Slowly, the nanotech drones started to search the vessel, their reports building up a holographic diagram in front of Steve. As far as he could tell, most of the crew seemed European and there were even a handful of women, something very unusual for a terrorist ship. But then, it could just be cover. If the vast majority of the crew were unaware of their ship’s true purpose, it would be harder to find someone willing and able to betray the rest of their comrades.
“Here,” Mongo said. “Those guys don’t look like shippers.”
Steve couldn’t disagree. The six men in a lower room looked more like soldiers than sailors, although they were wearing civilian clothes. A quick check revealed that they had a small arsenal with them, enough weapons to stand off pirates or a commando offensive. Mongo checked the records and noted that the Karaboudjan often went near the east coast of Africa, where the pirates occasionally came out to prey on Western shipping. Armed guards and a willingness to shoot one’s way out of trouble were often the only true barrier to pirate attack.
“Soldiers or terrorists,” he mused. “Probably trained soldiers. Do we have any records of them?”
“They’re listed as armed guards from a Greek company, but nothing past that,” Mongo said. “Kevin would probably be able to dig up more information.”
“Probably,” Steve agreed. He watched as the drones started to enter the containers, rapidly scanning the contents. Most of them held pieces of technology or clothing that couldn’t be found in Greece these days, from what he’d read online. Others were completely empty, something that puzzled him. Surely empty crates were inefficient? Or was more coming out of Greece than going into the country? “I…”
He swore as one of the drones reported back, after entering yet another container. “Got her,” he said. “She’s there!”
Mongo peered over his shoulder as other drones converged on the container. Inside, Mariko was lying against one wall, her hand cuffed to the metal. Three men, two of them sleeping, were sharing the container; Steve felt his teeth clench in rage as he realised just how helpless his partner was, if one of her captors decided to have some fun. She wasn’t a soldier, not even a combat medic. And she had never learnt to fight with her bare hands.
“Teleport her out,” Mongo urged. “Then the SEALs can take the vessel in peace.”
Steve checked the interface, then shook his head. There was just too much metal and electronic interference to allow a successful teleport. Mariko wouldn’t thank him if she rematerialised with her head sticking out of her ass… and that was only if she was lucky, he knew. Most teleport accidents, according to the files, were instantly lethal and there was rarely a body to bury. The quantum uncertainty principle would see to it.
“We need to stun them all, then board the ship,” he said. “The SEALs can have her afterwards.”
He stood up. “And I’ll be leading the mission in person,” he said. At least they had a strike team on alert, composed of a handful of augmented soldiers. “I will not…”
“Steve,” Mongo said, sharply, “you shouldn’t be leading the mission. You shouldn’t even be there. You’re far too personally involved.”
Steve glowered at him. “And would you be happy if Jayne was on that ship and you had to remain behind?”
“No,” Mongo said. “But I’d accept it.”
He pushed Steve back into his chair, then headed towards the hatch. “I won’t let her get hurt,” he said. “And we will get her back to you. Just get ready to stun her captors upon command.”
Steve nodded, reluctantly.
Alannah Theodori stood on the deck and watched America fading into the distance. She hadn’t been sure what to expect of her first voyage across the ocean, but she had to admit she enjoyed it despite the cramped working conditions and the sometimes crude language of the older sailors. But then, she knew there were only handful of jobs in the shipping industry and she was incredibly lucky to get this job. Besides, it was a stepping stone to greater things.
She took a breath, tasting the sea air, then turned to head down to the hatch. As always, there was no shortage of work for the crew, even when they were miles away from land. Her duties weren’t difficult, but they were tedious and her supervisor got very snippy whenever she and her fellow crewmates got bored and started to play with their smartphones instead of working. But she couldn’t blame him for that, not really. They had to keep everything shipshape onboard ship — he made the pathetic joke at least once a day — and slackness would be a grave mistake.
A funny feeling flickered through the air, as if they were about to be struck by lightning. She looked up and saw a strange silver light appear along the deck, rapidly growing into the shape of a man. No, several men. She stared, unable to quite believe what she was seeing, as the man came into view, all wearing black uniforms and carrying strange-looking weapons. And then one of them pointed a weapon at her…
There was a flash of blue-white light and everything went black.
Mongo watched the girl fall, then keyed his communicator. “Have you got them?”
“Stunned them all,” Steve said. The tiny drones could stun as well as kill, thankfully, even though it had never been tested in combat. “Hurry up.”
Mongo nodded, then rapidly issued orders to his men. One group would secure the bridge, the other would go after the armed guards, then the hold. Anyone they encountered would be stunned without warning. Stunners had one definite advantage over automatic weapons; they could be used without fear of accidentally killing an innocent person. The safest course of action was to stun everyone on the ship, then transport them all back to shore and sort them out with the help of lie detectors and truth drugs. Afterwards, the innocent would be released and paid compensation, while the guilty went to the moon.
The six guards — or terrorists — didn’t have the faintest idea the assault team was there until it was far too late. Mongo wasn’t particularly surprised; if they’d hoped to hide their true nature from the crew, they wouldn’t have been patrolling the decks in full armour this close to the United States. They threw a stun grenade into the room, then followed up as the terrorists dropped to the deck. Mongo checked them rapidly, then marked them down for later attention and moved down towards the hold. Unsurprisingly, the hatch was locked. A quick burst from his alien-designed weapon burned right through it.
It wasn’t the first container ship he’d searched, but it was the first he’d actually known where to look for something. Deliberately or otherwise, the terrorists had placed their container on the second level, making it very hard to search. Mongo, undeterred, organised a set of ladders, then burned his way into the container. Inside, the air already smelt rank. He couldn’t help wondering just how the terrorists had intended to endure at least two weeks of an increasingly foul stench.
They’ve probably been in worse, he thought. Back in Basic Training, he’d been pretty rank too. And he’d crawled through sewage in Iraq. It was astonishing, he knew, just what one could get used to if there was no choice. And Mariko wouldn’t have been offered one.
He released the girl and carefully lowered her out of the container, back to the deck. Behind him, his team grabbed the three terrorists and moved them out too, using rather less care with their bodies. Mongo snapped at one of them who deliberately banged a terrorist head against the deck. He understood the impulse to just hurt the dishonourable bastards, but they needed evidence. Besides, it was unlikely that lunar courts would show any mercy to the fuckers.