INCEPTIO (Roma Nova)

by Alison Morton

  ‘Okay, listen in,’ Paula whispered. We hunkered down around her in a circle, sheltering in the lee of a rise in the ground. ‘Bruna and Livius, you go and do a close recce around this area.’ She pointed to a spot on the map. ‘We’ll backstop you in a square.’

  ‘Come on, Miss Blue Dude,’ Livius said, winking at me as we set off, ‘try and keep up.’

  ‘Hah!’

  We found a good observation point behind the crest and waited, stretched out, for ten minutes and scanned the woodland in front of us. No sound but our breathing.

  ‘Far too quiet,’ I whispered in his ear. ‘No wildlife.’

  He nodded. We crawled along the crest of the rise until it tapered off into the ground. I swept the area with my hand sensor and detected a perimeter wire half a metre in front of us. A tiny noise cracked to our left. I was ahead of Livius; I signalled him to go behind while I advanced, crouching and wary. Then I saw her, standing by a large tree. Not very tactical. Too easy. Then she half-turned. Oh, crap! Major Sella. Was this one of the ‘surprises’?

  ‘Locked on to unfriendly,’ I whispered into my mic. ‘But no attempt at cover by subject.’ I glanced through my helmet sensor. ‘And no detection field up.’

  ‘Confirmed another here. Same status. Locked on,’ said Livius.

  Were they so confident their wire would be sufficient?

  ‘Good to go.’ Paula’s distant voice in my ear.

  ‘On my mark,’ I said. ‘One, two, three. Mark.’

  I brought her down in one movement. She was winded by the impact. I kicked her weapon away, rolled her onto her front and tied her hands behind her with a cable tie. I crouched, braced for attack from a backstop. I circled in a three-sixty check. Nobody. Silence.

  I pulled Sella behind the tree, her face down. I extracted my carbon fibre knife from my jacket and angled it against her neck just to the side of the external jugular. I pressed lightly on her skin. ‘Where’s the marker?’

  She said nothing.

  I bent down so my mouth was millimetres from her ear and said in my softest tone, ‘I don’t have time for pretty please, Major. After thirty seconds, I’m going to get annoyed. You don’t want me annoyed, I assure you.’

  No answer. I jerked down harder with my knee.

  ‘Come on, Major, or you’ll have a scar on your neck for life.’ I encouraged her by nicking her skin. She gasped at the sharp bite of the knife.

  ‘Root of the tree. Behind you.’

  Livius appeared at that moment with his prize, another training staff.

  I retrieved the marker and tied green labels on their wrist bindings to signal they were neutralised and out of the exercise. The dribble of blood on Sella’s neck had turned dull and started to clot.

  Tabbing back to the rendezvous point, Livius shot me a look.

  ‘You don’t think that was a bit overdone? I mean, sticking a knife into the training major’s neck is not a good career move.’

  ‘No prob, Livius. I’m not planning on making my career here.’

  His eyes widened.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, ‘do we want to win or not?’

  He grinned, stopped and faced me. He gripped my forearm with his and said, ‘Didn’t know you had it in you.’

  We were only on day one of three. We crouched around, planning our next move.

  ‘That was far too easy,’ Paula said. ‘Presumably meant to dull our guard.’

  The others grunted in agreement.

  I jabbed at the map. ‘It’s only a theory and I don’t know the training area well,’ I began, ‘but here, here and here would be obvious places to drop markers, so we could sweep the sector to see if we could catch another team. The problem is they’ll be double-wary.’ I looked at the others. ‘Or we could do the unexpected and travel into another sector; then go hunting there. In either case, we could “liberate” the other sector teams’ markers.’

  Three faces stared at me.

  ‘What? Hasn’t anybody ever done that?’

  ‘Of course, but I didn’t expect it from a scarab,’ drawled Atria.

  ‘Shows how spectacularly ignorant you are, then.’

  Despite the warm day, the temperature chilled.

  Atria said nothing, but tried to stare me down.

  Flav coughed and laid his hand on my arm. I shook it off, my eyes still locked on Atria’s.

  ‘Enough, Atria, Bruna,’ snapped Paula. ‘Move.’

  We broke camp and travelled a little under twelve kilometres west. It was exhausting work, remaining tactical over such a distance, and we gave ourselves three hours’ rest. Thanks to Felix, I could fall asleep within two breaths. I woke just over two hours later. Instantly. Somebody was in the trees nearby. Not one of our team. Flav was crouched beside me, awake, watching as sentry. I signalled with my fingers and jerked my head to the south-west. He raised an eyebrow, nodded and set off south. I went westwards. After three minutes moving silently, I spotted two figures in a small clearing: Lieutenant Stern and a woman I recognised, but didn’t know her name, were standing five metres away consulting an electronic map pad. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and made small jabbing movements with his hands as if agitated. He kept glancing at his watch. Strange. They were quiet but not covert. Was this some kind of decoy move?

  I shouldered my rifle and took out my knife. I spotted Flav across the clearing and signalled him to wait one minute. To my surprise, Stern spoke into his commset. We were supposed to be on total radio silence. He looked around as if hoping to see something.

  I gestured Flav to approach obliquely. I burst from the undergrowth and felled Stern, my knee in his back. I knew I had to be quick; he was a very effective field operative and strong. I had him tagged within five seconds. Flav had secured his companion and trained his rifle on both. I gathered up their weapons. Sure, it was an exercise but, with live fire, I didn’t want any casualties.

  ‘What the fuck are you playing at?’ Lieutenant Stern’s voice echoed unnaturally loudly around the trees. He rolled over and sat up, eyes blazing.

  ‘You came into our defence area,’ I hissed. ‘What did you expect? And keep your voice down. Sir.’

  ‘Gods, it had to be you, Bruna, didn’t it?’

  He sounded really pissed at me.

  ‘Gather your team up. You’re going back to base.’

  Flav and I exchanged glances.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I’m giving you an order.’

  ‘With respect, sir,’ Flavius said, ‘how do we know it’s not some trick part of the exercise?’

  ‘Reasonable point. Codeword Honoria. Convinced?’

  Flav looked puzzled and glanced at me. I didn’t know either. I was on the point of arguing when I saw the others approaching.

  ‘It’s okay, Bruna. Stand down,’ Paula said as she jogged toward us. ‘It’s a codeword to finish simulations stat.’ She bent down and released Stern. ‘What’s the problem, sir?’

  ‘Yours is the first team I’ve found, Sergeant, though Mars knows what you’re doing in this sector. I need one more. Any idea where the next one is?’

  ‘About two kilometres south of here,’ she said. ‘We were going to ambush them tomorrow early.’

  He gave her a sour look then tapped into his el-pad. ‘Transport will be here in fifteen minutes. Stay here and wait for it.’ He and his companion took off in a southerly direction.

  The six of us recovered our kit and squatted in the shelter of the trees at the clearing edge.

  ‘What in Hades is going on, Paula?’

  ‘Not a clue, but we’re no longer on exercise.’

  LXX

  The exercise base camp was swarming with activity: equipment piling up ready for transport, tents coming down, kit being thrown into vehicles. The adjutant was standing in front of the main tent, el-pad in hand, throwing out orders, his assistant relaying them over the comms net. Lieutenant Stern was standing beside the adjutant and furiously entering data into his el-pad. He still
looked miffed, but was now distracted.

  The adjutant looked up at the sound of our vehicle approaching and summoned us with an impatient wave as we pulled up.

  ‘Out, you lot. Grab a quick bite and back here in five. Go.’

  Paula took one look at his face and herded us toward the open-air mess, now consisting of a harassed cook, a field burner and a single trestle table. The cook sloshed milk-free coffee into mugs and thrust a bacon sandwich at each of us.

  Ten minutes after reporting back to the adjutant, we were bumping along in the back of a truck, heading for the local air base to be inserted into a support operation in the north. The base staff calmly handed us open country fatigues, fur-lined fatigue jackets, Kevlar helmets and cold rations. We had twelve minutes to wait before the flight.

  ‘Didn’t reckon on this, did you, Bruna?’ Livius said and thrust a mug of steaming chocolate drink at me. ‘Here, get as much warm inside you as possible.’

  ‘But why are we going? There must be a reserve when the unit’s on exercise?’

  ‘Yes, but we’re nearer. The other tactical units are still out on the exercise ground and out of radio comms. So lucky us was the only choice.’ He grinned at me, his eyes brimming with some kind of muted excitement. ‘The DJ are pinned down by some maniacs and need back-up now. We can be there in under thirty minutes.’

  I sipped my chocolate and chewed the hard energy biscuit.

  ‘Bruna, Livius, over here.’ Lieutenant Stern beckoned us over to where the four others were waiting. He gave me a fierce look, but said, ‘I’m not going to eat you, Bruna, though how a scarab took me I’ll never know.’ Flavius trod on my foot before I could retort.

  Lieutenant Stern called the six from the other team to gather round. ‘Right, the silver mine up at Truscium had a security alert and called in the local scarabs.’ He looked at me. ‘The custodes, I mean. They only have about a dozen there as the security is normally iron-cast. But somehow a group of prisoners have organised themselves, broken out of the barracks and taken over the admin building. We don’t know what’s happened to the staff or the administrator. As of two hours ago, we understand six of the custodes are dead, two others injured. Their emergency centre lost comms with them twenty minutes ago.’

  Silence had fallen. All I heard was other people’s breathing and background noises. An air force clerk appeared and distributed maps and satellite photos.

  ‘We have to assume the DJ are all dead. Our task is to hold the area and stop a breakout spreading until they get enough regular reinforcements up there to take it back. We need to secure and hold these points here, here and here.’ He jabbed at the large-scale map he had pinned on a cargo crate. ‘Then we control the site entrance and the admin centre.’

  He wiped his finger across the brow of his nose. ‘I must emphasise this is a containment operation, not a take-back. But timing is crucial. If they’ve managed to disable the internal electronic security systems at Truscium, then getting through the external barriers may not be difficult for them.’

  ‘Livius, you lead the marksmen, three teams of two. These four, you and Bruna.’ I stopped drinking and stared at him. He glared back. ‘Your record says you can shoot. Problem?’

  I shook my head.

  I sat opposite Paula in the helicopter as it pounded its way into the mountains, fighting the early morning light. I clutched my new rifle and scope. I’d had five minutes to sight it as best I could with the help of an armoury sergeant from the air force base. If I hit anything, it would be a miracle. But none of the others was in any different place.

  The cold blast hit us as we tumbled out of the helicopter. It was mild October on the plain, but up here it was Arctic winter. The rest of me was warm, but the wind stung and picked at my face. I followed Livius as we scuttled then crawled on our stomachs up to our designated point on the crest of the ridge. I lost sight of the others as they dispersed to their positions. We were no longer playing.

  Livius unpacked a small bivouac, more like a large sleeping bag for two, and we eased inside it, pulling the sides together with a drawstring. He stuck bracing wires into a small flap and pulled it over our heads, giving us maximum camouflage as well as protection against the wind, but leaving our sightlines clear. ‘No point freezing our butts off,’ he said.

  ‘Take a really slow sweep across an arc in front of the admin centre door. Get to know every mark on it, the handles, the rim, every detail. Don’t worry, the sight glass is honeycombed. It won’t reflect.’

  I followed his instructions, my arms forming a triangular frame with my elbows on a support mat. I heard him muttering into his commset. I gasped as I saw a figure in bright yellow prison clothing run across the courtyard behind the admin building to the side perimeter. A crack came several hundred metres from my right and the figure fell.

  After thirty seconds, the figure rolled over on its side toward the admin building. Hands reached out of the door and dragged it in.

  The wind whined around us, rattling our shelter as we waited. The sun began its slow drag upwards, giving us a little warmth, but the light it projected was horizontal. I needed to squint to see anything. More movements below. I nudged Livius. He muttered into his radio.

  ‘Stand by,’ he whispered. ‘I think we have some business.’

  A swarm of yellow burst out of the admin centre and flowed to the entrance. I took aim for the top of the door and fired. It shut abruptly. I fired again, hitting the crossbar at the top of the main gate. I heard other shots crack out. The swarm disintegrated, figures throwing themselves on the ground, inching their way to the wall and cowering behind it.

  I breathed out. Silence. Minutes later, a burst of shouting down by the entrance. Then it subsided. I peered through my sight, relating everything that I saw to Livius. When nothing had happened for ten minutes, we relaxed a notch.

  ‘Well done, Bruna.’ I heard a faint pop of an instadrink packet. ‘Here, drink this.’

  Malt and ginger, but synthetic. Who cared? I took a long swig then handed it back. I lay my head down and closed my eyes to rest for a few moments. I was so tired from the exercise but adrenalin had kept me going. An urgent hand on my shoulder dragged me back.

  ‘Wake up, sleeping beauty, more happening.’

  ‘Juno, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to fall sleep on you.’

  ‘I let you have a full ten minutes. I think I’d have been out myself if I hadn’t woken you.’ He grinned at me. How could he do that on the side of a freezing mountain in the middle of a live operation? ‘Flex the muscles in your arms and legs. They’ve probably got stiff.’

  He pointed at the armoured wire perimeter, hardly moving the tip of his finger. ‘Somebody’s crawling around the gate. I think we should discourage them. Want to try?’

  I aimed, squeezed and missed the top bar, but hit the middle panel of the gate.

  ‘Again.’

  I hit the crossbar this time. He muttered into his radio and more fire poured on to the gate. A figure crawled away, pulling himself along on his elbows. I had a perfect view of his face. I didn’t move my rifle. I blinked to clear my eye. There was no mistake. Brown wavy hair, utility glasses instead of frameless. It was him. I checked my aim again, breathed out partway and squeezed the trigger. The yellow figure collapsed on the spot. I released the other half of my breath and dropped my head onto the cold ground for a few seconds. What had I done?

  LXXI

  Shots rattling down from the compound toward the two gullies below the entrance made me jerk my head back up. I glued my eye to the sight rim. We knew from the DJ recordings that the prisoners must have penetrated the secure access into the armoury. We saw Paula’s group return fire from several positions. They clung on to the mountain face like tough alpine plants, fighting with minimal protection and bad sightlines as hopelorn criminals tried to kill them.

  Both Livius and I gave covering fire to take the pressure off them. We might have been cold and exposed up here but Paula and the other team
risked far more from this direct fire. A deafening crack. A fountain of gravel exploded to our left. We threw ourselves flat, clamping the hard rock.

  ‘Move time.’

  We slithered down the back slope, gathered up our kit, crawled a hundred metres east and set up again. Lungs heaving from exerting ourselves in the cold air at the high altitude, we rested for a few minutes to steady our bodies before settling down to scan again. Livius fired off another round in front of a yellow figure approaching the main gate. I was watching through my sight and opened my mouth to whisper the result when I heard a dull thud, followed by a stifled cry.

  ‘Fuck.’ Livius was clasping his upper left arm, face contorted in pain. ‘Bastard’s shot me.’ I dragged him back behind the crest and scavenged in his pocket for a field dressing. His eyes followed my hands as I unzipped his coat and applied the pressure pad. He winced as I pulled the bandage tight, but encouraged me with a ghostly smile. I found his drug pack and gave him a shot to ease the pain. I laid his arm across his chest and listened to the string of whispered curses.

  His commset buzzed. I reached over, grabbed it and fixed it on my ear.

  ‘One friendly casualty, upper arm. Stabilised, but need medivac as soon as possible,’ I said.

  I had no idea how long we were going to be there.

  Organising the shooters via radio was no different from organising any other team. You needed two things: to be able to count and to stay cool. As the medics dragged him away on a sledge, Livius had pushed his digital code card into my hand with all the station IDs and freqs. The four other snipers seemed happy to take orders from me. I supposed technically I was the senior rank left. I had them fire in a random pattern and move every fifteen to twenty minutes.