25
Preparations
When Peter, Sy and Red finally made it to Shaft 22, Lorin reported that Sgt. Baig had indeed found them a contact at Pegaport. He was a cook at the base nutrition center named Luga Vincente. Vincente had already alerted Tam that he was to be extracted. Lorin also told them they had some additional orders from the Loyalist command. They were to assist Vincente and some other soldiers to escape from Pegaport and destroy some key targets before they left the island. The only thing left to do now was to get word to Vincente as to the timing of the operation.
"One of us is going to have to walk into the nutrition center and talk to Vincente," Red noted.
"I'll do it," Sy said.
"It will be dangerous," Peter replied. "If you're confronted you won't have the proper identification. They'll take you straight to the brig."
"I'll slip into one of the barracks and borrow some clothes so I'll blend in. No one will suspect anything."
"I don't know. It's a small base, I'm sure all of the officers know each other."
"Not necessarily," Red interjected. "Back on Pogo Island personnel were coming and going everyday. I saw a lot of new faces, especially in admin and the armory."
"That's true," Peter said. "With civil war on the horizon I'm sure there will be a lot of new personnel on base. All right. I guess that's as good a plan as any. . . . But how do we get Tam away from his squad without anyone suspecting anything?"
"He could fake an injury or illness," Red said. "On the way to the infirmary we'll grab him. It'll probably be a kyloon or so before someone misses him."
"That's a good idea," Peter said. "That should give us time to get well into the mountains. By the time they come looking for us, it will be too late. We should be able to make it back here to Shaft 22 before daylight. If they try to pursue us in the daylight they'll have the Drogals to contend with."
"What about Vincente and the other soldiers?" Red asked.
"Vincente, I'm sure, will have a plan for that. We'll help anyway we can."
They slept for awhile. At midday they proceeded to Pegaport's eastern perimeter. The mountains were densely forested with a variety of evergreens which provided good cover. Sy left them and made his way to one of the officers' quarters that looked deserted. He wore a personal communicator on his lapel so they would be in constant communication.
"I'm going inside," he said.
"Okay, good luck," Peter replied.
While Sy was out of view they carefully observed the layout of the base and the traffic patterns. They were directly behind the athletic fields and armory. To the north was an airstrip and to the south the officers quarters. Beyond the armory was the base headquarters, classrooms, the nutrition center, parade ground, and a brig. On the opposite side of the base, bounded by the river and the sea, were the base commissary, recruit barracks, and a large hanger. Fortunately most of the base activity was in the central part around the headquarters building, classrooms, and nutrition center. The athletic field was deserted, except for a handful of joggers, and there was but one guard at the armory.
"How about I go jogging?" Sy said over his communicator. "There's a complete jogging outfit spread out on one of the bunks."
"That's a good idea. You can do a few laps to enhance your cover before you go to the nutrition center."
"All right. Give me a minute—crap, someone is coming." There was silence for a few loons. Then they could hear a scuffling sound through the communicator. Peter's pulse quickened as he feared Sy had been discovered. He knew it would be a disaster if he got caught. What would they do? Suddenly someone emerged from the officers quarters dressed in a jogging suit. "That was close," Sy whispered.
"What happened?" Peter asked, feeling a flood of relief come over him. "We lost you there for a moment."
"A couple of officers walked in so I had to grab the suit and take it to the showers. I don't think they saw me."
"Thank God and Sandee."
They watched Sy walk briskly north to the athletic field where he started jogging around the track. There were several other joggers and he was about to pass them when he asked, "Should I salute these guys when they go by?"
"Jeez, I don't know. I don't think so," Peter said. "Not when you're in jogging gear. That would be stupid."
The joggers passed and Sy nodded but didn't salute. They didn't seem to notice. When he had completed two laps he slowed to a walk and started toward the base headquarters. He stopped a moment to read a message board in front of the main building. When he turned to leave a group of officers confronted him.
"Soldier," One of them said. "What's your name?"
"Lt. . ..ah, Tenyon, sir," Sy stuttered.
"Tenyon? Haven't seen you around before."
"Yeah, well I just shipped in from Pogo Island."
"Oh, really? I didn't hear about anyone checking in this week . . . That jogging suit, doesn't it belong to Colonel Armijo?"
"Ah. . .yeah, right. He let me borrow it. My gear got lost."
The man frowned, then shook his head and said, "That figures. . . . All right, carry on."
Sy nodded, turned, and resumed his trek to the nutrition center. The officer who had questioned him continued to watch him for a moment and then turned to another officer and said something. The other officer looked toward Sy and then disappeared into the headquarters building.
"Sy, we may have some trouble brewing," Peter said. "You better get inside quickly and find our man. I don't know how much time you have."
"Yeah, sorry. I guess that sounded pretty phony. It was the best I could do."
"No. I doubt I could have done any better. Just get in and out of there in a hurry."
"Will do."
Sy walked inside the nutrition center and for some reason the moment he stepped through the door the communicator went dead. "Sy? Can you hear me? Sy?"
There was no answer. Peter looked at Red. "We lost him. Crap! How did that happen? The communicator is supposed to have 99.9% coverage."
"I don't know," Red said. "I've heard there is one material that can block it—giddium, I think."
"But giddium is expensive," Peter replied. "I can't believe they'd line the nutrition center walls with it. More likely somebody grabbed him. I can't believe this."
"Should we get over there and see if he's in trouble?"
"No," Peter said. "Maybe his battery went dead. That's happened to me before."
The batteries they used were heat rejuvenated, so it wasn't likely there had been a battery failure. It was just an excuse to avoid thinking the unthinkable. It would have been extremely dangerous for all of them to walk into the nutrition center. That would have been too many unfamiliar faces all at one time. So, they nervously waited for what seemed like a kyloon. At one point Peter almost decided to risk it and go in after him, but he somehow restrained himself knowing that eventually he'd have to come out, one way or another. Finally, Sy emerged from the nutrition center and began to jog back toward the athletic field.
"Sy, you all right?" Peter asked.
There was no answer, so he assumed his communicator was still on the blink. They watched him silently as he ran another two laps and then walked quickly back to where they were hiding.
"Sandee. I thought you were a goner when those officers went in," Peter said.
"Me too. Fortunately, they didn't see me."
"Were you scared?" Red asked.
"Nah. I'd of thought of something had they confronted me."
"Thank God and Sandee that wasn't necessary," Peter said. "So, did you make contact with our man?"
"Yes, I took him aside and told him our plan. He said he'd get the message to Tam when he came in for dinner."
"Good. Did you tell him timing was critical? We need to do this just before sunset so it will be dark when we go back through the mountains. We want to make it hard for them to follow us and we don't want to have any more encounters with the Drogals."
"Yes, I explained that. He said there
is a warehouse for the nutrition center just south of the infirmary where one of us could hide until Tam came by. He said he'd leave it unlocked."
"Good. What about him and the other soldiers?"
"They have a transport plane they plan to heist. They want us to fly over when we leave the island and hit a few strategic targets. During the confusion they think they'll be able to get their plane off the ground and escape. Amongst the targets you'll be hitting are the Muscan Missile Launchers. You've got to knock them out or none of us will make it off the island."
"Did he tell you where they are?"
"Yes, he said they are underground, just north of the airstrip," Sy replied. "He said to aim for the yellow lights at the end of the runway and you'll hit them dead on."
"Good. Should be a piece of cake."
"A piece of cake?" Red asked.
"Ah. . . . that's an expression back on Earth . . . you know . . . it means, it should be easy."
"Right. A piece of cake, but what is cake?"
Peter smiled. "It's a fluffy, sweet food that is served on special occasions—like birthdays. It's really good."
"Hmm. I should like to taste it sometime."
Peter nodded. "I actually saw it on the menu at a restaurant in Shisk. Maybe I'll take you there someday. It won't be as good as what my mother baked back in Dallas, but it will probably still be good."
Tears began to well in Peter's eyes as he thought of his home and family. He suddenly felt congested and choked up. Sy gave him a queer look.
"You okay?" Sy asked.
Peter wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. "Yeah, I'm fine."
Sy smiled sympathetically and said, "I miss my mother too."
"Yeah, but at least you can call her and talk to her, and when the war is over you'll be able to see her again. I’ll never have that opportunity. . . . My mother thinks I'm dead and she’ll never know otherwise." Sy and Red just looked at Peter in silence. Peter swallowed hard. "Anyway, we should get some shut eye. We'll most likely be up all night. You guys sleep now and I'll keep watch. We'll each do two kyloon shifts."
Sy and Red nodded and started looking around for a place to sleep. While they were sleeping Peter played Tam's extraction in his head. Then he thought about the targets they'd have to hit as they left the island. There was the armory with a large supply of weapons, the big hanger housing two dozen or so assorted aircraft, base headquarters, and the officers' barracks where, with luck, they might take out the base commander or even a visiting general, and, most importantly, the Muscan Missile launchers. If they didn't knock that out, well, the war might well be over for all of them.