MILDRATAWA

by Nigel Clayton

  The odd shot of retaliation followed as the lake’s edge drew ever closer. Over the following hours many small groups found themselves under the stress of fighting off the large jaws of the sharks and the odd dolphin proved their worth by aiding in the small pockets of onslaught. But the radio silence still stood.

  Less than 20 kilometres of open water remained to be challenged.

  9:10 AM.

  Maintaining the schedule the first of the hover tanks moved into position just a few kilometres from the sphere’s edge, extended along the edge of the swamp of Grande de Matagalpa. Each platoon was made up of four tanks.

  The force of 100 platoons was an overkill compared to the numbers usually formed in comparison to the amount of ground on which the battle was considered to take place. There was a reason however, for many of these vehicles had specific targets and would render incapable of aiding in the ground advance near the city limits. They would become priceless when it came time for the infantry units to land on the ground in their transporters and debus. By a mass volume of covering fire, a smoke screen would hopefully aid in the footsloggers deployment from the aircraft once they landed, promoting a longer life expectancy for each.

  It was a normal strategic courtesy to surrender four tanks to the aided support of every 100 men, dependent on the varying size of platoons and companies that were considered in direct proportion to the task that confronted the Mildratawa at the time. The present scenario didn’t call for the ground troops to require support during the first phase of the operation due to the method of infiltration.

  No artillery neutron fire support was available to the Mildratawa fighters, and the aircraft for the task ahead were to break off their assaults as soon as the automatic cannons of Nicaragua had been taken out, allowing the transported troops to land. The only possibility for their continual support would be in the case where enemy jet fighters posed a threat towards the advancing transporters that were only ten minutes behind the leading squadrons. The line of approach was almost parallel to that of the hover tanks and would take them along the left flank, flying as low as possible over Punta Coca and on towards Sierra de Amerique.

  El Pasadora’s generals turned their attention quite quickly to the forces of the Mildratawa’s deployment of flesh, bone, and metal, each represented by plastic figures and manoeuvred on a large battle-board to their front. They in turn counteracted this – up and coming assault – by anticipating a move of their own. The only real move possible.

  Many of the six million lives that resided beneath the sphere were workers: - farmers, cooks, repairmen, machine operators, medical assistants, science personnel, and the list goes on. Very few indeed knew anything of fighting. The army itself only consisted of 20,000 troops, due mainly to the automatic defences and impenetrable sphere wall. Many others however could be armed and slung into holes in the ground and directed to defend at all cost. These however, were more than likely to die a quick death – or surrender in the hope of receiving only a small sentence instead of death by hanging for incursions taken against the government of Earth and the Mildratawa.

  Tanks and fighters were a commodity that just didn’t exist within El Pasadora’s forces, but a slower hover ship was available, a disposition his pasha hid well from Carramar Good. These were normally employed in roles of transportation and security tasks of reconnaissance along the sphere interior, a constant search for proof of deep tunnelling under the sphere wall being undertaken.

  From the information gained by the spy on Basbi Triad these hover ships could quickly be refitted to carry armament and troops to any front line of defence considered appropriate towards any coming assault. Now, 10,000 men were being delivered to positions along the suggested line of approach, on the high ground, the mountain range that spanned some 200 kilometres from north-west to south-east.

  9:25 AM.

  The troops of Nicaragua rushed around now, unloading stores from the cargo holds of the hover ships which sized themselves at twenty metres by fifty, and eight in height, a much larger target than the fighters employed by the Mildratawa.

  Machinery was driven from the hulls of the ships and fighting pits dug along an extended front line of defence. The time of assault was unknown and knowledge on how the opposing forces were going to bring down the sphere also remained a puzzle. Small antitank teams marched towards the North of this line to a distance of one kilometre. The destruction of the tanks wasn’t an easy task, but the antitank teams – although vulnerable – would still be in range and view to be provided fire support from the smaller tank busters. Even now these weapons of support laced the firing line and covered the killing area by way of interlocking arcs of fire.

  The antitank teams had adopted a saying, one shot, one kill. This however had never been put into practise and a shot never fired in anticipation for any descriptive attack such as the one that confronted them now. All weapons had been fired at the factory after manufacture for bore alignment of the sights but never on a live firing range. All tank killing teams were accustomed to using simulators – in a class room environment prior to being placed into the ranks constituting normal duties such as the much needed guarding of key installations. All of the citizens lived under a constant reminder that the law in this country was martial. If it could be understood by all, the way in which the weapon functioned, all things would be equal. Although technology had developed self-seeking and locking missiles, the other side had developed anti read me devices. Homing bombs were pointless against a radiation radar complex that could destroy its homing beacon; no matter what the weapon type, no matter how many counter aids you had to enhance its performance, there was always something to counteract it. So simplicity was the key in the aid of any one missile or bomb from being countered, in any type of descriptive form. The limits to further advance in the field of weapon technology had also ceased and resources for the development and manufacture of such were also low. For example, morse code sent via landline could only be counteracted by cutting or mutating the wires which carried its message, whereby radio signal – scrambled or not – could be prevented from reaching the station to which it’d been sent, or completely cut to shreds via different means of a variety of counter frequencies. Morse code could also be sent via light and encrypted code was more than possible.

  The atmosphere grew in tension as more workers busied themselves with the fortification of the line. A further five kilometres back from this point lay another 6,000 troops whom didn’t even contemplate firing a shot as they believed the opposing forces wouldn’t be capable of advancing this far after the first onslaught to their front. These troops could be employed at a moment’s notice to reinforce any part of the first line of defence, or simply wait for any coming attack. The last of the 4,000 troops were strung out around the key installations of the city itself.

  The defence stood firm and odds for a Nicaraguan victory were better than average.

  9:35 AM.

  Skimmer throttles were eased off and the small vessels allowed to sink to the sandy floor in the shallows 20 metres from a tiny stretch of beach. 22 men combined from the first two teams rushed over the open ground and came to rest in the brush.

  “Sir, over there, a stormwater drain.” He pointed to a dry tunnel entrance off to the right.

  “Go and check it out with the scanner.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Doug witnessed for the first time the reality to the pounding that the first two teams had taken from the sharks. Over to his left only ten men remained. He sent a messenger over to signal the commander of that group to join him. As he arrived, the man with the scanner returned. “The tunnel sir, straight as a die and extends for an estimated four kilometres. That’s just inside the city and falls to within a kilometre of our destination.”

  “What’s its size?”

  “Large enough for a standing jog; two men abreast.”

  Doug turned to the other commander as three more groups rallied around, all wandering why the mo
ve forward had come to a stop. It was apparent now that great losses had been taken. Each team had lost an average of seven men with one team in particular being completely wiped from existence. It must have taken a lot of heart not to have broken radio silence.

  “You and your men will remain here, commander, whilst the remainder of us takes to the tunnel. As the other groups arrive from the lake, send them through.” Brother Anthony was still panting from the short run across the thin width of beach. Exercise of the body was not a priority with him in his field of work. His heart held out but was apparently shocked by the change of slow meditation to a sprint over just a few yards of soft sand. His hand still held tight to his chest as he slowed to a heavy breathing. “You’ll be alright here, brother, I have to go now, but thank you; for everything.” Anthony peered up with wide eyes, unable to say anything between the breaths, he gave a slight nod and Doug was gone.

  There was no time for proper orders; the small stretch of beach wasn’t safe enough. A signal was passed as more men emerged from the waters of the lake and the move off through the drain was undertaken. Common sense took place over precedence as the tunnel was entered. The men knew little at this stage on the distance of the concealed route but put great trust behind the decision of the man that led them.

  Within 20 minutes, 99 men were running a slow pace up the tunnel that was illuminated by the small torches that individuals carried, removing weapons from plastic waterproofing as they moved. Explosives remained sealed in small backpacks.

  Back on the beach ten men lay calmly in the brush with Anthony, the commander at the centre. As his breath steadied so did his efforts to seek the minds of his sea-bound friends. They would accept him sooner this time around as they were more aware of their nearby friend. He soon learnt of the few losses and warned them back to the open waters of the Pacific.

  91 divers had given their lives and now lay under the surface of the lake, fish swimming up to the bodies every now and then, testing the flesh. Swimming off now, they’d return in a few days, once the morsels had been tenderised by the natural act of the water.

  10:20 AM.

  Doug was the third man to exit the tunnel. He pushed the men on a further 100 metres before crouching down for a brief look at the bearing he’d been given by the man to his rear. Normally the hand-held Portable Satellite Navigation Station could be employed in determining their position, though in this case the sphere somehow prevented such from being employed. Even the signals from satellites couldn’t penetrate the shield.

  The concrete sides of the drain rose ten metres on both sides and the dry concrete surface of the old storm waterway to Doug’s immediate front gave to a slight turn to the right, away from the bearing attained by map. It was time to exit the cover that had served their purpose to great lengths. Looking to his rear he saw the last of his fighting force come out into the open and alternatively cover out and up the steep 45-degree slopes of the drain.

  He raced back towards the centre of the group, passing out a hand signal for all commanders to rally to his orders. It took a little time, but once all had exit the tunnel, orders could be passed. Only three original leaders approached, the others comprised of those whom were second in command or the most senior man at the time.

  The operation from this point would continue as planned with the squads moving in column, maintaining their group formations and taking to a leapfrog method of movement. The forward most group would cover the rear team’s move forward and observe the area to their fronts for the purpose of laying down suppressing fire onto any enemy force that was encountered.

  A civilian population was expected and these were to be ignored, for killing unarmed personnel wasn’t their just way of bringing about the destruction of El Pasadora or the shield wall. It was clearly understood however, that it would only be a matter of time before one of the citizens became a reliable source of information to the enemy.

  Doug wasn’t aware at this point in time that the assault had been known about and all civilians had been ordered to remain inside of doors and in air raid shelters of some description. Underground storage bins were used primarily for this purpose, as no other structure had been thought necessary at the time of the building of the new city.

  The move was now instigated, as the first group rushed up the left side of the long concrete stormwater vein.

  10:25 AM.

  Only a short distance was covered when the forward most group let go with angry bursts of covering fire. A few hundred metres to their front lay a couple of Nicaraguan gun emplacements. Several enemies fell during these first few seconds. The two groups running up the centre of the man-made protective tunnel of security formed by the move suddenly took to the ground for aid in cover and to find firing positions.

  The heavy enemy machine guns spat back in retaliation, splintering into cones of fire that brought about the death of five slow reacting men. The firing positions of the enemy forces were quickly passed down the column by way of a target indication.

  Low set shacks in the deserted market place, which they were presently moving through, was just 900 metres short of the power plant and offered little protection from the bolts of light that now fell around them. Team number three took heavy casualties as they crawled into the best cover possible and set about to return fire. Orders were then given over the now open radio communications for teams four through to nine to form an extended line for immediate assault of the gun emplacements. The remaining teams had soon formed the second line of advance and would remain in depth, taking care to cover the flanks and rear from any unforeseen enemy approach.

  Group leaders took command and the gradual advance upon the emplacements was undertaken. Each man paired off with another and moved alternatively as best that they could. Long-range grenade pods were fired along with smoke canisters, but seemed to have little effect.

  The enemy gunners grinned as the metal structures that surrounded them gave good protection. Another burst of fire came from their double barrel heavy guns as Doug directed a team of two to ready the armour piercing laser splintex shot and to take aim for the silencing of the enemy weapons.

  The two-man team prepared the weapon and knelt up to take a shot when a laser bolt struck hard and killed them both. The armour splintex round ignited and let rip with a hundred death defying pulses of light, which unfortunately sought out the bodies of seven friendlies; subsequently, exploded muscle and tissue was thrown in all directions, into the men and burning shacks around.

  A quick thinking, second team, fired home their round, bringing the first of the two structures to a cindering mass of smoke and flame. An open opportunity was then taken as a team of nine thrust forward across a 50-metre clearing, only losing four lives to the other enemy gun. Once positioned they placed down an accurate fire of grenade pods that travelled their trajectory to within the rear of the structure. It silenced the gun on impact. Due to the enemy’s eagerness to get shots down range they’d forgotten to seal the rear entrance. The rear doors had swung open precariously, allowing the laser blast to embed deep into the backs of the enemy gunners.

  Doug pushed the depth line of troops forward, in order that they should now take the lead. 32 made the dash, passing the forged line of firers and across the small clearing. Enemy guns then opened up from either flank. The enemy’s cunning had forced them to wait for the possibility of a larger body count. Both of the new emplacements sat 200 metres in either direction, too far to become concerned about. A further 16 of Doug’s men were taken out of action, three of which were screaming in agony from lost limbs and cauterised wounds. Another had a sucking chest wound; a small entry wound with a gaping hole in the middle of his back. He was shot in the name of mercy, for there was certainly no time to carry out first aid on a broken man.

  Time was now running far too short. Ground was important and had to be covered before any enemy reinforcements showed up. “Groups five and eight, on my command I want you to throw smoke canisters across the cleari
ng. Once a screen has been formed the enemy will no doubt place crossing – rapid fire – along the front of the clearing to prevent us from moving across. Once there’s a break in their firing, and on my command, we’ll rush across the ground as a group.” ‘Send my soul to hell if this doesn’t work.’ “Smoke canisters— Throw!” Doug then looked to a group behind him, an envelope of smoke around their present position also being organised.

  A hundred bolts of light crossed the clearing to their front, enemy gunners filling the smoke screen with a heavy concentration of fire. Suddenly the scene met with Doug’s expectation and the firing commenced to subside to sporadic bursts of uncontrolled fire. His lips were sealed as he thrust his arm up and forward. The remainder of the force of 200 now rush across the killing ground, bolts of light crossing their path without remorse. Only five men were halted in their steps as the teams pushed on past the two previously silenced gun emplacements and up a large tree-lined road, leaving the interlocking arcs of the laser far behind.

  Buildings rose in varying heights from three storeys to well over a hundred.

  They continued to run for another four hundred metres unopposed. The power complex came into sight and as expected more gun emplacements. These were manned and ready. The enemy ambush was initiated but too late, for the advancing 50 men took to cover.

  Doug dictated that two five-man teams take to the buildings on either side of the road that offered a little protection. They scrambled away and took to the buildings’ third floors. Firing points were found near windows that over looked the enemy and they commenced to bombard – with grenade pods – the emplacements across to the far side of the T-junction.

  The situation was feeble. No possible assault across the road would be successful. A man crawled up behind Doug, his communications nipped by a laser and put out of commission, and pulled at his leg. “Sir, I’ve got the plan. I know what to do.”