Starlight Gleaming Ch. 16

His next round punched through the house, crashing into the shield again. Tu'ul grunted, but held the protection in place. Almost immediately, a third round hammered the shield.

Flipping off the rifle's safety, I slammed the bolt in, sighted, and answered him. The LRS-12 coughed. Bolt back, and slammed forward. Brass casing ejected, clattering on the floor. Last round in play. A pause, then the sniper tilted, slipping, then tumbling off the roof.

"Get him?" Tu'ul asked, his voice tight.

"Got him."

"Good. 'Cause I'm hit." Then he slid down to the floor and rolled over.

I didn't have time to even check him. Pulling myself up to the shattered window, I sighted down the street, and found the point man, only two houses away. Crosshairs lined up. Squeeze.

The rifle barked again.

He spun sideways. His partner hurried to him, dragging him behind the ChoCac on blocks for cover.

It didn't matter. I was out. Tossing aside the rifle, I checked on Tu'ul, yanking out his shirt and lifting it to check his wound. Blood oozed out, soaking his side. Not an artery, but he was bleeding steady. And that was bad.

"How's he doing?" the corporal asked.

"Fuckin' hurts," Tu'ul grunted. "This armor's shit!"

The other two laughed. "Rabbit's still alive. He's got a lucky name."

"Don't feel very lucky," he groaned in protest.

Pulling my belt knife, I grabbed the curtain from the floor and cut it from the hooks. Rolled it into a line. Wrapped it around him, and tied it tight. Taking the noise suppressor, I tied it over the knot and twisted twice for more pressure on the wound, then knotted it again to hold it in place.

And almost fell on him as a wave of dizziness washed over me.

Tu'ul looked up at me, silent. His face worried.

"Hang in there. We'll get you help as soon as possible." It wasn't much, but I laid the riot shield over him.

Scuttling along the floor, I moved along the outer wall, and drew my pistol. "What I'd do for a grenade. Even a flash-bang."

"I have a flash-bang," the corporal responded. He dug into his pocket. "Here you, sir."

Then I heard something roll along the floor toward me. Reaching down, I grabbed the cannister. And grinned as I held it in my left hand.

"Thanks," I told him.

"Any advice, my lord?" he asked.

"Target their face or legs. Fire until your bullets run out. Don't take time to reload. Just draw another weapon and keep fighting as long as you can. Then if you run out, draw your knife if you have it and keep fighting. It's them or you."

"Yes, sir," both of them answered.

Then we waited.

Several minutes ticked by.

A crash downstairs as they broke down the front door. Half-a-second later, another crash came from the rear of the house.

Tension growing as seconds passed. Footsteps on the stairs. A rush down the hallway.

Suddenly heavy assault rifles fired, chewing up the simple wood and plaster and spraying into the room. Bullets burst through the mattress and box springs. Several ricocheted off the riot shield, protecting the corporal and Lehkitl. The kinetic force was enough to knock the mattress over and bury the two men beneath it.

Then a thump against the door.

With sudden realization, I jumped away from the door. "Down!"

The explosion caught me mid-air, the concussive blast flipped me over, tossing me hard against the far wall as the door shattered into flinders, spraying the room with wooden shrapnel.

A second later, one of the hostiles came in, his weapon on automatic fire, spraying rounds from one side of the room to the other, firing at waist height.

From under the mattress, the two policemen responded, firing away. As the first assailant cursed, the shotgun pellets delivered their harsh punishment to his unprotected lower face and neck, and pistol rounds slammed into his legs.

Another fusillade from the shotgun hit the target, spinning him around.

Somehow I still had my pistol. From the floor, I drew it and aimed, using both hands. As his companion burst in and sprayed the mattress, I fired at his face, shot after shot, then letting my aim drift left, targeting the first man. The men under the mattress continued with their own barrage.

The chaos and deafening noise continued for several seconds, until weapons emptied. Even with the shattered window, the room stank of gunpowder. My ears rang from the noise.

Both assailants staggered back, one swearing and cussing as he dragged his partner out of the way.

The pistol clicked, empty. I tried to retrieve a magazine from my pocket, but a long wave of vertigo took me into the darkness.

* * * * *

The next thing I saw was a bright penlight flashing into my eyes. The overhead light was on.

Tu'ul was gone, and both the corporal and Lehkitl were both getting bandaged by another medico.

Standing behind the man tending me was Bilan, dressed in full combat gear with body armor, short sword and assault rifle, and night-goggles on his helmet. The protective face plate was lifted, so I recognized him. Coming through the broken window was the muffled whump, whump, whump of a combat helicopter in whisper-mode.

"How is he, Sergeant?" Bilan asked.

He looked over his shoulder. "Aside from some glass and wood punctures, no major damage. Unequal pupil sizes. Definite concussion, with possible bleeding on the brain. We need to get him and the one with the gut-wound to a full hospital, Lieutenant, and maybe both of them into the tanks. That means a trip back to Mohingo War Base."

"My men ..." I managed to get out.

Bilan nodded. "They're coming, too, Ranji. And I'm leaving a full squad here to keep watch, in case there's a second back-up team. A transport with a fresh platoon will be here in a few hours. And everyone's safe. The police corporal told us the secret knock-knock. The civilians were cold, but unharmed." He slapped the shoulder of the medico. "Let's move."

Nodding, the medico sergeant closed up his med-kit and slipped the strap over his shoulders while Bilan did the same with his rifle. Reaching down, both of them lifted me up.

As we followed some his team and the two policemen downstairs, Bilan chuckled. "What am I going to do with you, my brother? The way you've been living your life, pretty soon you will be older than I am."

The sergeant laughed.

Before I could even smile, I passed out.

* * * * *

When I woke again, I looked up to see several worried faces staring at me. Bilan. The medico sergeant. Even the police corporal further back in his seat. I was on the floor. Felt the vibration of the helicopter as it flew the night sky, east toward Mohingo. Took in the interior design. Saw the pilot and co-pilot dimly illuminated by their dashboards.

Stay awake, I remembered. "Designation AHH-22, Raptor class, Attack Helicopter, Heavy. Manufactured by Lio Airways ..."

The medico looked at me with concern while I whispered. Focus was paramount.

Bilan scooted close and listened.

"Mission load-out depending on task, whether aerial combat, anti-tank, or ground attack... the Raptor is a proven versatile and dangerous craft in direct attack or in support of Ground Service forces. Capable of carrying up to eight warriors, four stretchers, or two-and-one-half tons of cargo..."

Bilan patted my shoulder. " Stay awake, however you can, Ranji. ETA is ten minutes."

I continued talking while the medico sergeant put away the paddles. My shirt was open and monitors were attached to my chest.

Things were blurry, but I kept on whispering, then mumbling. Anything to focus on staying awake.

Descending, then bright lights. The soft jolt of landing. Fuzziness. Then Bilan climbing into the ambulance beside me. A siren while the medico read vitals into a radio.

Darkness bordering my eyesight.

Lifting. A pause while wheels dropped and clattered onto the concrete. Rolling forward. Bursting through doors. More bright lights. People rushing about, talking urgently. Words not making any sense. The border of darkness widened. Floaty-ness.

Full darkness.

* * * * *

"He's coming around now."

I blinked and opened my eyes. A pretty nurse looked at me and smiled.

"See?" she declared. "He's fine."

Bilan stood the door, staying out of the way of the bustling medical staff. Two day's growth of beard on his face.

A woman in medical green moved in front of the nurse. "Lieutenant. I'm Doctor Haskineet. I want you to follow my hands."

Deedee did that to me once. But she's gone.

Initially groggy, my head was clearing. I did as the doctor asked, then counted out her fingers she held before me. She changed the number of fingers three times. Then she nodded as she wrote on her tablet, apparently satisfied.

They moved out of the way as I slowly got to my feet. Wobbly at first, I felt immensely better. A bit weak, perhaps, but functional. Heel to toe. Turn. Turn. Attention. About face. Touch my nose. Reach up, high. Lean over and touch my toes.

"No ringing in the ears? No headache? Good. The nano-treatments can repair injury, even brain injury, but we're still working on things. Memories lost due accident or combat may or may not come back." As I sat back down on the bed, she held up a folder and showed me pictures. "Please identify them."

"My mother. That's my father. Calia, from about five years ago. That's a really good one of Janetta. Can I keep that? Ixma. My daughter Sisi. My other girl, Mina. How did you get pictures of them? Zinja. Cholan. Actually, they're all good."

She set the folder onto the table by my bed. "Keep them. If you experience any issues of recall, don't try and tough it out. Report it to your doctor because it might mean you need further assessment or even another Nano-Treatment. Okay, I'm satisfied." She made more entries onto her tablet, then smiled. "Feel free to get dressed anytime within the next hour. Lieutenants Monaycote, Kandikan."

The doctor exited.

The nurse came over and detached the patches monitoring me. Giving me a flirty smile, she deftly removed small clusters of my body hair along with the sticky patches. I winced as she worked.

When she was done, she threw away the used patches, put away the machine, and told me where my personal items were. Pulling back the closet curtain, she showed me a fresh uniform and military standard underclothing hanging in the small closet. Then she winked at me before exiting.

Bilan suddenly laughed. "What is it with you and women? Earlier she asked me if you were single and I said no, you were taken. If only she knew how taken you were!"

I held up my hands. "Whatever ideas she has, she didn't get them from me. And I shouldn't be held responsible for anything that I might have said or done while under medication or suffering from brain injury."

"Don't use the brain injury as an excuse in the future. People might get the wrong idea." Then he took a long breath. "So what happened, Ranji?"

"I was on a sanctioned mission, Bilan. I can't talk about it."

He frowned. "That's not what I'm asking about. You were home free once you left Raydam. At least for the time being. How and why did you end up in Uiyatiwitz?"

"Just how much do you know?"

"Some. And I'm in the same situation as you, as I don't know how much I can share. Shit. We're brothers, Ranji, and this doesn't feel right. I know we have orders, but I think we need to come clean between ourselves, despite what the security protocols are, and we need to do that soon. Both of us are in so deep that keeping secrets might get one or both of us killed. If we can't trust each other, we're fucked, and that's for sure."

I nodded. "You're right, Bilan."

"In any event," he continued, "I was told enough to know that you shouldn't have gone to Uiyatiwitz, but should have gone to Tikún or even Tohingo. Instead, you go visiting! But, in the process of disobeying a No-Contact Order, you uncovered the fact that Lady Zaniyah's protection was no longer in place, and hadn't been in some time. Yet the funds paying those people were still going out."

I blinked, then looked at him. "Which means I should be in hot water, but because of circumstances, I'm not. Yay, me. Bilan, I've left a mess here, but you should know that the intel for my original mission was almost non-existent. I had no backup. No safe house or contact number. It's like the design team rigged it so even if I was successful, I'd get caught and die afterward. Since then, I've learned that there are more enemy within Imperial Security, and they have access to sensitive files. My identity is known, Bilan! They might seek revenge on Janetta or the rest of my family. Maybe on those in my command. Even my parents."

"Your family isn't at High Guard, Ranji. They arrived about two weeks ago. They are protected by almost two hundred Ground Service troops with regular aerial patrols."

I let out a sigh of relief. Then I remembered Itznacoco had told me that, and I'd forgotten it. Which was bad. "What about my command? Any news?"

"None. Sorry about that. Your captain might know more. Now quit goldbricking and get dressed. I'm starving. And I bet you are, too."

My stomach growled. "Food would be good. Bilan? How long was I out?"

"Seventeen hours. Four treatments in the tanks, Ranji, with four hours rest in between. They kept you out the whole time." He paused a moment. "The doctors were surprised. According to your records, you've literally had dozens of treatments during your time away. Care to talk about it?"

"When we have that heart-to-heart talk as brothers, away from possible eavesdropping. Not here. Not now." Knowing my family was safe put my mind at ease. But what of my command?

"Waiting is probably smart," Bilan conceded. "But I'll hold you to it. I want some of your time when we get back to your parents' estate. And I will share my side." He glanced at his watch. "Your policemen friends were all treated and released hours ago. They should be at the cafeteria having chow. I thought you should know, that even though you are an officer, they almost put you in with the enlisted, this being a Ground Service facility and you being part of the lowly Air Service. Fortunately for you, your devoted brother intervened and made sure you had a private room."

"Thank you, Bilan," I said, laughing. I went to the sink and rinsed my face, then rubbed my face roughly in the towel, relishing the feeling of the texture against my skin. Taking a deep breath, I turned around. My own face was covered in whiskers. Three, maybe four days worth.

"I knew about the No-Contact Order. I went there because of Janetta. She took her father's death pretty hard as a child, and neither mother nor daughter knew the circumstances of his death. That not-knowing drove them apart. Janetta learned the truth behind his death shortly before I left, and it's helped her a great deal. Janetta's always refused to talk about her mother in any detail, but on the day I left, I think she's finally re-thinking about how things are between them. I've been encouraging Janetta to think to reconsider their relationship. But at the same time, I didn't know if it truly was something I actually should support. I mean, her mother could have been a raging bitch or a psychotic monster. To complicate things, Janetta and her mother are a lot alike. Strong-willed and passionate women."

Bilan laughed. "You mean stubborn and with a temper! And pretty!"

"Yeah, well, that, too. What I didn't expect was her mother's living situation. I had no choice but to intervene."

"Ranji to the rescue."

"Bilan, I saw the War Minister's orders in Janetta's file. If I didn't step in, there was a good chance her continue with her being victimized by the local street gang. And if something happened to her mother while they were estranged? I believe Janetta would take that really hard."

"I was teasing, Ranji. Her mother and neighbors filled us in. You acted honorably."

"Thanks. I love Janetta. Zaniyah is her mother. That makes her my family. I don't care if we aren't legally wed."

"I said you acted honorably. You don't need to explain it to me. You are my brother. You were in danger and now you are not. That's what matters to me."

"The debts we have between us will continue to grow, Bilan. But they are not burdensome because we are family."

"I love you, Ranji. If you try kiss me, though, I will have to hit you. And we are not going to compare cocks."

"Thank the gods." I blinked, then raised my eyebrows. "Do brothers actually do that?"

"Don't know. Don't care. Not doing it with you. It's bad enough the women talk about our cocks, how we have sex, and compare notes about us. And if they deny it, they're lying. Now will you get dressed already? I'm starving!"

Snickering, I removed the hospital gown, tossing it onto the bed. Stepped into clean underwear. Calia had admitted that she and Ixma did talk. I wasn't sure what to think about that. Five women, keeping tabs and comparing notes about me.

"Hey, Ranji, I just realized. I'm the older of us, so that makes you my kid brother -"

"You wish!" I put on my shirt.

"That means I'm supposed to give you shit whenever I can. Since neither one of us grew up with a brother, that means you've escaped twenty years of little-brother hell. So be prepared for a lot of shit coming your way."

I burst out laughing again, and he joined me. When I could speak again, I said, "You know, Bilan, that almost made sense."

"Thanks."

"You forget, though. I outrank you, which makes me the older brother, and you the long-neglected victim of harassment at my just hands. You know what? I actually feel an obligation to make up for lost time. You should get ready yourself." I stepped into the trousers. "Just to be clear, wedgies and noogies are out. And no tampering with each other's uniforms. None of that juvenile crap."

"Agreed. So, is this our first sibling fight? Arguing about which of us owes the other a lifetime of shit? Because I want to mark it on my calendar."

"Will you stop? I can't get dressed if you keep making me laugh."

"You're an officer, Ranji. You are supposed to be capable of great deeds and complex activities. Like talking and getting dressed at the same time. Oh, that's right. I forgot. You're Air Service. That explains everything. If you need help, the Ground Service will show you how to do two things at once."

I raised my eyebrows. "Remind me why we're brothers again?"

Suddenly serious, he answered, "So that if something happened to me, Rana and my boys would be taken care of. And if anything happened to you, I will look after your family as if they were my own."

Then he shook his head, giving me an incredulous look. "I should point out that I've had a chance to think things over, Ranji, and I confess, I am having seconds thoughts about my part in that deal. At least about taking care of your women."

Putting my belt on, I proceeded to fill my pockets. "And why is that?"

"Rana says you must have some sort of wonder dick to keep all those women happy. I wasn't kidding when I told you they talk about it all the time. Frankly, I have to agree with Rana. She keeps me busy almost every night that I'm home. Sometimes she even has me do her twice. If I had to keep Rana happy and I had to satisfy the five women in your household, too? Well, I'm pretty sure my pecker would just break from overuse. Still, it might be fun to try and fill your shoes for a while. For the honor of House Monaycote."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Oh, really? Just to 'keep up' your end?"

"Nice one. With keeping it up being the objective. Of course, taking care of six women would mean leaving the Ground Service, since I would have to become a full-time stud. Stay home all day, smoking tobacco, drinking fine wines, and filling pussies. In and out, day in and day out. Living the life of Ranji."