Echoes of the Storm

Chapter 6

Berg strode into the Ops Center at HQ. His gaze shifted apprehensively from Norse's office at the back of the room to a row of workstations where junior officers and tech analysts poured over digital maps or deciphered intercepted code. Notes and charts were projected on the walls. He acknowledged techs working the comm boards, then approached the officers gathered in the front of the room.

Norse would be watching from behind the blaster-proof panel that separated his office from the rest of Ops. Berg felt his face warming. He could picture the smug look on Norse's face, one that matched the voice that had questioned Berg's ability to properly carry out the order to kill the traitor Tic Ford.

I hit him. Point blank. I know I did.

This show me his body was a huge waste of time and energies.

Covering his anxiety, Berg laughed with the officers. Norse stepped into the room, and everything grew quiet. Even the static from the open comm subsided. Berg nodded to Norse politely, and was met with a look of indifference. Sweat tickled his neck and he quickly joined Senior Captain Lirrani by the ground-based radar terminals. Data scrolled down the techs' screens. Standing rigidly behind the op, Berg synchronized his digipad with the intel. He paused to check the SITS board, still aware of Norse's scrutiny.

"Captain," the comm tech called to Lirrani. "Reinforcements being requested in sector twenty-two."

Lirrani watched the SITS board out of habit, but troop locations and reported enemy activities were etched in her memory. Secured areas gleamed bold green. A pocket of resistance remained, indicated on the war room map by a sickly shade of orange. "Labet is closest. Order his squadron toward Mr. Vipern's position."

"Yes, sir," the tech replied.

"Get me an update on the zone northeast of the spaceport and..." Lirrani trailed off as Norse strode down the stairs.

"Perhaps Chief Berg would enlighten us on that region," Norse offered. He stood straight, hands pressed behind his back, like a parent scolding a child.

Lirrani nodded. "Excellent idea, Ambassador."

"Certainly, sir." Berg stepped forward. "I have my report right here."

"I am sure it is fascinating, Chief. However, I am most interested in Atticus Ford's fate. Did you recover his body?"

Berg cleared his throat. "No, sir."

Norse's icy stare sent a chill through the room. "You shot the man at point-blank range, Chief Berg. Can you explain how he crawled off the tarmac and disappeared into heavily-wooded, hilly terrain?"

"Riga troopers may have grabbed him," he said, the excuse sounding weak to him, and likely ridiculous to Norse. "They couldn't have gotten far. The fighting in that area has been intense."

"Have you considered he may have been picked up by our own medics and taken to a field hospital, or perhaps to the MedCenter here in the city?"

Of course I did. "His name isn't listed among the wounded," Berg replied. "He hasn't been admitted to any hospital. Dead, alive. He'll turn up soon."

"I don't want excuses, Chief. I want Ford. And actually, I believe I'd like him alive. He'll be more useful to us that way. Bait." Norse nodded slowly. "Yes," he added, "much more useful."

"Understood, sir." Berg swallowed hard. He tried not to think about Norse's plans for Ford, too distracted by what Norse would do to him if he failed.

"Ambassador," the comm op called, "MedCenter for you on three."

Norse nodded, his gaze still directed at Berg. "Pipe it to my desk, Sergeant," he ordered. Turning, he walked to his office and closed the door.