“A kidnapping?” exclaims Al.
“Think of it as hostage taking only we move the hostage,” I say.
Al sighs. “That new merc manual is getting thicker and thicker.”
“Permission to speak freely, Commander,” says Gunther.
“OK, folks, it’s two hours to touchdown and all ducks are in their rows. All may speak freely for one hour. Let’s get stuff off chests.”
Gunther starts. “What is the goal of this mission?”
“To keep us alive by destabilizing our enemies,” I reply.
“Is one of our goals getting rescued?”
I think for a moment. My first call had been to Azzeed for resupply, not a call for extraction! Was I inadvertently thinking of the “ticket out”? I can see Chin is thinking too.
“Point taken, Gunther. The question is who to extract to? What’s the latest status on events topside?” I ask.
Al answers, “In truth it’s getting ugly up there, real ugly. The mercs are demanding that Nolentov send an extraction team. Nolentov’s fleet commanders are calling it a suicide mission. They want us to surrender and get exchanged.”
Gunther growls. Al continues, “It’s worse than that: The ship’s marines have been mobilized and there’s a suit lock-out in effect. The fleet commanders are very worried about the mercs and now the feeling is mutual. ‘The Old Man’ is coming to mediate, but it will be two days before he arrives.”
“SNAFU to FUBAR,” I sigh. “Azzeed was right.
“OK, topside is out of it for now. If we get extracted it will be by private courier. Who has funds to pay for that?”
I look around; I get blank stares back. “Think about that one. I know we’re supposed to get paid when we land but this time may be different.
“And this is one reason I’m cultivating the friends we’ve made down here. They have access to this planet’s wealth. If things settle down a bit we should be able to use our reward to get us out of here.”
Gunther looks happy with that but now Chin speaks up.
“Do we want to do that, Franky?”
I think for another moment, a long one.
When I say nothing, Gunther speaks up again. “If you’re talking about going native, I want no part of it. I signed up for action, not oblivion.”
Going native is exactly what I’m thinking. It’s considered an occupational hazard by active mercs and their commanders. Like getting political or massacring people it puts a serious blot on your record. It will cut you out from first-tier assignments for years and years if not forever.
So … now is the time to put up or shut up.
“Al?”
He takes his time. “Franky, the three of us have been together quite a while … and it’s been good for me. I’m not about to break up a good thing. I’ll follow you.”
It’s time I made up my mind, and I do. I look back at Gunther. “The three of us are older than you and have been doing this a long time. Our goals are different.”
Gunther eyes close a bit; this isn’t what he wanted to hear.
“You admit there’s no way we can get extracted right now?” I ask him.
“Yes.” He still looks nervous.
“OK. This is what we’ll do: We’ll work to get you off as quickly as we can. But we won’t come. This place will be our ticket out.”
Chin comes over and slides up under my arm.
Gunther doesn’t look happy. “What can I say …” he says. I understand his concern—there must be six dozen ways or so that his reputation can be tarred by our actions. This may be a no-win situation for him and he sees that.
“You can say: ‘I believe you, I trust you, and I’m still part of this unit.’”
Gunther’s military bearing snaps back. “Yes, Commander: I believe you, I trust you, and I’m part of this unit.”
I look in his eyes. They’re clear and calm. I’ve pushed the right button and he’s back in line … for now. But I have to keep my promise to him in mind and I foresee that honoring it may involve some hard, hard choices.