Code Red Bounty by Miles Rozak

Author:Miles Rozak [Rozak, Miles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Megaulcite Press
Published: 2024-04-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

As we entered the Excalibur's War Room, its dark contours reverberated with hushed conversations. The compartment was bathed in the cool blue glow of holographic star charts hovering over the conference table where Oxhorn stood, his weathered features illuminated by the ghostly light.

Centurion operators conferred with intel advisors and support staff, their faces reflecting the somber weight of the task at hand. Tess and I took our seats at the polished carbon fiber table embedded with glowing touch panels and data ports.

Oxhorn cleared his throat, the rumble of his voice instantly commanding the attention of all present. "Gage and Tess—just in time!" he said with a curt nod. His steel-gray eyes met mine, a flicker of understanding passing between us.

We both knew what was at stake.

I glanced around the table, taking in the familiar faces of my fellow Centurions. Each bore the telltale signs of the enhancements that set us apart—the glint of cybernetic implants, the coiled tension of genetically augmented musculature. These were the men and women I trusted with my life on the battlefield.

"I see you updated your call signs to Ryder and… Zone Rock," said Oxhorn.

"They're both jokes from old Earth," Tess said with a grin.

"Ah! Well, you'll have to enlighten us sometime. Meet the other members of your escort. You know LavaBear."

I nodded at the burly Centurion operator and resident volcanologist. "Bear."

He crossed his beefy arms and grinned at us through his thick auburn beard.

"And Washington?" Oxhorn asked, his hands on his hips. "'Around here, we call him Zulu."

"Not officially but heard the name!" I said, grinning and shaking his hand. "How'd you get stuck with that call sign?"

"He's very prompt," said Mercedes.

Chuckles rose around the table.

"Really?" I said, one eyebrow raised. "That's saying a lot for special operators. I thought we were all about timing. Guys from my days even collected watches—models they used in their glory days."

Oxhorn smiled. "He used to bust our chops if we weren't an hour early to everything. A little thing that came back to bite Zulu the first time he wasn't."

Zulu shot him a look. "I was forty minutes early," he said.

"Which is late by your standards!" said Oxhorn. "So, Zulu it is."

"It was a holiday lunch in the mess hall—not a mission brief—and my daughter was sick," he muttered with feigned annoyance.

I laughed and shook his hand, as did Tess.

"Zulu's a physicist. The other guy in your infiltration team beats even him with his brains. This is Watcher. Worked for the Intelligence and Defense Directorate. His public role was an IT security 'trainer.' That's all the details he'll tell you out loud. I thought my call sign for him was better—but whatever. It wasn't my call."

Tess chuckled. "What did you want to call him?"

"Qubid," said Oxhorn. "A mixture of Qubit and Cupid. It's good, right?"

"You must love quantum computing," I said, nodding to Watcher.

The short, stocky man flashed a smile. He introduced himself to us both. "Got my PhD in quantum physics and quantum computing," he said, "so, yeah—you could say that.

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