Renegade (The Kurgan War Book 7)

by Richard Turner

  “Sir, I don’t understand. Why did you do that?” asked Jabari.

  Sheridan placed a hand on the sergeant’s shoulder. “I have my reasons. Please continue to supervise the improvements. I’m going forward to site some more danger close artillery targets. I have a feeling in my guts that we’re going to need them before too long.”

  Chapter 30

  From where Tarina stood, the Sayan Highlands looked like hell on Earth. Most of the ridgeline was hidden behind thick clouds of black smoke. The occasional white flash showed where the shells were landing the thickest. Tarina turned her head away. She couldn’t take it anymore. The thought that her husband may be somewhere under the hail of shells and rockets pained her heart.

  From out of the low hanging clouds, a Kurgan drone flew straight overhead. Tarina heard it coming, threw herself to the ground, and watched as it kept going toward the fighting.

  “Get up,” barked one of her captors.

  “I don’t get it,” said Tarina, surprised to still be alive. “We have nowhere to hide. Why didn’t it fire on us?”

  “That’s because the Kurgs and our people don’t give a damn about us. They know we’re out here. Since we do nothing to interfere with their activities, they leave us alone to scavenge the wastelands for food and medicine. Why waste a perfectly good missile when you don’t have to?”

  Tarina stood up, brushed the muck from her mask, and moved her hand over her pocket. The knife was still there.

  “Get back in line,” ordered the man.

  Tarina walked back behind the cart the scavengers had placed Wendy in and carried on walking. There had been eight men an hour ago, but five of them had become bored with the slow pace and taken off. With one man pulling the cart, there were only two scavengers with weapons left to guard her.

  “How much further do we have to walk?” she asked in her best whiny voice.

  “We’ve got a way to go yet, missy,” said the man behind her. “Why? Are you in a hurry for some company? If you are, we could always find us a basement somewhere and take a break.”

  Not on your life, she thought. She looked over her shoulder and said, “I can wait. It’s just that my feet are sore.”

  “Well, that’s just too bad. Keep ‘em moving, missy.”

  Tarina looked ahead and saw the man pulling the cart and the man in front of him weren’t paying any attention to what was going on behind them. Her pulse began to quicken when she realized there wouldn’t be a better opportunity for her to try to escape. She slipped her hand in her pocket, wrapped it around the pocket knife and extended the blade. Tarina pretended to twist her ankle and stagger forward a couple of paces before pointing at her left foot.

  “Jesus, missy, you don’t want to have gone and hurt yourself,” said her guard, walking over to check her out.

  Tarina waited until the last possible moment to strike. She took one last look at the two other men, neither of whom had yet noticed she had stopped, and drew the knife from her pocket. Her heart was racing in her chest. Tarina knew it was a case of them or her and Wendy.

  “Let me see your foot,” said the man as he bent down to check her injury.

  With all the strength she could muster, Tarina jammed the knife in her hand through the side of the man’s mask and into his temple. Before his body hit the ground, she yanked the dying man’s rifle out of his hands, brought it up, and fired a burst into the back of the lead scavenger. The man fell forward into the mud.

  The last man alive let go of the cart and struggled to pull his weapon from his shoulder.

  “Don’t!” warned Tarina. “I’ve already killed two of your friends. I won’t hesitate to kill you as well.”

  The man raised his hands. “Easy does it, lady.”

  “Screw you. Now turn around so I can see you.”

  The man did as he was told.

  Tarina could see the anger seething in the scavenger’s eyes. “Drop your rifle to the ground and any other weapons you may be carrying.”

  The gun fell right by the man’s feet.

  “I’m not an idiot. Kick it away from you.”

  With a hard boot, the rifle flew into a puddle. The man slowly reached into his pockets and tossed aside a couple of knives and a pistol.

  “Is that everything?” asked Tarina.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t lie to her,” said Wendy, holding a blade against the man’s crotch.

  The scavenger swore and pulled out two more knives. “Now I’m unarmed. What are you going to do, shoot me in cold blood?”

  “That would be too good for you,” replied Tarina. “Take five steps to your right, put your hands on our head, and then get down on your knees.”

  “What if I say no?”

  “Then my friend will make you a eunuch.”

  The man grumbled aloud but moved aside.

  With her rifle trained on the scavenger, Tarina walked over to the cart.

  “Hey, there,” said Wendy, waving up at her.

  “I thought you were still out from the drugs?”

  “I was. But I’ve been playing possum for the past hour. They never searched me, so I’ve had my knife in my hand ever since I woke up. I was looking for an opportunity to escape, but you beat me to it.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Tarina glanced over at their captive. “It looks like our friend just became useful. On your feet.”

  “What do you want?” asked the man.

  “First off, drop the attitude. Whether you live or die is unimportant to me,” said Tarina. “Take hold of the cart and start walking toward that rock formation in the distance.”

  “Which one?”

  “The one that looks like a church spire.”

  “Are you nuts? There’s nothing out there.”

  “That’s for me to worry about, not you. Now do as you’re told and you may get to live to see another day. Oh, by the way, don’t try any sudden moves. I’m tired, and I’m cranky. I’d hate for this gun to go off by accident.”

  The man shook his head, bent down, grabbed the cart, and began to walk.

  As she walked past the man’s dropped weapons, Tarina scooped up his pistol and a knife. “Hey, Wendy, catch,” she said, tossing the pistol to her friend.

  Wendy made sure it was loaded before pointing at the man’s crotch. “If you think my colleague is a bitch, try something with me. I’ll gladly castrate you and leave you out here to die.”

  Behind her mask, Tarina chuckled. She thought it funny how things could turn in the blink of an eye.

  “Tarina, at this pace, how long do you think it’ll take us to get to the shuttle?”

  “I think it’s around noon, so I’d have to say we’ll get there sometime around supper time.”

  “Good, because these drugs are beginning to wear off. I’m praying that the ship will have a medical kit. I don’t care if it’s a Kurgan one. I need something for this pain.”

  “Just hold on. We’ll get you that medicine come hell or high water.”

  “Did you say you ladies have a shuttle?” queried the man.

  “Yeah, but you’ll never step foot in it,” replied Tarina. “It’s not for you.”

  “What if I told you I know where there’s a fortune in gold that was buried the day before the Kurgs arrived?”

  Tarina jammed the muzzle of her rifle into the back of the scavenger’s head so hard he winced. “Listen up, mister; we don’t want nor need your gold. Shut your mouth and keep walking.”

  “Okay, but what if I were to tell you I know where—”

  “Say another word, and it’ll be your last.”

  The man’s shoulders dropped.

  “Good boy, now march.”

  Chapter 31

  “Incoming!” cried out Adams.

  Sheridan had been taking a short nap. He sat up, opened his eyes, saw Adams diving for the bottom of the trench, and joined him.

  The whistle of incoming artillery projectiles
filled the air. The ground shook as hundreds of shells landed on the Devil’s Rock. Large chunks of rock were torn from the hill and thrown skyward. Like so many meteorites striking the Earth, the rocks rained back onto the men huddled at the bottom of the trenches.

  Sheridan placed his hands over his head and wondered how many more bombardments he would have to suffer under before it was all over. A shell landed directly inside one of the closest trenches, killing the men inside it. A shattered body flew up into the air like a rag doll. A severed arm fell on the dirt next to Sheridan’s head, making him recoil back.

  The hellish shelling lasted for close to an hour. The soldiers stuck on the hill could do nothing but lie still and try to endure the unendurable. The bombardment abruptly shifted and targeted the guns and ammunition depots dug into the rock kilometers behind the ridge.

  Sheridan got to his knees and cleared away the dust from his mask so he could see. He tapped Adams on the back. “You okay?”

  Adams rolled over. “I am now.”

  “Get in contact with Mister Emil and see if the Kurgans are on the move.”

  “Right, sir.”

  A grunt escaped Sheridan’s lips when he stood up. He didn’t think there was a place on his aching body that hadn’t been hit by flying rocks and debris. A cloud of dust still covered the hill, making it difficult for Sheridan to see more than a couple of meters in front of him. He heard a man mumbling something unintelligible. A second later, the man staggered out of his trench. His eyes were glossy. He dragged his rifle behind him as if it were a stick. There was blood and dirt caked on his uniform.

  “Jabari!” yelled Sheridan.

  “Yes, sir,” said the sergeant as he emerged out of the haze, carrying his sword over his right shoulder.

  “Send this man to the rear. He’s in shock. He’s no good to anyone if he stays up here with us.”

  “Right, sir.” Jabari took the soldier’s rifle from him, guided the soldier toward a trench running to the back of their position, and sent him on his way.

  “Here they come!” hollered a soldier.

  Sheridan sprinted back to his command post which overlooked his soldiers’ trenches. The sound of the chain guns cutting through the air let him know his platoon was engaged. With the dust still hanging in the air, very few people could see the Kurgans as they climbed and clawed their way up the slopes. Everyone else was firing on pre-set arcs. The enemy was cut down, whole ranks at a time, without ever seeing who was shooting at them.

  The battalion’s mortar platoon also got into the battle and began to drop shells on the tightly packed Kurgan ranks at the bottom of the hill.

  Sheridan felt his mouth turn dry. He reached for his canteen, screwed his drinking apparatus into the lid and took a long swig. If it was going to be his last drink, he was going to savor it.

  “Sir, we’ve got a crapload of incoming Kurgan fighter-bombers and drones,” reported Adams.

  Anti-aircraft missiles streaked up into the leaden clouds, seeking out their targets. Sheridan brought up his binoculars and looked up at the sky. A line of explosions rippled through the clouds as the missiles struck home. Within seconds, flaming debris fell to the ground. What he didn’t realize was that the first wave of attacking aircraft were all out of date, unarmed Kurgan UAVs used to soak up the incoming fire. The grin on Sheridan’s face disappeared when a long line of missiles burst forth from the clouds, going supersonic and striking the length of the ridgeline. Behind him, heavy weapons platforms, artillery pieces, and command bunkers were obliterated. He gritted his teeth as he knew the worst was yet to come. Sheridan heard the roar of the engines and looked up as a wave of Kurgan fighter-bombers dove at the ridge.

  “Get down,” he yelled as the triangular Kurgan planes flew right over their position and released their arsenal of death before climbing back up into the sky. The Kurgan pilots fired off all their countermeasures, trying to avoid the anti-aircraft guns and missiles targeting them.

  One of the first bombs to hit the ground landed within meters of Sheridan’s post and ignited. The thermal gel spread out like a raging wave of fire and consumed anyone in its path. A second bomb landed right in front of Sheridan’s chain guns, bounced in the air, and tumbled end over end until it came to a jarring stop against a boulder. Thankfully, the device didn’t go off.

  A man covered in burning gel scrambled out of his trench, screaming in in agony as he was roasted alive. A shot cut through the air. The doomed man fell to the ground, dead.

  Sheridan saw Adams lower his rifle. Had Cole been here, he probably would have done the same thing and ended the man’s life rather than let him die in writhing agony. Sheridan knew it was better not to say a word and turned to look at what was left of his forward squads’ positions. Partly hidden in smoke and fire, Sheridan could only see a couple of trenches.

  Small-arms fire, which had abated during the aerial assault, picked up as Kurgan troops reached the top of the hill and swarmed forward, firing as they ran. The first warriors to reach the trenches died before they could get close enough to get to grips with their enemy. Kurgan drones vectored over to Sheridan’s location, firing off a barrage of missiles in an attempt to kill the men slowing up the Kurgan advance.

  “Get onto Emil and tell him we need fire brought down on our front line or the Kurgs are going to gain lodgment,” said Sheridan to Adams.

  “Sir, look,” called Jabari as several squads of Kurgans bypassed the forward squads and sprinted through the position. Like water finding a way around rocks, the Kurgans weaved their way through heavy rifle fire and broken ground until they were on their way to what remained of the unit’s command post.

  Sheridan shot at one of the warriors and brought him down. “Cover me,” he said, jumping out of his trench. Sheridan ran to the dead Kurgan’s side and rolled him over. The Kurgan wasn’t wearing a gas mask and the soldier, instead of carrying a rifle, had explosives strapped to his chest.

  They’re not using gas flashed through Sheridan’s mind. He reached up and yanked off his respirator and took in a lungful of air. The acrid smell of burnt gel assaulted his nostrils; however, Sheridan didn’t care. If the enemy was forgoing the use of their masks, so was he. Sheridan sprinted back to his trench and slid down inside.

  “Adams, pass the word that the Kurgs aren’t using gas, and it looks like they’re using suicide bombers.”

  The young soldier hauled off his mask and took in a long breath through his nostrils before grabbing his handset.

  “Die, you sons of bitches!” cried Jabari.

  Sheridan popped his head up. His jaw dropped when he spotted Jabari in the open ground hacking at serval Kurgan warriors with his sword. There were already three dead Kurgans at his feet. Sheridan brought up his rifle to fire when out of the blowing smoke ran a suicide bomber. He spun on his heel and fired. The Kurgan, less than five meters from Sheridan’s trench, was hit twice in the chest and exploded. The blast knocked Sheridan off his feet. He fell back inside his trench and hit the ground, hard. He heard a snap. Pain shot from his left elbow straight up his arm. Sheridan grimaced in pain when he tried to sit up.

  “Here, let me help you,” said Adams. Together they got Sheridan sitting up against the wall of the trench.

  “I think I’ve broken my elbow,” said Sheridan, through gritted teeth.

  “Looks that way. Hold still for a minute.” Adams dug out a small med kit from a pouch on his belt and gave Sheridan a potent painkiller. Next, he made a sling and tied it around Sheridan’s arm.

  “Thanks,” said Sheridan as he got to his feet. He looked for his rifle and found it laying on the ground with a bent barrel. Sheridan drew his pistol and peered over the lip of the trench. He swore when he found Jabari’s body lying on the ground with a sword sticking out of his chest. The only consolation was the brave man had taken seven Kurgans with him.

  “Sir, I passed on your message for support, but I don’t think there’s much they can do for us right now,” reported Adams.
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br />   Sheridan felt drained. He nodded and said, “Please keep trying.”

  “One last thing. Mister Emil is dead. From battalion, you are now the company commander.”

  “Commander of what? I doubt we have three squads’ worth of men still on their feet.”

  The unexpected loud buzz of a large caliber chain gun startled Sheridan. He turned about and looked behind him. Through the haze, Sheridan could make out three tall dark shapes moving from the rear lines toward his position. The wind shifted, moving the dust clouds away and exposing the three mechanical Guardians as they strode forward, blasting every Kurgan they saw to hell.

  “Thank God,” declared Sheridan, relieved to see the mechanical fighters.

  A Kurgan UAV, high in the clouds, fired a salvo of rockets at one of the Guardians, destroying it. From all over the battlefield, man-portable, anti-aircraft missiles shot up into the sky and brought down the drone.

  Sheridan placed a hand to his mouth. “There are Kurgans on the position. In pairs, observe to the front and the rear.”

  “Sir, battalion headquarters is reporting that the Guardians have stopped the Kurgans’ advance,” announced Adams. “Unfortunately, they’re consolidating their gains and occupying any piece of good ground they can find.”

  “Did they say if the division is planning on releasing any reserves to push the Kurgs off the ridge?”

  “I don’t think so. Everyone is committed.”

  “Damn,” said Sheridan as a plan began the gel in his mind. He looked at the ground between his command post and his lead two squads. Sheridan smiled when he saw what he was looking for. “Adams, I’m going to lure the Kurgs back to our position. Let the boys know not to shoot me as I’ll be carrying a Kurgan flag and not to open fire on any Kurgs until I give the order to do so.”

  “Sir, is this really a good idea?”

  “Ask me again in two minutes’ time.” Sheridan crawled out of his trench. He dashed over to the corpse of a dead Kurgan officer and picked up the crimson banner lying by his side. Sheridan ran over to a tall boulder and stood on top of it. He waved the flag in the air high above his head.