Broken: A Time Lord's Story (Doctor Who Novel)

Chapter 11 The Raid

A/N Fu'shta Regulun for things going south or wonky

 Just before nightfall, H'Tarle sent his reconnaissance team to work. Dressed in shielded uniforms, the team took to the trees surrounding NaV0's compound. They perched on high limbs, scanning the entire compound for heat signatures, weapons, and pesky interior shields. The results streamed to the on-site supervisor sitting inside a cloaked hover transport a mile away.

Supervisor Needril‬ chortled at the information flowing across his monitor. The night got better when the bio-signature of one of Regulus IV's most wanted fugitives popped up. Perhaps, the Continuum wanted a touch of local flavour? Needril didn't really care. The bum was going to jail along with the rest of NaV0's guests. His mouth turned up in a bigger grin when he forwarded the intel to his boss. The man would be ecstatic.

Needril forced the moment of joy aside. He couldn't afford the taste of success to deter him from staying focused on the scans still coming in. He adjusted his earwig and spoke in a series of guttural clicks and grunts, providing his boss a detailed running commentary. The information he provided on the activities and whereabouts of their chief target was vital to the success of the mission. Fortunately, NaV0 remained oblivious to everything but the party. He hoped the pattern continued. Losing her in the mêlée that would occur when the raid hit was not an option.

Shortly after dusk, a few late guests showed up. Their arrival added a new concern: lack of manpower. Earlier reports gave the number of guests at thirty-five, but Needril estimated the number had risen to at least forty-two. H'Tarle had every Borel justice officer, including supervisors and his surveillance team involved on this assignment. Still, guests combining with the thirty guards patrolling inside the mansion and the compound grounds put his forty officers at a two-to-one disadvantage.

He and H'Tarle had trained the officers well and so far, ‬despite their inexperience, he was proud of them. If successful, ‬this stake-out and the raid would boost their confidence. So far, his team held their end up remarkably well. The team missed no one, logging in every new arrival and mapping every possible escape route. They'd committed details of the generator and shields to memory. Now they waited, ready to take down their target.

Needril chuckled. "Gentlemen, cut the chatter," he finally said when commentary crossed over into raunchy suppositions about orgies inside the mansion.

H'Tarle's voice in his ear interrupted. "Yes, sir. Gentlemen, listen up. Our mole reports a dozen prisoners are in a heavily shielded bunker.‭ ‬Calibrate your scans to find the hot spot."

"Got em, Supervisor, but the shielding is standard and there are maybe four guards outside."

"That makes no sense, ‬the man was right on everything else. Boss, did you hear?"

"I did. Tell them to up the scans by twenty," H'Tarle answered, "I don't want one of my officers, or the prisoners killed because someone made a mistake gathering intelligence."

"Boss," Needril reported thirty minutes and three deep scans later, "you won't like this."

Needril was right, the report frustrated and angered H'Tarle. Ever the master planner, NaV0 had created a near perfect trap for anyone trying to raid her compound. Heavy shielding installed around the perimeter gave the impression that she was afraid of the outside world. Minimal shielding installed around the prisoner's building encouraged anyone raiding the compound to head for the easiest target, which was an elaborate trap. They would be dead before they entered: a laser web would cut intruders apart and trigger a bomb that would collapse the bunker. She had a second laser wired into the tunnel. For the next two hours, Needril waited. He hated waiting. It was up to his boss to find a way around the traps.