Let the Midnight Special Shine a Light on Me

[Ethan Neufeld 0]

The woman looked like she was ready to faint as she approached Ethan at his voiceless behest – a combination of fear, levels of adrenaline to which she was unfamiliar and possibly mental exhaustion, he surmised from her appearance. And there was little doubt in his mind that his frosty, efficient manner wasn't helping.

 

Smoothly he moved to stand between her and the bulk of the hostages. It was obvious to him from the beginning that his tactical philosophies were different from those on the Qob; among those differences: not allowing the enemy to determine the force continuum. He'd reluctantly followed Pher's direction to set their weapons on stun; came to regret it when he witnessed her first ineffective shots on the raiders and switched back to kill, netting the first downed raider. In his experience, letting the enemy control the rules of engagement and tactics would result in casualties or defeat on his side. They were lucky that Byblos had only taken glancing hits and lived to tell about it.

 

He'd also been taught to treat all hostages, victims and allies lost behind enemy lines or unknown and uncertain contacts as potentially hostile. It was a method he suspected some of the Qob might not share. The inexperienced might see it as heartless or overkill – he knew his share of hostages who did – but like everything else it was designed to ensure his survival as the rescuer. Whether they believed it or not, when he protected his own life, he also more effectively protected the hostage's life. They'd probably never understand that until they were in a situation where unwise assumptions followed everything south. A hostage might look innocent to the naked eye, but there was never room to negligently assume. People could act unpredictably, abnormally under duress, be 'bought' or reconditioned; tricks could be played. Only when they all made it safely home or fully secured the scene and verified or turned over the hostages to other units, was there time to relax. Survival meant treating anything as possible and preparing for that. It also meant having absolute confidence in teammates and their abilities. Being a guest on the Qob, Ethan was still shaky on that element. But, as he exposed his back, he involuntarily trusted that William and Robert had thought to search the hostages for weapons and sleepers, or would at least notice and swiftly deal with any sudden or suspicious movements before he unexpectedly took one in the back.

 

"No sudden movements and keep your hands where I can see them," he warned lowly while trying bring an equally reassuring edge to his voice. As trained, his attention was focused on her, but not so much that he became unaware of his surroundings. He kept his weapon at a low ready; the safety had been reapplied for the moment. "If you see him, point out Holstrum."

 

The woman looked at him with abject confusion at first. Then she nodded understanding in small stages and threw up her arm intending to point around him. Her eyes grew wide as he lightly slapped his left hand over her wrist and grasped it to stop her.

 

"Slowly," he admonished. "Point 'through' me if you have to, but don't let him see you."

 

She nodded again and pointed in a line slightly over his heart. "Fifth one on the right," she said, gaining some courage but barely managing above a whisper through her dry throat.

 

"Thank you," Ethan replied with a faint smile. He gestured to his left at a space in the corridor between Troy and William; separated from the other hostages for her safety if things went bad, but still within view of their guards without reducing reaction time. "Please take a seat."

 

After the woman sat down, Ethan quietly tapped Joe on the arm and caught William's attention with a glance. He gestured toward Holstrum behind the cover of his body and followed with a signal to hold and watch. Then he began to swivel to his right and took his time to make eye contact with each hostage as he went, hoping that Holstrum wouldn't become wise to what was happening and bolt. Ten to twenty seconds passed before Ethan's sight settled on the wanted man.

 

He was just as the Vulcan engineer and Alex had described him; slight of build, maybe 170 centimeters tall, with thinning, brown hair over deep-set, tired eyes. Ethan could see now that he wasn't just wiry; his baggy clothing hung over a frame that suggested he should have been more stout, and his face looked gaunt with faintly hollowed cheeks and a sharpening bone structure. He was fidgeting with something, frenzied eyes darting up and down the passageway and showing a particular interest in Joe and Troy.

 

"Holstrum!" Ethan deliberately called out. Several sets of eyes fell on him, but it was Holstrum's that grew wide as he realized he was drawing unwanted attention and recognized.

 

Ethan immediately raised his carbine from its low ready and leaned into it, consciously flipping the selector to stun. "Stay where you are Holstrum; show me your hands," he warned as the Engineer began to shrink and slide down the bulkhead like he meant to run. Now Ethan had the other man's terrified attention and he was almost 100% certain this was the one and only Holstrum. Those who had been standing or sitting around him began to move away; some looked alarmed while others wore a perceptive bleakness or approval.

 

The Engineer showed his shaking and empty hands. "On the ground," Ethan vocally directed, holding his weapon fixed and unmoved from Holstrum's center of mass.

 

A million thoughts passed over Holstrum's face as he stalled; run, charge, escape, fight. For a moment, Ethan alternately thought he'd be forced to tackle or even shoot the unarmed Engineer and he feared that was exactly the reaction Holstrum wanted to provoke. Then, abruptly, he crumpled into a heap and began to sob.

 

"Please don't shoot me," Holstrum begged miserably into the carpet. No hostage moved or made a sound; they only stared.

 

William watched his back as Ethan steadily worked up to where Holstrum lay. He briefly held his rifle aside, quietly patted the man down for weapons and found only a small subspace transceiver and an ancient-looking tricorder. Collecting them, he stood and backed away, eyes on Holstrum and the hostages.

 

"He's clear," he dully announced to Captain Manning.

Edited May 9, 2011 by Ethan Neufeld