combination of teleportation and powered individuals can possibly avoid the non-lethal defensive systems.”
“Likelihood?”
“I calculate a 14% chance of success. However, those percentages are based on incomplete data. Success ratio increases quickly the more knowledge a threat has of the layout and design of the internal structure of this base.”
“Fine. Note the most likely chances of failure, and provide recommendations of defensive system emplacement to remediate. Randomize current structure too in order to redeploy assets that were likely detected during Martial Law’s visit as well as the areas the Coven has been accessing. I’ll start when I return.”
“Got it, bossman.”
Brett sighed, before getting up, “Thanks for your help, Apex.”
“Anytime, bossman.”
He got up before he decided to watch the security feed again of how she was dressed as she and his brother went out to the bar. He’d almost found a reason to be in the courtyard as they left.
“Oh, one last thing, I know William just got to DC, did he approve those assets and personnel for use in retrieving Alliance Two?”
“Yes, the SS Velocity will be departing New Orleans in two hours. A private jet has been chartered at San Diego for your use. The surplus CH-53 has been purchased and is in Pensacola awaiting pickup, a maintenance crew is certifying it for flight right now.”
“Thanks again, APEX. Don’t forget ta change the registry on the Velocity right before it departs!”
You know it, Home Slice.”
Shaking his head, he walked out of the war room.
“Hey, baby,” he kissed the curve of her cheek as he slid into bed, and under the blanks she had wrapped around herself while he was working
“Baby?”
“hhhh,” came the muffled grunt.
“I fucked up.”
“Brett, its after midnight, what’re we talking about?”
“I let her get ta me……I blew the surprise.”
“Who got ta you, cowboy? What are ya talking about?”
“Earlier. Livy was playing her sob story, and it…..well, ya know, it made me defensive. And then fuckin’ Henri was super mean, criticizing me about the lack of family time, or that all I do is push her ta do better, ta train. So I blew her birthday suprise for a couple weeks. I don’t know why Henri’s so mean all the time.”
Blinking back fatigue, “Brett, ya need to relax. Who knows why Henri is so hateful right now. Livy was just playing ta the crowd. Yes, ya fucked up, so what. She wants ta go. Now she knows two weeks earlier. We’ll still have fun. She’ll still have fun. As a family.”
“Are ya sure?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, since yer up anyway, how about…..” as he strokes a scaled finger, just barely touching the nipple that had become visible as she rolled over to talk to him, and as her lips parted briefly, he bent quickly down, toungue flicking out to caress her lips.
“Maybe I can stay awake a bit longer.”
An hour later as they lay sprawled across the bed, breathing heavily. “I’m showering first, then I’ll get Livy up to pack her gear. I already packed yers.”
“What?” she murmurs tiredly.
“We gotta go get Alliance Two?”
“What? ….Where?….When?”
“Were ya not listening earlier? He crashed when he was damaged so badly earlier fighting Experion. Can’t leave him there long. I’m sure the military will be there quickly after Stacey gives the report. I told William I’d go get it. I told Livy she could go. But I need ya too. Need someone to help keep watch.” With that, he kisses the stunned beautiful woman on the cheek facing him, slapped her on the very taut ass, and rolled out of bed.
“Can’t sleep all day, baby.”
“It’s 1 AM!
So beautiful. So peaceful. He didn’t want to take her, but in the heat of angered frustration he’d promised. Unlike her scuba certification, wihch should have been easy, there were real possibilities of danger in this retrieval. The island still had the changed animals, and the long term risk. He hadn’t raised it with the team, and with Alliance 2 out of the misssion and the wounds they suffered, but….no one should have access to those creatures. That meant putting them down. Frankly, if there weren’t government forces there from somewhere, he’d be very surprised.
She’d fallen asleep in that ratty old BMX t-shirt she’d been wearing as pajamas the night he’d brought them home. It was really getting a little small for that.
Promises.
Loudly, he stated, “Did ya not want ta go? I thought you wanted ta go? Mission time.” He smiled proudly as she rolled, only semi-awake, off the bed and into the modified TaeKwonDo stance she favored. Then her brain caught up, “Dad, what the hell?” and when she stepped forward, that’s when she tripped over the game controller wrapped around her ankle. He very carefully did not snort laughter, at least not too loud.
“Its bloody 1 AM in the morning!”
“Ya said ya wanted to go last night. Ta help. Ya know, recover Alliance II.”
“Really?”
He nodded. She squealed in victory, doing some kind of dance he was unfamiliar with, before hugging him real quick. “I’m as sure as I know that yer uncle fucks kangaroos that ya can’t go in a t-shirt an’ pair of pink Daks. Get yer stuff. Meet yer Mum and I at the armory in fifteen. Apex has a list of stuff ya need to get.”
“Is there anything else I can get you or your colleagues, Mr. Smith?”
He looked at his family in question, and they both shook there head. “Nothing, thank you.”
As the attendant returned to the rear galley, he finished his coffee. It still amazed him that he was on a private jet with Amelia and his daughter, and Livy’s wide eyes for the first part of the flight had been worth treasuring, for no other reason than, it had been a first for her and he’d been able to be there for it.
“Any questions on the mission plan, such as it is?”
“Are ya sure about this, Brett?” Amelia asked one question while her eyes asked a different one.
“I am sure that we need to recover the asset within the next forty-eight hours. This is really the only way to do it without an even wider audience.” His gaze said trust me.
She nodded, the faith in him apparent, the worry as a mother equally so.
“Good, then remember your passports, the rest of your gear, an’ Livy, don’t argue. On mission or in front of other crewmembers. Ya have fifteen more minutes before we land. I suggest you pull up the flight simulator for the CH-53.” For once, she didn’t even roll her eyes.
“Make sure ya watch carefully, put yer hands on the controls, and just feel the way they move as I take us in. Got it?”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything. Over the headset, a rough voice said, not unkindly 
“Ma’am, you need to acknowledge commands like that verbally. So that everyone knows what’s going on.”
She swallowed, “Got it, Chief. Understood.”
Her father looked at her like he was waiting for something, and she quietly mouthed, “What?”
He pointed his chin, mouthing, “Radio.”
She flicked the control before stating, “William’s Rubber Duck, William’s Rubber Duck, Water Walker descending for landing.”
“Water Walker, acknowledged. Prepped and ready.”
As he settled the monstrous helicopter onto a relatively small helo pad on the vessel plowing through the seas, her Dad let out a slow, steadying breath. “Not bad for my first time. Don’t tell yer Mum,” and then he winked at her. Over the radio, “Water Walker One, clear from flight ops.”
“Acknowledged,” came back. Taking off his headset, he turned to look at her.
“Ya ready to fly it when we take off for the island?” he continued.
Suddenly, the slight roll of the vessel made her swallow, or that’s what she thought anyway, “Yep, going to take this little chick home to roost.”
“That’s my girl.”
Panic surged briefly through her as he started showing her the post-flight shutdown. She was very much not ready.
She followed her Mum and Dad down the passageway, before down a short stairwell, or ladder she thought she remembered her Dad saying they called it on a ship. So many terms and he expected instantaneous recall. A real mission, not training, well, training, but…..not at the base. Even if it was just picking up the wrecked Alliance Two. She’d checked her passport and memorized the details. It said she was 18 years old……she’d asked too. She could almost hear the reply again.
She wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He appeared totally relaxed, and he seldom really seemed that way at home. Totally relaxed and utterly unreadable. Again, different than at home. Almost…….the thought escaped her as he answered. “First, nobody is goin’ ta trust a teenage kid, whether or not ya have the skills, some of which we know ya haven’t learned yet. Second, all of the personnel on this ship we’re meeting are former military or law enforcement of some kind. They will treat someone that looks like a kid like….well, a recruit or trainee or whatever term ya feel like using. They are used ta having ta explain things ta newbies. But an uncommitted teenager? Nobody gives a damn an’ they’ll see ya as worthless, ‘n the way, an’ by extension will question the orders I give, an’ in the air, on a ship, or if it really goes ta shit, that will get someone killed.”
Excitement had surged through her….and something else. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. He’d answered….just answered. No emotion, no kiddo, no Livy. Just a straight explanation. It was…not cold, that wasn’t it. Maybe professional? Business-like? Matter of fact.
She’d had to pull up shortly when her Mum stopped in front of her, before moving through a hatch and she followed and then stopped. They’d made it to the bridge, so she focused on what was going on.
“Mr. Smith, welcome aboard.”
“Captain Aguilera.”
The grizzled woman rubbed her hand through her short gray hair, “William’s Rubber Ducky?” The question appeared polite, but there was a tone of something that Olivia couldn’t quite place.
Her Dad, Oliver, she thought at herself, Oliver, shrugged slightly, “Almost thirty years in the Coast Guard before you retired, Captain. What do you think when you hear that name?” For a second, Olivia was distracted, then she realized that her Dad’s accent had changed to some sort of flat tonal American, she guessed.
“I’d think that some jackass with more money than sense was playing sailor.”
“Fair point. What does the US Coast Guard do when they hear idiots on the radio?”
“Plot them on the board and generally tune them out until they start squawking an emergency.” She smiled briefly, “So, hiding in plain sight then. Alright.” She glanced first at Livy’s Mum, then at her, appraising. “So…apparently you’re in charge, but I don’t give a rat’s ass, there’s only one captain on a ship. I hope we’re on the same page?”
“I have no desire to be a sea captain, Captain. I have enough shit to do as it is.”
“Good, then, this Captain likes to know who the fuck is on her ship,” before nodding back towards Olivia.
“Oliver Smith,” her father answered. “I work directly for Dr. William Foster on security matters.” He continued, “Amelia Smith. As far as this task is concerned, she’s my team medic. She has other skills if they become necessary at the objective. Finally, Olivia Smith. Co-pilot for that damn beast on your flight deck.”
The captain’s expression continued to sour as the introductions were given, although she didn’t seem surprised.
“And yes, before you ask, the answer is yes. I don’t really care to discuss that subject further.”
Livy was lost at this point, the captain hadn’t even said anything, but, she’d been about to, but at the command in her father’s voice, her mouth snapped shut. “Aye, sir.”
“Then shall we discuss the plan really quickly? I’d like my team to get some rest before the flight to the island.”
“Water Walker 2, your stick.”
“Water Walker 2, Acknowledged.’
“Water Walker, William’s Rubber Ducky, all systems go. Takeoff at your discretion, sir.”
“Water Walker, acknowledged. Countdown is ten.”
“Alright, Olivia, all yours, 3, 2, 1…..” she slowly guided the aircraft forward into the blowing wind coming over the ship and slowly began to let the heavy chopper gain lift.
If she could have looked at the pilot’s seat right then, she may not have recognized her father’s expression, a mix mainly composed of pride, but a hint of recognition and sadness pulled at his smiling eyes.
“Congratulations, Co.” The rough voice came over the chopper internal comm’s from the back. “You just successfully took off from a moving ship at sea in what is arguably the most difficult helicopter to fly in the world. Don’t blow it by crashing us into the island when we get there, or the ocean on the way.”
None of the sarcasm diluted the surge of pride and freedom than ran through her body as she flew through the sky.
Belatedly, “Thank you, Chief Roberts.”
The island recovery was almost anti-climactic. Her father insisted on landing, but since he also landed directly on Alliance II, she hadn’t really argued. Then he’d said she had to keep the rotors going with just a tad of lift, so the weight didn’t fully settle. Then he’d unbuckled and climbed into the back and out, to attach all the harnesses along with Chief Roberts. She didn’t even have time to look around to see if she could spot some of the creatures her Dad had briefed them on or to explore, which kind of sucked.
Two hours later she was fucking exhausted. The tension from holding that very slight control on the controls was making her whole body ache.
She almost jerked when she heard the machine gun installed begun thudding and firing, short burst that it was. “Target has retreated into the jungle line, as expected, Oliver.”
“Acknowledged, one more set of straps to go.”
The flight back to the ship with her father flying was almost boring, except for the massive wrecked airship dragging through the air under them.
She had absolutely no idea how her father had hovered over a slightly moving ship, tossing in slight swells, while the professionals below slowly lashed the broken Alliance Two onto the deck before disconnecting the cargo straps.
And then he landed. Tweny minutes later she was asleep in the small bunkroom they had been assigned.
He shook her shoulder roughly. When she awoke with a groggy, “Wha?”
“Get up. Bridge. 2 minutes. There’s a problem.”
He didn’t wait for her, as he jogged down the passageway and out onto the higher flight deck where they’d loaded Alliance Two.
Quietly, he linked to James. “Status report.”
“Sir, nanotech repairs continue on schedule. Propulsion should be available in thirty-nine hours, navigation in….”
“That’s fine, James.”
He looked towards the storm clouds to the northwest as a ripple went through his skin. The muttered, “Motherfucker,” blew away in the wind.
Then he took a deep breath, “Give me an analysis on the distress call, the ship, and what records of the crew you can find.”
“Of course, working, sir.”
He walked onto the bridge, his daughter rushing down the passageway to slow and enter right behind him, but as he walked in, he looked unerringly into the corner where she stood, wrapped in a conversation with one of the ship’s crewman, Patterson. As if feeling his gaze on her, she turned, gave him a bright smile, even if he could see the worry in her eyes. Maybe, just maybe, a hint of gold flashed through his eyes as he pushed all of his fear down inside, into the ball he had always been taught to build to contain…..feeling. Stoicly, he turned to Captain Aguilera, as the former Navy crew chief limped through the hatch, pausing to stand uncomfortably behind the girlish co-pilot.
“Captain, now that my team is here, please proceed.”
“To sum up the earlier discussions, the Indian flagged vessel IMS Rustom’s automated distress signal is broadcasting northeast of here about two hundred nautical miles. There is a tropical depression moving slowly towards it, one that isn’t even named yet because its expected to turn easterly and head towards N. Africa. Suffice it to say, here in the South Atlantic, as far as we can tell, we are the nearest vessel by several hours. The law of the sea demands that we offer assistance. However, with the salvaged research vessel lashed to flight deck above, and your Sea Stallion on the other deck, we are extremely top heavy and moving into the swells of even a small tropical depression could potentially cause us difficulty if the storm changes suddenly. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem because we could jettison cargo, or move straight west into the calmer waters off of South America. Of course, we have assets a normal civilian ship might not have too, but, as has been repeatedly made clear from the beginning, I do not have the authority to assign those assets. So, I am asking. Formally. For your team’s assistance, Mr. Smith.”
The captain’s tone was level, cool, but there was iron underneath. Oliver Smith recognized it, Brett Anderson responded to it. He understood it, he respected it. Still, he surveyed the small command area, and something changed. The air perhaps, colder. Olivia watched and for the first time, perhaps, realized what her father carefully controlled, even when he was angry, or maybe even most when he was angry. She glanced at her mother out of the corner of her eye, and she saw the worry, and the pain, before she straightened. She watched the bridge crew, and…..watched as they recognized that “Mr. Smith” was not just a security professional, but a predator, a….killer. Energy thrummed through her and she started to speak, but her father spoke first, and her vocal cords froze with her mouth slightly open.
“I acknowledge your request, Captain.” The words were calm, quiet, and not an answer. She realized in that moment that her father had already made his decision and no one on this ship would be able to change his mind. The question was what he had decided. “I agree that Duck and the overall mission would most likely be compromised by this vessel proceeding closer to the stricken vessel. My analysis indicates that there are anywhere from fifteen to twenty-five crewman plus potential unregistered passengers, and regardless of the actual freight on the ship, the distress signal is likely due to pirate activity.”
He paused, “The plan will be as follows…..
TO BE CONTINUED
Last Dreams 