Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [114]
“Excellent work, Sandy.” The captain’s praise crackled through the earphones, and the young lieutenant couldn’t help feeling a flush of pride. “So you’ll be getting under way soon?”
“They tell me it’ll be any minute now, sir. I confess, I’m looking forward to feeling some gravity again.”
“I hear you. Mark a course for the frigate. My helmsman will give yours the coordinates. We’ll link up and stand off about a thousand klicks from the Bazaar.”
“Very good, sir. Has there been any word from Lieutenant Jackson?” the SEALS officer asked.
“He’d been out of touch for some time, but he came through not ten minutes ago,” the captain replied, to Sanders’s considerable relief. “He says that he’s found the prisoners on the Bazaar, and has a plan to get them out of confinement. But we’ll need to coordinate a pickup or they’ll be standing around at the docking bay and won’t have much of a chance.”
“Roger that, sir. Olin Parvik is here. Do you want to bring him in on this?”
“By all means. Parvik? Thanks for all your help already. I’m going to put you in for an auxiliary medal of some kind or other. Can you do one more thing for us?”
“I already told Sandy that I’d be happy to help,” the pilot replied.
“Excellent. For the time being, put your feet up and enjoy the ride back to the Pegasus. Once we get into formation, I’m going to ask you to take that shuttle right up to the dock of the space station. If all goes well, Stonewall Jackson will meet you there with a group of passengers who will be looking for a ride home.”
It was twelve minutes later when Jackson emerged from the communications booth for the second time, having just gotten off the line with Carstairs. Ruiz, Teal, and Baxter met him in the avenue of the Bazaar’s midlevel, and he immediately gave them the thumbs-up. “We’re good to go,” he explained. “Parvik is on his way to the station with a shuttle and should be docking within the next hour. By that time our radios should be capable of local communication with him, so we’ll know exactly where to go.”
Since his initial meeting with Admiral Ballard in the prisoners’ compartments, Jackson had resisted the urge to bluff his way past the guard at the door again. It had seemed too risky, and there really hadn’t been anything to say. Now, however, it was time to throw caution to the wind. They needed action, and they needed it fast. Walking purposefully along the always bustling avenue of the Bazaar, they came to the room where they had stored the stolen cart and trailer full of coveralls. Once again the lock Baxter had reprogrammed worked smoothly, opening the door to give the four SEALS access.
Quickly Teal and Baxter shucked off their maintenance coveralls and donned the two Eluoi uniforms they had acquired earlier. Jackson made sure that the two pressure suits, together with a pair of G15s equipped with noise suppressors, were stowed safely in the laundry hamper underneath the stacks of white coveralls. He and Ruiz still carried the two cloth devices webbed with wiring that Baxter had made to the LT’s specifications.
Jackson wasn’t going to carry a firearm openly in the orderly civilian station, but he made sure that his sheath knife was readily accessible, attached to his forearm where he could wear it under the maintenance coverall. Ruiz, he noted, did the same with his knife.
“All right, men. Good luck. Let’s move out,” he said tersely.
Once again Baxter opened the door. Ruiz drove the tractor with Jackson sitting in the passenger seat. The two enlisted SEALS in their Eluoi uniforms trailed along a few steps behind. The little procession made its way up to the door to the prisoners’ compartments, where the usual two guards stood at ease, watching the stream of people moving past on the bustling avenue.
Jackson eased himself out of the seat and approached the first guard while Ruiz swiveled to ease his legs out of the driving compartment. He was only about two meters away from the second guard.
“What’s that?” the guard demanded, pointing to the single trailer. “We’re not due