Gods of War (Jethro goes to war Book 5)

by Chris Hechtl

  <)>^<)>/

  Jethro was enchanted by the kittens and his lover. Shanti had put some of the pain of her brother's death aside … time apparently did heal some wounds or at least scarred them over so you could function once more. He laid with her on the blanket, ignoring the ants as he stroked her fur and watched the kittens play.

  He wouldn't have minded seeing Lisami and her brood but the kittens were in school and Lisami hadn't been able to juggle her schedule to get off to see him. Next time he thought as he put the problem aside.

  Rah had brought a string along, and they chased it like a snake in the grass. White had thought to bring a kite. She and her sister took turns with it, though some of the winds yanked them right off their feet. The first time, Red had squealed in sheer terror but hung on. Rah had caught the string and brought her back to the ground. After that it turned into another game.

  What got to him the most, what gave him the most laughter, was seeing the kittens. They were becoming better predators even though they were still a bit clumsy. But seeing them focus on something with intense ferocity and curiosity, the eyes dilate, and then the hip wiggle and inevitable pounce was delicious to see. In some ways it made up for his long absence and just caused more pain at the thought of leaving them again.

  Bast recorded everything for him. And she kept tabs on the refueling. They were on schedule.

  He felt Shanti roll him slightly onto his back. She rested herself on his chest and then just dozed in the sun. He stroked her gently and felt her purr. For the moment, all was right in the universe.

  <)>^<)>/

  They ate a late lunch; the kittens and Rah were pretty tired by then. Jethro did his turn of diaper duty, offering to do them all. He even picked up White and pretended to start to diaper her until she hissed at him and set the others off laughing.

  The kittens were impossible with the cleanup. Trying to shake the blanket out turned into a game of pounce on it or hide under it and pounce on someone else. He had a few minor scratches and bites on his legs, but he knew his nanites would heal them. Besides, it had been worth it.

  “Do we have time or …,” Shanti asked.

  Bast shook her head. She pointed to a countdown. Jethro heaved a sigh.

  “Okay,” Shanti said after looking at him. She patted his hand and then guided the truck to the spaceport once more.

  They went through security quickly, then went direct to the shuttle terminal. Jethro had no bags to check in. He waved to Roarack and the others who were already there waiting. He looked back to see most of the kittens had passed out on the road. He chuffed. Even Red was asleep. White was doing her best to stay awake and even Rah yawned. Shanti shushed her.

  “Sorry,” Rah murmured sheepishly as she stretched and scratched. She went over to check out the other members of Jethro's team. She caught sight of Letanga as he strolled over.

  “Oh, this, ladies, is Letanga, my cousin. Rah, Shanti, another member of the family, Letanga,” Jethro said. He eyed the leopard. “You know, you could have tagged along too,” he scolded.

  “Someone needed to ride herd on the group and get them back. You know how we can drink a bar until it closes,” Letanga said. He looked at Rah. “Hi. If I'd known you were this exquisite though …”

  Rah chuffed and turned away, clearly pleased but embarrassed by his attentions. They wandered off a bit talking softly to each other.

  Jethro looked at the shuttle with mixed loathing and anger. “Hey,” Shanti said softly and then poked him to get his attention. He turned to her.

  Shanti reached up to grab the back of his head and then pull it to hers. She stared in his eyes. “Do me a favor. Don't get killed,” Shanti growled, pressing her nose and forehead to his.

  “I'll try not to,” he said as he felt her grip on his head ease. He reached up and stroked the back of her hand.

  “Good boy,” she said as she tickled behind one ear. That triggered an uncontrollable urge to itch, which got her chuffing in amusement until he growled and pounced on her, and it turned into a giggling wrestling match. Finally, it ended in an embrace.

  “You comin' or what boss?” Pam said as she came over. She looked around, then went to the truck. She chuffed and then softly woke Red. “I'll miss you, kid,” she said, stroking the young one's ears.

  “Me too, I mean, I'll miss you,” Red said as she yawned. She climbed out of the seat and then went over to Jethro. She hugged his leg.

  Jethro took the time to pick her up and hug her back properly, then stroked the forehead of each of the sleeping kittens and kiss them on the forehead. He even stroked White's sleeping head once.

  He turned back to Shanti. Rah coughed in her hand and then took Red off with Pam to talk with Letanga waiting next to the stairs.

  “This never gets easier,” Jethro said huskily as he toed the ground.

  “Nor should it, dummy. Go out there and kick ass. But come back safe,” Shanti said.

  “Yes, ma'am. I'll do my best,” he replied.

  “You'd better.”

  <)>^<)>/

  “So, did you get any?” Roarack asked Jethro.

  Jethro snorted.

  “Huh. Yeah, well, with all the kittens already I doubted it. Apparently the family decided I needed to add to the gene pool. I wasn't even consulted,” Roarack said in an aggrieved voice. Jethro snorted.

  “Okay, so that explains the first ten seconds and the stains on your pants. But what happened with the rest of the six hours?” Pamplona asked the Neowolf, cracking the entire passenger section up at the Neowolf's growling discomfort.

  Jethro sat back and flicked his ears and smiled slightly at the humor, but his eyes were focused inward on the dwindling view of the spaceport behind them.

  <)>^<)>/

  Jethro dutifully went over the downloads in-between sending emails and video chats with the family back home until they got to the jump point two days later. For him, the time delay didn't matter. Apparently, Letanga had hit it off with Rah or so Shanti teasingly said in one of her video chats before Rah had ambushed her laughing and tickling.

  Apparently while they had been on the planet, a decision had been made not to detour to Agnosta. So they jumped to B-98 and then settled down into the jump and sublight routine. Some of the jumps lasted only a day or so, but the sublight time between jump points still took up an average of four days.

  The crew celebrated when they arrived in B100 omega and sent their IFF to the picket there. They received an update from the ansible and then turned to the final leg to Destria.

  Jethro had watched the videos Shanti had recorded and stuffed in his pocket as well as some of the letters she'd also tucked away in the files. Some were quite steamy; some had been something of a daily journal entry. He appreciated it, though some of her rants tended to bother him a bit. He knew time had gotten her over whatever had set her off then, but it bothered him to see her upset.

  But when they turned on that final leg, he got serious about the planning. They needed to be focused, and he fully intended to be. He couldn't afford to be distracted by his family; he had to keep his mind on the task at hand if he was going to survive it.

  The good news was that it looked like the air cover around the Capital City area was keeping the Death's Head Platoon under cover. It lent a great deal of credence to Major Zedeal's opinion that they were somewhere in that search zone. It sucked though that they hadn't found the bastards in the weeks since they'd started the intense search. Apparently, Colonel Harley had a couple thermobaric bunker busters in reserve with their name on them.

  Well, if they couldn't get the bastards the easy way, it was up to him and his people to finish the job properly he thought as the countdown to exit hyperspace in the Destria star system began its final inevitable down tick.

  Chapter 58

  The platoon had a little too much time on its hands, Captain Zhukov thought as he looked at the outdoor camera feeds. Summer had turned to fall, and fall was rapidly turning into winter wit
h no sign of a letup in the air cover in sight. He'd shut down the outer defenses and kept everyone inside while the enemy searched for them. He'd hoped they'd give up, but they hadn't.

  While they waited, there was a spot of good news. Sergeant Scornlan had gotten enough volunteers on hand to get several of the damaged armors back into action for whenever they could use them.

  Lieutenant Singh had reported that their injured were off the list and had put them back to work in the gym and on regular duties. Psychological problems were beginning to creep into the doctor's daily reports more frequently. Being hunted didn't help any of them. There was an air of fear and resentment in the group. They were supposed to be the hunters.

  Some of that resentment was pointed at the officers more and more, but it was unfocused. The rank and file wanted them to do something. Unfortunately, they were, just not what they wanted to do.

  They got daily reports, some from the enemy's radio broadcasts of the occasional ambush or skirmish. They also got news that two more bases had been found and bombed. After the second one, the general had stopped transmitting to them as frequently as he had. Apparently he'd wised up a bit, Dimitri thought.

  There were conflicting reports on how much his people had torn up. A few insisted they'd shredded an entire battalion. He wasn't as certain without hard evidence to back it up. At least going over the gun camera footage to claim kills and argue about it, kept some of the troops busy.

  There was considerable debate over using the remaining air support the Horathians had to get them out. That ended when Base 33C was bombed and along with it half their surviving air units. Besides, there was no way they could get air support into their location so close to the spaceport and Capital City, and the troops knew it.

  Some of the troops whimsically considered digging another tunnel, one longer and away from the enemy. But Lieutenant Kinoshita nixed the idea repeatedly. They didn't have anything to shore the tunnel up with and digging it tall enough to let the troops pass in their armor would require it.

  “The good news is, we're safe for the moment,” Captain Zhukov told the troops. “Hit the gym, work on KP, and keep busy or I'll damn well find you something to keep busy,” he said when he addressed the troops.

  “We're operating right under their nose, and they don't know where or how we're getting away with it. I love it. Once they give up, we're going to so hammer them all over again,” Lieutenant Sng said looking up to the ceiling. That earned a grim chuckle and muted cheer from the group.

  “I don't love it, I hate it. I'd rather be kilometers away thank you. If they trace us, they'll be all over us, and we'll have no place to go,” Captain Zhukov said with a shake of his head. “We're stuck here.”

  “Damn it, he's right,” Lieutenant Kinoshita said with a nod. Doctor Singh nodded grimly. That sobered the group.

  “When this air search lifts, we're going to test it, then slip our people out. We're going to evacuate this base in stages. I'm not sure yet where we will go, but we're not staying here. This spot is just too hot to continue working from,” the captain said with a shake of his head.

  “But our gear?” Sergeant Scornlan said.

  “We'll figure it out, even if we have to hump a piece of armor at a time out of this hell hole and to our next base. We're not beat; we're just stuck until we get the chance to regroup. It might take time for us to get a new home, but we'll do it,” the captain vowed.

  After the meeting, he met with his officers again. He shook his head. “I don't see any lifting of this. And if we did, we wouldn't trust it; the bastards could put off close surveillance to lure us out into the open where their long-range drones or satellites can pick us up.”

  “What about organizing a breakout sir?” Lieutenant Sng offered.

  “You think you can do that?” Lieutenant Zevaya asked, eying him.

  “Well, not me personally,” the lieutenant said, squirming under her gaze. She sniffed.

  “I'm not much good here. Give me a suit and I'll do it,” Lieutenant Robinson offered.

  “Unfortunately, no, we're not going to do that. Not unless we have to. We'd leave far too much behind if we did. It would be fun to rig this place though,” the captain said thoughtfully as he looked up to the ceiling. “Get clear then watch from a safe distance as the bastards poke their noses in and get blown to hell,” he said.

  “Now that's what I'm talking about,” Lieutenant Sng said with a nod.

  “But we're not doing that. That is a GOTH plan, we're nowhere near that. We need to sit tight, sight hard on our troops, and wait.”

  “We're getting low on alcohol and comfort rations. We're also out of fresh food. The troops are getting testy,” Doctor Singh warned.

  “They'll live with it,” the captain growled. “We have no other choice.”

  <)>^<)>/

  The natives, Marines, and government workers endured months of hell on the planet. It got to the point where the government issued a mandatory recall of all of the government workers. The workers protested but they were shuttled back up to their ship. That freed up the Marines from providing security for them to be more proactive.

  Over the course of several months three suspected bases were bombed. Unfortunately, on the third attack a Reaper drone was shot down with a thermobaric missile still under its fuselage. The missile went off destroying itself and the bird to keep it out of enemy hands. The loss was unfortunate; the Marines wouldn't say but they were low on the missiles inventory. A follow-up KEW strike had sealed that entrance.

  Both sides used what they could to facilitate their objectives. The Marines put more gear into the hands of local law enforcement and stepped up surveillance in order to do something about the persistent attacks. The Horathians had an IED or sniper attack a day initiative it seemed. The attacks were more or less random in the major cities and towns all over the planet. About half the IEDs drive-by shootings, arson, or other acts went off without interception.

  A favored tactic for a short hellish week was for a suicide driver to drive a vehicle or motorcycle into a village or town and throw bombs or fire automatic weapons into clusters of civilians. Events that gathered people together were a preferred target for their rampage.

  When the Marines and local law enforcement or native militia arrived on the scene and cornered the individual it sometimes turned into a hostage situation or shoot out. Sometimes the bodies of the drivers were rigged with explosives.

  Not all of the drivers managed to go through with the act, there were a few who refused and turned themselves in, left their gear and tried to melt into the population, or were caught right off. Each was interrogated but they could only give partial clues to where the bases were since they'd spent most of the time underground.

  Without a lot to do on the ship, Gurney Hernandez got on Debois's radio network daily to talk to the public … as well as talk to the community leaders on private channels.

  When he took to the radio waves he told people simple things they could do to help themselves. He hit different points in engineering, from water filtration to making salt to ways they can improve their homes and communities for defensive purposes. He mixed in some kitchen sink chemistry into it. He also asked that people take notes of those around them and write downtimes and descriptions and not to hesitate to call their local sheriff if they saw something out of the ordinary.

  “You have no idea how many bombs have been stopped because someone saw someone put some strange device somewhere and then had the courage to call it in before someone got hurt. Please, if you see someone who doesn't belong, or even someone who does and they are doing something that bothers you, listen to that instinct! Call! Let someone know before something bad happens! It could be you or your children walking by when it goes off!”

  Jean Claude had several other people act as anchors during his two-hour long radio show, he had taken to doing interviews from time to time to hit different points and air issues out. Sometimes they provided local news or playe
d music.

  He had his own Debois half hour address three times a day though. Occasionally he capped it with a high note, or a challenge to his people. But out of frustration and to let people know the Marines hadn't given up he capped his latest address with a challenge and warning of a different sort. “Colonel Harley assures us she's got a thermobaric round with the Death's Head name on it. The Marines are waiting for them to stick their heads up aboveground again so they can use the thing and put a permanent end to their story.”

  His face turned into a rictus. “Are you listening Captain Zhukov? Butcher of Quenos City and other places? We're waiting,” he taunted.

  When there was only silence he smiled grimly. “Yes I thought so. Hiding in your hole, scared as we were once frightened of you. The Horathians have no place on our world, nor their supporters. They may blow things up, hurt, maim, but with the Marines help and help from people like Mister Hernandez we'll pick up the pieces and rebuild. And if they knock that down we'll build it better the next time. We will or our children will. This is Jean Claude Debois wishing the people of Destria a safe and good evening,” he said, capping his segment.

  <)>^<)>/

  “He's laying it on a bit thick there,” Colonel Harley said as she heard Jean Claude's radio address to the planet. She shook her head. “I agree with the message but that's dangerous,” she said.

  “Yeah, just a bit. I hope it doesn't get someone killed,” Major N'v'll said.

  “You and me both,” the colonel replied.

  <)>^<)>/

  It took a while, but the crews on the river finally managed to use their sonar and other sensor rigs to find the armor in the river near the spaceport. Word got around team as dredging equipment was brought in from the coast to haul the suits up. It took time, salvaging the suits was tricky; you had to hook them just right or they got away.

  Once they got the technique down, one by one the suits were pulled dripping out of the river to the shore however. People milled about to see the feared suits. A Marine fire team was on site but they spent more time on crowd control then actually checking the suits out.