The Soldier
Chapter 12

Fritz cautiously worked his way towards slowly the engine room with a satchel containing the explosives over one shoulder.. Despite the fact that it appeared that no one was on the ship, he still expected to come across security teams. He was two levels below the bridge and roughly amidships. The engine room was six levels down and more toward the stern. With any luck the elevators a few sections away would still be working.

Even though it was his idea, the scheme tore at his heart. He had served on the Morning Star for five years and knew her intimately, knew every nook and cranny and every idiosyncrasy of her systems.

As he walked down the corridor he unconsciously allowed his right hand to drag along the rails and bulkheads as if saying good-bye. The problem was he knew that she was doomed anyway. It’s not like the Americans would call Europe and have them send another crew over -- that just wasn’t done. All the Company would get was most likely a curt message about how there was an “accident” causing the loss of the ship and all on board. Knowing the Americans, probably not even an expression of sympathy.

So they had no choice At least this way, she would give all of them a fighting chance to make it ashore and disappear.

It occurred to Fritz, somewhere in the back of his mind, that once they were in America he would have nothing to do, no family, no way of making a living.

“What are you thinking, lad,” Fritz said out loud. “This is America, they’re bloody rich here. Everyone knows that.”

He finally reached the elevator. He touched the call button, and wasn’t too surprised when all he got in response was a nasty buzz instead of the pleasant chime that indicated a car was on its way.

“Ok, so I have to climb down a few flights of stairs, a bit of exercise’ll be good for me.”

Before starting down the steep mid-ship stair, Fritz took the 9 mm Glock from its holster and checked to make sure it was loaded and ready if needed. There was a large clang and a rumble as the American shore crew fired up the cargo cranes and began to offload the 1,200 cargo containers carried over from America.

“Time’s running short, get moving lad,” Fritz said to himself.

By the time he reached deck six, Fritz was breathing a bit heavy. He told himself it was just nerves, and glanced up, not looking forward to having to climb all the way to the top of the ship while the reactor was beginning to build towards a meltdown below him. He snorted at himself.

“Now Hammergalt, stop worrying about ‘what ifs’ and get on with the task at hand,” he chided himself. Then he cautiously opened the door. Not seeing anyone in the corridor he stepped out. Gun at the ready, he moved to the doorway into the engine room. Fortunately, the keycard Logan had acquired from the American guard worked, so he was able to easily get inside.

The engine room was one deck below the main engineering deck, with the reactor itself in a sealed room one deck below that was only opened during refueling operations. Fritz moved cautiously from through the engine room into the main drive room. Satisfied no one was in the compartment, he holstered his pistol and took out the first of two charges he planned to set.

Fritz opened a panel in the wall to reveal the pipes from the main cooling system which used onboard stores of fresh water. He attached the explosive device and set the timer for 10 minutes.

He closed the panel and went to the other side of the room. Behind another panel were the pipes from the backup cooling system. He placed the charge, also set on a 10 minute delay.

He reached over and affectionately patted a bulkhead with his left hand.

“Sorry to have to do this to you, old girl, but you have to keep the Yanks busy while we make good our escape.”

Then started the timer with his right. He then quickly moved to the main cooling system and started the timer on the explosive that would destroy that part of the system.

The Star’s first officer than took one last look around the room, sighed and headed for the door.

So far, so good, Fritz thought as he made his way back to the topside to rejoin his shipmates, including that troublemaker Logan and his lot. If they hadn’t picked his ship to hitch a ride on, he wouldn’t be looking at spending the rest of his life in America. Fritz’s mind continued on that line of thought as he moved towards the stairs. On the one hand, life in America would have to be better than in Europe, at least if you believed the stories that kept making the rounds. On the other hand, it would mean not seeing any of the birds he had been keeping company with recently. Oh well, Fritz was confident he would replace some American woman -- or two -- willing to share his bed.

Frtiz was jolted back to reality when the doors to the stair opened while he was still a good 20 paces away. He froze for a moment wondering of it might be Logan or one of the others. No, he told himself, Logan said they wouldn’t wait for him, which probably meant they wouldn’t be coming looking for him either.

Fritz quickly spun and dove for a nearby door, which of course was still under lockdown and refused to open. As he turned and looked back, he saw Americans just as they saw him. They raised their pistols and he saw the red dot of a laser play against his chest.

He saw a small alcove across the corridor --- it wasn’t much but it was all he had and he moved quickly towards it. As he moved he heard the crack of a pistol shot, followed immediately by a burning pain in his right arm and the sound of the bullet ricocheting off of the metal wall. He glanced at his arm and was relieved to see that he was only grazed. It would bleed a bit and hurt like hell, but it wouldn’t hinder him, at least not yet.

He popped out, taking three quick shots and the Americans before he ran for someplace that would provide more cover. He twisted and turned through the maze of corridors eventually stopping at a junction. He could hear the echoes of the pursuing Americans.

He tried to figure out where he was, where he could go and why the hell these schmucks were hunting him. Hadn’t they all just decided to leave us the hell alone? Then it hit him – the thermal trackers. As long as they were all together in one place, the damned Americans probably didn’t care too much. They would just off-load the cargo and scuttle the ship. But once they saw Fritz’s heat signature move off on its own, they figured out he was up to something and sent these boys to stop him and replace out what he had done.

Fritz checked his watch. About seven minutes until the explosives went off. He only had to stall them that long, then maybe he could make his way out unnoticed, when, and if, the Americans sent more people onboard to try and stop the reactor from going critical.

He checked his ammo supply -- the clip in his gun was about half-full and he had two extra clips on him. That didn’t give him a lot of wiggle room – so every shot had to count.

He quickly squeezed off four shots, winging the American who had grazed him and causing all four to take a step backward. That was just enough of a distraction to allow Fritz to sprint up an adjoining corridor.

“How long do we wait?”

Logan looked at Willie.

“Fritz said it would take him 15 minutes to get down to the engine room and set the charges. I assume he used a timer and is not planning to blow himself up, so I figure we won’t hear anything for another 10 to 15 minutes.”

Logan looked out of the plate glass. All he could see was the interior of the docking bay.

“You know, Logan, after coming so far, it really would have been nice to actually get a look at America. I’d really rather not die inside this damned Wall,” Willie said.

“We’re not dead yet, old man,” Logan said simply.

“No we’re not, but what if old Fritz didn’t get the job done?” Willie said, looking at a monitor that showed the cranes working diligently to remove cargo containers. “Those cranes will eventually get the last container off the ship, then what do we do. Just sit here and watch as they push us back out into the Atlantic and then sing camp songs as we sink into the briny depths?”

“No, we are not just going to sit here and wait to be drowned like rats,” Logan said.

He thought a moment. “I’m going after Fritz. Either I’ll meet him on his way up, or he’s in trouble of some sort and needs a little backup.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Caitlin as she stood and walked over to where Logan and Willie were talking.

“Why?”

“Simple. This entire adventure is your idea. If you get yourself killed down there, it leaves the rest of us without any clue as to what to do.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back.” Logan checked his watch. “Give me 10 minutes. Even if you haven’t heard a big boom, I want you to start heading out. Find an open door, hitch a ride on a container, I don’t care. Do your best to get off the Star and into America.

“Don’t wait for me and Fritz, we’ll replace you outside.”

“How?”

Logan smiled at Caitlin.

“Don’t worry, we will.”

With that, the tall former British commando reached into one of the packs and pulled out some extra clips for his Beretta which he tucked into various pockets of his vest. Then he pulled out the gun, pulled the barrel back to chamber a round and headed for the door.

“Remember, 10 minutes and you move out, whether I’m back or not.”

Down on Deck 6, Fritz was playing a game of hide and seek with the Americans, trading an occasional shot. Fritz thought he had taken one of the four out. He checked his watch and his ammo.

“Four minutes and 20 bullets,” he said to himself.

He carefully poked his head around a corner, barely pulling it back before the Americans at the other end sent a hail of bullets in his direction. Fritz brought his gun up.

“You know, you Americans have a decidedly unfair advantage over me,” he called as he looked for an avenue of retreat. “I mean, automatic rifles against me and my poor little pistol.”

The Americans only response was another barrage of bullets.

“I guess they don’t feel much like talking,” Fritz said.

The first officer decided he had sat still long enough. He leaned out into the corridor and fired two quick shots in the general direction of the American team – not hoping to hit anyone but with the goal of just getting them to duck under cover as he dived across the corridor. It seemed to work as he was able to make it to the doorway he had spotted without having to dodge more flying lead.

He reached up punched the control button, but got no response. Even swiping the key card did not work.

“Of course it’s locked,” he said. “Every damn door on this ship is locked. That really limits one’s escape options.

“Now what the hell do I do?” figured he had a little over three minutes before the explosives went off. He resigned himself to being killed by the blast but took some solace in the thought that the Americans would be going with him. Then more bullets began to fly. It took him a couple of seconds to realize that bullets were coming from two directions.

“Stay ready Mr. Hammergalt!” Logan’s voice came from the other end of the corridor.

He didn’t have to wait long. There was a quick burst of fire, then one word. “Move!”

Fritz didn’t hesitate. He sprinted up the corridor and dived around the corner just as gunfire erupted from where his rescuer had pinned them down. Fritz looked up as Logan handed him a few extra clips.

“I assume you need to reload,” Logan said, his voice icily calm.

“I do,” Fritz replied as he took the ammo. “I thought you wouldn’t be waiting for me.”

“Well, I changed my mind, hope that’s OK with you.”

Fritz nodded. “But more importantly, we need to put some distance between us and the engine room before it goes boom.”

“How long?”

Fritz checked his watch. “Two minutes, maybe less.”

Logan nodded grimly. Then he called down the corridor.

“Look lads, there are explosives set to go off in the engine room in less than a minute, I suggest you clear out.”

He ducked back as he got a hail bullets in reply.

Fritz had a dumfounded expression on his face.

“What the hell are you telling them for? They’re the ones trying to kill us.”

Logan looked up at Fritz. “They’re just doing their bloody jobs. I’d prefer to keep the body count as low as possible.”

“But we need to move, less than a minute,” Fritz said, then noticing that something helpful. “Stairwell, over there.”

Logan and Fritz dashed for the door to the stairwell as bullets flew around them.

They went inside and started climbing. They were only half a deck up when the explosives in the engine room went off. The shock threw them against the railing. Fritz started to fall over but Logan grabbed onto his jacket and pulled him back upright. They looked down and good see smoke and some fire just inside the hatchway they had just come through.

Caitlin and the others looked up at the sound of the blast. The explosion was immediately followed by alarm klaxons. The sound on the bridge was deafening. Willie immediately took his pistol and shot out the speaker.

“Much better.”

Caitlin looked over at the captain.

“How long until the reactor overloads?”

“Fritz could tell you better,” Clifford said as he looked first at the door through which Logan had left the bridge and then at Caitlin. “We don’t have time to wait.”

She sighed.

“I know. And he said not to.”

Caitlin looked at a console that displayed a laundry list of warnings, including the impending reactor overload. She glanced at another that was showed the door out to the Atlantic. The door was beginning to move.

Willie walked over and place a hand gently on Caitlin’s shoulder.

“We need to go, now, we don’t even know if they survived the blast. And if we don’t move soon, we’ll be on the Star when they shove her out to sea.”

She looked up at him.

“I know.”

She looked at the others and squared her shoulders. “Let’s get the hell off this tub.”

Caitlin saw Clifford stiffen.

“Sorry, no offense intended.”

“That’s all right, lass,” the captain said. “But this has turned out to be my last command and I just hate what we had to do to her.”

She smiled.

“Right, let’s go.”

Caitlin shouldered her pack and moved toward the door so she could look out into the corridor. “What about the lockdown?”

“The explosion triggered an automatic abandon-ship protocol,” Clifford said. “Overrides even the docking lockout. We should be able to get up on deck without any trouble assuming the Americans had enough sense to get off first.”

“Assuming,” Caitlin agreed.

Caitlin, Willie, David and what remained of the Star’s crew had made it to the port-side upper deck without incident. They hid behind some remaining Cargo containers. The door to the Atlantic was fully open and the tractor beams were being used as repulsors to push the Star back out.

“Looks like they’ve decided to forgo trying to stop the overload and are giving up on the cargo,” David observed. “Too bad for us, would have given us more time to get off and get out.”

Caitlin scanned the cargo bay, searching for an area where they could leap ashore and also provide some cover. It was fortunate that the bay itself was built specifically to accommodate the cargo ships leaving little extra room between the berthed ship and the docking area itself.

“There,” Caitlin said, pointing. “About 20 meters away, there’s some sort of electrical junction box of some sort. I think that will conceal us for a moment.”

Willie looked where Caitlin was pointing.

“Agreed,” he said.

“Willie, Clifford, and Franklin will go first and we’ll provide cover. Circle around it immediately and be ready to cover the rest of us when we jump over after the ship has passed the box.”

She glanced from face to face. It was clear that this went way beyond what Clifford and the other Star crewmembers had signed up for. She saw fear in their eyes – a she knew was somewhat reflected in her own eyes as well.

“All right, then, here we go,” she said.

But as soon as she moved away from the cargo container, gunfire erupted from both sides of the docking bay. Willie pulled her back.

“Should have expected that,” she said. “All right, then, so much for going in groups. Everyone try and keep the Americans pinned down. Go when the opportunity presents itself.”

“Very well, cover me and I’ll go first,” David said. “That way I can provide covering fire from the shore while the rest of you jump over.”

Willie nodded and began firing rapid bursts, first to one side and then the other. David slung his rifle over his back, grabbed one of the duffle bags of gear and leapt for the shore, his landing appearing to the others as if he floated across. He immediately found cover, brought his rifle up and signaled to the others to jump to shore.

“You next,” Willie said to Caitlin.

“Not on your life,” she replied then pointed at Billie McAlister and the others. “You three, go!”

Clifford, Jackson, McAlister and Cayne went in turn, landing with much less finesse then David had managed. The two crewmembers managed to land safely, but Clifford stumbled and fell, crashing into a wall.

“Damn!” Clifford said as he scrambled to his feet, holding his right shoulder. But he didn’t have too much time to try and determine how badly he was injured as gunshots rang out from the far end of the bay. The men quickly ducked behind the box as Caitlin and Willie fired several volleys in the general direction of the gunfire as David examined Clifford’s shoulder.

“Doesn’t look broken, Capitan, but it’s probably a decent bruise that’ll hurt like hell for a day or two, I’d wager.”

Clifford roughly pulled away from David, which immediately sent bolts of pain through his shoulder.

“Don’t do me any favors,” he growled. “I wouldn’t even be in this mess if it weren’t for you blighters.”

“Suit yourself,” David said as he retrieved his own gun to rejoin what was becoming a descent firefight.

Only Willie and Caitlin remained on the ship, and nearly half of her length was through the docking port. There was a moment of silence.

“Looks like they’re reloading,” Willie said. “Time to go.”

Caitlin started to turn slightly as if she were heading back into the ship.

Willie saw the move and grabbed he.

“No Caitlin, there’s no time, jump off this boat NOW!”

Caitlin appeared to not quite hear him as she turned to look in his direction. Then she looked back towards the opening to the Atlantic, which was getting uncomfortably close. Then she swallowed hard, said a silent goodbye to Logan and jumped from the doomed ship onto the docking bay platform.

She landed a bit rough, but tucked into a roll and ended up on her feet about a dozen yards away from David and the others. As gunfire began again from the far end of the bay, she quickly moved toward the junction box as David sent bullets of his own screaming towards the Americans. Moments later Willie made it as well.

“OK, we’re off the boat, now how do we get the hell out of here?” she asked.

“Well,” Willie said looking back towards the opening through which the Star was moving, “If that way is the Atlantic, then the other direction, logically, must be the way out.”

“In the direction of men trying to kill us?”

“That would be the way,” Willie said.

Caitlin smiled grimly as she poked her head out for a quick look.

“Looks like we also need to get to the upper level to get out of here. No cargo down here and no access doors at that end. They must lift the cargo containers straight up to a staging area up there someplace.”

“Then ‘up there someplace’ is where we need to get,” David said.

Willie nodded. “And I expect we’ll have a fight on our hands the entire way. Check your ammo supplies, and anything else we have that might come in handy.”

Caitlin said ducked as another volley of bullets peppered the ground around them. “You know, they really aren’t very good shots.”

“I noticed,” David said. “Pitiful lack of training, probably due to overconfidence on the part of whoever is in charge. Probably assumed no one would ever attempt or succeed at what we’ve accomplished so far. However that does work to our advantage.”

She looked at him. “What did you have in mind?”

David reached into his pouch and pulled out a flare gun. “A simple distraction.

“If we pop off a couple of flares at them, their lack of experience might just cause them to react badly --- it would give us just a moment or two but if we are ready that might be enough.”

Caitlin looked around what was probably going to be her team for the foreseeable future.

“Any other ideas?”

Getting no response from the others, she turned back to David.

“Looks like your plan wins by default. What do you need?”

“Some covering fire so I can get closer,” David said. “I want to make damn sure I’m in range. If I come up short, they’ll see what we’re up to and we’ll lose any element of surprise.”

Caitlin nodded.

“All right then, off with you.”

Caitlin and Willie repeatedly popped out and fired at the Americans as David moved like a cat up the docking bay. He ducked behind forklift parked along the wall. She turned to look at the others.

“This will work better, gentlemen, if we are all keeping the American’s busy.”

“Right,” Clifford said, “OK Boys, it’s our turn to give them what for.”

Cayne and Franklin picked up their weapons and joined in.

“How will we know when to move?” Clifford asked.

Caitlin chuckled.

“Just follow the light.”

David moved slowly toward the raised platform the Americans were shooting from. He took out the flare gun and took careful aim. His goal was to place the flares on the ground in the midst of the Americans before the parachute they contained deployed. Flares floating in the air would be somewhat less effective as a distraction.

He double checked his own rifle to make sure it had a full clip in it. Lacking any radios, he could only hope Caitlin and the others were ready to move. He looked back towards the group, noticing that the Star had now cleared opening into the docking bay and the huge door was lowering into position.

What any of the Europeans couldn’t see were the larger tractor beams and repulsors on the outside of the Wall that turned the Star so her bow was facing east and shoved the great ship forward, shoving it far enough out into the Atlantic so as it would present no real danger to the Wall when the reactor went critical and exploded.

The Americans had no real concern for what might happen to the Atlantic Ocean, which had become polluted beyond belief years ago. Whatever radiation or contamination were added to the seas by the explosion would be inconsequential.

Inside as he aimed his flare gun, David idly wondered if the Americans would even bother to report the ship as missing. He doubted it, and even when the British shipping consortium listed it as overdue and eventually presumed lost, his family would never know. The next of kin listed in his personnel file did not exist.

As far as his real family was concerned, David Spano would simply have vanished from the face of the Earth.

He shook his head to try and get rid of the distracting line of thought.

“Focus, Spano,” he said to himself.

Then he took careful aim and fired the first flare at the Americans. With practiced precision, he had the second flare on its way before the first one hit the ground.

From their vantage point behind the electrical box, Caitlin and the others saw the bright light of the flares light up the docking bay. Simultaneously, the gunfire from the Americans stopped. Caitlin could imagine the young, untrained soldiers trying to put the flares out and forgetting about their quarries in the docking bay -- at least for the moment.

“Let’s move,” she said.

The six of them began running quickly but cautiously up the docking bay. Caitlin kept her eyes moving, constantly looking for places they could take cover if the Americans recovered and resumed shooting. The team had nearly made it to a stairwell Caitlin assumed would lead up to the level that contained the main exit when more gunshots rang out – this time from behind them.

“Damn, their backup finally decided to show up,” she said. “Take cover!”

She and Willie ducked behind some machinery and returned fire. The others found places as best they could. Caitlin’s mind raced as she tried to come up with a plan. Damn she wished Logan were here.

“We need to move,” Willie shouted over the shooting. “Those flares are going to die out in a matter of seconds. Once that happens will have both sets of Yanks to deal with and then we’ll be caught in a bloody crossfire.”

“What do you suggest?” Caitlin asked.

Willie pulled up his rifle. “You get the captain and the others outside, I’ll cover you, and give David some covering fire as well.”

“No,” Caitlin responded reflexively. “We’ve already lost Logan, I won’t risk the both of you too. We have to stay together.”

“Don’t you worry, I have no intention of being the sacrificial lamb for this little adventure.” Willie said. “But David and I can get ourselves out of here. We have somewhat of an obligation to Clifford and the others, don’t you think?”

Caitlin looked at the former crewmembers of the Morning Star.

“You’re right, of course,” she said. “All right, but you take care of yourself and meet up with us outside as soon as you can.”

“Of course, now take those civilians and get the hell out of here.”

Caitlin reached up and squeezed Willie’s arm. Then she turned and motioned to Clifford, and the others to follow her. She waited a moment for Willie to start shooting before she moved.

As Caitlin and the men moved towards the stairway, her ears picked up the slightly different sound of David’s AK-47 joining Willie’s Browning in providing covering fire.

Caitlin, Cayne, Billie, Franklin and Clifford finally made it to the top of the stairwell. They paused at the metal door they found there to give them all a moment to catch their breath. Caitlin could still hear the sound of gunfire from far below. She looked each man in the eye.

“Ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be,” Clifford said. “Let’s get the hell out of this damned wall already.”

Caitlin nodded and slowly opened the door. She looked into a cavernous room. She recognized the cargo containers from the Morning Star stacked in rows. There was one truck with a cargo container placed on it, but no driver in sight. Several guards stood near the front and back, looking nervously about. Through the opening Caitlin could see a wall of green trees and plants. The sound of animal life reached her ears. She turned quizzically to Clifford.

“Isn’t this bay located in Charleston?”

“What used to be called Charleston,” Clifford said. “I think the renamed it 10 or 20 years back.”

“Then why do I see nothing but trees outside that door?”

Clifford shrugged. “Landscaping?”

Caitlin put the puzzle out of her mind for a moment. “We need a way out of here.”

Then a thought hit her.

“David, you can drive that thing, right?”

“Does it have wheels and an engine?”

“Of course, sorry.”

“But we won’t all fit in the cab,” Clifford said, “And I’m sure the container itself is still locked.”

“True enough, but look -- the slings for the spare tires is empty. Three of us in the cab with David. The rest in the slings providing covering fire, while being extra careful not to shoot the tires.”

“That’s a bit risky for the lot of you riding underneath,” David said.

“Do you have a better idea?” Caitlin felt she was asking that question a lot, but she certainly wasn’t sure of what she was doing.

“Not really. Do we just run, guns blazing.”

“Not exactly,” Caitlin said, turning to Willie. “Set the timers on the explosives your carrying to the absolute minimum.”

“Already on it,” Willie said, who had figured out where Caitlin was going. “Done. About 15 seconds each.”

“We go on three. Start shooting randomly. Willie start the timers and toss them in every direction, just not at that truck. When they go off, run for it. And keep shooting. “Everyone ready?”

Each man nodded slightly, faces set in stone with grim expressions.

“Let’s do this and get the hell out of here.”

Caitlin turned and started shooting at the Americans, who immediately returned fire Willie started the timer on one charge and tossed it, then another and another and finally the fourth. About the time the final charge hit the ground, the first one exploded, the sound echoing in the room and among the containers.

“Go!” Caitlin shouted and the group ran for the truck. There was little gunfire as the Americans either were confused or dead. They reached the truck and David moved expertly into the cab.

“First bit of luck all day,” he said as he spotted the key in the ignition. The truck started without a problem as Clifford and Billie climbed in next to him.

“You fire out that window,” David said to Clifford, “and you just sit still.”

“No problem,” Billie said.

David looked outside. Not seeing anyone, he fired up the truck. “Do you see any of our people on your side?”

Clifford looked than shook his head.

“Then I assume they are down there, if not they are getting left.”

He pushed in the clutch and shoved the lever into first. The engine roared and the truck lurched forward. The sound of gunfire from underneath the vehicle told him the others, or at least some of them, were where he expected them to be.

The cargo carrier accelerated and headed down the only road leading away from the docking facility. The road was lined by lush vegetation. Caitlin’s earlier question about there being so much foliage outside a facility that was in South Carolina’s largest city also briefly passed through David’s mind, but he concentrated on his driving.

That question would be answered later.