Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [113]
Jackson, in the meantime, ostentatiously studied his meter but also kept an eye on the entrance as he stalked back and forth beside the stacks of dirty laundry. His men kept count, collecting some 150 of the coveralls to be on the safe side, and then signaled to him when they were done.
Ruiz started the tractor forward with Teal riding beside him. Jackson jogged along next to the train, and Baxter came behind. The master chief drove his stolen vehicle right out the front of the service center, where they came upon several of the workers who had evacuated upon Jackson’s alarm.
“It’s all clear now,” the LT explained breezily. He gestured at the cart being towed behind the tractor. “There was some contamination, but we got it all cleaned up. You can go back to work.”
In part because he was towing only one car, Ruiz was able to make his way easily through the traffic bustling both ways along the thoroughfare. In five minutes they pulled up to a door that was just across the way from the entry to the prisoners’ quarters. Teal hopped off the passenger’s seat and manipulated the door by punching a couple of buttons. The portal slid smoothly open, and the four SEALS and their stolen stacks of laundry drove inside and closed the door.
“Nice work, men,” the LT said. They had enough uniforms for all the human prisoners on the Bazaar. Even so, that was only a first step, and a lot of other things needed to go right. For a moment, he considered his next move and quickly decided what to do.
“Fritz, Harry, I want you two to wait here. Rafe, show me where this commercial radio center is. I guess it’s time I made a phone call.”
Sanders and his men wasted no time locating and freeing the large number of humans imprisoned in their cabins and berths aboard the Pangaea. Of the original complement of some 1,000 individuals, 900 remained aboard the ship. Though Captain Pickens and his highest-ranking officers had been included in the hostages taken aboard the Bazaar, there were enough junior officers and crewmen to operate the big starship. The reactors and then the engines had been powered up, and the communication and detection systems were engaged. The ship was almost ready to move.
He appointed Senior Lieutenant Brown as acting captain and asked him to get the big craft up and running. Lieutenant Wesling took charge of the passengers, most of whom were lower-level functionaries who had come along as assistants to the diplomats and brass-encrusted military people who had been assigned as delegates to the now-defunct conference. Those folks went to work cleaning up the detritus of the recent battle.
The fight had been costly. Though the SEALS had emerged with only a few bumps and bruises, ten of the navy personnel, including three of Grafton’s drop boat crew, had made the ultimate sacrifice. Their bodies were set aside, frozen for later services, while the slain Eluoi were jettisoned into space.
Olin Parvik found the young SEALS lieutenant on the bridge as Sanders was finishing the final operation intended to restore the great ship to operability. “Have you gotten in touch with Captain Carstairs yet?” the Assarn pilot asked.
“I’m just about to do that,” Sanders replied. “Care to listen in? I suspect we could use a little more help from you, if you’re willing.”
“I’m in favor of anything that’s going to get under Tezlac Catal’s skin,” Parvik replied with a rather nasty smile. “Let’s see what the good captain has to say.”
With a veteran radio operator manning the console on the Pangaea’s bridge, it took only a few minutes to raise Carstairs in the CIC of the Pegasus. Sanders gave a concise account of the action aboard the big starship, confirming that the vessel had been restored to human control and that all