Into the Frying Pan: Laying Down on the Job

[Charles C]

Tank had turned off his jamming program on his tri-corder, and switched to active scanning. Everyone within a couple of kilometers and with any kind of power could see him by now, but stealth was less of a problem than making sure he got to Krezek before Starfleet Intelligence did.

He had slowed to a gentle jog when he reached the edge of the quarry. There were half a dozen made man positions that would be easily defensible, even to a much larger party.

The phaser rifle was slung low across his body, held in a casual readiness, not because he thought he'd need it for Jeral, his stupid idea was still the best thing he could come up with and oh how he wished he could have thought of something better along the run, but in case it was Krezek he came upon.

The tracks had remained consistently well hidden, whoever this guy was he certainly knew a thing or two about what he was doing.

A quick thought passed through his mind as he took a few more steps toward a shed where if he'd been in this situation he would have taken refuge, "I really hope it's set on stun, I'd really like to not get shot up today..."

Some moments later Tank opened his eyes into the warm sunlight and the green of the trees. 

Eleanor had always loved this park, he must have taken a nap after their pic-nic. 

It took a few brief seconds, but the disorientation of a mild stun wore off. Tank quickly remembered where he was, not some Lieutenant enjoying an afternoon with his young wife; the wife had died many years ago, the marine was on his back all right but that wasn't grass underneath him, it was gravel. 

He was in a quarry somewhere, and his stupid plan had actually worked. Tank sat up with a groan and put his head into his hands, getting stunned hurt, no matter how light the setting your body tended to tense up and convulse and often times you fell in the most uncomfortable ways. 

Of course the alternative was getting severely wounded, so in this case it was for the best. Without trying Tank noted his bag and weapon had been stripped from his body, though no attempt to tie him up had been made it seemed. 

Well that was fine with him, he knew that shortly Bob would be off on foot trying to slow down any pursuit from the new shuttles that had landed; and with any luck a few of the surprises Tank had left on his trail would slow down any foot traffic directly behind him. They had a few minutes to rest.

Kneeling a dozen meters or so between where he was now sitting up and the shed was a man meeting Krezek's description. 

At the man's feet were Tank's gear, his rifle sitting across the top of the open bag. The man's outdated weapon was casually but pointedly facing in Tank's direction. 

"Jeral Krezek, I presume?" Tank said, clearing his throat of the dust of his fall but keeping his seat. There was no need to provoke the man he had come to save.

<Back at ya FG!>

Colonel Jean "Tank" Chandler

Setting off traps and ambushes, and taking one for the team since 2000

--
Charles E. L. Cadwallader

"Aut viam inveniam aut faciam" - "I will either find a way or make one"