“Roger, LT.”
Gordon switched to the company net. “Cobalt-Six, this is Cobalt-Four, over.”
“Cobalt-Four, Cobalt-Six.”
“Six, be advised, you have at least a battalion-sized element moving your way down the valley.”
“Four, can you put artillery on them?”
“Six, Negative. They are out of our sight. Do you still wish me to hold my position?”
“Four, stand by.”
The lieutenant switched back to the platoon net.
Gordon heard artillery shells exploding in front of his platoon’s position. One of the platoon machine guns fired short bursts while a few rifles barked.
“They’re pulling back,” said SSG Brown, 3rd Squad’s leader.
“LT, they got more infantry moving up on us. A lot more, sir,” Harris said over the net.
“He’s right, sir,” Fox added. “Four companies at least. Maybe more. They’ll run right over us.”
“Pound them with arty, sergeant,” Gordon said. “I’ll see if I can convince the commander to let us get the hell out of here.”
“Roger that, LT.”
Gordon went back to the company net. The commander had not come back on since he told Gordon to stand by. “Cobalt-Six, this is Cobalt-Four, over.”
“Cobalt-Six, this is Cobalt-Four, over.”
Gordon was getting no reply and gritted his teeth in frustration. “Cobalt-Six, this is Cobalt-Four, over.”
A tone sounded in his ear. A glance at his command screen showed him it was Sergeant Fox. “Fox, Gordon here.”
“LT, the commander has rescinded our clearance to call for fire.”
“Fuck. How could…” Gordon’s voice trailed off as he grimaced in anger. “Shit, it’s my fault, sergeant. I told him about the Pythan force headed for Louistown. That’s why it was pulled.”
“That isn’t on you, LT. It’s on the commander. We’re dead unless we get artillery support.”
“Platoon, this is Lieutenant Gordon. Get ready to pull out. If I can’t convince artillery to help us, we run for the ravine behind us and try and make our way to Louistown.”
“LT,” Fox said, “look. I—”
“My call, sergeant. We can discuss it before my court-martial.”
Gordon brought up the artillery net. “Steel-Rain-Five-Niner, this is Cobalt-Four, over.”
“Cobalt-Four, Steel-Rain-Five-Niner, be advised all artillery assets are reserved for the defense of Louistown.”
“Five-Niner, Cobalt-Four, roger. Give me one battery, a single shoot. I have a platoon hung out to dry and that might just save us.”
“Cobalt-Four… I wish I could help, but… stand by Cobalt-Four.”
Gordon hung his head, resting his chin on his armor vest.
A minute later Steel Rain 59 came back on the air. “Cobalt-Four, artillery commander says she’ll authorize two batteries at one per, but it must be soon. One shoot per, do you understand, over?
Gordon’s head shot up. “Five-Niner, roger! Stand by.”
Gordon switched to the platoon net. “Sergeant Fox, give me an estimate how long till the Pythans hit the wire in front of us.”
“They won’t, at least not most of them. They’ll go down each side and come up that way, or they’ll encircle us and make us surrender.”
“How long to the sides then?”
The platoon sergeant looked over the ground. “Six or seven minutes, sir.”
“Get ready to pull out. We have very limited arty support, but it’ll be better than none.”
He switched to the artillery net. “Steel-Rain-Five-Niner, this is Cobalt-Four, over.”
“Send your traffic, Cobalt-Four.”
“Five-Niner, Cobalt-Four. Targets are infantry, in the open. First shoot at preplot seven, second shoot at preplot three. Six minutes. If you have any to spare drop it on my current position after that, it’ll be Pythan by then.”
“Cobalt-Four, preplots three and seven, in six minutes, understood. Good luck, out.”
Gordon switched to the platoon net. He could hear the chatter of his soldiers. “Fourth Platoon, this is Lieutenant Gordon. Let’s move.”
Gordon vacated his command position and saw the two-thirds of a platoon he had left moving toward him. Two wounded soldiers had others helping them.
“LT, what about our dead?” asked a private.
“We can’t take them with us. They’d understand.”
-(o)-
Five minutes later the platoon was in the ravine three hundred and fifty meters behind the top of the hill.
“When the artillery hits we move up the ridgeline to our east,” PSG Fox said. “Move as quietly as you can and keep an eye on each other. We might just get out of here.”
Forty-five seconds later the artillery struck, the sharp airburst explosions banging loudly in the night air.
4th Platoon moved, Fox leading. When they reached the top of the ridge, they turned south.
Privates Baker and Lawson stayed at the point where the platoon had crested the ridge to watch and see if the Pythans followed.
In the distance, to the south, artillery barrages sounded like discordant thunder.
“Sounds like they are fighting in Louistown, or close to it,” SSG Harris said over the platoon net.
“I’m afraid you may be right,” Lieutenant Gordon replied.
“LT, this is Baker. We have a pursuit. An element of two platoons or so, moving fast. They are trailing our course. We’re moving toward you.”
“Roger. should we slow for you?”
“Negative, sir. We’ll catch up.”
As the platoon moved south the tree cover on the ridge grew a little heavier. Tall trees, some form of pine, dominated. There was little undergrowth.
“Coming up from behind, don’t shoot us,” Baker said over the net as the platoon was crossing a clearing.
Lieutenant Gordon went to the rear of the column to speak with them. “Are they gaining on us?”
“They must be, LT. They weren’t going as fast as Lawson and I, but they’ll catch the platoon in a few minutes I would guess.”
“Then we need to slow them down.”
“We can do that, sir.”
“Okay, and I’ll get you some help.”
Gordon came on the platoon net. “Corporal Davis, grab a machine gunner and join me at the rear.”
A minute later the corporal, complete with his grenade launcher equipped rifle, and a machine gunner in tow joined the lieutenant. Gordon told them what the situation was.
“I get it, LT,” the corporal said. “We’ll get them off our back.”
“Set up at the edge of the clearing, this open ground and our superiority in night vision range will give you a big advantage,” the lieutenant said.
“That’s what I had in mind, sir,” Davis said with a grin.
The rest of the platoon moved on as fast as they could. A few minutes later, the rattle of machine gun and rifle fire, accompanied by the thumping explosion of a grenade, broke the silence.
The amount of fire increased for a brief time, and then petered off into silence.
“LT, this is Corporal Davis. We caught them in the middle of the clearing. Hurt them pretty bad with no casualties on our side. We’re going to sit tight for a few minutes and make sure they don’t try again.”
“Roger. Good job,” the lieutenant said.
The sounds of battle near Louistown continued to roll through the woods.
The platoon moved on, slowing when Corporal Davis called to say they were returning, then stopping for a few minutes to give the platoon a rest once the platoon was reformed.
As the platoon was preparing to resume its move, sentries reported the sound of people moving toward them from the west.
“Form a defensive line,” Lieutenant Gordon said over the platoon net. “It has to be Pythans.”
Gordon and the NCO’s directed the soldiers where to dig hasty fighting positions and designated sectors of
fire.
Within minutes, the Pythan force came within the range of night vision of the sentries in front of the defensive line.
“LT, this is Private Hernandez, I think it’s a fair-sized sized force. A couple of platoons at least,” said one of the sentries as he pulled back to the platoon’s line.
“Roger. We will engage them once they come into our night vision. No one fires until I order it. Stay calm and shoot straight,” the lieutenant said.
Gordon saw the first of them move into view, scouts in front of the Pythan force, then a line of men, spread out. Several meters behind them was another line of men.
“Pick your targets and stand by,” he said.
Gordon waited several seconds, then calmly said, “Fire.”
The lieutenant’s visor lit up in green flashes from his soldier’s fire. The Pythan scouts and the men behind them fell, some of them screaming and writhing, as bullets tore through them.
The hollow sound of grenade launchers sounded as well, followed by thudding explosions and more Pythans fell.
The Pythans to 4th Platoon’s left went prone or sought cover behind trees, while their counterparts to the right charged blindly at 4th Platoon’s muzzle blasts.
“Corporal Davis, your team is to engage the force to the left,” Gordon shouted over the platoon net. “Everyone else shift fire right.”
The Pythans laid down a withering amount of fire from their 5mm weapons—short and light, they were built to suit the Pythan style of fighting, move fast and overwhelm using close combat supported by suppressive fire—but their fire was wild and imprecise as they shot at muzzle blasts.
Gordon could see the leader of the enemy force closing with 4th Platoon. The man was in front, directing his men. Gordon brought his rifle up and fired. The Pythan leader stopped and made a half turn, grasping his side.
Gordon fired again and the Pythan fell. Within moments, another man took his place, an NCO Gordon guessed. The man raised his arm and waved it down toward Gordon’s platoon in a gesture that signaled, “follow me”.
The Pythan NCO went down a few steps later, but by now the Pythan assault was at the edge of 4th Platoon’s defensive line.
One of Gordon’s machine gunners rose up and fired a long burst into the charging enemy with a raging yell audible over the blasts of small arms fire. Many Pythans fell, but those still up came on, overrunning the gunner, blasting him with fire just before they were chewed down in turn. The sounds of screaming men from both sides mingled with weapons fire.
The Pythan charge died just inside 4th Platoon’s line.
Before he could utter the order, Gordon’s platoon shifted fire to the Pythan force on the left. Platoon Sergeant Fox pulled the dead machine gunner to the side and took over the weapon.
Within minutes, the remaining Pythans pulled back in disarray, vanishing into the darkness.
“Squad leaders, report,” barked PSG Fox.
“Harris here. Two newly wounded. Will let you know their condition soonest.”
“Corporal Davis here. Sergeant Brown is dead. I guess I’m the only remaining NCO in third squad.”
“You have the squad, Davis” Fox said. “Other casualties?”
“Privates Lawson and Baker have minor wounds. Private Vance was with Brown and is dead also. The rest of the squad was over on the right.”
“Roger that,” Fox said. “LT, we have four dead. I’ll let you know about the wounded as soon as possible.”
“Thanks, Sergeant Fox,” the lieutenant said. “Let’s get our shit together and get ready to move. Everyone who is still alive is getting out of here.”
PSG Fox approached the lieutenant. “Sir, we have four wounded that are going to need help moving, six with minor wounds. We have six unwounded, not counting you or I. I have the men putting together a couple of litters. We ought to be ready to move in a few minutes.”
“Okay, Sergeant,” Gordon said with a pained look, a reaction to 4th Platoon’s losses. “Ammo and water?”
“Water is fine. Ammo is getting low. We can go one more engagement like the last, but not much more. I’d say we should scavenge some of the Pythan weapons and ammo, but we can’t if we are moving the wounded.”
“All right. We’ll try and avoid contact.”
The platoon was on the move a few minutes later. The sounds from Louistown no longer included artillery. Only the rattle of small arms fire carried through the night now.
After moving as fast as they dared for a distance, the platoon stopped. Corporal Davis and Private Baker moved forward to reconnoiter the area.
Lieutenant Gordon went to a private channel with his platoon sergeant.
“Sergeant Fox, what do you think about our move toward Louistown? I’m afraid the town will be in Pythan hands before we reach it.”
“I think you’re right, sir. But where do we go if we don’t move to Louistown? Are we heading for the hills?”
“I don’t know, at least not yet. I’ll see if I can raise the company on the commo net.”
For a few minutes, Gordon tried the company HQ frequency, and receiving no reply, he went to the company open channel. “Any Cobalt element, this is Cobalt-Four, over.”
“Cobalt-Four, this is Cobalt-Five. Nice to hear a friendly voice, over,” came the staticky reply. Gordon recognized the voice of 5th Platoon’s leader, Lieutenant Jackson.
“Five, this is Four. Same. What’s your situation?”
“Four, we are moving toward Louistown from the southwest, but it sounds like the fighting is dying down. I fear it is, or soon will be, in Pythan hands. When we get closer, I’ll send out some troops for a scout. Where are you?”
“Moving toward Louistown from the north. We have numerous wounded, so our mobility is hindered. I think we should rendezvous.”
“I agree, Four. We’ll see what we can discover about the situation in Louistown and then go from there.”
“Roger that, Five. Good luck.”
Lieutenant Gordon saw a small group of soldiers placing one of their fellows on a makeshift litter made from uniform tops and the trunks of small trees.
Gordon walked over to identify the wounded soldier.
Sergeant Harris saw the lieutenant approaching. “It’s Hernandez, sir,” he said. “It’s bad. Patched him up as best we can. Got the docbox on him.”
Gordon nodded, then turned away. He knew there was very little they could do for the wounded but place menders and bandages on the injuries, allow the medical monitor and treatment device—a docbox in soldier’s parlance—to administer medications, blood substitutes, and other substances, follow the suggested procedures, and hope for the best.
PSG Fox approached and stood next to the lieutenant. “LT, we’re just about ready to move,” he said. “We still headed toward the town?”
Gordon nodded and told Fox of 5th Platoon.
“I don’t know what a platoon and a half of us can do on our own, but it’s good to know we aren’t alone,” Fox said.
“I want someone to scout ahead of us as we move, sergeant,” Gordon said.
“Corporal Davis and Private Baker have that job, LT.”
The two soldiers led out with the platoon trailing about a hundred meters behind. Half a kilometer down the trail the platoon halted to switch out litter-bearers and those who were assisting some of the other wounded.
“Sir, we’ve got a couple of Pythan patrols nearby,” Corporal Davis said in a whisper over the platoon net. “One patrol is about fifty meters west of the trail, running parallel it looks like. Another group is farther away to the east. The nearest unit is approximately platoon size. Should we move to your location?”
“Do you have a place of concealment you can utilize?” Gordon asked.
“Already there, sir.”
“Stay put then. If they get too close for voice, use break squelch procedures, understand?”
“Roger that, sir.”
Gordon directed his troops to conceal themselves on the east side of
the trail.
“Everyone stay frosty,” PSG Fox said quietly over the net as the platoon settled into hiding. “They’ll have a devil of a time spotting us. Stay quiet, stay calm, and for the love of Pete, don’t forget to breathe. Unless somebody is standing right next to you, they’ll never hear you.”
The sound of the Pythan patrol became audible to the hidden platoon, growing steadily louder.
“Corporal Davis, can you speak?” Gordon asked in a quiet whisper.
The lieutenant heard a pair of hisses in return. The hisses were caused by Davis keying his transmit button, but not speaking. Two breaks of silence indicated a negative.
“I understand,” Gordon said. “Has the patrol passed your position yet?”
A single hiss was the answer. Yes.
“Roger. Stay put. The patrol is nearing our position, out”
The Pythan patrol came into view, and just as Davis had reported, it was about the size of a Land Forces infantry platoon. The patrol was still paralleling the trail in a column. Gordon could see that only about one-third of the Pythans had night vision.
The Pythans stopped directly across the trail from 4th Platoon. The tension went up. Gordon could see the entire Pythan unit. Each of them armed with a compact magazine-fed weapon, the same as all of the other Pythans they had fought during the night. The weapon was light and small caliber, the high-capacity magazine was oddly-shaped, which the now dead Sergeant Brown had theorized was designed to keep the magazine clear of the operator’s supporting left arm while maintaining weapon balance no matter the ammunition amount in the magazine.
Gordon could hear one of the Pythan soldiers speaking, his voice becoming louder and agitated. Gordon could see him gesticulating with one hand while he held the other to the side of his head.
I guess we aren’t the only ones unhappy with our commanders, Gordon thought, deciding the Pythan speaker was the unit’s leader.
After a minute, the unit began moving once again, eventually going out of visual range to the north.
“Corporal Davis, can you speak?” Gordon said in a whisper.
“Roger, LT. The patrol to the east went northeast. We’re clear as far as we can see.”
“Good. Stand by.”
Conflict: The Pythan War, Invasion Page 2