Gods of War (Jethro goes to war Book 5)

by Chris Hechtl

  “They are requesting we check it out.”

  “I'm going,” Al said firmly. “That's my godson and friends over there.” He went and got a rifle and started to load it. His wife protested, and the Marines eyed him warily. A few people looked on with concern, but others stepped up with offers to help.

  The sergeant turned to the side. “HQ this is Winchester One Nine again, we've got a growing situation here. It seems a posse is forming to go help the Smith farm. Anything we can do to expedite the situation would be good,” she said.

  “Winchester One Nine, this is GM. We read you. Eyes and teeth are inbound as we speak,” the RTO replied.

  “Roger that GM,” Jasmine said as she saw the locals gear up and head to the local barn. “I don't think we're going to wait for an all clear before we move in though,” she said as she pointed to a fire team and then made a circle motion to roundup and head out. “Wake the relief; get them to cover for us. We're going on a road trip it seems,” she said to Corporal Red Claw.

  The Neocat nodded.

  <)>^<)>/

  “Gretchen, I've got to do something,” Kevin murmured urgently. “Mom, dad …”

  “They are …”

  “Clarissa, Alvin, Ronald …,” they could hear screams and sobs from within the house along with the occasional hard bang and smash of something breakable.

  “Pa had the only gun ….” She weakly indicated the rifle near their fallen father.

  “I've got my hunting rifle. I left it by the spring shed since we went trapping in the hills yesterday. Pa wanted me to clean it, but I sorta forgot, you know, with all the skinning we had to do. There are knives and a hatchet there too,” he said grimly.

  “Go get ‘em. They aren't going to stop till they kill us all,” Gretchen said urgently as she watched the Horathians torment one of the hands. The woman tried to run, but she was shot in the back. The bastard who shot her shouldered his rifle, then turned to the others.

  “On second thought, I'll come with you,” she said. Kevin looked at her and then nodded.

  <)>^<)>/

  Lieutenant Lishman's troops methodically slaughtered the hired hands as they tried to run into the fields or to the road. Vincent motioned Sergeant Adkins and Corporal Fornell and then to the area. “Check the area. I don't want any more surprises. Run them down. We can't let any of them get away and let the Marines know. They'll be after us soon enough,” he snarled to his troops. He eyed Jean Claude. “But we save this one for last,” he said, pointing to the injured man.

  <)>^<)>/

  Sergeant Adkins grinned evilly as he saw the girl backing away from the spring shed. He elbowed his partner. “Looks like we've got some nice sweets to taste. Once we get that hatchet away from her, I've got dibs,” he said just as a boy with a weapon backed around the corner too.

  “Frack!” the sergeant muttered, raising his rifle as the boy turned and fired.

  <)>^<)>/

  Kevin and Gretchen were surprised by the two raiders as they rounded the building with their back to them. Gretchen's gasp alerted her brother. He swung about and shot Sergeant Adkins but was in turn shot by Corporal Fornell.

  “No!” Gretchen screamed as she threw her hatchet. The hatchet spun end over end to bury itself into the corporal's chest. The man dropped his rifle and then slumped forward, hands going to the weapon buried in his chest. He gurgled in shock, spitting blood.

  Gretchen came over and kicked him onto his back. She picked up his rifle and pointed it at him. His eyes widened in recognition. “Gretchen? It's Mike …,” he coughed. “Mike Fornell,” he said weakly.

  She reached down and yanked the hatchet out of his chest. Blood spurted out. Mike screamed weakly and then died. “I don't know you,” she growled as she turned back to make sure the other guy was dead. She checked on Kevin, but his eyes were glassy. There was a hole in his chest right where his heart was.

  She bit her lip and whimpered slightly. Finally, she realized she had to act. She gathered up the weapons and ammunition and then went into the woods. She would circle around and shoot them from the wood line, then lead them on a chase. Hopefully, that would let the others get away she thought.

  <)>^<)>/

  “What the hell is going on there?” Lieutenant Lishman demanded as he heard more gunshots. “You, go find out,” he said, pointing to a private. The kid nodded once and then scampered off.

  Wade grabbed an ankle and tripped the lieutenant. The guy went down kicking. He spat blood and spittle as he rose onto his elbows. “So, that's how you want to play it?” he snarled as he pulled out his pistol. Wade continued to grip his ankle. “Fine then,” he said as he shot Wade again, this time in the left eye, killing him.

  “That by process of elimination means you are Debois. I'm supposed to take you alive if I can. Looks like you won't make it though,” the lieutenant said as he spat muck and then wiped it off his face and hands.

  A private came out of the house carrying a load of valuables. He stopped and stared at the lieutenant on the ground. Just as he did, another private came tearing around the chicken coup. He pointed urgently back the way he'd come. “Boss, I mean, Lieutenant, someone killed the Serge and corporal! By the spring shed!” he said.

  “What the …?” Vincent snarled and looked around as he got to his feet. He kicked the body next to him a few times. He heard a couple shots go off. “Frack this! Torch the house. We need to go,” he said waving to the others.

  <)>^<)>/

  Clarissa heard the men doing something, but she was too scared to look under the door jam. When she heard the crackle of fire and then the screams of the other kids, she whimpered, hugging her stuffed animal. But then she felt heat under her and smoke started to come up from the floor boards. She coughed and then tried to get out of the closet.

  <)>^<)>/

  Jean Claude stared in horror as the Horathians torched the house with Kadir's wife, kids, and the Smith kids trapped inside. He couldn't help but hear their screams of terror from inside the burning building. Lieutenant Lishman's eyes gleamed just as the sound of engines in the air made them all turn and look up. “Take cover!” he snarled, motioning his people to get out of the clearing. He turned to point his rifle at Jean Claude.

  <)>^<)>/

  The Marines had dispatched an armed drone in to see what was going on at the farm. The drone noted the man down and another standing over him with a weapon. The drone operator signaled assent, and the drone acted. It fired a shot as the man with the weapon turned to run.

  The shot split the tango in half. The drone turned and went after other prey.

  It took small arms fire from the left side so its priorities shifted to take out the shooters first. It turned and cut down the last Horathian survivors as they tried to shoot the drone down. He spiraled out in time to see a rider with a train of animals coming to the farm. The guy took one look at the drone and turned to spur his mount hell for leather back the way he'd come. A single strafing round was all it took to stop him permanently.

  “Dispatch a squad with a medic to clean up the mess,” the operator said.

  “Already done,” Lieutenant Eros said as the drone moved into orbit over the farm. The operator grunted when he noted the two LAVs and a group of vehicles tearing up the road to the farm.

  “Better late than never I suppose,” he muttered as he switched to another drone's feed.

  <)>^<)>/

  The first LAV stopped short and a pair of Marines got off, jumped the ditch and then climbed over the fence into the pasture where the panicked horses were rushing about.

  “Where are they going?” Al demanded as the second LAV passed the first and then the first peeled out after it. He wasn't the only one horrified by the burning inferno off to their right. He could practically feel the heat from the road as they got closer.

  “Who knows? Just stay clear of them,” Serena urged. Al grunted. He checked over his shoulder to see Isabel, Tessa, Boyd, and Mort were there in the back. They were
all staring grimly at the burning farm and tower of smoke. “How did you lot …?” he shook his head as his wife jabbed him.

  “Pay attention to the road!” she snarled as the Marine vehicles went into the driveway.

  The posse arrived behind them a few second later.

  A Marine motioned them to stop and stay with their vehicles. Other Marines were out of their vehicles and had gone in on foot. A fire team circled around the barns to be sure the area was secure.

  “Jon!” Serena said. Before anyone could stop her she rushed in to him. She laid a hand on him, then his fallen wife. She looked up with tears. That seemed to kick everyone else loose. Despite the Marines, they moved in to do what they could.

  Gretchen was nearby, standing there by the carriage barn. She couldn't do anything; the house was an inferno despite the Marine who had gone charging in but then had come back out swearing. She had felt someone disarm her but then move on. She didn't care.

  Tessa ran to the house, but a flare of heat and flame made her cringe back. “Is there anyone in there?” she demanded, turning to Gretchen. She saw the girl's face and realized there had to be. “We've got to get this fire out!” she screamed, moving to the hand pump.

  The posse moved in and formed a bucket brigade to try to get the fire under control and keep it from spreading to the neighboring buildings and fields. A few people got the panicking animals under control and moved them away from the fire.

  Gretchen stood there watching her home, her whole world burn. She glanced at her parents and brother then went back to staring at the burning farmhouse. Isabel came over to her and pulled her away.

  <)>^<)>/

  Corporal Red Claw had been one of the Marines who had been dropped off to cut through the pastures and fields to attack from the backside of the farm. She stopped when she saw an injured Neocat curled in a fetal position. She'd been shot; it looked like in the back. It had been a grazing shot that must have severed her spine given the look of bone sticking out of the wound. She knelt and checked for a pulse. It was weak, barely there. “I've got a live one here!” she called out.

  “Another over here!” a private called out. “Barely!” he added as a qualifier.

  <)>^<)>/

  Once the scene was secure, the corpsman moved in fast. The medic did a fast check of on-scene triage. He'd already done it from thermal profiles and sensor profiles of the fallen, but it paid to be certain. Unfortunately, many of the civilians who were injured were dead. He didn't bother with the enemy fighters; his priority was on friendlies first and foremost.

  The girl standing nearby was okay. She was mobile and upset, but none of the blood spatter on her was hers. He turned to one of the fallen men who had one hand over a wound. The other arm was splinted.

  “What's your name?” Elliot asked as he knelt. “I'm Elliot, I'll be your corpsman for the day,” he quipped.

  “A mortician?” the guy asked weakly.

  “No, Navy corpsman. Medic,” Elliot explained as he worked. He scanned the guy's body. There were some contusions and other minor problems, but the main thing was the gunshot wound. It was through and through so the one hand wasn't doing enough to stem the blood loss.

  “Let me see that,” he said as he checked. He grimaced when blood spurted. “We've got a bleeder here!” he called out as he pulled out a set of hemostats from his kit. He unwrapped them and then used them to get in and clamp the bleeder. “Not good. We need to get you to a hospital. You are losing blood, and this internal organ damage is bad.”

  He looked up to the guy. “What's your name?”

  “For what, my tombstone?”

  “Cute.”

  “It's Jean. Jean Claude.”

  “Claude is your last name?”

  “No,” Jean Claude coughed. Blood came out onto his fist. He tried to lay back, but the medic made him sit up so he could treat the exit wound. He clamped something, sprayed it with something hot that then made the area feel numb, then put a pressure bandage on it before he leaned Jean Claude back into a more comfortable position.

  “So …”

  “Jean Claude Debois,” he said.

  “Any relation to the guy everyone's been talking about? The one on the radio?” Elliot asked as his hands flashed to set up an IV. He did the stick quick and sure, then taped the port down so it wouldn't move. He then plugged the bag of plasma in. He massaged the bag a few times, then had a Marine hold it for the moment.

  “Yeah, that's me,” Jean Claude said weakly.

  Elliot frowned, then looked up to the Marine. Alley just shrugged slightly. He turned and looked over to his shoulder to let the corporal know, but he was busy with a knot of civilians at the water pump.

  “Tell Colonel Harley I'm sorry I screwed up and missed our meeting,” Jean Claude said weakly. He laid his head back and closed his eyes in pain.

  The medic looked up and let the sergeant know. The sergeant came over, heard the recording from the medic, and then called his lieutenant. The lieutenant bucked it up the chain of command.

  “I've got to go. I'll be back to check on you in a moment,” Elliot said as he rose.

  “I'm not going anywhere,” Jean Claude said weakly. He smiled weakly in thanks to a fellow native as she came and took the IV from the Marine so she could get back to work.

  Elliot noted the bodies and scene was being documented and a small group was at work policing the bodies. He nodded once, then made his rounds to check the other wounded.

  Within minutes they had a call from an INTEL major. The sergeant was busy so he put it through to Elliot.

  “Trust me, Major; this is one person we need to get help for. He's a community leader,” the medic said. “He's that Debois guy everyone's been talking about.”

  “Roger that. Wait one.”

  There was a brief pause. “We're sending a shuttle. Get an LZ prepped. ETA twenty minutes.”

  “Better hurry. We've got a lot of people who are down,” Elliot said, looking around. “I've got him and six others. Two with smoke inhalation. The squad is finding more,” he said as a Marine waved urgently to indicate he found another person.

  “Understood. Do what you can to stabilize them,” the major said.

  “That's what I'm trying to do,” the Corpsman growled as he motioned for everyone to leave him alone so he could get to work saving those he could.

  <)>^<)>/

  When Al shook his head and then sat down heavily, hands covering his soot-covered face, Isabel knew the worst was true. Gretchen was the only survivor of her family. She rubbed the girl's shoulders and hugged her as the girl's soft crying started to ebb. Finally, it slacked off as the girl got control of herself.

  “There is nothing here for me,” she said quietly as Isabel and Serena tried to comfort her and a distraught Al. She turned to the sergeant. “We couldn't stop them. We tried,” Her lost eyes searched the sergeant's, making the Marine look away in discomfort and self-loathing for not being able to stop it. “It wasn't enough.” She shook her head.

  “I know. You still did good,” the sergeant said quietly.

  “They were trained troops,” Isabel said, rubbing Gretchen's shoulders. “They were armed. You couldn't resist them, honey,” she said quietly. “It's not your job.”

  Gretchen shook her head. “I know that. But … this has to be stopped. So, maybe it should be.” She looked up to the sergeant. “Tell me, what does it take to become a Marine?”

  <)>^<)>/

  Marines on the perimeter of the partially rebuilt spaceport didn't even bother to look up as another shuttle came in to land. This one was not from orbit, however; it came in from Fallbrook. It landed and debarked some passengers including a sooty Gretchen. The load master pointed her over to an office that the Marines had set up to handle recruits and then went to oversee the bird's refueling.

  Gretchen looked around her and then showed a Marine Neochimp who came over to her that she had a pass on a lanyard. “I'm supposed to go to the recruiting office,
” she said with quiet dignity.

  “Over there, ma'am. You don't have any clothes?” the MP asked. She shook her head. He sized her up and then nodded. She could tell she looked like shit. She smelled it too. “Good luck, ma'am,” he said.

  “Thanks,” she murmured as she walked off.

  She had heard about the spaceport but had never been there or the capital city. In fact, she had never been to any city, so she was at a loss as to what she was seeing and what it had once been. She did note big green and yellow machines toiling to fill in the holes while groups worked at tearing through the wreckage of fallen buildings. Here and there she could see temporary buildings had been set up.

  There was a growing line of gunships and drones too. She appreciated the sight of those aircraft as well as the work crews doing maintenance on them.

  There was a market too; she noted it as she went through another checkpoint and then went to the recruiting office. To her surprise there was also a line.

  “Step up here. We're going to do a quick and dirty eval here. That's evaluation. Some of you have gone through something along those lines before so be patient,” a Marine said. “We need to get you in-processed so we can ship you up to the ships that are going to be returning to Pyrax soon,” the Marine said.

  Gretchen nodded as she took a number and then waited.

  <)>^<)>/

  Private Pvesk shook his head as he looked over to a familiar Neochimp. “Something on your mind, Jack?”

  “That kid. She's been through hell,” the Neochimp said. “And she's signing up.”

  “Damn,” the guy said turning to look at the retreating girl. “She a looker?”

  “Not my species. She might clean up nice but don't get any ideas. I saw some hell in her eyes. From the look of it, the kid's recently lost everything and wants some payback.”

  “Right,” Dolph said, making a mental note by the girl's image and a jailbait warning tag. “Gotcha. No Marine comfort for her.”

  “Definitely not.” Jack looked out at the group near the market. The market had started up with people coming to get help or with offers to trade. Most had been desperate for work. The powers that be had put some of them to work around the spaceport. That made certain they earned their keep. Others had set up something of a market along the road between the spaceport and the capital city nearby.