Rebellion

by Edward M. Grant

  He pulled her hand away. “Keep quiet. I’ll be back.”

  She shivered and whimpered as she leaned against the wall in the darkness. He peered out of the tunnel, into the cavern. From the slope of the roof, it must be the size of one of the hangars at the airport, and the roof was supported by rows of narrow stone pillars that rose from the water.

  He left the girl, and waded slowly out into the cavern, creeping from pillar to pillar until he could see the far side in the IR glow of the goggles’ illuminators. A tunnel in the far wall ended at a ledge about three metres above the water. And something hung from the rock wall just below it.

  No, two things.

  Two men, naked from the waist up, with scars and bruises across their torsos. They dangled from ropes that were tied around their wrists, and attached to metal rings in the cave wall above the ledge. Both swung limply at the end of the ropes, with their chins slumped down against their chests.

  He raised his pistol, and crept through the water toward them. Tiny waves spread out around him, reflecting from the stone pillars, and forming an increasingly complex pattern around him as he swung his legs through the water. He looked up into the tunnel entrance above the men as he approached them. But it was dark and empty, and the only sounds came from the water splashing around him.

  The man on the left raised his face from his chest, and stared toward Logan. The eyelid bulged around the man’s right eye, the cheek was dark with bruises and blood, and the lips were bloated as though he’d been punched a few times too often.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Legionnaire McCoy, sir,” Logan whispered.

  Bairamov chuckled. “Legionnaire McCoy... I told you the bastards couldn’t kill you, didn’t I, McCoy?”

  Logan grabbed the tied ropes around Bairamov’s wrists, and untied them quickly. Then lowered Bairamov until he could drop his arms and lean back against the wall. Bairamov rolled his shoulders and sighed as he relaxed them, then wiped some of the blood from his face.

  Desoto soon followed. He cradled his right arm with his left hand, and winced every time it moved.

  “What’s wrong with your arm?” Logan said.

  “Bastards kept hitting me until something broke.”

  “I had worse in training,” Bairamov said. “You’ll get a week in the hospital.” He rubbed his bruised face. “Maybe I’ll join you.”

  Muffled voices echoed around the tunnel above them.

  “Who’s...?” Desoto began. Logan put his free hand over Desoto’s mouth for a second, then grabbed Desoto’s shoulder, and Bairamov’s arm. The two prisoners could see no better than the girl in the darkness of the unlit cavern. He pulled them away from the wall, and toward the tunnel he’d entered from. He moved a few metres away, until he could barely see the ledge. Then hid them behind the pillars.

  As the echoing footsteps grew louder, He turned off the goggles’ IR illuminators. He didn’t need them right now, as the tunnel began to glow with the beam of a flashlight that swung as the man carrying it strode along the tunnel.

  Three men stepped out onto the ledge, holding rifles at their hips. They leaned over the edge, then pointed their rifles down, and opened fire. The girl’s scream was barely audible over the gunfire as they fired dozens of rounds down toward where Desoto and Bairamov had been just a moment before.

  The gunfire stopped.

  The beam of light from the flashlight swung down from the ledge, and across the wall below. It stopped at the first set of dangling ropes. Then swung to the next.

  Then it swung out across the water.

  “Where are you?” one of men yelled. “Come out. We’re not going to hurt you.”

  Logan almost chuckled at the lie.

  Instead, he grabbed a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and tossed it their way. It clattered as it landed on the ledge, and rolled until it hit the wall behind the men. They yelled, and the beam of light swung back around, pointing toward the tunnel, then along the walls, searching for the grenade.

  Then the grenade exploded. The flashlight flew across the ledge, clattering against the wall as it fell to the ground, with its beam shining out across the water.

  Two of the men toppled from the ledge, and splashed down into the cavern. The footsteps of the third echoed from the rock as he raced away, back along the tunnel. Logan raised his pistol and fired half a dozen rounds at the rapidly receding man, but he disappeared in the darkness as the rounds ricocheted from the walls behind him.

  One of the men in the water was still moving, his arms slowly paddling as though he was trying to stand. His breath came in gasps, and he mouthed words, but nothing intelligible came out. A dark patch was spreading across the water beside him, deep red in the glow of the flashlight.

  Bairamov grabbed the man from behind, and wrapped his muscular arm around the man’s neck. The man still struggled, slapping his hands against Bairamov’s arms, and trying to get hold of them.

  “Not so much fun from this side, is it?” Bairamov said, and smiled. “Much more fun torturing helpless men.”

  A sharp crack echoed around the cave as Bairamov snapped the man’s neck, then grabbed the man’s goggles before tossing him back into the water. The body floated away across the cave, with arms and legs outstretched.

  Logan reached under the water, and felt around with his free hand until his fingers found the cold metal of a rifle. He grabbed it, and slung it over his shoulder. Then found the other, and handed it to Bairamov.

  He pulled spare magazines from the dead man’s belt pouches, and pushed them into his own.

  Logan tossed his pistol to Desoto, then turned his rifle over in his hands. H&K G90 gaussrifle, from the Prussians, not the Islamic State weapons the insurgents had been using before. He’d practised with a G90 during his foreign weapons training just a few months ago. And it would certainly be more useful than the pistol.

  He unclipped the dead man’s body armour and belt, and helped Desoto put it on over his bare chest. Then slid the man’s goggles over Desoto’s head. Bairamov took the armour and belt from the other.

  “Thanks, man,” Desoto said. “What do we do now?”

  Logan nodded behind him.

  Back toward the flooded tunnels.

  “Follow me.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Logan led the way through the tunnels. He could barely feel his legs any more, after the freezing water had sucked the heat away from his flesh for the best part of half an hour. Now it felt like ice right down to his bones. And his balls weren’t doing much better, either.

  Hopefully they’d still work, if he ever needed them again.

  The only sounds in the tunnels were the echoes of the water swishing around them as they strode through the darkness, the muffled yelling of the insurgents somewhere behind them, and the faint scratching and squeaking of the rats that had made a home in the mine.

  The ridged pistol grip of the rifle was digging into his palm as he gripped it hard, ready to fire at anything that moved ahead of them in the glow of the goggles’ illuminators. The tunnels stank of stagnant water, mould, and rotting bodies.

  He pulled the girl behind him by her hand. Her wet clothes clung to her skin, and she shivered and whined.

  Desoto brought up the rear behind Bairamov, staring into the shadows behind them with his injured arm hanging loose, and pistol at the ready. Wearing the goggles, they could all see in the dark. The girl couldn’t. She wasn’t likely to try running away this time.

  Bairamov swung his rifle toward her.

  “So, McCoy. What’s your girlfriend doing here?”

  “The insurgents tried to kill her too, sir.”

  “Maybe they were trying to convince us she’s on our side.”

  “I don’t think so, sir. They threw her down a mine shaft.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Same reason they killed everyone in Saint Jean, I imagine, sir. Same reason they killed the miners here.”

  “All of them?�
��

  “Dunno if it’s all of them, sir. But there are a heck of a lot of bodies in the river down in the valley, and in one of the caverns down here.”

  Bairamov tapped the girl’s shoulder with the muzzle of his rifle. “Nice gang you hang with, girl.”

  Her teeth chattered as she spoke.

  “It wasn’t meant to be like that. We’re not Montagnards. We didn’t ask for them to do this.”

  “It’s never meant to be like that. Everyone thinks life will be just wonderful if they can just get rid of the asshole in charge. One thing I’ve learned is that you’re always better off with the asshole you know, than the asshole you don’t.”

  “Where’s all this water from, sir?” Logan said.

  “The mine’s been closed for quite a while. I guess water must collect down here if they don’t pump it out. I doubt they want anyone here who’d interfere with what they’re planning.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Maybe those wheels Logan saw when he crawled into the mine were supposed to be used to pump out the water from these lower levels. They might well use men to turn them, to save having to bring in more machines. And those men were now floating, dead, in the water around them. The water could have been rising for weeks.

  “What happened to you, anyway?” Logan said.

  “When we stopped the truck outside the mine, they invited us in like old friends. I was just glad I got here alive, and would have trusted anyone with a friendly face after those assholes back at the village. Dumb idea.

  “They shot the Compagnie men and driver on the spot, and surrounded us with RPGs. Nothing we could do but surrender. They’ve had us dangling in the water down here ever since. Except when they took one of us out to beat him.”

  “For interrogation?”

  Bairamov shrugged.

  “For fun, I think. They didn’t really seem to care whether we said anything or not.”

  “How many are there?”

  “I counted about a dozen. But there are probably more.”

  “I heard them talking to Governor Chaput. I figure he must be working with them.”

  “Fucking aristos,” Desoto said. “They’d sell out their own mothers for a few francs.”

  “You’re sure of that?” Bairamov said.

  “The scar-faced guy told the governor there was a surprise coming for us.”

  “Then we have to find a way to warn the Legion.”

  “I tried. Their comms are locked here, and I couldn’t raise anyone through my helmet.”

  “I think they’re jamming everything around here, at least when they’re not using their own system. We couldn’t contact anyone elsewhere after leaving Saint Jean, not even to report that we’d arrived here. Could we hook your helmet into the mine comms somehow?”

  “Do you know how to do that?”

  “Not unless there’s a hole marked ‘plug helmet in here’.”

  “Then how do we warn them?” Desoto said.

  “Our suits are up there somewhere, unless they’ve destroyed them. If we can find those, we can make a load of trouble for them while someone finds a way to warn the company.”

  “How would we do that, sir?”

  “Find some way to stop them jamming us if we can. Or march back to Estérel if we have to.”

  “I didn’t see your suits,” Logan said. “But I haven’t seen much of the mine above this level.”

  Gunfire cracked around the tunnel.

  Logan ducked, and pulled the girl down until only her head was above the water. Then he turned off the IR illuminators on his goggles, as did the others. The tunnel became a black abyss. Rifle rounds splashed into the water or tore chunks of rock from the walls, but none came close enough to hit them. The insurgents didn’t know where they were, they were just firing in the hope of hitting them by chance.

  “Hold your fire,” Bairamov whispered. “And stay low.”

  Logan backed along the tunnel, keeping his right hand against the wall so he wouldn’t lose his sense of direction in the darkness. The others followed, staying as low in the water as they could. Rifle rounds cracked through the air above them for a few seconds more, then stopped. With no-one shooting back, the insurgents would probably soon give up and move on.

  “We have to find a way out of this level,” Bairamov said, keeping his voice low as it echoed from the hard tunnel walls.

  “It’s a fucking maze, sir,” Desoto said. “There’s no way out.”

  Logan stopped as his back pressed against a rock wall at the end of the tunnel. He turned the illuminators back on. The tunnel forked again, left and right. Left would take them back toward the main shaft. He turned to the right, and followed the tunnel that way.

  “Do you actually know where you’re taking us, McCoy?” Bairamov said.

  “Not really, sir.”

  “There are exit ladders near all the working faces of the mine. I’ve no idea where we are, but if we can find them, we can get out.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Some of us study location intel before a mission, McCoy. Don’t forget that in future.”

  “I took a quick look, sir. I didn’t expect to end up fighting in the mine. Or without my suit.”

  “You should expect to end up fighting everywhere. It’s what the Legion does whenever we stop marching.”

  “I can’t go much further,” the girl said “I’m so cold. I can hardly move any more.”

  Logan stood. His body shivered as he lifted his shoulders from the water. He grabbed the girl’s hand again, and almost dragged her behind him, pulling her along fast enough that she had no choice but to keep up. He stared into the shadows at the limit of the illumination from the goggles, looking for any sign of a way up.

  The tunnel turned to the right up ahead, and something dark rose vertically beside the wall nearby. Logan moved on as fast as he could while pulling the girl behind him. Then his free hand closed on the side of a wooden ladder that rose up into the tunnel roof. Logan stopped beside it, and leaned close to the wall so he could look up the ladder. The shaft rose into a tunnel a level above, then continued on upwards.

  “Ladder,” he said, then swung his rifle around to his side on its sling so he could easily grab the ladder.

  “I can’t see,” the girl said.

  “They could have put some lights down here,” Desoto said.

  Bairamov stopped just behind the girl, and crouched with his rifle aimed back along the tunnel. “Cheaper for miners to bring lights down with them than to wire the whole place up. McCoy, let’s see what’s upstairs.”

  Logan climbed a couple of rungs, then grabbed the girl’s hand and placed it on the rung by his knees. He moved higher, and she fumbled behind him for a moment before she found her footing and started to follow. As she climbed behind him into the blackness, Bairamov followed. Then Desoto, moving slow as he climbed with only one good arm. Logan slowed a little to help him keep up.

  Then stopped as his head reached the floor of the next level of the mine. Water dripped from his boots and body armour, into the shaft below. The girl’s hand tapped the rung below him, then slapped against his boot. She stopped moving.

  He looked left and right, but nothing showed either way. Then up. The ladder continued, and the higher they could go, the better. He climbed on, passing the tunnel as fast as he could. The wooden rungs creaked and the frame rattled against the wall, as he climbed.

  The next level was the same, except for muffled yells in the distance. He moved on again. The faster they could get away from the searching insurgents, the better.

  Then the ladder came to an end at the next level. Logan swung off the ladder to the dirty rock floor, then crouched and reached down to grab the girl’s hands as she climbed through from the lower level. He pulled her up, and she swung her ass onto the floor, then pulled her legs out. Her wet dress stuck to her hips and thighs as she clambered to her feet.

  “Where now
?” Bairamov said as he climbed out behind her.

  Two directions. Left or right. One of them was correct.

  But they didn’t have to decide. A light glowed in the tunnel to the left, and Logan turned off his illuminators. A long shape moved in the bright glow beside the wall that way. A rifle lit by the IR illuminators of the insurgents’ goggles.

  He pushed the girl behind him, and raised his own rifle as the glow approached. Then nodded to Desoto to pass by and lead the way. Desoto grabbed the girl’s wrist, and pulled her along the tunnel, away from the approaching riflemen.

  “I see three,” Bairamov whispered.

  “Same here.”

  “Shoot the bastards.”

  Bairamov’s rifle cracked, and the glowing light on the wall jumped as one of the men slumped against the wall. Logan fired too, but his burst went wide, blowing rock splinters from the walls as the man he’d aimed at ducked below the line of fire.

  Logan crouched lower as incoming rounds came his way. He and Bairamov could see the insurgents by the glow from their IR illuminators, but the insurgents would barely be able to see the Legionnaires.

  But they rapidly wised up, and dropped to the floor. Their lights went off, leaving everyone firing into blackness.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Bairamov said, and began to back along the tunnel, slapping a hand against the wall as he moved, to maintain his sense of direction in the darkness.

  Logan pulled the last HE grenade from his belt, and tossed it back along the tunnel.

  He followed Bairamov, crouching as low as he could, and firing bursts from his hip into the darkness as he moved.

  Then the grenade exploded.

  The insurgents yelled, and Logan and Bairamov backed away faster. The tunnel turned a corner behind them, then a faint glow illuminated their path. Desoto crouched a few metres ahead with the girl slumped on the floor beside him. The glow in front of them showed where the tunnel opened out through the cavern wall beyond.

  “Sir,” Desoto said, “You need to see this.”

  Bairamov crouched in the tunnel mouth, and took a step out into the glow. Logan peered around the corner beside him.