Chapter Six
“Walters to Linares, green team is pressing me hard. It’s three against one. I need help.”
“Mason is coming. Stand by.”
“Copy that.” Kat replied.
Kat ducked around the fence again. Three beams of laser light flashed and struck the fencing. They had her pinned. Where was Mason coming from? The least Linares could have done was tell her the direction.
The three members of green team held position. One of them sprinted toward the flag vault. Kat wanted to pop up and fire, but the other two were still trained on her position. The moment she moved, they’d freeze her.
She peered through a crack in the fence. It was Martina Ramirez. They shared astrogation class. Ramirez reached the vault box and motioned for another teammate. The override must have cycled to require multiple cadets this time.
This was her chance.
Kat crawled to the left edge of the fence. The cadet covering her wasn’t watching her side. She found a rock, heavy enough to make a decent sound, and threw it toward turret six. It clanged loudly against the housing.
The cadet turned reflexively.
Kat rose and fired.
Ramirez’s suit locked up. She shouted a curse as the immobilization system kicked in. The other two green team members spun and fired at the fence. Kat dropped back down behind it.
“Mason, where the hell are you?”
“Mason to Kat, I’ve got it. Status of green team?”
Kat peeked up. All three of them were frozen. She hadn’t heard a pulse pistol. The turret hadn’t fired.
“They’re frozen. And cursing like sailors on holiday,” Kat reported.
“Mason to Linares, green team’s flag is ours.”
“Linares to Mason, copy that. Three down. Two more to go. All team members, rendezvous at the bunker.”
“Copy that,” Kat said. She stepped out from cover and approached Ramirez.
“Hey Martina, see you in class tomorrow,” she said with a grin.
“Go get fragged… but yeah. See you tomorrow.” Ramirez smiled.
At least she’s taking it well. Kat thought.
Kat pushed on toward the bunker. She kept her eyes open for the remaining teams. There were nine teams of six. Linares and his squad had captured three flags. Blue team held two. Red had one.
Kat checked her chronometer. Forty minutes remained.
Linares had the lead. So why regroup at the bunker now? Wasn’t he worried the other teams might try to take their flag?
She reached the bunker and waited. Mishner showed up first, then Guggenheim. Mason arrived a minute later holding the green, silver, and yellow flags.
Finally, Linares and Fran walked in together. Linares removed his helmet. The others followed. Kat did not like how closely Fran was sticking to him. She clung to him like a shadow. Wherever he moved, she did too.
For God’s sake, Fran, just frag him already and get it over with.
Kat chuckled to herself. Fran probably would do it right here in front of everyone, so she kept that one to herself.
“Aren’t you worried they’ll go for our flag while we’re just waiting?” Kat asked.
“No. Gunny signaled all squad leaders. We’ve got ten minutes in our bunkers to finalize strategy. They’re repositioning the boundary fences so we can’t pass through any captured team zones.
“We need one more flag to win the game.” Linares put the data pad on the table and highlighted the grid. Only red, blue, and orange teams remained. Kat agreed with Linares that red’s flag was the logical target. But Littlefield led the blue team, and he wasn’t dumb.
“We think we figured out where red hid the flag.” Linares pointed to a vault positioned between two turrets.
“It’s here. They’ve got two turrets and a pillbox guarding it.”
“Red only has three team members left. They lost three taking purple’s flag. We still have six. It’s simple numbers. And we’ve got an ace up our sleeve.” Linares pointed to Fran.
She pulled two circuit boards from her gear and laid them on the table. Kat recognized them. Motherboards from the turret systems. Fran produced a small tool and went to work.
“How is this legal?” Mason asked.
“Game regs say we can’t use sensors. Nothing about repurposing tech in the field. I had Frannie pull the targeting boards from the red turrets. We’re going to reprogram and reinsert them.” Linares smiled at Fran.
“I found the spanner on the field. That wasn’t an accident. We’re using it.” Fran smiled up at Linares, who patted her shoulder.
“If you pull this off, Frannie, I owe you one.”
“Yes, you do. Dinner at a nice restaurant next day pass,” she shot back without hesitation.
“Deal. Downtown.” Linares grinned. Kat thought she might throw up.
“Battle plan, sir?” Kat asked, forcing the word.
Linares had earned it, but it still galled her. He was good. Risky, but good. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling Littlefield would outfox him.
“Once Frannie turns the turrets, we hit the vault. Game over. I’m positioning you and Mason here, behind the sand hill. Frannie and I hit the vault. Mishner and Guggenheim post along the red border. If red or blue come for our flag, you and Mason flank them. You’re fifty meters from the border. Wait until they commit. Mishner and Guggenheim draw fire. You and Mason strike from the right. Then the vault is ours.”
“It’s a splendid plan,” Kat admitted. Then she asked, “How many does blue have left?”
“Five,” Guggenheim said, catching his breath. “They lost one taking black’s flag. I saw the whole thing.”
“Anything in the regs about alliances?” Kat asked.
“No. But why would Littlefield ally with Ofangu?” Linares shook his head. “Ofangu needs to beat both us and Blue. An alliance makes little sense.”
Kat frowned. “Ofangu is from Nigeria. That’s a culture built on strategic alliances. Tribal, political, economic. He doesn’t need to win. He just needs to make sure you don’t.”
Linares scoffed. “You’re overthinking it. He’s got three left. Nobody hands the win to another team.”
“Are you sure about that?” Kat replied. “If blue takes us down, they get all our flags. That gives them six. Game over.”
Guggenheim nodded slowly. “If red and blue teamed up… eight against six.”
Fran looked up. “Then we move first.”
Linares waved them off. “They won’t coordinate. Littlefield doesn’t trust Ofangu.
Nobody does.”
Kat didn’t argue. She just exchanged a glance with Mason, who was already tightening his gloves.
Kat crouched behind the sandhill. Behind her was the yellow team’s field. It was off-limits. Nothing would come from that direction. Mason kept watch toward Blue’s zone. Fran and Linares had already moved out to the turrets.
“Okay, Frannie, plug them in.”
“Got it. I like Italian, by the way.” She said, opening the circuit panels.
“Huh?” Linares was watching the field. He turned toward Fran.
“Our dinner. I want Italian.” She smiled and snapped the first board into place.
“I know the perfect place in Houston.” Linares looked out across the field again.
“Nice.” She closed the second turret panel. “We’re good to go.”
“Linares to the orange team. Turrets are locked in. I’m going for the vault.”
Kat watched the field. Something still felt off. If she were Littlefield, she’d expect Linares to hit red. She’d stage in red’s bunker and come in through orange’s side.
“Kat to Linares, abort. Blue’s coming from our field.”
“How? Blue doesn’t connect to our zone.”
“They do if they’re in Red’s bunker. If they used the water trap near the boundary fence, they could crawl through. None of us thought of it.”
She tapped Mason. “We’ve got to move. Now.”
“Linares said to hold.”
“We don’t have time.” She jerked his arm.
Linares reached the vault and activated the keypad. A simple prompt appeared.
Override active. Only one tile must match. Ten seconds.
“Damn it, Fran. I need you.” The timer expired.
Penalty. Retry in thirty seconds.
Fran sprinted to the vault and dropped beside him. She read the puzzle.
“Press one and two. I’ll press two and four. Hit the twos together. It’ll unlock.”
They counted it down. Ten seconds.
The turrets fired behind them. The red team had advanced in a widespread. The turrets hit all three. Immobilized.
Dumbasses, Linares thought. Enjoy the front-row seat.
Then it happened.
Pulse fire from the red bunker lit the field. Three blue team members fired at the turrets and disabled them before they could pivot. Systems locked out.
“Kat to Linares, abort and get back here.”
“Too late.” Mason said.
Blue charged. Fran was hit and frozen.
“Mother frag!” she yelled.
Linares bolted back to the sandhill. He slid beside Kat and Mason. But they had missed something. From behind the immobilized red cadets, the rest of the blue team opened fire. They had used the frozen bodies for cover.
Kat and Linares were lit up. Immobilized. Game over.
Mason made a dash for the orange field. He didn’t make it.
“Game is over. Repeat, the game is over. The blue team is victorious. They have captured Orange’s flag, and all captured flags. Congratulations, Cadet Littlefield,” Gunny Jenkins’ voice echoed across the field.
“Son of a—”
“Don’t say it,” Fran said. “Don’t give Littlefield the satisfaction.” Fran said to Linares.
Kat watched the blue team hoist Littlefield onto their shoulders and carry him a few steps. She felt bad for Linares. His plan had been solid. An alliance was a longshot. But long-shots still happen.
Always plan for the unexpected. The enemy always gets a vote. It was a lesson she and Linares wouldn’t forget.