Crimson Fire (The Kurgan War Book 8)

by Richard Turner

  “What shall I tell Kyrran?” asked Katin, laying at Sheridan’s side.

  “Tell him he should wait as long as we can,” he replied. “He won’t get another opportunity like this ever again.”

  “What if we wait too long and are caught out in the open?”

  Sheridan sat up. “Look around. His people are exhausted and can’t carry on much further. He fights here, or his people die here, it’s that simple.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell him.”

  “We’ll go together. I want Kyrran to see that we’re all willing to stay and risk our lives with him.”

  They found Kyrran talking with the chiefs of the two cities whose warriors had already arrived on the battlefield.

  Sheridan bowed slightly to Kyrran before explaining to him why he should wait as long as possible in the hope that the rest of his forces will arrive in time for the battle.

  A runner burst out of the forest, interrupting the conversation. He handed Kyrran a piece of parchment. The young warrior read the note and let out a yelp of joy.

  “What is it?” asked Sheridan.

  Kyrran handed the note to Katin. She read it over and said, “One of the last two contingents we need to fight this battle will arrive within the hour.”

  Sheridan felt his mood brighten. “Does it say anything about the last batch of warriors?”

  “Yes. They were fired upon from the sky and took numerous casualties. Because of that, they had to re-group before continuing their march. They’re now expected to arrive an hour later than originally planned.”

  “Better late than never. What does Kyrran want to do?”

  “We fight,” replied the warrior, without waiting for Katin to translate the message.

  “I thought you’d say that,” said Sheridan. “Please send your runner back out and order the warriors who will be arriving late to move into the jungle on the eastern side of the valley. If the battle goes in our favor, they should arrive just in time to finish off what is left of Kordus’ men.”

  After some consultation among Kyrran’s fellow chiefs, the runner headed back into the jungle. Sheridan stood to one side, letting Kyrran run the discussions so he could show the other tribal leaders that it was he and not a stranger who would lead them to victory.

  “I guess we had best prepare ourselves for battle,” said Katin.

  “Looks that way,” replied Sheridan

  “I’ll get my brother ready.”

  Sheridan nodded. He could see the concern in Katin’s eyes. “He’ll be okay. Tarina isn’t just a good pilot, she’s a tough soldier too. No one will get close to Kobak while she’s on the job.”

  “I do trust her; it’s just I think we’re asking a lot of Kyrran’s people. Hundreds, if not thousands, will be killed or maimed in the coming fight.”

  “I know, but he truly doesn’t have a choice. Kordus forced his hand when he killed his father and attacked his people.”

  “Do you think Kordus will suspect a trap?”

  “I would hope so,” replied Sheridan. “I was always taught to assume that you were fighting against a smart enemy while hoping for a dumb one. I’m counting on Kordus’ inexperience in command and his unquenchable thirst to get his hands on your brother to drive him into our ambush.”

  “Let’s hope this plan of yours works, Major.”

  “It had better, or we’re all doomed.”

  Chapter 36

  “Screw this,” muttered Cole to himself.

  Unable to sit still any longer, he crawled back into the forest and waved at the closest Kurgan warrior. The hunter signaled back. Cole indicated with his hand for the warrior to come to his side. The Kurgan dashed over and took cover. Cole pointed at a Chosen soldier patrolling the wood line and pretended to shoot a blow dart at him. The hunter nodded and brought up his long bamboo blowgun. Cole shook his head to stop the warrior from firing until the soldier turned and began to walk in their direction, oblivious to the trap that awaited him.

  Cole took a deep breath and waited until no one was looking in the soldier’s direction before nodding at the hunter. The dart flew silently out of the forest and struck the doomed soldier in the leg. The poison-tipped arrow paralyzed the guard. Like a tiger leaping out of the forest onto its prey, Cole grabbed the soldier and hauled him back into the jungle. He placed his right hand over the dying man’s mouth and waited until the soldier was dead. Cole stripped the man’s uniform from his body and hurriedly changed into it. The shirt was a bit tight, but Cole didn’t care. He only had one thing on his mind: seeing if Wendy was still alive.

  Cole waved back at the Kurgan warrior and then pointed to the medical tent. The hunter gestured his understanding and moved behind a tall tree so he could cover Cole with his blowgun.

  “Okay, this had better work,” said Cole under his breath as he picked up the dead soldier’s rifle, made sure the safety was off, and walked out of the jungle as if nothing was wrong. He paced back and forth for a few seconds to make it look like he was doing his job. When Cole was satisfied that no one was paying any attention to him, he walked straight toward the medical tent. Each step he took made him anxious. Cole had to remind himself not to run.

  At the opening of the tent stood a Chosen soldier. Cole slung his rifle over his back, reached behind, and drew his bayonet. His stomach tightened as he walked within striking distance of the soldier.

  The soldier raised a hand. “Stop! You’re not allowed in here.”

  Cole ignored the warning and kept going. At the last possible second, Cole whipped the knife from behind his back and thrust it into the soldier’s belly. With his free hand, Cole pushed the dying man inside the tent and drew his pistol.

  The room was empty except for a Kurgan Lieutenant and two Chosen orderlies who were looking after a couple of wounded soldiers and Wendy.

  The sight of Wendy lying in a bed knowing that part of her leg was missing enraged Cole. “Raise your hands,” he snarled.

  The stunned medics dropped what was in their hands and brought their arms up. The officer, thinking he had the drop on Cole, went for his pistol, only to stop when Cole swung his gun over and pointed it at the lieutenant’s head.

  “Toss your gun over here,” ordered Cole.

  The Kurgan lieutenant threw his pistol to the ground at Cole’s feet.

  “Good boy. Now all of you get down on the ground and place your hands on top of your heads.”

  Cole waited until his prisoners were prostrate before running to Wendy’s bed. She was fast asleep with a bloody bandage covering the stump where her right leg had once been. Cole ran a hand over her cheek, happy to see that she was still alive. Anger consumed Cole’s mind and body. He walked over to his prisoners, pointing his pistol at their heads.

  “Which one of you bastards was stupid enough to cut my friend’s leg off?” demanded Cole. His voice was cold and threatening.

  “Please don’t kill us,” pleaded one of the orderlies.

  Cole got down on one knee and jammed the pistol’s barrel against the man’s head. “I asked you a question, which one of you cut my friend’s leg off?”

  “The order came directly from General Kordus,” said the lieutenant. “You’re a soldier; you have to understand that we were only doing our duty.”

  “You’re not a soldier, you’re a butcher,” replied Cole, pulling the trigger. He moved from man to man until all three were dead.

  Any chance at hiding in plain sight among the Chosen soldiers evaporated the instant he shot the men responsible for hurting Wendy. Cole could hear soldiers calling to one another outside of the tent. He unslung his rifle, moved to the open tent flap, and shot the first soldier he saw, sending the others scrambling for cover. He’d bought himself some time, but it wouldn’t take long for the soldiers to realize he was all by himself and come for him.

  A burst of automatic gunfire tore through the tent, forcing Cole to dive to the ground. He rolled over and brought up his rifle as a soldier brought up his arm to throw a grenad
e at the tent’s opening. Cole opened fire. The soldier, hit three times in the chest, dropped backward, releasing the grenade in his hand. The men closest to the body saw the grenade roll along the grass and ran to escape the blast, only to be cut down by Cole.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Cole spotted more soldiers forming up under an officer next to the Kurgan ship. He gritted his teeth and laid his rifle’s sights on the officer. Cole held his breath and pulled back slowly on the trigger. He felt the weapon’s recoil in his shoulder as the round shot forth and struck the officer in the leg, sending him tumbling to the ground.

  His luck was bound to end, and Cole knew it. If he was going to die, he wanted to be near Wendy when it happened. Cole crawled back from the tent opening and got up on his knees when he heard an odd rumbling sound. A second later, the ground began to tremble. He looked out at the jungle as the trees split apart and a herd of tall, two-legged lizards with brown and green skin burst out into the open and ran straight at the Chosen soldiers. Cole grinned when he saw his young comrade, along with the rest of the warriors, running in between the lizards, firing their blowguns at the stunned soldiers.

  The soldiers saw the green horde coming their way and panicked. Some tried to stand and fire at the lizards, only to be brought down with a poisoned dart. Most of the men standing next to the mortars turned and fled only to be pursued by the lizards and the Kurgan hunters.

  Cole ran out of the medical tent and turned to face Kordus’ command post. He dropped to one knee and took aim at the front door to the TOC. Cole flipped the selector switch on his rifle to grenade and launched a high explosive bomb at the door, blasting it apart. He ejected the spent cartridge, loaded another one, and fired it into the smoking doorway. Not bothering to see if anyone had survived the blast, Cole sprinted to the opening, thrust his rifle inside, and emptied what was left in his magazine before ejecting it and slamming home a fresh one.

  A bloodied Kurgan captain staggered out into the open, missing his right arm below the elbow. He also had a deep cut down the right side of his face. Cole swung his rifle over and finished him off with a single shot. He waited a few seconds for the smoke to clear before stepping inside, firing as he walked. Broken and bloodied bodies lay strewn around the command post. Cole stepped over the body of a dead Kurgan colonel and made his way to the communications officer’s workstation. A lieutenant lay face down on the table with a hole in his back.

  A pained voice begged for help.

  Cole pushed a chair aside and found a Kurgan captain trying to sit up. The officer had a long, jagged piece of wood sticking out of his right leg. Cole grabbed the captain by his collar and hauled him to his feet. The Kurgan looked stunned and unaware of what was going on around him. Cole placed him in a chair and disarmed him.

  “Do you want to live?” Cole asked the captain.

  The Kurgan stared blankly at Cole.

  “I said, do you want to live?” said Cole, placing the barrel of his rifle against the officer’s temple.

  The captain gulped and nodded.

  “Good. I’m going to tie you to this chair. If you try to escape, I’ll hand you over to one of the locals, and they’ll happily skin you alive. Got it?”

  The officer’s eyes became as large as saucers. He mumbled that he understood.

  After securing the captain, Cole stepped outside to observe the situation. The herd of lizards melted back into the jungle as the warriors gave up their pursuit of the scattered Chosen soldiers. Cole glanced up at the transport ship and saw three men in the cockpit rushing to get their ship off the ground. He looked around and spotted a missile launcher laying on the ground next to a dead soldier. Cole ran over, checked that the weapon was loaded, and hauled it up onto his shoulder. He took aim at the cockpit. The sound of the ship’s engines warming up told him he had only a few seconds left before the vessel flew away to safety. Cole pressed the fire button, launching the missile straight at the ship. With a thundering boom, the rocket struck just behind the cockpit, tearing it off the ship. The craft’s engines began to power down. It was going nowhere.

  Cole’s counterpart jogged over and gave a thumbs up. He smiled at the young hunter. “Yeah, you and your friends did real good work today.”

  The warrior smiled back and let out a loud whoop.

  Thirteen, there were now only thirteen of them left, thought Cole as he counted the warriors. Still, they had done their job, and now it was up to Sheridan and Kyrran to do the rest.

  Cole patted the hunter on the back. “Okay, we’ve got to assume that whoever’s left in and around the city will try to dislodge us from this position, so we need to make it defendable.”

  The young warrior looked up with a puzzled look on his face.

  Cole got down on one knee, took hold of his bayonet, and started to draw on the ground. It took a couple of minutes, but the hunter got the message and called his fellow Kurgans over to tell them what to do. Cole stood and stretched out his aching back. He turned to face the medical tent. It was time to move Wendy to safety; the only problem was there was nowhere to move her where she would be safe.

  With a million problems requiring an equal number of solutions running through Cole’s mind, he grabbed a warrior by the arm and led him inside the TOC. He flipped over a chair and had the hunter sit down in it directly across from the wounded captain.

  “Now, Captain, you’re going to tell your boss there was an attack on the command post, but you and your cohorts repelled it.” Cole pointed at the warrior. “This Kurgan knows your language, and if you so much as say a word of warning, he’ll cut you open from your groin to your neck and let your innards spill out onto the ground. Understand?”

  The captain stared at the fresh blood stains on the warrior’s tunic.

  Cole snapped his fingers. “Hey! Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, but I can’t work the comms systems with my hands tied behind my back,” protested the officer.

  Cole looked over at the dust-covered table and picked up a portable comms device. He ensured that it still worked and held it to the captain’s mouth. “One word of warning and you’ll find out what it’s like to be skinned alive.”

  Cole depressed the talk switch.

  “Scimitar Leader, this is Scimitar Six, do you read me, over,” said the Captain.

  “Scimitar Leader, here, send your message,” said a voice over the radio.

  “Scimitar Six, roger, we were attacked by a hostile force of natives but have successfully repelled them, over.”

  “Scimitar Leader, good work. We are about to break out into the open. I need you to launch a couple of fresh drones to help cover our advance.”

  The captain looked up at Cole, unsure what to say.

  Cole nodded.

  “Scimitar Six, I’ll have them airborne and on their way to you as soon as we can.”

  “Scimitar Leader, great news. Let me know when they’re five minutes from my location. Scimitar Leader, out.”

  Cole placed the radio in his pocket. “I take it your mortar platoon also acted as your target and surveillance team?”

  The Captain looked at the ground.

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Since your mortarmen are dead or have run off, I guess your boss will have to go into battle lacking any aerial reconnaissance.” Cole thought about it for a moment, then swore. “God damn it. Your bloody ships in orbit can still provide him with all the intelligence he requires. Well, there’s not a lot I can do about that from here . . . for now.”

  Cole left the TOC and walked outside to get a breath of fresh air. He watched as Wendy’s bed was set down inside the command post. She was still sleeping. His heart ached at the horrible agony she had to endure while they cut off her leg. Cole glanced up at the sun; it was nearing noon.

  “Okay, Mike, the ball’s in your court,” said Cole. “Give them hell.”

  Chapter 37

  “Where are those blasted drones I ordered?” groused Kordus.

  “Sir, I have been
unable to reach the UAV team or our TOC,” reported Major Kuhlik.

  “Why the hell not?”

  “There can be any number of reasons as to why we can’t reach them. I suspect we’re in a dead zone and our comms are unable to reach back to our rear echelon. It’ll pass once we take the high ground to our front.”

  “What about our ships? Can you speak with them?”

  “Yes, I can, General.”

  “Fine, we’ll use them to provide live intel and use what’s left of reconnaissance platoon to screen our advance.”

  “As you wish, sir.”

  Kordus and Kuhlik stood at the edge of the tree line looking up at the hill with the ruins on it.

  “Sir, if I were planning an ambush, this is precisely where I would stage it,” cautioned Kuhlik.

  “I’m not an idiot, Major, I’ve thought the same thing,” replied Kordus. “But Kobak is out there somewhere, and I want his head. The longer this farce takes, the less likely the other families will support my father’s claim on the throne. We must end this today.”

  “General, we could swing around to the east and avoid this open field altogether.”

  “And how much time would that take?”

  “At the pace we’re going, I’d have to say about three to four hours.”

  Kodak snorted and chuckled. “We don’t have that kind of time to waste, Major. Send what’s left of reece platoon forward and have them report what they can see.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Kuhlik, waving his radio operator to his side.

  Four teams of hoverbike riders, two on either side of the open field, raced just above the ground toward the hill.

  Both men stood silent and watched the feed coming back from the hoverbikes on their mini handheld tablets. When the bikes were within a dozen meters of the hill, a line of warriors popped up from the camouflaged holes they had been hiding in and loosened off a volley of arrows and poison darts. Struck by the deadly projectiles, three teams slammed into the dirt at the base of the hill. Two uninjured soldiers struggled to get their bikes working only to be struck down. The fourth team swung their bikes around and sped back down the hill.