by Chris Hechtl
“We can't see it,” Tray said, looking around.
“Pull back. Time for Step 2 folks,” Gunny Brillo ordered.
“We're retreating?” Tray demanded.
“We follow the plan,” the gunny snarled as he physically shoved the suit into motion.
<)>^<)>/
“We've got a malfunction in the Reaper, ma'am. She can't get a lock. Something addled its electronics,” the dispirited controller said.
“Shit. Well, at least we got some of them. Have it orbit and keep them in sight until we can get another unit there. Time to the nearest gunship?”
“Twenty minutes, ma'am.”
<)>^<)>/
Gunny Brillo looked up and gave a one-finger salute to the sky as he waved his troops on out of the burning town. A few laughed and echoed his sentiment. They were deliberately letting the enemy get a sniff of the direction they were retreating.
<)>^<)>/
Lieutenant Queen saw the one finger salutes and snarled. “Son of a …,” she shook her head and cut herself off. “Cheeky bastards, aren't they?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Hopefully that gunship will teach them the errors of their ways,” she said.
“Yes, ma'am. Here's hoping,” the controller murmured. He didn't sound all too confident however.
<)>^<)>/
Gunny Brillo got his people into the deep wood and then spread them out. “Anyone too slow gets shot and left behind so move it. Anyone who shirks someone hurt will get their ass chewed by me. I'm hungry since I didn't eat breakfast so don't tempt me,” he snarled.
That got Trig and Tray to take on some of the excess weight off two of their wounded fellows to ease their burden. Or, if one looked at it from their perspective, they were merely taking on their ammunition since the injured most likely wouldn't need it.
“Gunship inbound,” the point said from top of the hill.
“In the creek. Spread out. Shut down and pull your batteries. We'll wait them out,” the gunny ordered.
“Frack,” Trig murmured as he laid down and then opened his top. He pulled his battery as the rain came down in spits. It wasn't bad under the tree cover, but that wasn't his main concern. Pulling the battery in his suit meant he was practically deaf, dumb, blind, and helpless while an aerial hunter stalked them.
Gunny Brillo checked the thermal scan before he laid down and pulled his own battery. The creek was rapidly dissipating the heat from their suits. Within a few minutes, they'd be ambient temperature. With the cover overhead, they'd be hard to spot with conventional sources. That left the thermal images from the users.
“Back in your suits. Button up but keep the batteries out. We're going dark,” he ordered.
“Like a coffin. Cool,” Tray murmured as he closed the latch.
<)>^<)>/
Wolf 2 snarled as he lost lock on the column of retreating forces. “I don't know where they went, ma'am. They just disappeared.”
“Jamming?” Major R'nz demanded.
“It's not active. Camouflage most likely or they pulled the batteries,” Lieutenant Queen replied.
“Wait one … how the hell did they get up there?” the pilot of Wolf 2 said. “Ma'am, we're getting ghost readings of at least a squad further ahead.”
“They are dispersing,” Major R'nz said. “Go after the largest group and head them off Wolf 2.”
“Aye aye, sir. Be advised we've got fifteen minutes before we're bingo fuel. We used a lot getting here in a hurry.”
“Understood,” the Veraxin major replied.
<)>^<)>/
Sergeant Don Jensen saw the incoming bird and ordered his people to go dark as well. Unlike the gunny, his people had lead coated paper to wrap their batteries in and hadn't been in too much combat so they had a lower IR profile. By the time the bird was overhead, they were dark.
They waited as the gunship passed overhead and then went into a bank. They could imagine the bird's impotent scream, more from her engines than anything else, but given the frustration of the pilots that was questionable. The bird didn't dare drop into a hover; she'd be too much of a tempting target. A half hour later they took a chance and suited up and moved out again.
<)>^<)>/
Four hours later the Marines got a report from the sniper team. The team had sustained minor injuries but had stayed on mission. They'd gotten high on a ridge, then looked down to pick up the suits again. An Eyes drone had picked up the suits from there and kept them under intermittent surveillance while the gunship and other assets returned to fuel or moved into the area.
“It looks like they are headed in the direction of Fallbrook and Bixby, ma'am,” Major Zedeal said, projecting a map with the trajectory of the units sketched on it. “That area is heavily wooded with a lot of animals to screw up our IR. The good news is it is wooded and it is hills and dales to make them use up a lot of their power.”
“Unless they've planned for that and have reserve caches of power packs and ammunition along their route of retreat,” Captain Dernigz warned.
Dana grimaced. “We need to stop them. Keep tabs on them until we can get units in range.”
“Yes, ma'am. Ma'am, in the terrain they are in, the gunships won't be able to get in to guarantee a kill. And Harambe's people will get chewed up and spat out.”
“Warn him off. As far as the gunships are concerned, keep them near but out of range. We don't know if they've got anything to hit back with. We'll need to drop our people into a choke point they'll have to pass through,” Dana said, pointing to a series of ravines on the map. “Figure out which is the most likely and get our people moving.”
“Yes, ma'am,” the Veraxin major replied.
<)>^<)>/
Bordou looked at Harambe as he replayed the warning. The Neogorilla sat there for a long moment, nostrils dilating. Finally, he blew out a heavy breath, then waved a hand to shoo away some pesky flies from his face. “I agree. We keep tabs on them if they come our way. No one goes after them. We don't have the weapons for it.”
The Neocollie flicked his ears. “Understood.”
Chapter 53
The following morning Dana saw the damage. It was one thing to see it in SIMS, quite another to be physically present and know there was no reset button. She closed her eyes in pain for a long moment as she sucked it in. Finally, she pried her eyes open and forced herself to deal with it. Her training took over; she had to lead and avoid combat lock. “No plan survives contact with the enemy indeed. So much for a cakewalk,” she growled bitterly with a shake of her head.
“Yes, ma'am. They aren't going to be pushovers. I think Captain Lewis had it easy,” Major Zedeal said with a shake of his head. He too was bitter over their losses. And like his boss he too blamed himself for being inadequate and not up to the challenge. All the planning and training didn't prepare him for something like what they were going through. It was one thing to lose to Major Valenko, but this … this was far worse. He knew the bastards were laughing about it. Valenko's boys and girls never let it get that personal he knew.
“Definitely,” Dana said in agreement. “Lady Luck was certainly smiling down on him!”
“Yes. Now if she could just send some of those blessings our way …,” the major growled.
“Don't tempt fate … or Murphy to intervene any more than he already has, Blake,” Dana growled sourly, eying him.
“Sorry, Ma'am.” the major paused and then grimaced. “So, what do we do now?”
“Do we know where they are going?”
“As it happens, yes, ma'am. We've still got them under surveillance. They are moving fast southwest. They are headed to the mountains. They'll be passing through a narrow, heavily wooded defile in four hours,” the major reported. “They'll have to either go around or hit it single file at some point so we can strafe them or bomb them out.”
“If they get beyond there though, we'll lose them,” the colonel said as she checked the map. “Order our fast reaction team into action. I
want them to plug that gap so there is no way forward. Then we hit them hard from the air. Kick their ass; you and Lieutenant Liu can take names after the smoke clears. It won't make up for our losses, but it will help prevent this from happening again.” She didn't sound too convinced about that last part she knew.
The major nodded anyway as he issued the orders. “Yes, ma'am.”
<)>^<)>/
Gunny Brillo shook his head as his troops continued along their assigned path. They'd regrouped, and unknown to the enemy, they'd swapped their near-dead batteries for fresh ones. They'd left the old ones, their dead, and their captured gear in a series of caches they'd prepared ahead of time.
They'd stripped their dead of weapons and ammo. It wasn't like they'd need them. He'd started with two partial-strength squads; he was down to nine effectives including himself. He'd lost four and had two walking wounded. He glanced at his wounded. They were keeping up, which was good for them. The damage on Edinger's arm looked like it was just in the armor. Good. He'd miss the spic bitch Mendes though. She'd been good troop despite her temper.
He wasn't so certain about missing the stupid prick Simon. Somehow he'd have to let Dom knew when the op was over. He was already planning on giving the squad back to Ung and getting her back her rocker when they got back to base.
He checked his map on his HUD and grunted. He was now in range of Jensen's heavy weapons squad as planned. Things were looking up he thought as he scanned the sky. He noted a few specks that weren't the right shape for birds. His eyes narrowed.
Undoubtedly, the Marines had a surveillance drone or two following them. He was amused by that.
The Marines didn't know it yet, but they were doing exactly what he wanted them to do.
<)>^<)>/
Captain Zhukov nodded as he watched the plot. His people were moving in a general direction his way … but also seemingly leading the enemy off on a wild goose chase to Fallbrook. Fallbrook's time would come, as would Bixby's, but not today he thought.
“You'd think they would have learned by now not to send good money after bad,” Mackie said as the rest of the platoon gathered to watch the map. “I mean, we've taught them often enough you'd think the burnt hand and all would have learned ‘em by now.”
“You'd be surprised. It is drilled into officers to go after a retreating enemy and route them. To drive them into the ground so they can't regroup and come back later,” the captain said absently. “It's a lesson trained in martial arts though that when an opponent is so intent on offense, he leaves himself open and forgets defense.”
“The thing that gets me is how vulnerable the shuttles are. All their eggs in one basket. I'll never take flying the same way again,” Lieutenant Robinson murmured. The captain turned to look at the woman. She had her arms crossed in front of her.
If she ever does was left unsaid.
“Let's see how many more easy pickings we can get before this lesson is learned,” the captain said.
<)>^<)>/
“Stay cool. Stay frosty,” Don murmured to his people as he gripped the power pack. It was covered, wrapped in lead painted paper. Supposedly it wasn't detectable up close. They were going to find out soon enough. “Plug in the moment that thing goes into a hover,” he growled.
The men and women near him nodded.
<)>^<)>/
“By the numbers, people. We're being dropped off ahead of them. ONI has taken apart their armor; their sensors stink. They are half the range ours are and not as sensitive. So, we're going to do a hot drop to the ground,” Sergeant AJ Petrovich said as she checked her gear one last time.
“We taking prisoners, Serge?” Private Ishmael Sin asked.
“Let's see if we can get this done first,” the sergeant replied. “We know they have a limited power budget, so they are conserving their power to get to this point. They expended a lot in the earlier battle. How much we don't know. This isn't about revenge,” she said, surveying the group. “It's about making sure the bastards don't get to do this again.”
“Hell, boss lady, I'm all for some payback,” Ismael said as he hefted his plasma gun.
“If that is what floats your boat, fine. But keep frosty,” the sergeant said as the load master tapped her shoulder pauldron and then pointed to the door. They could feel the shuttle slowing and changing from a forward motion to a more or less vertical one.
“Ramp down!” the load master said, pushing the button to drop the ramp. They got a taste of the wind, which made the last of the group button up. Then the light turned green. The Marines filed to the ramp and then took the ramp at a run. At the end, they jumped off to the ground three meters below.
Their servos easily absorbed the impact. As they rose, they moved out into a circle perimeter and began to scan the area. It didn't take long for them to find trouble.
Or, some would say, trouble was waiting for them.
<)>^<)>/
“We should have hit the shuttle first. Got them in one shot,” PFC Fastback grumbled softly. His sergeant shot him a dirty look so he grimaced.
“Just sayin,” he muttered as Sergeant Don Jensen looked away and hand-signed the heavy weapons to be ready. He counted down from five with his fingers.
<)>^<)>/
“We've got movement on two fronts! Sound …,” Ishmael said just as the last suit jumped into the center of their circle.
“All bodies clear!” the loadmaster said, looking out over the edge of the shuttle as it started to pull up. The ramp started to close.
“ … should have hit the shuttle first. Got them in one shot,” a male voice said. “Just sayin,” Sergeant Petrovich heard over her microphone.
“It's a trap!” she said as her head came up sharply. “Cover!” she snarled just as blue, purple, and white horizontal lightning tore her suit apart.
<)>^<)>/
“Pull up fast! The Marines are getting toasted!” the loadmaster said from her view out of the corner of the ramp. She could see plasma fire coming in from at least two directions. Then a couple shots came at them just as the door closed and latched.
She didn't have time to feel relief as she was slammed against the side of the shuttle, then thrown against the ramp door as the shuttle screamed for altitude.
“Clean sweep!” Sergeant Jensen said with a nod. “That's the way it should be,” he said.
“But the damn shuttle got away,” Marco “Mad Dog” Mafiss complained as he shouldered his still steaming plasma rifle. The heavy weapons PFC looked peeved as he opened his helmet.
“That's the downside of having a plasma gun. The range sucks,” PFC Fastback said as he started to pick through the smoking corpses for loot.
“Don't worry,” Don said as he looked at the engine thrusters above them. “It's covered,” he said just as the others looked up to the sky.
<)>^<)>/
“Sweet mother,” PO Journigan said as she saw the IFFs below fall like wheat. “They didn't stand a chance,” she whispered.
Her Veraxin copilot glanced at her just as their implants and the shuttle's klaxons went off. “We're being lazed!” her partner said.
“Evasive! Deploy decoy!” the pilot snarled, flicking through the controls with her implants since her hands were still on the yoke.
<)>^<)>/
The shuttle screamed to get away, but a well-placed SAM hit it in the rear right wing root. The wing flamed and was severed there, sending its engine and wing off and spraying fuel from its torn wing fuel bladder that fed the flames.
On fire the craft spun tumbling, temporarily dampening the flames. The computer and the air crew tried to compensate with just the one pontoon engine, but it wasn't enough to recover in time to avoid the rapidly rising mountainside ahead of them. Alarms screamed as the pilots tried to pull up but they ran out of time. They augured into it with a spectacular explosion.
The Death's Head troops high fived briefly before their leadership ordered them to recover their gear, dead, and scavenge the bodies of t
he enemy for parts, ammo, and weapons before more Marines arrived.
<)>^<)>/
“Ma'am, Reaper is ready to go in.”
“But Gamma is down,” the colonel said, eying the bastards who had shot the shuttle down. “Look at them! Picking over our dead!” she waved to the camera feed.
“We can send Razor in, ma'am, hit them while they are distracted,” the major offered.
“No, I'm not sending in the drone when it'll be picked off by whatever anti-air unit they've got watching that area. No, we find another way. Can we get a KEW strike in?”
“No ship is in position. They'll take at least twenty minutes to reposition,” Major R'nz said unhappily.
“Damn it, they'll be long gone by then,” the colonel muttered as some of the enemy armor finished loading up with their ill-gotten gains and took off. It looked like they weren't staying together either. The squad they had been chasing caught up with them, took on their own share of loot and then moved on in a minute.
“Get with Murtough. I want a way to hit them with the Reaper without them seeing or not at all. If we can't hit them, I want you to keep the eyes bird out of their sight range. High but keep a lock on them.”
“We can't do both, ma'am. If we're too far out, we'll lose them,” the major warned.
“Damn it!” the colonel snarled as she watched the troops file through the pass, then disperse on the other side in different directions.
<)>^<)>/
“Uh! Now that's what I'm talking about!” Private Tray Fastback said, hand miming slapping an ass and then gripping it to hump it wildly. The others in the room laughed.
“Keep it down. I'm trying to work here, doncha know,” the armorer said testily from his stool. It had taken the team several days to skulk their way back to the base. That they'd made it at all right under the nose of the enemy was amazing. The captain's plan to feint to make the enemy think they were going to hit the Fallbrook area had made them concentrate all their resources there to form a roadblock to protect the town and region. That had allowed the squads to pivot back northeast to get back to base without being seen.
“Ah, come on,” the private drawled. “Sarge we're just having a bit of fun …,” he snapped to attention when a familiar presence loomed in the doorway. The others cut their eyes to where he was looking. They saw a dark shadow and slightly glittering eyes … but also the lit end of a stogie. When it flared and showed the captain's face, they too snapped to instinctively.