First Strike (The Kurgan War Book 1)

by Richard Turner

  Sheridan shook Cole’s hand. From his pack, he pulled out a set of Chosen winter white coveralls. He had sewn up the bullet holes and cleaned off the blood from the outfit as best he could. The smell coming off the coveralls, however, was repellent. Sheridan doubted that they had ever been cleaned. He quickly checked the outfit for small grub-like lice that infested many of the sets of clothing they had been given to wear. Garcia had told him that the lice were attracted to body heat and were harmless. Still, the thought of the bugs next to his skin made him shudder. Once he was happy that there were no lice on his coveralls, he quickly pulled them over the top of his civilian clothes. Next, he reassembled his Chosen rifle and slung it over his shoulder.

  Carefully, he moved to the edge of the forest and waited until he was sure no one was looking in his direction. Sheridan decided there was no time like the present and sauntered out of the woods as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He was thankful for the snow coming down as it allowed him walk with his head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone he might pass. His pulse raced as he walked nearer to the Chosen encampment. He strained to listen to what was being said, hoping to discover the nearby installation’s true identity. As he got closer, he noticed that many of the Chosen soldiers looked like they had been injured. Some had bandages over one eye, while many more had their hands swathed in bandages. It became clear that these men had replaced the ones that had originally been here. Like the Marines dug in at the capital, the Chosen were becoming desperate for fresh soldiers and had resorted to using rear echelon troops on the front lines.

  “You there, where do you think you’re going?” bellowed a voice.

  Sheridan stopped and looked over at a tall, broad-shouldered Chosen sergeant who was eyeing him suspiciously. “I was told to report for guard duty,” answered Sheridan.

  “I don’t know you. What’s your name?”

  “Kimdar,” stammered Sheridan.

  “I wasn’t told you would be coming here. You look fit enough, though. Why aren’t you with your unit?”

  Sheridan’s heart pounded away like a jackhammer in his chest. He had to come up with a convincing lie and fast. The first thing that flashed through his mind was frostbite, but he didn’t know the Kurgan word for it. The sergeant stared at Sheridan. In desperation, he blurted out, “I froze some of my toes, Sergeant.”

  The big soldier shook his head. “Another one! Why the Lord didn’t give you people the brains to look after your feet is beyond me. Come with me, Kimdar.”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” replied Sheridan, hoping that this would be the end of the sergeant’s questions. He followed the soldier inside a large, heated tent. The smell of something being cooked on a gas stove filled the tent. Sheridan’s stomach grumbled.

  “Hungry, eh? We’ll get something to eat and then report to that man over there,” said the sergeant, pointing to a corporal sitting behind a desk on the far side of the shelter. “Where are you from, Kimdar? I can’t place your accent.”

  Sheridan broke out in a cold sweat. Desperately he tried to recall the name of the Chosen planet he was told was just on the enemy side of the Disputed Zone. “Kollos,” replied Sheridan, eyeing the nearest exit.

  “Never been there,” said the sergeant with a shrug of his shoulders. “Not that it matters. Get yourself some soup and then report in.”

  Sheridan let out his breath, nodded his head and did as he was told. With a hot bowl of odd-smelling soup in his hands, he walked over and gave his name to the corporal sitting at his desk. He was told to take a seat and wait until he was called for. Sheridan looked around the tent, spotted a tired-looking Chosen soldier resting on a bench and decided to sit with him. Perhaps he knew what they were guarding.

  “Afternoon,” said Sheridan to the man as he took a seat.

  “Hello,” replied the man. He had blonde hair and a scraggly beard. His dark-blue eyes looked tired and war-weary.

  “My name is Kimdar,” Sheridan said.

  “Kesmon,” replied the soldier.

  Sheridan tried the soup. It was a little bland but tasted good enough. “Kesmon, have you been here long?” Sheridan asked the man.

  “I got here last week after I burnt my hands trying to put out a fire,” the blonde-haired soldier replied, showing Sheridan his bandaged hands.

  “That looks painful.”

  “It is a small price to serve the Lord,” the man answered.

  “Yes, indeed. I got careless and froze my feet.”

  “We have a lot of cold casualties coming through here. Some stay, some are sent back to one of the hospital ships in orbit while others volunteer to go back to the front. It all depends on the extent of their injuries.”

  “They won’t keep me here for too long. I expect to rejoin my unit in a day or two,” Sheridan said, trying to sound keen to get back into the fight.

  “I tried to volunteer, but I was told that my wounds haven’t healed enough for me to leave yet. So I waste my time along with everyone else guarding this place.”

  “We all serve the Lord, in whatever we do.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  Sheridan decided to push his luck. “By the way, what is this place we are guarding? I wasn’t told what I was going to be doing, other than guard duty, when I was dropped off here.”

  The blonde-haired soldier looked around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. Quietly, he said, “We don’t talk about it. The officers lose their minds when you do.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “They don’t say why, but we figure it has to do with the top-secret gear they have here to jam the humans’ communications. I heard that it also stops all of their electronics from working as well. Trust me, my friend, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never ask another question about this place ever again. They whipped a soldier in front of us yesterday, for falling asleep on duty. They found him in a restricted part of the camp. He was only trying to keep warm, but they decided to make an example of him and whipped him anyway. So just keep your mouth shut and do as you’re told. Lord willing you’ll be back with your unit in a couple of days’ time.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” said Sheridan. He quickly finished off his meal, placed the bowl down and then as stealthily as he could, he snuck out of the tent. He glanced around and saw that the sergeant was nowhere to be seen. Sheridan, however, could hear the NCO berating some men behind a long vehicle with five antennas sticking out of the top of it. He took it as his cue to leave and began to walk towards the woods and safety. Suddenly, he heard his bogus Chosen name being yelled out. His swore under his breath and slowly turned around. It was Kesmon.

  “Kimdar, where are you going? They might call your name. The corporal is not very forgiving. You wouldn’t want to get into trouble with him on your first day here. I wasn’t joking when I said they whip people here,” said Kesmon as he walked towards Sheridan.

  “I’ll be there in a minute. When I got off my ride, I dropped my pack by the woods. Do me a favor and tell the corporal that I’m just going to grab my gear and will return right away. I shouldn’t be more than a couple of minutes.”

  “Let me give you a hand.”

  Sheridan tried to get the man to leave. “I’ll be alright. Besides with the injuries to your hands, you really shouldn’t try lifting anything heavy.”

  Kesmon persisted. “It’s ok, besides I could use the fresh air.”

  Sheridan shrugged his shoulders and began to walk towards the trees. When they were a few meters away, Sheridan turned to face Kesmon. “Say, I really appreciate your offer of help; however, I can take it from here.”

  Kesmon hesitated for a second. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say that you’re trying to get rid of me.” He chuckled to himself. “Hurry up; I’ll wait here for you.”

  Sheridan took a deep breath, knowing that things had already gone too far. He looked at the soldier and said, “I’ve got a couple of really light things, I guess you could carry them for me.”


  Kesmon smiled and followed Sheridan into the forest. After walking for nearly a minute, Kesmon stopped in his tracks. “Kimdar, where did you say you left your gear?”

  Sheridan’s stomach tied in a knot the second he decided to end the charade. He reached into a jacket pocket, pulled out one of his razor sharp ceramic knives and turned about. Kesmon saw the hard look in Sheridan’s eyes a second too late to save his life. Like a tiger, Sheridan pounced on the hapless soldier and plunged his knife into the man’s chest. With a look of utter disbelief in his eyes, Kesmon’s feet buckled. Sheridan grabbed the Chosen warrior by the collar of his uniform and forced the dying soldier down onto the snow-covered ground. He looked over his shoulder to make sure they hadn’t been followed before placing a hand over his victim’s mouth so he couldn’t make a sound as he lay dying in the snow.

  After a few seconds, the Chosen warrior’s eyes glazed over. Sheridan reached down with a blood-covered hand and checked for a pulse. There was none. He had expected to feel guilty about killing the man in cold blood; however, after all he had seen and been though he was numb. Grabbing the body, Sheridan dragged the remains deeper into the woods. He was thankful that the snow falling from the sky would soon erase his tracks. When he was done covering the corpse with snow, Sheridan dug out his compass, took a bearing and began to walk through the thick woods.

  He had a rendezvous to keep.

  Chapter 41

  The word that one of the four-man teams was overdue didn’t come as a total surprise to Sheridan. He had planned for the possibility of losing at least one team. There was still enough enhanced explosive charges carried in the packs of the young Marines he had with him to flatten an entire city block. With the twelve Marines plus himself and Cole, Sheridan was confident they could knock out the jamming site as planned. He grabbed a hot drink and sat down with Cole away from the other Marines. Sheridan quickly outlined his plan of attack on the compound.

  Cole liked the plan; it was simple yet effective. In his experience, the more complicated the plan, the greater the chance of something going wrong.

  “Until we destroy the jammers, I guess we’ll just have to assume that Garcia and Roberts managed to lead their teams to safety,” said Sheridan.

  “They may be young, but they’re good soldiers,” said Cole. “They’ll get their people where they need to go.” With that, he stood up and went to fetch them both some food.

  Sheridan checked the time. They had four hours to wait until they had to move out to attack the enemy position. He rooted around in his jacket pocket until he found some crackers. While he munched on his snack, Sheridan studied the faces of the people he was going to lead into battle. Unlike them, he had at least had seen combat and knew what to expect. He chuckled to himself when he realized that he was still relatively new to the business of war. What a difference a couple of months can make in a person’s life, thought Sheridan.

  Cole returned and handed Sheridan a warmed up ration. “Here, sir, eat this. You may not feel like eating, but your body needs the calories to keep you going in the cold.”

  Sheridan took the food and thanked Cole. “I hope the missing team knows to head back to the capital now that they’ve missed the rendezvous timing.”

  “Your orders were quite specific. They’re either on their way back or are dead. There’s nothing you can do about it, so I suggest you put them out of your mind until this is all over.”

  “Sergeant, when we step off, I want you on the far right-hand side of the assault force. If any Chosen soldiers or their Kurgan officers try to make a run for it, kill them. I don’t want anyone who may know how to work these jammers surviving the attack.”

  Cole nodded his head. He had anticipated Sheridan’s order. He would have given the same one if he had been in the young officer’s place.

  As night fell, the weather turned bitterly cold. A strong wind came from the north whipping the falling snow into a swirling maelstrom.

  Sheridan called his three team leaders to him. “Ok, we attack in five minutes time. Sling your Kurgan rifles and use your silenced pistols during the initial assault. I want two explosives charges per tent or vehicle. When you see a red pen flare fired up into the air, that’s your signal to withdraw. Move back in pairs to the RV and for God’s sake, don’t leave a man, dead or wounded, for the enemy to find. Everyone makes it back here or none of us does.”

  At the edge of the forest, Sheridan dropped to one knee, brought up his binoculars and studied the position one last time. He saw through the blowing snow four Chosen soldiers walking back and forth on the perimeter of the camp with their heads down. They looked unimpressed to be outside in the cold. He lowered his binoculars and placed them away. Sheridan looked at his people waiting in a long line for the signal to advance. Sheridan took a deep breath to calm the growing feeling of anxiety in his chest.

  There was nothing more they could do. It was time.

  Sheridan stood up. With his silenced pistol in his hand, he walked straight towards the center of the Kurgan installation. His teams quietly spread out and walked towards their intended targets. When he was within ten meters of the nearest guards, one of them saw him and called out for him to stop. Sheridan ignored the warrior and kept on walking. The soldier called out again and then reached for his weapon slung over his shoulder. Sheridan brought up his pistol and dropped the soldier and his partner before they could react. He stepped over their lifeless bodies and kept walking towards the main tent he had eaten in earlier. He watched as two of his men silently shot down a couple Chosen warriors before tossing their prepared charges under a long vehicle with several large antennas and dishes on its roof. They now all had ninety seconds to do what they had to before the charges detonated.

  Sheridan pulled open the flap to the tent and stepped inside. It was like stepping into a furnace. Several heaters turned on full blast warmed the room. His arrival didn’t stir anyone away from the warmth of the radiators. It was as if he was invisible. Sheridan couldn’t believe his luck. He quickly moved to one side, reached into his jacket and pulled out his charges. He flipped the safety switch to armed and dropped the explosives behind him. He counted down in his head. When he figured he had less than thirty seconds until the charges went off, he brought his pistol from behind his back and started shooting. With the image of Eve hanging lifeless from a tree in his mind, Sheridan yelled at the top of his lungs at the soldiers. He was going to exact his revenge. The first to die were the Kurgan officers followed by any Chosen, who went for their weapon. He kept firing as he edged backward for the opening. With their officers dead, the Chosen soldiers seemed to hesitate, unsure what they should do even though there was an enemy in their midst firing on them, killing them.

  A second later, he was outside. He dug out his pen flare, pointed it up into the night sky and fired it. With a pop, the flare opened up over the installation. Sheridan could see in the red light of the flare his people moving back. It was all going to plan when all of a sudden automatic gunfire erupted from outside of one of the vehicles. Sheridan turned his head just before the flare burnt out and saw a couple of his people fall. With a curse on his lips, Sheridan ran to help. He heard another burst of gunfire, only this time it came from some of his Marines. By the time he arrived by the two fallen soldiers, Cole and another man were already there, bending over to pick up the casualties.

  “Cover us,” called out Cole as he tossed Sheridan his rifle.

  Sheridan grabbed the weapon, checked that it was on full-auto, and fired off a long burst into a couple of Chosen soldiers who had run out into the night trying to stop them.

  A second later, a loud explosion tore through the camp. Bright orange and red flames leaped up into the sky, lighting up the installation. Several more powerful detonations rocked the night as vehicles and tents vanished in a wall of fire.

  Sheridan jogged beside Cole and the other Marine as they carried their casualties into the swirling snow and safety. They soon entered the woods
. Sheridan ran ahead, pushing the branches out of the way so the men following him with their wounded comrades wouldn’t be struck by them. Behind them, the last couple of charges went off destroying more of the installation and its jammers. A couple of minutes later, Sheridan stepped out into a small clearing. The rest of his people were already there waiting for him. A Marine with combat first aid training saw the two casualties being carried in and ran to help.

  Sheridan reached into a pocket and pulled out a small radio. He turned it on. With a grin on his unshaven face, he said to Cole, “We did it. We have a signal.” He quickly contacted divisional headquarters in the capital said, “Tarawa.” The code word for success.

  “Sir, Hebert is dead and Kim has a stomach wound,” reported Cole.

  “Damn,” snapped Sheridan. “Any other casualties?”

  “None to worry about. Allen and Charles were grazed by enemy gunfire, but they’ll be ok after they’ve been bandaged up and given some painkillers. Sir, without immediate medevac, I don’t think Kim’s going to last the night.”

  Sheridan shook his head. He’d hoped to pull his mission off without any casualties. He was about to say something when the clearing was suddenly lit up as bright as daylight from above.

  “Run!” yelled Sheridan just as a missile fired by a Kurgan drone struck the ground, exploding. Three Marines were killed by the blast, their broken bodies tumbling across the frozen ground. Sheridan’s people scattered and ran for their lives.

  Cole and Sheridan stopped under a tall fir tree and looked up into the dark, trying to spot the drone. The sound of another missile streaking through the air made both men duck. A split second later, another warhead exploded nearby killing more of the already hammered team. Sheridan knew they had to do something about the drone before they were all systematically hunted down and killed.

  Cole looked over at Sheridan, “Sir, do you have any more flares?”

  “Yes,” replied Sheridan as he pulled out his pen flare launcher.