Wings of Steele - Flight of Freedom (Book2) (65 page)

“
That will put us about thirty minutes behind them...”

“
Perfect.”

Tusker looked over his shoulder, “Sir, task force reply.
Message received. Continue observation...”

“
Understood. Mister Ragnaar, prepare us for a jump to the gate's coordinates...”

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

VELORA PRIME :
UNIVERSAL PARALLELS

There hadn't been much left of Sy Setzel, except a naked mass of red, bloody mush, beaten and stomped to death. The miners had continued to beat and stomp his naked form long after he was dead, exhausting themselves, venting their frustration and hatred. Nobody could fault them for that. Left exposed, miners and family would pass the spectacle as they continued to exit the mine, spitting or kicking dirt on what was left, cursing the remains to an eternity of damnation. Nobody could fault them for that either.

The medical tents stayed fairly busy and a steady stream of locals came and went, picking up family and friends released from the mine. Contact with the Army engineer detachment at Mine 01, reflected much of the same kind of activity. The medical team had split up, the Army shuttle pilot running medical supplies and personnel to the other location.

The Marines had done a thorough search of Mine 02's offices and culled a fair amount of useable intel, leaving little behind. Rather than travel all the way to Mine 01, Steele sent a request with the shuttle pilot, that the team there, do the same with the offices at their location. Whether the information gathered there would be the same or not, was anybody's guess. But Jack's team had done as much as they could do, and he was itching to get back to the Freedom. But he wasn't going anywhere without picking up Fritz from the ASP first.

Sunlight sliced through the port-side view ports of the Invader, playing across the small passenger compartment. Corporal Dunnom leaned forward in his seat to look past Lisa sitting between them, “Skipper?” He passed an active e-Pad to Jack.

“
Watcha got?” Steele asked, taking it.

“
One of the files recovered from the mine office... See if we're on the same wavelength...”

Laying it across his thigh, Jack paged through spreadsheet type file. “Hmm,” he frowned, his lips pursing. “Looks like a personnel ledger, but not for the mine...”

Shoulder to shoulder with her brother, Lisa examined it too. “Looks like it has addresses and contact information...” she pointed, “are those nicknames?”

“
I'm thinking they're code names,” volunteered Dunnom.

Jack nodding in agreement. “This looks like a list of agents living here on Veloria...”

“Look there” pointed Lisa.

“
Yep, they even have some listed as dead or missing.” He looked over at Dunnom, “How many are on the list?”

“
A little over five-hundred. It shows that about twenty-percent of them are dead or missing...”

Steele let out a low whistle. “Holy crap, that still leaves about four-hundred of them running around loose.”

“And I think that's only half of them,” continued Dunnom. “The list shows that Mine 02 is their main contact... Mine 01 may have its own list.”

Steele sat back in his seat. “This was quite a concerted effort to destabilize this planet and its government... could it all have been just for the mines..?” He wasn't really asking the question, wasn't expecting an answer, he was just astonished and wondering out loud.
Could the resources be that valuable?

“
Sir,” said the Corporal accepting the e-Pad back, “I had a chance to chat with a couple of the miners in the medical tent and a few of the locals... they were mining for tyrillium and vanadium, which I found out is a rather unique combination and a windfall discovery...”

“
Enlighten me, Dunnom.”

“
Both of those materials are used in the alloy needed for ship building, and are rarely found together on the same planet, much less in the same mine. And even more rarely in fairly equal proportions, like it is here. In the volume available on this planet, it's considerably more valuable than pure gold. This whole thing, it's just about greed...”

“
It usually is,” replied Steele, flatly.  

It seemed that Veloria was a very wealthy planet when it came to raw resources. And the only ones who knew its true extent were the mine owners and the surveyors. In his desperation to pump finances into the struggling Velorian economy King
Leõn took the word of the mining surveyors on the contract value and sold the mineral rights for a mere pittance of their real value. He had not known the
independent
surveyors were actually spies for the mining consortium, and he was ill-informed about mineral values in general. He unwittingly sold his people into a hostile planetary takeover.

Steele was reasonably sure, that the UFW would not uphold a land lease or mining agreement of any kind, in light of the events on this planet. If they did, it would mean the UFW Directorate was in serious need of cleansing. He hoped that wasn't the case.

“On final approach for ASP, Skipper,” called Maria from the cockpit, “down in five...”

Lost in his thoughts, Steele didn't answer. If this was truly a list of all the covert operatives on the planet, it would be a huge asset to help ferret out these people and either take them out, or throw them off the planet. Considering what they were guilty of, he figured a little Wild-West diplomacy would go a long way to solving the issue... A tall tree and a short rope. Of course the real possibility was, there might not be that many of these folks left around... who sticks around after the job is finished? He couldn't stop thinking about the guy in the crowd at the palace that Alit
é had the run-in with. Was he on that list? Or just a dissident who'd foolishly joined the cause?

Jack was anticipating an exodus of people off the planet, covert agents, dissidents maybe, when the first trade ships started showing up... Because someone getting cut in two...
that event
was going to get around. And nobody would want to be
that guy.

Jack would do his best to give Boney,
the Prime Minister,
all the information, facts and deductions he had, hoping the soldiers at Mine 01 would have something to add as well. Then it would be up to Boney to handle the rest, Jack wanted out of it, he'd had enough. This planet was like a money-pit, except with tragedy, greed and misery. Unfortunately, he had the distinct feeling, that, like it or not, even after washing his hands of the whole mess, he was going to be involuntarily pulled back in at some point. How could he not? He was married to the Queen.

■ ■ ■

The captured Gogol pilot was an odd looking fellow, with a sallow, greenish hue to his thin, smooth skin, veins visible beneath the surface. He was a pleasant enough person, polite, soft spoken, and they had decided to call him Greg. His real name was unpronounceable, at least by Jack, who figured he needed a second tongue and the ability to gargle while speaking, to even attempt to articulate it. Despite his mixed human-saurian-like appearance, his most unusual feature was his legs, which bent at the knees in the opposite direction of human legs. Flashing back to the odd ejection seat Steele found in the forest, it explained a lot. 

Standing in a corridor in the underground labyrinth that was the base below the ASP, Jack Steele, the Prime Minister and Peacekeeper
Lieutenant, Ean Marboul
, compared notes on their e-Pads. Jack closed the interrogation room door behind them so they could speak privately in the hall.

“
He's a shrewd businessman, Jack,” said Boney, “he knows how to negotiate...”

“
He's a mercenary,” countered Steele, “he has to be a businessman or he doesn't get paid. I trust him about as far as I can throw him.”

“
Maybe I should have a little private talk with him...”

Steele shot the Lieutenant a glance, then smirked slyly back at Boney, “Yeah, I heard about your last little chat... that doesn't work with everybody, y'know. This guy's a professional, let's treat him like one and see where it gets us. Let him think we might give him what he wants, if he gives us the information.”

“You're not going to
give
him what he wants...”

“
No, of course not. But he can't
know
that... We have to make him
believe
we might, it's the carrot on a stick...”

“
The what..?”

“
Never mind...”

“
He
is
on the list you gave us, Captain,” pointed the Lieutenant, indicating the e-Pad.

“
I know,” replied Jack, “but that just tells us the list
is
what we thought it was, and validates our suspicions - every single name on that list is an
enemy
and needs to be hunted down, as soon as possible.”

“
I still think you should let me interrogate...”

Steele shook his head, cutting the Prime Minister off with an evil grin, “Something tells me you enjoyed that way too much...” He shifted the sling on his arm; the bone-healing stimulators were making his arm tingle. “Don't worry,” he waved, “you'll have other opportunities... our list is going to provide you plenty of chances for a repeat performance.”

“Agreed...” nodded the Prime Minister sedately, smoothing his suit.

Having settled on a course of action for the interrogation, Boney and the Lieutenant hung back after reentering the room, leaning against the back wall, arms crossed, letting Jack take the lead on the negotiation.

Thankfully the base commander had decided on leaving the investigation and actions of the Peacemakers up to the new Velorian government, choosing not to involve the UFW in anything other than a support and supply position. Though he was not clear on Jack Steele's involvement... being a UFW Space Services Captain. Then again he wasn't sure he wanted to know the details either.
Plausible deniability.

Jack stood opposite the Gogol pilot, the stainless-steel table separating them, the green man leaning comfortably back, his legs folded strangely back on either side of the chair, straddling it like a horse. The water glass sitting before him was half-full and Steele wondered if the man considered it half-full or half-empty. “Greg...”

His wide eyes blinked, a translucent, inner eyelid wiping his eyes. “Mr. Steele,” he affirmed. “Have you an offer for me?” he asked politely.

“
Look, Greg,” began Steele, unmoved, “I think you have information we want, and I realize you're a business man, so I'm sure we can come to something mutually beneficial to all of us...”

“
I'm sure we can,” the Gogol replied. “You know what I want; my freedom, a ship and no less than a half-a-million credits. That little troll, Setzel never paid us. And that price is reasonable,” he said, wagging a long index finger in Jack's direction. “We normally split unclaimed pay of lost members of our group... that means I'm entitled to three-million credits since I'm the only surviving member. But, considering our business wasn't with you, I'm not going to hold you to that. It wouldn't be quite fair.”

He's so calm, so confident.
Jack fought back a grin, maintaining his poker face. “We haven't proof yet that you're the only survivor of your squadron... But we truly appreciate your wanting to be fair, that is very admirable and something I greatly respect. And considering the UFW is not involved in this investigation, we enjoy a level of flexibility we wouldn't normally have...”

“
However...”

“
However,” continued Jack, “since you are familiar with the condition this planet has been left in, its lack of resources and technology or equipment, your request for a ship is impossible to fill. There is simply nothing available.”

“
I had nothing to do with the planet,” objected the Gogol, calmly, “we were tasked with protecting the ore freighters in and out...”

“
Not saying you did, Greg...”