by Daniel Gibbs
“Enemy armor still operational,” Ahmad reported. “I’m going to try an armor-piercing round.”
Noting that Susanna sat with her hands together and head bowed, Ruth climbed forward and stuck her head into the control area. “Master Chief, how’re we doing?”
“Just fine,” MacDonald replied icily.
“AP round in!” Ahmad called out. Ruth felt the now familiar shudder as they fired again. “Direct hit!”
“Rostami, speed it up,” MacDonald ordered. “We’re still moving like a ninety-year-old woman!”
“Why’s it always got to be a woman?” Ruth deadpanned. “You ever saw a ninety-year-old guy? They move slow too, Master Chief.”
“Oh, shut up,” MacDonald replied as they were all flung to one side by another impact.
“Enemy tank still with us, Master Chief!” Ahmad called down. “It’s slowing, though. We hurt it. I’m loading an AP round.”
MacDonald reached over and toggled the cameras to the back view, showing the enemy armored vehicle trying to keep up. Smoke trailed out from behind it. “Looks like we’ve almost got them,” Ruth stated.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Obvious,” MacDonald snarked back. “Take the shot, Ahmad!”
There was a flash on the monitor, and the trailing tank took a direct hit, an explosion engulfing its front. The range between them opened dramatically, and there was no further fire from the enemy. Ruth heard the turret rotating back around and breathed a sigh of relief.
“What, you think we’re out of the woods or something?” MacDonald asked with a sneer.
“For now, yeah. They’d have thrown all their armor at us, not just one.”
“Logical thinking, I’ll give you that. Combat isn’t typically logical, though, LT. Rostami, what’s our ETA?”
“One mike, Master Chief!”
An imposing building loomed directly in front of them, visible through the external camera. Three stories tall, it had several antennas on top of it, and what appeared to be an array of satellite dishes in a small field directly adjacent.
“Ahmad, take out the dish farm over there. High-explosive rounds.”
“On it,” Ahmad called down from the turret.
Ruth watched as they fired, again and again, blasting the flimsy devices and setting the field on fire. After five shots, MacDonald spoke. “Cease fire! Rostami, can you confirm we got the uplink?”
“I’ll need to take some readings outside to be sure,” Rostami replied.
“No time like the present. Ahmad, you stay in the turret. Everyone except Eight, exit the vehicle and take security,” MacDonald ordered. He turned back toward Ruth. “That includes you, LT.”
“Of course, Master Chief,” Ruth said with a mocking formality. She’d lost all patience with the crusty commando, her annoyance rising to the surface in the pressure cooker of combat that surrounded them. Swinging back from the commander’s area, she turned to find Harrell opening the hatch that led to the exterior.
“Let Meissner and me get out first, LT,” Harrell said, looking toward her. “Then you head up.”
“I thought it was ladies first?”
“Touché, LT,” Harrell answered as he climbed out the hatch. Meissner was close behind him, and Ruth headed up as soon as she saw him disappear from view. Sticking her head out of the tank, she looked around to see smoke billowing everywhere, with orange flames spreading across the field and lapping against the hard plasticrete exterior of the League building.
Rostami and MacDonald had climbed out of another access point on the vehicle and were milling about; everyone had their battle rifles at the ready, though no Leaguers were in evidence.
“Not bad for a team of eight… including two non-commandos,” Ruth said as she plopped her feet down on the hard paved surface. “I wonder where the rest of them went?”
“Who cares?” MacDonald asked rhetorically. “When the balance of the enemy garrison makes its appearance, we’ll kill them too.”
“I thought I was cold…”
MacDonald walked up next to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “For a cake eater, you’re one of the better ones, LT. But… no one’s as cold as a spacewalker. Now we need to plan for what’s next.”
“Master Chief, pretty sure this building is their HQ too. Might be HVTs inside,” Rostami called out as he glanced up from his tablet.
Susanna appeared at Ruth’s side. “What’s an HVT?”
“High-value target… someone worth capturing,” she started to explain before pandemonium erupted when, out of nowhere, a tank shell went wide of their location and exploded against another building. Flames shot out from the impact point, and the concussive wave knocked Ruth off her feet. She raised her head to see League tanks rounding a distant corner, advancing on them.
“Cover… Cover… Move it!” MacDonald shouted, picking Ruth up with one hand and hauling her backward.
“Get behind cover, Susanna,” Ruth cried out as she reloaded her battle rifle and chanced a glance out into the street.
The enemy tanks fired more shells toward them, them, but all went wide. The team retreated to the building entrance as Rostami worked to unlock the door.
“I guess that’s the rest of their armor corps,” Harrell commented. “We got any portable anti-tank weapons?”
“There’s a wire-guided AP rocket in the ammo bag,” Ahmad said. “I’ll grab it.”
Ruth glanced up to see the tanks fire once more, again missing them. “They can’t seem to shoot for anything.”
“That’s because our tank has its active denial system running. It’s probably throwing off their targeting computer,” MacDonald said. “Rostami, hurry it up!”
The seconds crawled by for Ruth, as she was unable to affect the situation. The only thing she could do was watch and wait. Ahmad passed in front of her, cradling the launch tube for their lone anti-tank weapon. He stepped down and knelt at the front of the building and aimed. It seemed as if the rocket launched simultaneously as the enemy fired; the shells reduced their tank to a burning wreck. At the far end of the street, the warhead smacked into the turret of the vehicle to the left, sending up a plume of flame, followed by the it blowing off and flying backward.
“Woooooohoooooooooo!” Harrell shouted, slapping Ahmad on the back. “Nice shooting, brother.”
“I got the door,” Rostami interjected.
Ruth turned around to see him holding it open; the team rushed through without needing a command. She waited for Susanna to get ahead of her, then took off at a run. Seconds after they entered the lobby, which contained a station for a guard and a scanning system for visitors, another tank shell slammed into where they’d just been. Debris rained down from the ceiling, and she felt like an armored fist punched her gut, the concussive effect was so strong.
“We need more anti-tank weapons,” Ruth blurted out, momentarily stunned.
“Flat out of those, LT. Got any other bright ideas?”
Ruth rolled her eyes at MacDonald’s comment, trying to force herself to think. This doesn’t look good.
“Yes!” Rostami yelled. “I’ve got one of those drones the Lion sent in range.”
“What are you waiting for? Blast those damn Leaguers!” MacDonald shouted as he pulled himself to his feet.
“Gladly, Master Chief!”
Another shell smacked the building, causing the few transparent alloy windows that weren’t already blown out to crack and shatter, sending shards flying all over the lobby. Ruth stared, mesmerized as the tank advanced down the street, and just as suddenly, it was engulfed by a series of explosions. There was no sound before the strike, just an eerie quiet. It took thirty seconds for the smoke and dust to clear, after which it was apparent the enemy armor was disabled.
“Thank God for those contractors,” Harrell said with a sigh.
“Never thought I’d hear you say something along those lines,” MacDonald grunted. “Okay, ammo and weapons check.”
Ruth discharged the magazine i
n her battle rifle, and with her hands shaking, checked the bullets inside. I should be dead. We should all be gone. Maybe God wants us to finish the job first.
“Rostami, get our commlink up,” MacDonald said as he finished reloading his weapon.
The sound of gunfire brought Ruth out of her thoughts. Bullets smacked into the walls, sending out clouds of dust from the impacts, as well as sparks when they hit metal. She took refuge behind a desk and fired blindly on the enemy.
Rostami thudded down beside her, his hands clutching the small tactical comm unit. “Feel like making a call?”
29
“Conn, communications. Convoy Alpha-Six-Eight reports no issues reaching the station,” Taylor said, interrupting David’s thoughts as he had been studying a loss report from Dyson’s squadron on the bridge of the Lion of Judah.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” David replied.
“That’s the second convoy in six hours to make it through with no losses or engagements,” Aibek observed from his seat, next to David.
“We still need to be cautious, XO. I never trust the Leaguers not to have another trick up their sleeve. This business of traitors in our midst reinforces that notion.”
“A den of vipers that must be dealt with accordingly.”
“Amen,” David said, smirking a bit at the big Saurian’s use of human expressions. “One more successful convoy and I’m going to ask General MacIntosh to clear us to head back to Freiderwelt.”
“Oh?”
“I’m tired of waiting for updates.” And Ruth needs our help. I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit I was worried about her.
“Conn, communications,” Taylor interjected. “I’ve got Lieutenant Goldberg, sir, from Freiderwelt. Audio only.”
“Obviously, her ears were smarting?” Aibek said, apparently testing out another slang phrase.
“You need to have whoever’s teaching you these to do a better job, XO,” David said with a grin. “Communications, put her on.”
“Can anyone hear me?” Ruth’s voice said, filtering in through the speakers around the CO’s and XO’s chairs.
“I read you loud and clear, Lieutenant,” David said.
“Thank God, sir. It’s so good to hear your voice.”
“Likewise, Lieutenant. Sitrep?”
“We’ve disrupted the League’s ability to control the planetary defense grid, sir. The team and I are currently inside of the HQ for the main military installation on Freiderwelt. We need help, sir.”
David glanced at Aibek. Technically, my orders are to stay here and protect the convoys. He bit down on his lip, thinking through the variables. Screw orders. “Sit tight, we’re on the way.” Aibek jerked his head around toward David, words forming on his lips. David just held up his hand to ward off the interruption.
“Any idea on ETA, sir?”
“We’ll start emergency spin up now. Call it fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll inform the team,” Ruth said, sounds of combat and automatic rifle fire evident behind her.
“Be careful, Lieutenant.”
“Aye aye, sir!”
“Godspeed. Lion of Judah, out.”
“As your first officer, I must register my reservations about departing our station, sir,” Aibek said a moment later.
“Noted, XO,” David said. Upon seeing the look on Aibek’s face, he realized the topic wouldn’t be dropped. “Our job here is done. It’s bending our orders, but we were instructed to secure the convoys. We did that. Now there’s another problem to deal with—Freiderwelt—and I intend to move on.” And it diverts my brain from having to think about the elephant in the room… the traitors down in our brig.
“Yes, sir.”
“Navigation, plot a Lawrence drive vector for Freiderwelt.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Hammond answered.
“Communications, get me Colonel Demood.”
“One moment, sir,” Taylor replied.
“This is Demood,” Calvin’s voice rang out.
“Colonel, Alpha team got the planetary defenses down. We’re jumping in fifteen minutes.”
“Hot drop?”
“That’s what I’m thinking, as soon as we make orbit.”
“Flyboys going to provide cover?”
“That’s my next call,” David said with a grin. “I doubt Amir can get his bombers outfitted for a ground attack this quickly, but maybe we can get a few ready. Remember, the League garrison is less than five thousand troops.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Colonel. We’re going to wipe the floor of those Leaguers.”
“Never doubted it.”
“I’ll start getting everyone locked and loaded, sir.”
“Carry on, Demood.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The line cut off with an audible click. “Communications, Colonel Amir, if you please.”
A second later, Amir’s voice was heard. “Yes, sir?”
“Colonel, I need you to outfit your squadrons for ground attack to support a Marine landing on Freiderwelt,” David said.
“ETA to attack, sir?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“We’ll do our best,” Amir said, though David had known him long enough to hear the hesitation in his voice.
“Thank you, Colonel. Cohen out.”
That job accomplished, David turned his focus back toward the more rote task of getting the ship on station and ready to fight. He punched up the 1MC ship-wide intercom. “General quarters. General quarters! Attention, all hands, this is Colonel Cohen. Man your battle stations, set condition one throughout the ship! This is not a drill. I say again, this is not a drill.”
As they had countless times before, the lights on the bridge turned a deep blue hue, dimming to allow the various stations and screens to be better seen in combat. “Condition one is set throughout the ship, sir,” Kelsey reported from the tactical station.
“Acknowledged, TAO,” David replied.
“Lawrence drive course plotted and inputted into the navigation computer, sir,” Hammond said.
“Navigation, start the clock. We jump in five minutes,” David ordered.
God, help us get there fast enough. If it is Your will, please protect my crew and defend the lives of the team on Freiderwelt and its civilians.
“These guys don’t know when to give up,” Harrell shouted as he fired a sustained burst into the entrance of the HQ building.
“Tell me about it, Two,” MacDonald replied.
Ruth didn’t stir from her post, staring down the sights of her battle rifle and picking off another Leaguer that tried to rush the door. “Suggest we split up to infiltrate the building, Master Chief.”
“What do you think you are now, LT, the freaking tour guide?”
“No, I’m the tour director,” Ruth snarked back as she sent more rounds downrange. “Rank has its privileges!"
“Not sure staying here is our best play,” Harrell said. “It’s a solid defensive position, sure. At some point, these guys have to wise up and pull out more big guns.”
“Got anything in mind?” MacDonald asked.
“Well, according to our comms geek here, this is the HQ. Maybe we go find the Garrison CO and force him to surrender at gunpoint.”
“I’m in,” Ahmad began. “Having the initiative is almost always better than not.”
“We could leave Mata, Rostami, and the civilian here. Split into two teams, see what’s what,” MacDonald said.
“I’ve got dibs on Meissner,” Ruth said between bursts.
“Oh yeah, why’s that?” MacDonald questioned.
“Simple. He’s not a jerk.”
Harrell snickered as he reloaded his squad automatic weapon. “She got you there, boss.”
“Fine. Meissner, you’re with the LT. Harrell, Ahmad, with me.”
“We’re going to leave the LT with only one escort?” Harrell questioned.
In spite of the satirical way in which he said it, Ruth thought she heard genuine con
cern in there too.
“LT is capable of taking care of herself,” MacDonald replied.
“Hey, can I get a recording of that?” Ruth interjected, causing laughter to ripple across the group, including Susanna.
“Enough jaw-jacking. We’re on the clock until the Terran Coalition’s misguided children get here, taking their sweet time as usual,” MacDonald said. “Let’s roll.”
Ruth sent a final burst toward the enemy before she stood and joined Meissner, while MacDonald and the others formed up. They moved through an open door, further into the building. She followed and reached a bank of elevators in short order. “Let’s cause some confusion here,” MacDonald began. “LT, you two hit the third floor. We’ll take the second. They won’t expect us to split up.”
“Understood, Master Chief,” Ruth answered, pressing the button on the wall for “up.”
MacDonald, Ahmad, and Harrell took the first car, while Ruth and Meissner waited for the second. The doors to the lift closed, and it began to rise. The obnoxious sound of grainy music played in the background.
“What’s that noise?” Ruth complained.
“Gravlift music?”
“No wonder these guys are perpetually pissed off. I’d be too if I had to listen to that,” Ruth deadpanned.
The doors slid open, revealing another bare corridor filled with propaganda posters on the walls and the dull gray paint that seemed prevalent in every Leaguer building Ruth had been inside. Battle rifles up and at the ready, they entered the hallway, covering both sides and checking their angles to avoid an ambush. No enemy soldiers were in evidence, and she walked to a sign that had office names and numbers on it, along with a diagram of where they were.
“Looks like the CO is some colonel named Pan, while the XO is a major named Pavlik. Both of them have offices on this floor,” Ruth said.
“You think those guys are stupid enough to stay in their offices while a commando team is loose in their HQ?”
“We’re talking about Leaguers here.”
“Valid point,” Meissner replied. “Still, I can’t believe the HVTs would hold up there.”