by Chris Hechtl
Chirup had already been bending his ear about becoming a general some day. That amused the hell out of just about everyone, seeing the pint-sized Neo in a general's uniform. Chirup hadn't been thrilled about the Napoleon jokes or the caricature someone had made of him in a Napoleon uniform, but he'd tamped down on his resentment after a while.
“Heat signatures of two inside on this level in the kitchen,” Misani said over the tactical link. “Overhead got a look down, we're seeing at least three more in the basement, possibly more. There are a lot of steam pipes. Watch you're asses,” he growled.
“You're too kind. Can we knock?”
“Please do since it's your turn,” Misani said. They were doing leap frog. One team knocked while the other covered in reserve and then they switched off.
“Good. Knock knock!” Chavez snarled, kicking the door in and rushing through. Chirup was hard on his heels as Sabu dived head first through an open window.
There was no immediate weapons fire, nor anyone in the living room. “Living room clear!” Sabu said as he rolled to his feet. He hand signed the rest of the squad to hit the stairs up and down while he, Chirup, Chavez and Loi finished the sweep of the main floor.
Chirup was the first into the kitchen and his small size saved his life. The gun rigged to go off was set at chest high for a normal human. It buzzed over his head. He dropped to all fours under the photo sensor and ran to it before it could articulate. He popped up and slammed the gun upward to fire into the ceiling just as Chavez started to round the corner. Two rounds went into the ceiling. Dust and plaster rained down and he spat.
“Clear,” He said, yanking the battery pack and then the ammo feed out.
“What the hell is this?” Loi rumbled, coming in behind Chavez. Sabu came in behind them, careful and looking around. There were two shapes at the table, but both of them were obviously not human, nor alive. They seemed to be store dummies, most likely from the tailor shop nearby. An oil lamp was in the lap of each of them.
“This is not good,” Chirup said as he ducked under the dining room table. His eyes widened as he saw the charged rigged to the underside. “It's a …”
“Trap!” Sabu said, trying to grab Loi to yank him out as the charges detonated.
Old fashioned but still very effective dynamite charges went off from not only under the table but inside the cabinets. Each stick had been wrapped in rusty nails and bits of metal. The explosions tore the four Marines apart as the shock wave shattered the room.
The lethal cloud went through the lath covered walls like they were paper, only stopping when they hit the outer brick wall. Some of it however rebounded off of the walls and into those within the building.
Eight Marines and four militia men lost their lives as the building collapsed on itself in flames.
<(>~^~<(>
One moment everything was going fine for Misani, the next all hell broke loose as the building erupted in flame and debris. He saw something fly past him and twisted out of the way just in time. It impaled itself into the telephone pole he'd been standing in front of. “What the hell was that?! Sabu! Someone!”
As he called out, he saw the squad's IFFs go crimson. Then the building seemed to collapse as secondary charges wrapped around the pillars in the basement went off, dropping the brick and stone walls down on them.
“Frack! Command! We've got ourselves a situation! Sabu's squad is down! I repeat, down! IEDs in the buildings!” Misani said, face drawn. He wasn't sure what he was going to tell the gunny. He looked up to the night sky, then back to the towering inferno where his friends and comrades had been. “Damn it all to hell and back,” he muttered as sirens began to wail.
<(>~^~<(>
“How did it go? Did you record it?” Admiral Irons asked. “I want that sent out on the next ship back. Use the courier if none are available. We're making more now anyway.”
“Are you serious, sir?” Amadeus asked in disbelief.
“As a heart attack. We need heroes like him. Like you.”
“Spare me blushes.”
“No, I'm serious. It's not, okay, well, it is a public affairs situation. Propaganda even. But it's to inspire people. Get them motivated. To showcase that we are out there, that even one person can make a difference. They need heroes like I said.”
“Okay, I can see the logic I guess,” the Neochimp replied, tugging on his ear. He'd hated that crap during the war but understood the reasoning.
“Oh, get back to work,” Irons texted back. The chimp snorted and cut the connection.
<(>~^~<(>
“Gunnery Sergeant,” Major White Wolf said over Jethro's implants, surprising him. His mind came instantly awake. He opened his eyes and looked at the rack above him. Someone snorted softly and turned over, making it bulge downward slightly.
“Ma'am?” Jethro asked, sitting up as straight as he could then flipping his legs out so he could get up if needed. He looked at Bast's avatar. She seemed sad, ears out, eyes wide.
“Ma'am? I'm sorry, I was told I can't get down until the next flight.”
“That's fine,” the wolf replied in a strange voice as she cleared her throat. He heard her sigh. From the sound of that sigh, he knew the news wasn't good. “Gunnery Sergeant, I regret to inform you that your brother-in-law was killed in the line of duty this evening.”
Jethro's eyes went wide. He sat back heavily, landing on his tail. He didn't even feel the pain, his pain was far deeper. He felt phantom caresses and heard Bast purr reassurances to him.
“What …” he licked his lips. “What happened, ma'am?” he asked softly.
“His squad was tasked with going after a safe house. It was a trap. The squad was wiped out. There are no survivors. Due to the thick brick walls and lead roofing and lead based paint, we couldn't get a good enough read inside.”
Jethro closed his eyes hard. He didn't know what to do, what to say to Shanti or Rah.
“Are you okay, Jethro?” the major asked, voice dripping with concern and sympathy.
“I'll be okay, ma'am. We're trained to handle it,” he said gruffly. “I'm just not sure how Shanti and Rah are going to take it, ma'am.”
“Hard. Very hard, their brother was a big force in their life. He lit the way for them. Losing him will hit them and the community hard. But we'll deal with that another day.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Try to get squared away. If you need more time, I'll see what I can do,” she said.
“I'll be okay, ma'am,” Jethro said, feeling a series of emotions run through him. Disbelief, anger, impotent rage, then a cold thirst for revenge. “Are you going to make the arrangements for the bodies?”
“Already in the works so you don't have to worry about that. I'll see you when you land, Gunny.”
“Copy that, Ma'am. I hope you have a mission for us,” he growled.
The wolf hesitated for a long beat then clicked her jaw. “I think we'll find something.”
“Thank you, ma'am. I don't want to … I don't like wallowing in …,” Jethro inhaled then exhaled slowly.
“I see. Understood, Gunny, we'll find you something to keep your mind occupied. Something other than being chained to the replicator. Good night.”
“Not much of a good one now, ma'am but take care.”
“I will.” He felt the connection disconnect and sat there, staring at the bulkhead. He slowly dropped his head in his hands. “What am I going to tell them?” he asked softly. Bast rumbled a purr, then sighed softly. He felt her phantom hands on his shoulders, but it wasn't helping at all. He wasn't sure what would or if he even deserved comfort.
Chapter 35
Jethro felt the sympathy, the concern from the other Marines as he walked through Charlie Base's quad to the troop barracks. He ignored it all. He was angry but cold with purpose. That vibe got picked up on right off. People got instinctively out of his way.
“What the hell happened, Misani?” Jethro demanded, eyes locking on the Marine private the momen
t he got into the troop bay. The welcoming smiles were absent or congealed as his tone registered. Silently the other Marines ducked their heads and got out of his way as he prowled towards the human Marine.
“Well? I asked you a question, Marine!” Jethro intoned, voice deepening instead of rising.
Misani snapped to attention, eyes locked to the bulkhead beyond him. “Gunnery Sergeant. My squad and Private Sabu's squad were tasked with hitting a series of safe houses that we got a tip on. The first ones went down like clockwork. But the third was a trap.”
“And no one saw it coming?” Jethro demanded, coming up to the human and getting right up in his face. “No one at all?” he asked, eyes slitted and probing the humans.
“No, Gunny. We didn't see it coming. Not a damn thing or I would have called it off. Honest. They hit minor resistance going in, an automated gun. I heard Chirup say something to the effect of ‘It's a …” he shook himself. “Sabu finished with the word ‘trap,’ then all hell broke loose as the IEDs went off. There was no way we could get in to help them, Gunny, honest,” he said.
Jethro turned, hands tucked into fists at the small of his back. He wanted to rip and claw, to do something. Judging from Misani's tone the Marine did too. He probably fully expected Jethro to blame him. A part of the panther wanted to, he was after all, mortal. But he also knew the risks, and he knew how things could go wrong so quickly, so simply.
“My squad survived because the building was rigged to implode instead of explode, Gunny. I guess they wanted to make sure they got them all. Or it was rigged to go off later when rescuers arrived, and it sympathetically detonated. I don't know.”
“No, you don't. Don't guess.”
“Yes, Gunny.”
“We hit two other houses after that, Gunny,” a voice said softly. He turned to see Private Akers, the Neootter militiaman with them. “But those times we were smart enough to send in drones and mechs. No one else died. But we lost some of the mechs when the buildings blew.”
“They can be replaced or rebuilt,” Jethro said in a deadened voice. He nodded once to Misani. “Good report. You did what you could. Don't go … don't do what I want to do. We all want vengeance. But if we lose our heads, we'll lose them for real. We have a more important duty to the mission and the living. You hear me?”
Slowly Misani and the others in the bay nodded.
“Sabu and the others will get their honor guard later. We'll see to that one day at a time. We hurt the bastards best by winning,” Jethro growled, voice rising into a slight hiss at the last word. “Remember that,” he said. He thought his voice lacked conviction, but it was the best he could do. He walked out without another word.
When he was outside the bay, he took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. The medal … that damn medal was cheap; it felt wrong now. More now than ever. He shook his head. He didn't want to ever see the damn thing.
“Gunny, the Major's compliments. She asked to check and see if you are busy. If not she wanted you to pop in to the HQ at Alpha,” a private said hesitantly. “Am I supposed to salute you now or something?”
Jethro snorted. “Just go about your business, Marine.” He nodded once as the Marine nodded, then sighed. “Bast, text her and let her know I'm on my way. Duty calls,” he said. Bast nodded.
<(>~^~<(>
Two days after Sabu's death Kathy's World used the ansible to report that the Damocles/Bounty convoy had passed through the star system on its way to Protodon. Word filtered down to the Marines about the battalion of troops on board. Many of the weary soldiers were happy by the incoming relief.
Moira saw it, saw that they saw the finish line in sight and knew what sort of a problem it was. They would lose sight of the goal, drop their guard. She called the Marines over the tactical link to have a little chat.
“By now all of you know the news. For those of you who don't, yes, First Battalion is on its way. They will be here in three months. So? So what? That's not important. Not right now.”
She saw the looks around her and snorted harshly. “What is important is the mission now. The goal now. The men and women around you. The men and women who are trying to kill you … now. Don't lose sight of that or you're dead.”
“Don't drop your guard! Not for an instant! It's not over until you're on another planet! You read me?” the Major snarled to the troops over the open address.
“Yes, ma'am,” several responded, even though she couldn't hear them.
“You drop your guard, start thinking of home and family, and you'll get your ass fragged or worse, a buddy. Keep your head in the game and your dick in your pants. You'll get home soon enough. For now, focus on staying alive and kicking ass. That is all.”
When she cut the address, she sat back in her chair and shook her head. Yes, the battalion was coming, yes they had equipment, but what bothered her even more than the troops’ loss of focus was the lack of support from Antigua. They had several thousand Marines on the planet, plus the industry to support them! They were churning out ships and fighters daily … but precious little support for the ground forces, for the men and women doing the dying daily.
New ships were on their way from Antigua, an escort carrier and supports. Again, up there, not down here where it truly mattered. Where the fighters could make some sort of difference … if they had the ordinance to use, which most likely they wouldn't. No, they'd be outfitted for an antishipping strike of course.
She just hoped the troops didn't start to resent the situation as much and as bitterly as she was beginning to.
<(>~^~<(>
General Busche received confirmation that the Marines were indeed split between two groups after the success of her little IED offensive. But hard on that heels came bad news; word was spreading through the media that a Marine battalion was coming in from Kathy's World loaded for bear.
That meant something had to be done now while the enemy was off balance and angry. If she could suck them in, get them to attack where she wanted …. She plucked at her lower lip as she checked her files and other sources of information.
It took a day, but she finally came up with a plausible plan. Over the course of the following week she carefully fed her sources to let them know where one of her old bases was. She would have to make a sacrifice to make certain the trap was baited properly. If it worked it would be a perfect trap, one that would blow the heart out of the Marines and allow her to go on the offensive. Once she got back into the towns and cities, the fighting would be again door to door, and the enemy wouldn't have help from orbit. If it didn't work, it would hurt. She'd lose a lot of troops, and it would burn a few native spies and make the enemy distrustful of informants in the future. A win win either way.
<(>~^~<(>
Moira hesitated, but then gave in to tradition and sent the death notices out. She wasn't sure how well they would be received on Kathy's World, but she knew they had a right to know.
<(>~^~<(>
Shanti got the news but nothing, no information on how or why Sabu had died. She was shocked, in grief and unsure about how to handle the situation. Anger followed that, anger first at Sabu for going off and getting his ass killed, and then at Jethro for not saving him, and finally at Moira for just sending her a form letter through the ansible. That hurt. She hurt all over.
She pulled Rah in from the field and told her the news the moment she walked through the door. Rah stared at her in disbelief and then rushed her, wrapping herself around her elder sister for comfort and support. They wailed together softly, crying until she realized it was bad for the kittens. Their cries made her cut off her grief and get back to the world of the living. She heard Rah snuffling softly as she got herself sorted out and back to work.
<(>~^~<(>
“Nothing. Not a damn thing, no warning about this,” Major White Wolf said, eying Arkangel coldly. The man sat across from her, his hands on top of the silver knob on the top of his cane.
“Sometimes it's like that, ma'am. We can't see
all; we're not omniscient.”
“No. That much I do know,” the Neowolf replied dryly. “But we can do better than this. You can,” she said eying him, “if you were really trained as you should have been from the start.”
“Ma'am?”
She saw his eye widened slightly, and she snorted. “Don't give me that innocent look, Briggs. I happen to know that's not your real name.” This time he did look shocked at her. “You're a con artist; I've put that much together. The Firm? I looked it up; your little club never existed. And,” she put up a restraining hand to stop him. “Don't try to tell me you flew under the public radar or you sanitized the records. It won't wash. I have your file.”
He stared at her with a sinking sensation. “You do?”
“Yes. You're a native of this planet. I realized that when you seemed reluctant to move on or go to space. You are in your comfort zone here, you know the players and the field.”
“I don't see why that matters, ma'am,” he said.
“It doesn't really. Not in the short run. You said your limbs and eye were lost in a dirigible accident but you have no burns and there is no record of you being injured in the local media,” she replied. He blinked at her. She smiled slightly. “I had an A.I. do a search of the documents we've managed to scan and upload into the net.”
“Oh.” He harrumphed.
“I've read the amendment to your file. Briggs isn't your name. You were recruited by Commander Montgomery after you were caught out.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he admitted. She cocked her head. “Fine,” he sighed in annoyance. “If you really must know, I wanted to join the military for the health benefits … and to reinvent myself. I succeeded in both accounts.”
“And the spy game?”
“As you said, I am … good at a scheme. I created my identity with sufficient back story to intrigue Lieutenant Montgomery.”