by PP Corcoran
“The designers of the fort followed an age-old rule of allowing for a cleared area, free from any obstacles which could provide cover for an enemy attacking the fort, and providing a kill zone for the fort’s defenders. This kill zone extends out from the fort’s walls to the nearest civilian building, 515 meters at its narrowest and reaching out 723 meters at its widest. Now, combine this kill zone with the fact that we would have to lower a section of the shields to allow any escaping troops to pass through. I’m not just talking about dropping the shields for the tenths of a second that the fort’s computers command the shields to lower to allow the fort’s defensive weaponry, surface to air weapons, energy cannon and so on to operate. We would require the shields to be dropped and raised again manually, and that gap in our shields could easily be exploited by an attacker who knows what they’re doing. Factor in that the troops would then have to cover the kill zone under enemy fire, and I think we can agree that their chances of survival are, to be generous, slim.”
Reynolds felt the thin hope that Ashgrove had found a solution to her dilemma slipping away, and a not too subtle look across to Agani let him know she was reaching the end of her patience. In response, the major gave her a raised open palm gesture, suggesting she give Ashgrove some leeway. If the captain had noticed the exchange between his two superiors, he ignored it and went on with his briefing.
“So, if dropping the shields and running like hell across open terrain is tantamount to suicide, then I began to consider more radical solutions.” An odd lopsided smile spread across the marine captain’s face. “And believe me, ma’am, some of them were pretty radical. Evacuation via air is out. If the enemy have us surrounded and penned into the fort, then they undoubtedly already have air superiority. One of my sergeants, who shall remain nameless, suggested sowing mini nukes around the fort which we could detonate, and then don rad suits and simply walk through the ensuing devastation. When I pointed out the small problem of civilian casualties, the sergeant looked suitably abashed, ma’am.”
A barely suppressed snort of laughter from Agani was stymied by a withering look from Reynolds. “I don’t think Governor Vandenberg would be impressed if we irradiated his capital city, Captain Ashgrove. Could we get to the point, please?”
The smile on Ashgrove’s face disappeared as he became businesslike once more. “Yes, ma’am. So, if we can’t go out through the shields, or up via aircraft, then that only leaves down.” With a tap of controls, several seemingly random thin blue lines spread themselves over the fort, the surrounding kill zone and the city proper. “What you are looking at, ma’am, are water pipes. A mix of fresh water, sewage and storm drains, to be exact, that crisscross the entire city at a depth varying from a couple of meters to tens of meters. Some of which run right under our feet.”
Reynolds slowly uncrossed her legs. Standing, she made her way around her desk, eyes fixed on the floating image, oblivious to the smirking face of Major Agani standing off to one side. “Tell me more, Captain,” she ordered Ashgrove.
A bright green line weaved crazily from a point barely within the fort’s walls, zigzagging back and forth as it made its way westward before coming to the edge of the image. “That green line is a storm drain. It’s easily big enough for a fully loaded marine to walk through. If we can get into it, then we can egress through it without anyone being any the wiser. The storm drain comes out about two kilometers to the west in a place called Riverside Park.”
Reynolds enthusiastically slapped the captain on the back, a barking, un-officer like laugh coming from deep at the back of her throat. “Outstanding, Captain Ashgrove. Outstanding.”
Like many things in the military, Ashgrove’s plan had been filed away, most likely never to see the light of day again; until the K’Tai came calling and Governor Vandenberg vacillated too long in her decision making, thereby, trapping her marines within the walls of Fort Sheridan. Plan Shadow, which started out as a tactical problem, became the only lifeline the marines had and, lying on the grassy mound observing the area where her marines were meant to egress through, she could only hope the plan was working.
By her chrono, Reynolds had been still for the better part of fifteen minutes when her hawk-like vision was drawn to a subtle change in the outline of the gully's man-made perfection. Where there should be a neat horizontal line, there had appeared a small inconsistency. A bump. Reynolds continued to watch as the first bump was joined by a second a few meters further along the gully. Over the next five minutes, Reynolds counted a dozen of these bumps spread along the lip of the gully at regular intervals. Reynolds activated her wrist comm and concentrated as she typed in a complex series of ten numbers and letters. Checking a second time that it was correct, she tapped the send key, allowing the compact device to transmit the data in a short-range burst. Holding her breath, she waited for the reply. After a ten count, her wrist comm vibrated silently to gain her attention. Reynolds looked down at the fresh set of letters and numbers displayed in red. The little device compared these to the ones stored in its erasable memory, briefly, before changing the illuminated numbers from red to green. The reply to her coded challenge had been answered correctly. With a wary scan of her immediate area for signs of K’Tai, Reynolds jumped up and darted across the open ground toward the gully. Drawing closer, the indistinct bumps along the gully lip resolved into the camouflaged heads of marines, the black snouts of their assault rifles tracking her as she ran across the park’s green grass. At the lip of the gully Reynolds didn’t slow her pace, allowing gravity to drop her into the gully and its hard permacrete floor with a bone-jarring crunch, knocking the wind from her momentarily. An unseen hand reached out to steady her.
“Glad to see you’re still in one piece, ma’am,” whispered a gravelly female voice, the thick, slow pronunciation only serving to emphasize the distinctive Algeron accent.
Reynolds lay back on the steep gully sides, eyes flicking around, resting for a moment on each of the heavily armed marines spread along the gully, weapons pointing outward, ready to take on any threat. A sense of relief washed over her at being reunited with her marines. “What’s the situation, Sergeant Major?”
Sergeant Major Ola Turay was the battalion’s senior non-commissioned officer, a veteran marine for twenty-three years who answered to Reynolds and Reynolds alone. Turay didn’t bother to activate her wrist comm or the more comprehensive data slate integrated into her body armor, reciting the details of the battalion’s move from memory. “Recce Platoon have secured the route from where we are now out as far as Point Gamma, the designated rally point at the edge of the forest. Captain Ashgrove has positioned guides every 500 meters to warn us of any enemy movement along the route and to sweep up any strays who get lost. Alpha and Bravo companies have already passed through the rally point, where they have broken down into platoon-sized elements and are making their way independently to their designated operating areas. Charlie Company has two platoons at the rally point, with the third platoon somewhere between here and there as we speak. Major Agani ordered Headquarters Company split up between the four line companies, with six marines remaining here to secure this end of the storm drain and ready to form an ad hoc TOC ready for your arrival.”
Reynolds let an appreciative grunt slip out. Trust Agani to think ahead and assign her enough marines to run a sparse, but effective Tactical Operations Center from which she could run the battalion in the field. “Have we had any contact with Major Oyama?” If Turay detected a worried edge in the colonel’s voice, she chose to ignore it. Oyama was the battalion’s Training Officer and he had been supervising the mountain training of two platoons from Delta Company based high up in the Scraggy Mountains. His role in Plan Shadow was key to its success, and Reynolds was anxious to ensure that he was aware of its implementation. The neutral face of the sergeant major did not bode well.
“We managed to get the signal out that Plan Shadow was in effect, but we did not receive an acknowledgment before K’Tai electronic warfare m
anaged to block the links. Major Agani ordered us to proceed on the presumption that the message had been received and Major Oyama was proceeding with the plan.”
Reynolds nodded her head slowly without saying a word. Plan Shadow called for Oyama to rapidly disperse whatever manpower he had available to secure the hidden munitions dumps located in each of what would become the various platoons Areas of Responsibility, or AORs. His secondary task was to remove everything he physically could from the training base and move it to what some unnamed marine had euphemistically dubbed ‘The Redoubt’. A fancy name for a dark, cold hole in the ground, high above the snow line, and a long tiring five-day walk for a marine carrying a pack weighing upwards of fifty-five kilograms on his back. A brief check of her chrono and a glance at the slowly lowering sun in the sky, allied with the thought of the arduous walk before her, brought a renewed sense of urgency to Reynolds. It was imperative they made it to the relative safety of the rally point before sundown. A thumping of hurrying feet from the darkness of the storm drain caused her to swing her attention to the drain’s gaping black maw, searching for the source of the sound. Reynolds did not have to wait long as a line of marines emerged from the depths of the storm drain. Hands reached up to remove night vision goggles as the newcomers squinted in the unfamiliar sunlight. Reynolds recognized the lead marine as Lieutenant Prus, his bright red hair hidden under his helmet and freckled face smothered in camouflage paint, but his boyish looks made him unmistakable. Prus spotted the colonel and hurried over as Sergeant Major Turay began efficiently adding the lieutenant's marines to those of the TOC along the edges of the gully. Prus crouched down beside Reynolds, his assault rifle resting across his knees and his face taut, opening his mouth to speak; however, a raised hand from Reynolds cut him off.
“Perhaps we should wait for Captain Eblin and let her…” began Reynolds, only for the young lieutenant to cut her off.
“I’m ranking officer for Delta now, ma’am,” Prus stated, his voice free of any emotion. Reynolds held his gaze. The junior officer in front of her was no longer the carefree soul of that morning. The now haunted eyes a sure sign they had witnessed combat in its harshest, most intimate form. Reynolds reached out and gripped his shoulder, firmly holding eye contact with him.
“Are we good, Lieutenant?” Reynolds needed to know if he could hold it together or whether he was on the ragged edge.
Prus did not flinch. “Yes, ma’am, I’m good.”
Reynolds gave his shoulder a squeeze before releasing her hand, reassured the young man was not going to go off the deep end. “Very well, when Major Agani gets here…” For the second time in as many minutes, Prus interrupted her.
“The major isn’t coming, ma’am.”
Reynolds felt as though she had been gut punched. Anger welled up in her at the lieutenant's blunt statement. “What the hell do you mean Agani isn’t coming?”
Prus’ experiences over the past couple of hours had hardened his emotions more than he himself realized; where once he would have flinched at a superior officer’s tongue lashing, now he remained blank-faced as Reynolds demanded a response from him.
“The major was injured pretty early on during the K’Tai assault, ma’am. Doc Perrott insisted that he report to the Sick Bay, but the major refused. He continued to supervise the withdrawal. When it came down to the last of us, he…he…” Reynolds softened as she saw Prus was struggling to come to terms with what had happened at the fort, her own anger leaching away; her voice, when it came, had none of the brutal harshness that it had had before.
“Get it out, son.”
Prus’ fingers flexed on his rifle as he fought to control his raw emotions. “The major ordered me to take the last of the able-bodied and head out while he, the Doc and the wounded remained behind, manning the defenses so the K’Tai wouldn’t get a whiff that we were pulling out. When we were safely into the storm drain I…I…” Prus’ fingers went white as his grip on the rifle tightened, his jaw set and his eyes locked on to those of Reynolds. “Once we were in the drain, I ordered the entrance blown to mask our line of retreat.”
Reynolds felt her jaw drop open in disbelief. Her voice escaped her as she so wanted to shout and scream and berate the junior officer for breaking the most sacred rule of a combat marine. No one. No one gets left behind! Only the haunted face of Prus caused her to stay her fury. Instead she rolled back on her heels, sitting down heavily on the soft ground, head spinning at the thought of one of her officers abandoning his wounded comrades. After a few moments, the cold light of logic broke through. She put herself in her friend Agani’s position. He had chosen to remain behind and effectively signed his and the wounded’s death warrant, but, their sacrifice bought the marines who had escaped the fort the time they needed to get clear.
Prus’ actions in blowing the entrance ensured there was no trace of where the escaped marines had vanished to. It was the right thing to do, no matter how unpalatable to her sense of duty and honor. Agani and those with him had known what they were doing. Reynolds felt a new resolve chasing away her despair at losing such a close friend. Prus was still looking at her, eyes pleading with her for some sign of vindication for his actions.
“Lieutenant, I can only hope that when the time comes I have the courage to do the right thing, just as you have done here.”
His look of relief couldn’t be hidden by the camouflage streaking his face, but his voice wavered with still unresolved uncertainty. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Well, his actions are something that he’ll come to terms with, in time, thought Reynolds, but right now she had to ensure that Agani’s life and the lives of his marines were not wasted. “OK, Lieutenant, you are hereby promoted to Acting Captain. Let’s get your marines moving to that rally point, we have a lot of ground to cover and you can bet your life that the K’Tai will be coming this way soon.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Prus moved off to round up his command, and Reynolds followed his back as he made his way along the narrow gully, the marines of Delta forming up behind him as he went. Among the sudden movement a single marine remained unmoving, like a rock protruding from a constantly moving sea. Sergeant Major Ola Turay regarded Reynolds with a stoic expression. Reynolds returned the look for a few seconds before Turay glanced left and right, ensuring no marines were looking her way before she gave Reynolds a single thumbs-up. With a smile that didn’t fool the veteran, Reynolds returned the thumbs-up, grateful for the sergeant major’s concern.
That was enough for Turay, who bent to organizing the move of the last marines. Alone for the moment, Reynolds allowed her eyes to close and focus on the sound of the distant battle raging around the fort. The steady thump of energy cannon firing and the sizzling crash as the shields fought to retain their integrity under the bombardment. The higher pitched reply of the fort’s fixed defenses, light and medium laser and particle weapons. The shrieking of the K’Tai aero fighters pummeling the shields from above, desperately searching for that momentary failure that would allow their ordnance to penetrate to the fort’s interior, causing yet more death and destruction among the defenders.
“We’re ready to move, ma’am.” The thick Algeron accent broke into Reynolds’ reverie, her eyes snapping open. “Thought you might prefer one of these to that pop gun you’re carrying.” Turay was holding an assault rifle in one outstretched hand; Reynolds wondered where the sergeant major had located a spare rifle before she spotted a splattering of blood on the weapon’s stock and decided not to ask. There were going to be plenty of weapons to go around in the future.
“Why thank you, Sergeant Major,” said Reynolds with her best attempt at a smile, accepting the rifle and automatically checking the magazine and charge status. “Time for us to be on our way, I think.”
Refusing to look back, Reynolds started off along the permacrete gully, the sound of battle receding with every step.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A School Teacher?
H HOUR PLUS FOURTEEN HOURS
Sue had given up trying to control the shivering of her muscles. Lack of sleep, lack of food and the occasional mouthful of brackish water from a stream in passing was simply not enough for her body to maintain the arduous pace that she needed to keep up if she was to stay ahead of her K’Tai pursuers.
Sue checked her wrist comm, the bright, sharp numerals reading 0410. Sue’s dulled brain struggled to do the math, eventually coming up with the correct number. Not bad, Sue, a little over fourteen hours, she congratulated herself. Fourteen hours that had consisted of alternately running, hiding and vicious close-quarter fire fights as Sue had led the K’Tai soldiers in a deadly dance in the hope of giving Jodee and Chris the opportunity to reach safety. Unfortunately for Sue, this had meant that she had had to ensure the K’Tai kept her as their priority, so whenever she managed to give the enemy the slip rather than disappearing into the bush, Sue was forced to turn the tables on the K’Tai and do a spot of hunting of her own. So far two K’Tai patrols had fallen victim to one of Sue’s improvised ambushes. Sue was always careful to leave at least one survivor who would report the ambush and call for help, drawing ever increasing numbers of K’Tai into the chase for Sue. A dangerous game, but one that had to be played if the kids were to make good their escape.
Sue glanced up as the first rays of the sun, partially obscured by the large leaves of her latest hiding place, began to chase away the dark night that had helped conceal her from the prying eyes of the K’Tai. Sue was no fool, it was only a matter of time before the K’Tai employed more technically advanced methods like bio scanners and infrared to located her. For now, she hoped they were kept busy enough in other areas to ill-afford deploying precious resources to track down a single woman.