Dragon Two-Zero (Fury's Fire Book 1)

by William McCaskey

  Wolf's team took fifteen minutes to make their way from the tree line and sweep the village. Reaper's earbud crackled to life, and Wolf's voice came across the net. "They burned everything." Her voice was steady, but he could hear the clench of her jaw in the way she bit off her words. Whatever she had seen had gotten to her.

  Reaver pressed the ring finger of his left hand tight against the handgrips around the barrel of his rifle, activating the mic sensors sewn into the fabric of the collar of his uniform. “What are you talking about, Wolf?" A relaxing of the pressure and the mic cut off, clearing the net for Wolf to respond.

  Wolf's voice came back sharper. "There were chains in the debris of some of the doors. The fucks locked people in their homes and torched them, then they poured salt across the fields."

  Reaver swore under his breath. He knew the Renks were savage, but this was something new. “Bodies or clues to where the Renks went?"

  Wolf answered after a long pause, her voice cold and clipped as if she were forcing her emotions into a box. "Drag marks. They may have taken captives, but it couldn't have been many based on the number of houses and how many bone piles are in the burned-out ones. Looks like wheeled vehicles, no spread pattern from hovercraft; the ground is too churned up to get a good count. Village this size, if they came in the night, could have been as small as a squad, probably no bigger than a platoon; and at least a week ago. Doesn't look like anyone's been here between them and us."

  Reaver chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, thinking. Why take farmers captive, especially farmers from a frontier village? Slave trade or troop entertainment. There had been rumors the Renks were capable of it, but never any hard proof, not with the galaxy as spread out as it was. They needed to find answers, and this village was aggravatingly making more questions.

  Reaver triggered his mic. "Bravo team, rally with Alpha outside the village. We're gonna haul ass for the city and see if we can't find some answers. Alice, pull in the mines and get them to Bull; you're on point. Harlequin, Bull, security till we are ready to step off." Reaver cut his mic's transmission and prepped a burst message for Fury’s Fire, while he waited on Bravo team to move up and for Alice to retrieve the scimitars, pass them to Bull to be repacked, and to join him at the rally point.

  Within two minutes Wolf had emerged from the village with Space Case, Bard, and Titan in tow. Reaver raised himself from his position and waved them toward him; the burst had already been sent so the entire squad was ready to move out. Reaver nodded to Alice, who started forward and tapped Bull's shoulder as she passed. He stood and fell in behind Alice. Harlequin seemed to step from thin air as Bull passed him, dropping into his position within the marching order. With Dragon-Two moving, Alice cut off the road and back into the trees. The road would have provided easier and more rapid movement, but after what they discovered at the farming community no one was taking any chances. The mission had gone from one of strikes against targets of opportunity to one of discovery, and no warrior relished the idea of walking into an unknown situation against an unknown enemy of unknown strengths. Truth be told, unknowns pissed them off.

  Alice led the squad through the forest, her dark green eyes making long sweeps along with the slow movements of her head affording her the broadest possible field of vision as she picked her way through the varied underbrush of the planet's forest floor. Alice had meshed almost seamlessly into Alpha's team make-up after Scar's death. Her quiet competence and skill with the long gun set Harlequin's competitive streak on edge, and the two had quickly developed a rivalry. Bull's size, and a bluster to match, never unsettled her as it did others. Instead, she had taken to deftly redirecting the posturing and banter in Harlequin's direction and then watched with a smile as the two Marines needled one another.

  Her interaction with Reaver had been standoffish, but just about everyone was that way with their staff sergeant. The only two who appeared to be able to break through the walls he threw up were Bull and the Lieutenant. Alice figured it had to do with Reaver's last assignment, one where Bull had been with him; they never talked about what had happened before they came to Fury’s Fire. No one asked how he and the Lieutenant had known one another; Lieutenant Davis was trusted and if the Lieutenant trusted Reaver then the squad he'd been given would as well.

  Bull's voice came over the comms-net letting her know they had hit the seven-klick mark since departing the village, cutting through her thoughts, and she began scanning for a secure spot for her squadmates to bed down for a few hours.

  Alice smiled when she'd spotted the game trails leading under and into the thick wall of brambles climbing between the trees to her left; she had signaled the halt and then shucked her ruck from her shoulders. Handing her long rifle to Bull, Alice unhooked the retention strap on the left thigh sidearm holster, a rail-shot with its compact rail technology. It could fire solid slugs or specialty rounds. Silent and highly lethal, it was a preferred backup weapon for many Recon Marines. Lowering herself down, Alice examined the trail and the opening worn into the wall of thorns.

  Titan's voice sounded quietly in her ear; the tail of the column had caught up to what Alice had found. "You crazy, little girl. Bull ain't gonna fit through that, and no way in hell I'm gonna get through this shit." Titan swept his left arm in the direction of the brambles.

  Alice smiled back at him, then turned her gaze to Reaver, as she opened one of the utility pouches on her vest. Pulling three silver cylinders from the pouch, Alice rolled them between her fingers. The cylinders were four inches long and two inches in diameter, with five symmetrical circles set evenly into the skin of each cylinder while the ends appeared perfectly smooth. Alice brushed a stray lock of strawberry blonde hair out of her face and tucked it beneath her helmet, slipping the errant hair behind her ear with her right hand, and raised her eyebrow toward her squad leader, the question in her eyes plain.

  Reaver nodded to Alice. With that affirmation, she slid the cylinders back into their pouch and lowered herself to the forest floor, bracing herself with her right arm as she smoothly drew her sidearm with her left hand. As Alice dropped to her stomach and began working her way through the brambles, the remaining members of the squad closed in a tight three-sixty,weapons at the low-ready, and Alice's pack tucked under Bull's front leg.

  The sounds of the forest returned. When the only thing you could hear was wind whistling through the trees, you knew something not native to the area had spooked the wildlife.

  Titan spoke up, keeping his voice at just the right level for the mics to pick-up. "Boss, for the record, I hate those things."

  Harlequin's soft chuckle answered. "What's the matter, big man? Worried what little you've got won't shift with you?"

  "Fuck you, Quinn. You should be the one worried about losing something in the shift; you're already smaller than Wolf." Titan's reply snapped back at Harlequin.

  Before Harlequin could respond, the frozen edge of Wolf’s voice sliced through their banter. "I'll beat you both with it and shame your daddies for making such dickless wonders. Stow the fucking chatter."

  Nearly seven minutes passed before Reaver's earbud came to life again, and Alice's voice came across the command channel. She had found an area inside the brambles capable of accommodating the entire squad, and the shift-beacons had been planted and activated. Reaver double-clicked an affirmative response back to Alice, then cut the comm signal.

  Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Reaver keyed his mic. "Shift-beacons chiming, command shift in ten." Letting his rifle hang across his body from its sling, Reaver used his right hand to flip up the cover of the command cuff on his left forearm. The command cuff gave leaders access to information and tracking options on the members of their units; Recon was one of the few groups to issue the device as far down as the squad leader. Two quick finger movements across the screen and Reaver had selected and activated the shift circuitry woven into the fabric of the Marine combat uniforms. Reaver could feel the static build-up around his bo
dy, and his vision went white; the last thing he heard was the in-rush of wind as air was sucked in to fill a void. Each member of the squad shifted at the same moment, leaving behind nothing but thin edge lines of an equilateral triangle scorched into the grass surrounding the area where they had been kneeling. The wind brought leaves and debris, breaking up the lines and preventing all but the best trackers from knowing anyone had been there.

  Lines of electricity, matching the burn patterns left outside the wall of brambles, snapped into existence, connecting the three silver cylinders Alice had shown to Reaver and the rest of her squadmates. Three distinct pops echoed in rapid succession, air being forced aside as the seven Marines appeared in the area outlined by the beacons and charged air linking them, kneeling in the same configuration they had been in before the shift. As the static lightning drew back into the beacons, each Marine took a moment to survey their surroundings.

  If the clearing Alice had found had been perfectly square, it would have measured close to five by five meters at its widest. The brambles surrounded the entire clearing, and the depth and height of the bushes from hell would prevent any but the most persistent of trackers or hunters from finding the Recon squad within. The overhead canopy still maintained its weight, protecting those on the ground from aerial observation. Reaver rose from his kneeling position, and the remaining Marines followed suit.

  Bull hefted Alice's pack with one hand and gave it a slight swing before releasing it in an easy arc toward her. Alice caught the flying pack with two hands, a soft grunt emanating from her throat as the weight thumped against her chest before she smoothly swung the pack over her shoulders. The look she shot Bull as she stalked toward him to retrieve her rifle was scalding, and he unslung the weapon from his shoulder and handed it to her gently. Alice's glare softened when her rifle was back in her hands.

  Meanwhile, the rest of the squad begun setting up a quick camp. Reaver ordered a watch rotation to cover the squad for the next four hours; two on shift for an hour would give everyone a chance to dry out their feet and get some sleep. Reaver and Bull would take the first shift, Wolf and Bard would close out the night, Titan and Space Case had the second to last watch, often considered the worst since it would be so close to reveille that getting any decent sleep after the shift was next to impossible.

  Reaver saw Bard and Space Case give each other a look, smirking and shrugging; he had learned not to put them on the same watch ever. The best friends kept a good watch, but the results of them being able to scheme while everyone else slept varied from truly amazing to frightfully funny. Best to keep that effect shipboard.

  Alice and Harlequin laid out their bedrolls and were breaking down their respective rifles to clean. Rail-weapon technology was relatively cheap, relatively, when applied large scale for Naval ships or planetary defense systems; the smaller you scaled the system down, the more expensive it became, so personal weapons only went to specialty units and oft-times only to those within those units who had a specific need for it. That Recon carried such pistols was proof of the trust and expectations the corporations put into the Marines. The rifles used by Alice and Harlequin were both rail-shot platforms, and while similar in configuration, each sniper had final say in the end product they would carry into a warzone. Alice's rifle was a full twenty centimeters shorter than Harlequin's, to accommodate for the height difference between the two; this afforded her greater control over the rifle, and the range disparity between the two was negligible. Where Harlequin used an auto-load mechanism that afforded him a more rapid delivery of rounds down range, the bolt-action style on Alice’s enabled her to switch the type of ammunition on the fly. Each scope carried an integrated range-finder and computer for elevation and wind adjustments, though all snipers still learned to make the calculations by hand on the off chance the computer failed. Also, now installed and underslung along the length of the barrels of both rifles were the devices tested by Harlequin against the weapons factory just weeks prior.

  Having been the first to use the weapon in a combat situation, Harlequin had been offered the opportunity to name the device. He had settled on calling them Starstrikes, though he had wanted to use the old Earth Germanic ‘sterne-streik’ for his family’s history. Reaver had stomped that one down quick, even though it had been at least six generations ago that the Renks had funded and instigated the rise of the Fourth Reich in Germany, resulting in a firestorm war that swept away much of Germany as it had been known and driven the last of the socialists into the stars. The German language had become not illegal, but certainly taboo. The Starstrikes weighed in at a kilogram apiece and had required both snipers to shift the bipod points to ensure the most stable firing position possible.

  The two snipers were in a communion of their own, neither one speaking, both focused on their weapons, but the deft movements of their hands nearly mirrored one another. Every Marine was a marksman. Snipers were a breed above their fellows, expert trackers and scouts; but above all that the sniper was a weaponsmith trained in the arms-factories of different corporations. It was not uncommon for one to be pulled from the field to refresh their training, learning the newest schematics and newest techniques to keep their fellow Marines’ weapons battlefield ready. The weapons came apart slowly, each piece examined and cleaned before being laid down on the bedroll. The takedown was methodical and precise; though, if necessary, the entire rifle could be reassembled and combat ready in seconds. Alice and Harlequin would be at their maintenance until their time to stand watch came, after which they would catch their own combat naps.

  While the snipers' executed their weapons maintenance to exacting standards, the rest of the squad simply had to ensure that their weapons were clean enough to prevent a malfunction. In many cases, this meant a rinse in a stream or, if running water was not available, then a few mouthfuls of water spat down the barrel and through the innards of the weapon would maintain combat preparedness until a full breakdown could be completed. After double-checking their weapons, a few of the Marines took the chance to grab a few mouthfuls of food from the rations packs carried in their rucksacks; the rations carried in their combat vests were reserved for emergencies when the Marines would be required to drop their rucks and move as light as possible. Meals were quickly consumed, no time to waste when there was sleep to be had. Each Marine found their own spot within the clearing to get comfortable, though there was never more than a few feet between the members of the squad.

  With Bull set up to cover the far side of the clearing, Reaver moved to keep an eye on the game runs Alice had used to gain access to the clearing, doubting that anyone would think to investigate them. Alice's ability to conceal her passage over almost any landscape bordered on the supernatural and served her and her squad well in the clandestine missions Recon was often called upon to execute. A light tread behind him alerted Reaver to the arrival of one of his Marines, a glimpse of the raven black hair and dark skin tone out of the corner of his left eye identified Wolf as she settled into a prone position beside him and fifteen to twenty centimeters off his left shoulder.

  The two Marines laid there in silence. Reaver knew that Wolf would not have come over unless she had something to say, so he let her get to it in her own time; wasn't like he was going anywhere.

  Wolf's voice cut through the silence between the two Marines, low enough so as not to carry through the wall of brambles or back to the rest of the squad. "Any idea on what the hell is going on?" The stress she had buried since finding the burnt corpses of the villagers was finally allowed to manifest in the tone of her words.

  Reaver's head turned enough to include a glance toward her as his eyes swept the thorns, his mouth moving slightly as he chewed the bottom left corner of his lip. It wasn't until he had completed two more sweeps of the foliage that he responded. "Fuck if I know. Whole planet feels wrong. No flights, no smoke, like the whole damn thing is dead. The distress said Renks, figured they'd have wanted the place for the food. Intel says more and more of the
PSPU planets are suffering shortages, not that the Renks would admit it."

  Wolf cut in. "If that was it, then where are they? Even with the time it took us to rally with Carolina and make the sail here, they couldn't have bled the planet dry of enough to feed a single rock."

  Reaver nodded. "I know, which is what has me worried. LT said nothing showed on the scans of the system. This whole thing stinks like a three-day-dead pig's asshole."

  "How the hell would you know what three-day-dead pig's ass smells like?" Wolf queried, stifling a laugh.

  Reaver didn't crack a grin, just shrugged his shoulders. "Settler ship got bushwhacked; cruiser I was on found it. Whoever hit it did it for the fun of it. Killed everyone on board, including the livestock. Took what they could carry and left her floating."

  Wolf's smile had disappeared. “Ever find the raiders?"

  Reaver shook his head. "Nah, we were about to start hunting when we got called to Drassick V. Rioters were burning factories, and the Corporations figured the Renks were stirring up trouble. They were right, and we dealt with the Party leaders."

  Wolf turned her head and laid her gaze fully on her squad leader; her voice was quieter when she next spoke. “Drassick V was less than a year ago, right before you and Bull came to Fury’s Fire. Heard that's where the Lieutenant got his tear-drop." There was no question to the final words; even with the vast distances separating Task Forces and Battle Groups rumors spread quickly through the fleet.

  Reaver ignored her gaze, the corners of his eyes tightening the only indication to Wolf that something had happened, and her words had hit close to home. “What else have you heard about Drassick?" His tone was emotionless and flat, like someone talking about an inanimate object that held no interest for them.