Ben Hammott - Salvage

Jane placed the newspaper on the bedside table. “You’re right. We have more important and pleasurable things to occupy our time.” She glanced at the tray. “How about you come to bed and help me work up an appetite for breakfast.”

“Your wish is my command.” Jack slipped into bed.

THE SECOND TEAM―formed of six Americans and six British military personnel―ordered to board the vessel and secure the hangar, made their way through the ice tunnel. In the hope they would be better equipped to deal with the threat, Bravo Team had been briefed and shown the horrific footage of the Space Rats killing Alpha Team. When the twelve heavily armed men reached the end of the tunnel, Lieutenant James Miller, Bravo Team’s commanding officer, halted the men. The lights fixed to the weapons held by those in the frontline swept the dark hangar for the killer vermin, but none were caught in the beams.

Lieutenant Miller turned to the two men beside him. “Light it up.”

Flares were struck and thrown into the room in all directions, lighting up the walls, ceiling and the shuttlecraft in their red glow.

Miller turned to Fitch. “Survey the room and let me know what you find.”

Fitch, armed with a new remote control, raised the drone from the top of the cargo ship and did a systematic sweep of the hangar. Paying particular attention to the shuttlecrafts, he searched their underneath, sides and tops for concealed Space Rats.

“It seems clear, Lieutenant,” declared Fitch, who was far from pleased at being ordered back aboard the alien infested vessel. Though the cuts on his leg had been attended to, they throbbed painfully, a constant reminder of his close encounter with the monsters.

Lieutenant Miller addressed the men, “You’ve all seen what we’re up against, so if you spot anything, don’t hesitate to shoot it. Move slow and steady, spread out and move in a line clearing the room as we go. Check the floor, the walls, the ceiling and every object we encounter. We have no idea what other things are aboard this ship, but we can assume most are expert killers. If we are attacked, regroup and retaliate, making sure you focus on what’s coming up around you as well as in front.”

Every soldier was on edge when the Lieutenant led them aboard the spaceship. When they had first learned of what had occurred, all had found it hard to believe. Spaceships and alien monsters on Earth was something out of a science-fiction movie, not real life. However, the graphic footage of the alien monsters slaughtering their friends and comrades had left them with no doubts they were very real and extremely dangerous. And, if the scientists were to be believed, there were things aboard this vessel that made the Space Rats seem like cute and loveable kittens.

All felt a little relieved when they reached the far side of the hangar without encountering the Space Rats or any other alien creatures. Except for the dark stains on the floor, they had found no evidence of the slaughter that had recently occurred here—no corpses or bones. What they did find was the vicious vermin’s point of entry―a hole near the ceiling caused when a support strut had been torn away, probably when the island-sized piece of ice toppled into the ocean. Two men were ordered to guard the hole and shoot anything that made an appearance while the others trained their weapons around the hangar.

Lieutenant Miller spoke into his helmet mic. “Bravo Team to Control, stage one completed. The hangar is secure. Repeat. The hangar is secure.”

In the control room, a rare smile formed on Admiral Thomson’s lips as he stared at Lieutenant Miller’s camera feed. “At last, things were going according to plan.” He turned to Norton. “Send in the engineers. I want two shuttlecrafts salvaged today and I won’t accept any excuses.”

“Yes sir.” Norton plucked a phone from the wall. “It’s a go. Admiral Thomson wants the scout ship and a cargo vessel moved to the ship today…Those are his orders and he won’t accept any excuses. He wants results, so make it happen.” He hung up.

The Rear Admiral smiled at Norton. “Engineers giving you lip, were they?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle, sir.”

“In my experience engineers are lazy bastards. If you let them they’ll take twenty-four hours to do a twelve-hour job. But not on my watch they won’t. They fail to carry out my orders and I’ll have them hung for treason.”

“Err, I’m not sure you can do that, Admiral,” said Norton.

Thomson glared at the Corporal. “I’m the highest ranking officer on this ship and I’m acting on the direct orders of the President of the United States. I can do what I damn well please to complete the mission.”

“Yes, sir, of course you can, sir.”

Thomson pressed a button on the command console. “Lieutenant Miller, the scavenger team is on its way. Proceed to stage two.”

“Yes, Admiral. Confirm Bravo Team is proceeding to stage two.”

Lieutenant Miller led the team, minus the men guarding the rat hole and the two covering the rest of the hangar, over to the large airlock and peered through one of the transparent panels set in the doors. The door opposite was open and the light he aimed through the window picked out the shapes of the storage crates. He checked the men had spread out with their weapons trained on the door to tackle any surprises and then nodded at Wilcox, who had a hand poised over the door control.

Wilcox pressed the button. Nothing happened. He tried again with the same result. He shrugged at Miller. “Perhaps the power’s off, Lieutenant?”

Miller cursed. “Damn! We’ll have to cut through it. God knows how long that will take.” He was about to make his report to the Admiral, who would not greet the delay kindly, when the doors slid apart. He glanced around at the men. “Be prepared for anything.” As the doors opened, he noticed the reason for the delay; the doors opposite were now closed.

When they had checked the airlock was empty, the men stepped inside and Smith closed the hangar door. When it was fully closed the cargo door opened automatically. Flares were thrown across the room, bathing the area in their ethereal red light. Fitch sent the drone in and started surveying the room.

While they waited for Fitch to make his report, the others took a few cautious steps into the room and gazed around at the stacks of storage pods full of unimaginable alien objects.

When the drone had swept the cargo bay and no sign of the Space Rats or any other alien monsters had been detected, the men entered and began a cautious sweep to check for anything the drone might have missed. They had only gone a few steps when the air lock hissed shut behind them.

Miller turned his head and frowned at the closed door. It was their only source of retreat.

“It makes sense it would close automatically,” offered Cooper. “It’s an airlock.”

Miller nodded, but worried it would slow their retreat if they needed a fast exit; he gave one of the men an order, “Sawyer, remain by the door and be ready to open it if we need to make a hasty withdrawal.”

“Copy that, Lieutenant.” Sawyer took position by the door control.

Lit by the flares hellish glow, the men began their search of the maze of alleys between the container stacks.

On the far side of the room the door between the cargo hold and the insects’ domain opened. Mist seeped into the room and concealed within the fog the clatter of tiny claws followed.