by Daniel Gibbs
“Well, heck, you guys just got here,” David said, a lopsided grin on his face. “I figured you’d want to stay awhile and say hi to some of our friends back at Feldt’s little compound.”
Another power-armored soldier marched up and raised his helmet, revealing the face of Harrell. “I personally wouldn’t mind wishing a very warm tier-one welcome to the rest of these guys, Master Chief.”
While shaking his head, MacDonald snickered. “Well, seeing as you’re the ranking officer, Colonel, we’ll do whatever you want.”
David glanced at Eldred. “Let’s finish this and allow Ramirez’s sacrifice to mean something.”
“Amen, Colonel.”
“Master Chief, I assume you brought high-powered tier-one comms equipment?”
“And a nerd to run it. Rostami! Get over here!”
23
Hanson pulled down his uniform top, an absent-minded reaction to stress. Gazing across the bridge of the Lion of Judah, he fought to keep his concern in check. The last they’d heard from the commando team, they were proceeding into enemy-held territory. It must get easier at some point. Otherwise, the colonel couldn’t do it day in and day out.
Lieutenant Bell, the backup communications officer, interrupted his thoughts. “Conn, communications. I’ve got a direct feed from Alpha team, sir.”
“Put it on the CO’s viewer,” Hanson said, automatically glancing up.
David’s face appeared on the screen, covered in sand, smeared with blood, but still smiling.
Oh, thank God. “Colonel! Are you okay, sir?”
“I’m fine. We all are. Feldt’s thugs, not so much. Are you keeping my ship in one piece, Major?”
Hanson blushed. “Yes, sir. No paint scratched.”
“Good. I know the idea was to bring me home, but I’ve decided we’re not done here.”
“Sir?”
“Alpha team, Agent Eldred, and I are going to press on and attack Feldt directly. We’ll never get a better chance. I want the Lion standing by to engage his ship, in case he gets away. We believe he has a destroyer class vessel.”
“Disable or destroy, sir?”
David flashed a thin smile. “Disable. This monster needs to answer for his crimes in front of the Terran Coalition court of justice.”
“Aye aye, sir. I’m sure his ship will be no match for us.”
“Watch the overconfidence, Hanson. Never underestimate an opponent, regardless of who it is.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get Colonel Demood ready for VBSS, along with some of his Marines.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Cohen out.”
“Godspeed, sir.”
“Same to you, Major.”
The feed cut off, leaving Hanson staring forward. He glanced to his side to see Ruth, perched in the XO’s chair, a wolfish grin plastered across her face. “Looking forward to the engagement?”
Ruth smiled coldly. “I have a special dislike for criminals who prey on others.”
“Amen.”
The small team had swept above the sands of the desert on their heavy assault shuttle right up until they hit the outskirts of the little settlement. Too small to be called anything like a city, it more resembled a frontier town on an outer edge mining planet. Or something from the Old West back on Earth, if there were horses instead of solar-powered mini-carts everywhere. David smirked at the thought as he glanced around. The commandos had provided special-operations power armor and advanced battle rifles to both David and Eldred, enabling them to keep up.
After dismounting, MacDonald had point, cautiously going down the deserted streets toward the central operations building. It was easy to identify because it was the nicest building of the ramshackle bunch. “So did we waste his entire cadre of soldiers?” he said through the commlink. There was enough emphasis on the last word to get across the old commando’s clear distaste.
“I doubt it, Master Chief,” Eldred interjected. “Sure, we took out a lot of his manpower, but I’d expect at least that many more.”
David grunted. “It’s like peeling an onion.”
“More like shooting an onion,” MacDonald replied with a grunt.
As the banter continued, there was movement ahead of them. Men and women in civilian clothing ran across the street. One of the benefits to the special-ops armor was enhancements to the helmet optics. The fluttering of a cloth covering an open window pulled David’s attention to it. He held up his fist, sending the signal to stop to the team. “Possible sniper, third-story window, two from the center going left.”
MacDonald’s rough voice filled the commlink. “Acknowledged.” The report of a rifle firing sounded, and a bullet pinged off the tough power armor the commando wore. “Mata! Light that asshole up!”
The armor-suited form of Alpha team’s sniper stood, holding an automatic grenade launcher. Two fragmentation grenades went flying through the open window, exploding violently. They were followed by a single incendiary grenade that set fire to the entire room. Orange flames roared out of the open window, and in the space of thirty seconds, started to spread.
“Well, he’s going to be extra crispy,” Rostami said with a snicker.
“I like these guys already, Colonel,” Eldred commented cheerfully.
MacDonald grunted. “We don’t do civilians on ops very often.”
“Well, we did allow an Amish girl to help us last year,” Rostami replied.
David laughed. “That’s about as civilian as you can get, gentlemen.” These guys have an entirely different lens to look through war. I think they enjoy it. I respect them like nothing else, but I’ll never enjoy it. The pain of seeing those who die under my command will forever be too much.
For another fifty meters, they proceeded without incident. Then, without warning, gunmen sprang up from what seemed like every window, door, even a sewer grate, spraying the area in front of them with bullets. MacDonald took numerous rounds to his armor before he was able to make it to cover in the doorway of a shop. The rest of the team scattered as best as they could and started gamely returning the enemy fire.
“I think this is what they call an ambush,” David grunted into his comm as he picked out a target and put three rounds into an unlucky gunman’s center mass.
“No shit, sir,” Harrell commented. He too, took out an enemy with sustained gunfire from his squad automatic weapon.
A trio of enemies ran into the street, one hefting a long tube. He put it to his shoulder and fired. A rocket roared out, flying in a straight line. It slammed into the second story of a building where two of the commandos had taken refuge in its doorway. Flaming debris rained down, along with the smoke.
“Crap, they’ve got unguided rockets. On me, spacewalkers!” MacDonald yelled as he broke cover and sprayed the men with bullets. Two of the other commandos joined in, quickly felling the trio. The maneuver, while effective, wasn’t without its cost. There were still dozens of active enemies firing on them, and even the best Terran Coalition technology had its limits.
Rostami fell forward before Harrell pulled him back to cover. “Mata, get over here. Rostami took a round to the chest. Not sure if it got through his armor, but he’s got a breach here.”
“On it, Senior Chief,” Carlos Mata, who doubled as the team’s medic, called into the suit integrated commlink.
David cued up a private line to MacDonald. “At the risk of being completely obvious, we need to punch through this mob, Master Chief.”
“Got any bright ideas, Colonel?”
“Your shuttle got any tactical rockets left?”
“Yeah, but this area has a lot of civilians in it, sir.”
Incoming fire rained down on David and the rest of the team. Most of them couldn’t lean out of whatever cover they’d been able to attain to return fire gamely. His brain went through the options as quickly as possible. The general CDF rules of engagement flashed through his mind. Whenever possible, use maximum care to avoid civilian casualties. Do no
t fire into civilian areas or buildings that house civilians unless the enemy force is using them to attack friendly units. For a second, he froze. These were the decisions he hated the most, where doing what he considered morally right would result in the death of the men and women under his command. My own death wouldn’t matter, but I won’t risk their lives. “Understood. I’ll authorize the use of rockets on buildings we’re taking fire from, only. Mark your targets and play the music.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Eldred sprayed battle rifle downrange, then ducked next to David to reload. “You sure about that?”
“We have to capture Feldt. The Terran Coalition’s future rests on stopping Orbita. So, God help me, I’ll do whatever it takes, including blow up a building that might have someone’s mother in it,” he replied. What am I becoming? He closed his eyes for a moment. I’ve done this before. I do what must be done and beg God to forgive me afterward.
“Here it comes. Engage concussive wave protocol!” MacDonald’s voice thundered across the commlink.
David figured he’d said that more for the non-tier-one members’ benefit than his men and triggered the sound-deadening system of his helmet. A series of massive explosions rocked the street. Fire, smoke, and a blast wave swept over their position, nearly hurling him to the ground, even in the power-armored suit. It took a few seconds for the smoke to clear and the helmet’s integrated optics to come back online. When it did, he took in the scene before him. It was nothing less than the complete destruction of what had been a built-up street and a series of buildings a minute before.
“Charge! Surge forward, team!” MacDonald shouted as the soldiers of Alpha team rushed out of cover and into the maelstrom on the street. A few defenders were still alive and firing their weapons. The commandos cut them down quickly and efficiently, without hesitation. An eerie silence broke out, interrupted only by the crackling of flames.
Eldred and David stood, walking in the middle of the street with the rest of the team. “You guys blew this place apart.”
MacDonald grunted. “When it absolutely, positively has to be destroyed, call the spacewalkers.”
“If you ain’t space walking, you ain’t shit!” Harrell said through the commlink.
A faint cry attracted David’s attention. He tracked its source into a building that burned brightly and stuck his helmeted head inside. A prone figure was visible a few meters in, and he crossed the distance quickly, finding a woman moaning on the floor. The area was filled with smoke, and while there were no visible flames on the ground floor, it was only a matter of time. He scooped her up and carried her outside. “Master Chief, get your medic over here!”
Mata stepped forward and kneeled next to the casualty as David placed her on the ground. “Human female, mid-fifties. Smoke inhalation and enough shrapnel in her leg to require surgery,” he said as he ran a medical scanner over her unconscious body.
“We don’t have time for this, sir,” MacDonald grumbled through the commlink.
“According to the rules of war, yes we do, Master Chief,” David replied after ensuring they were on a private channel. “Have your medic treat her leg as best we can and call for casualty evac and another squad of Marines.”
“With respect, sir, she’s our enemy. Any delay will give Feldt time to escape. We need to move.”
“We just mowed down a hundred plus hostiles, taking no losses except for banged-up armor. I don’t know if she’s a combatant or a civilian. Regardless, treat her.”
“Aye aye, sir,” MacDonald grated out.
While Mata worked on the woman, David observed. The specialized medical gear the tier-one operators carried quickly stabilized her, and he went to work on the pieces of metal lodged in her leg. After several minutes, he applied a gel substance all over her leg and lightly covered it in bandages. “That’s as good as I can do, Colonel. Would you like me to stay with her until the evac shuttle arrives?”
David pondered the question. Someone should stay, but we can’t afford to split up. The harsh reality of war and the lack of a neat, moral solution to every problem he encountered stared him directly in the face as he glanced between Mata and the woman. “No, Chief. We can’t afford to split up now. Give her an infrared strobe and fall in.” He walked away to the head of the team where MacDonald stood, utilizing a scanning device on the street beyond. The “tower” Feldt lived in was nearby. Its spire jutted above the poorly constructed buildings that surrounded them.
“I remember telling your TAO that combat is different on the ground, sir. It's not quite as clean and antiseptic as a space battle.”
“There’s nothing antiseptic about destroying an enemy ship with six hundred souls onboard without them even having the chance to get in an escape pod, Master Chief,” David stated, staring directly at the older man.
“Too bad for them. They shouldn’t be wearing the League uniform.”
“Master Chief, there are times I wish I could be as detached as you are… and not give a crap.”
MacDonald flashed a grin through his helmet. “There’s a but in there somewhere.”
“It’s who I am. We just killed several hundred people in the last hour. They didn’t have a chance. Most of their weapons aren’t capable of penetrating our armor. There’s a point it begins to feel like murder.”
“With respect, sir,” MacDonald replied as he turned toward David with a harsh look on his face. “Those people made their choices. They engaged in morally reprehensible acts and sided with the League. Their actions and those of the organization they’re in are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people. I’m going to sleep like a baby knowing they’re dead and gone, without the ability to continue harming others.”
David held his tongue, even though his first thought was to argue with the older man. He’s not wrong. I however, can’t get myself in that mindset without something going horribly wrong with my brain. He decided to change the subject. “Is your comms guy okay?”
“Yeah. Bruised ribs. We get those a lot.”
“Get a commlink set up to the Lion of Judah. I need to brief Major Hanson before we blow Feldt’s front door open.”
“Roger that, sir.”
The murmur of voices as enlisted personnel exchanged information and monitored the systems of the ship was like a safety blanket for Hanson as he sat in the CO’s chair. Ruth kept glancing at him but said nothing. He closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them again, she was staring. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“You look keyed up, sir. It's making everyone nervous. You need to project that you’re calm and in control. Even when you’re not,” Ruth said, her voice almost a whisper.
“It’s the empty mental space,” he whispered back.
“Count sheep, then.”
Hanson did a double-take in her direction at the suggestion before laughing softly. “Nice.”
Lieutenant Bell’s voice interrupted their banter. “Conn, communications. I’ve got Alpha Team’s transponder. Colonel Cohen would like to talk to you, sir.”
“By all means,” Hanson replied with a glance toward the comms officer. “Put him on.”
David’s face appeared on the viewer above the CO’s chair. “Major, any changes?”
“No, sir. No sign of hostile activity, nor any reaction from Gilead to our landing.”
“Good to hear. We’re getting ready to assault Feldt’s stronghold. Given the ambush we just encountered and the layout of this place, I doubt we’ll catch him with his pants down. Be ready to engage his ship the moment you sight it, Major. If Gilead control warns you off, ignore them.”
Hanson fought to keep the worry and emotion off his face. “Yes, sir. I understand. Oh, sir, we’ve got a casualty evacuation shuttle, along with more Marines headed down. Do you want us to sweep the entire area?”
“Yes. Offer assistance to anyone we can, then bring them back to the Lion for processing. We’ll sort out who’s a combatant from the innocents later.”
/> “Aye aye, sir.”
“Cohen out.”
As Hanson sat back in his chair, Ruth’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “I think it’s about to get real.”
“Yeah. A bit different from the engineering spaces. It’s real down there too, but it’s different.” She said nothing else, leaving him to his thoughts as he stared out the transparent alloy window that offered a spectacular view of the planet below as they maintain orbit. God, help me to do this right.
24
The building at the center of the town and the tower that sprang from it was deceptively tranquil. It rose ten stories into the sky, which wasn’t much compared to the sights David had seen across the galaxy, but it was still impressive here. It was apparent to him that whoever had designed it hoped to evoke the modern styles of Galt and the rim with harsh lines and much transparent alloy used in its construction. A pair of uniformed gunmen stood guard out front, while the team was stacked on top of MacDonald, staring at a feed from a stealth drone.
“He’s got to have more than two shooters,” Harrell commented.
“I count fifteen plus heat signatures in the lobby,” Rostami interjected. “We’ve thinned the herd quite a bit.”
Eldred crossed her arms in front of her. “The ones left are his private guard. The worst of the worst. They’ll fight the hardest.”
MacDonald turned toward her and grunted. “Thank you for the expert analysis, agent.”
“What’s the plan, Master Chief?” David asked as he suppressed a chuckle from Eldred’s noticeable eye roll.
“You put it pretty succinctly earlier, Colonel. Aside from the wannabe heroes with rocket launchers, these goons lack the firepower to stop us. I’m thinking the time for finesse is over. We hit hard and fast, punch through, then up to the penthouse.”
“One problem with that, boys,” Eldred said as she stuck her helmet between the two men. “It’s not enough to grab Feldt. We need the info Ramirez died for to collect. Collapsing a group like this requires us to cut all the heads off the snake. Follow?”