Kilo-61 (Damned of the 2/19th Book 19)- Ongoing

Smarter than I Thought

"What are you after, Ant?" Heather asked me. Her voice was prim and proper and when I glanced at her she had a faintly disapproving expression on her face.

Heather Cromwell surfacing as Melissa DeMarky fragmented apart.

"I need a laptop that can interface with the server," I said, looking at the serial number.

It started with 9E4423, which I remembered was just a standard keypad entry device.

"Makes sense," Heather said as I dug out my green notebook.

"Are we cleared to follow you?" the LT asked.

"No," I said simply. I found the door code that I'd managed to cajole out of the system and punched it in. The status lights flashed for a moment and then the system finally responded and flashed the "WAIT" on the old style LED's. I could feel thumping behind the walls and knew that it was shifting from inert gasses to breathable atmosphere.

I was feeling off. Part of my brain chewing on the data I'd gathered so far from the weapons, their appearance, and how they reacted, another part trying to figure out what that had to do with figuring out where the Kilo Master Control bunker was located, and a third part wondering how Donaldson and everything else fit into it.

I was in unfamiliar territory, with no landmarks or map to guide me, and I always hated that.

The door's readout was still flashing "WAIT" and between "DANGER" and "PURGING", and I sighed and chewed on my lower lip while I was thinking.

"What's taking so long?" The NCO asked.

...you'll have to learn his name sooner or late...

...he won't live that long...

"Electronic devices should be stored in temperature controlled environments. More than likely the interior is pumped full of inert gas and now the system is replacing the inert gas with breathable atmosphere," The LT said.

The NCO scoffed, as did two of the privates, and the old urge to punch them in the mouth reared up for a moment before I got it under control.

"You know what you're after, Ant?" Heather asked me.

"Computer warfare package," I told her. "Software, hardware, firmware."

"Don't forget to grab cables," The LT said. She laughed, and I noticed that her laugh had changed. "It's the number one thing people forget to grab."

"Yup," I told her. "Thanks for the reminder, these aren't gonna be standard cables we can pick up at Wal-Mart or Circuit City."

We were silent for a little while as I took out my pistol and swapped out the magazine, putting the fully loaded pistol back into the holster. Two empty magazines, I'd need to reload them soon. I only had three loaded magazines left and the last thing I wanted was to get caught without ammunition.

Finally the system flashed "READY" and beeped three times in rapid succession at me. I sighed, threw the bar, and listened to the system charging the hydraulics.

"A few hundred yards down there's a rest and refit area. Take a break, but make sure to set guards," I said. "Cromwell, do a set of med-checks on the privates."

"Roger that, Sergeant," Heather answered.

The door hissed open, reminding me of more than a few science fiction movies, the heavy multi-ton door sliding up smoothly and easily. The lines on the walls guided to the various supply sections. I was more worried about portable electronic warfare supply than I was with any of the others, which ranged from sat-coms to vehicle IFF systems.