Last Man Out (Poor Man's Fight Book 5)

by Elliott Kay

  The loud crack of air heated by a Regent’s laser confirmed her warning. Shattering glass and the rattle of falling debris trailed the sound. Keeping his head low, Chen peered over the side to find the group of raiders and Regents walking up the middle of the street with shields arrayed in a half-circle.

  This was only a small group. Light and noise from a larger battle flared up in the slums only a couple of kilometers to the north. Of course Precision decided to make a stand there, Chen figured. It wasn’t far from one of the gates, so it was a spot worth defending, but the authorities didn’t care much for anything or anyone caught in the crossfire, either.

  It was exactly why Chen and his people worked to clear those people out. Now he had to get them the rest of the way to safety.

  “They might pass us by,” whispered Kristi. “Maybe they’re moving around to flank the fight in the slums?”

  “Not moving fast enough,” said Chen. “They’re hunting. And the intersection curves them right down towards us.” He thought fast, looking up and down the street again. Kristi and Zhi had been ordered to avoid engagement with good reason. Now Chen saw no way to avoid it. He also saw no reason they should pay for the consequences.

  “Give me the handset,” he said, taking the other end of the communications line from Zhi. He set his rifle down. “And the launcher.”

  “What?” Zhi blinked.

  “Robbie, this is Chen,” their leader said into the handset. “Get ‘em moving. Go now.” He pushed the set back into Zhi’s hands. “Go catch up. I’ll follow.”

  “No way. I’m staying with you.”

  “This is a solo job. Nobody else needs to be exposed. I can’t ask you to do it for me. Go.”

  Kristi’s scowl nearly made Chen forget his bigger problems. “You need someone to cover on the way out if it goes bad and you don’t have time to argue,” she said.

  Zhi settled in with his rifle. “Might want to shoot fast before they spot us,” he suggested.

  “As long as we’re all clear on who’s in charge here,” Chen muttered. He keyed up the control suite on the launcher before bringing it to his shoulder, knowing he’d have no time to adjust if the enemy saw him. With his targets in the middle of a street, he didn’t want a wide blast zone. If anyone else was nearby, they at least had the warning from the Regent’s own weapon.

  Chen rose with the launcher over his shoulder. Seemingly in the same second, both Regents turned their glowing eyes to the rooftop. Any chance to aim or adjust vanished. Chen put the crosshairs in the middle of the group and fired.

  He couldn’t tell the difference between the kick of the missile’s launch and the resultant blast in the street. The wave of heat and concussive force pushed Chen back from the rooftop’s ledge along with his comrades. Finding himself on his back, he realized he could still feel and hear everything. “Everyone okay?”

  “Yeah,” said Zhi.

  “No,” grunted Kristi. “Damn it.”

  Chen rolled off his back to find Kristi sitting upright with a nasty shrapnel wound in her left shoulder. It looked ugly, but survivable.

  Kristi’s injury got his first look. The enemy in the street got his second. Amid smoke and haze, he saw pieces of Regent and shattered Minoan armor along with more gruesome remains strewn about a crater in the pavement. At a glance, it looked like he had gotten them all. It would have to do for a battle damage assessment.

  “Let me get your coat off,” said Chen, turning back to Kristi. “I need a better look. Zhi, keep an eye out. We’ll be lucky if that blast doesn’t draw attention our way.”

  “We’ve got more missiles if that happens,” said the other man.

  “They’ll knock the building down underneath us, Zhi,” grunted Kristi. She inhaled sharply as Chen peeled away her coat. “We can’t stay and fight here like this.”

  “Think we can move you,” said Chen. “We can get away with wrapping this until you’re in a safer spot. It doesn’t look too bad.”

  “Can you even see what you’re doing?” asked Kristi. “The lowlight option on your glasses isn’t the same as a surgery room.”

  Chen cut one sleeve from her coat and wrapped it around her shoulder to limit the bleeding. “If I need more light, all I have to do is wait for the next explosion.”

  As if on cue, the sky let out a loud crack overhead, followed in quick succession by several more. Despite the intense noise, even those booms nearly went unnoticed amid the sounds of fighting throughout the city—until a red beam from the sky ignited an explosion over in the slums.

  Lights streaked through the sky overhead, breaking through the clouds. Another bright flash of laser fire shot from the lead flyer to cut another line of explosive flames through the edge of the slums. The streaks of light curved around the city with shocking speed.

  “Oh my god, are those starships? Why do they look like that?” asked Zhi.

  “It’s shockwaves from the air around them,” said Chen. “They’re going supersonic. Probably by a lot,” he added. They had to be very low to stay under the ash-laden clouds covering the sky. One of the lights broke off from the rest, speeding straight for the city before another peeled off to parallel its path.

  The leader broke off next. The shockwaves ended, suggesting a rapid deceleration that still left it moving at incredible speed. Flashes of weapons fire lit up the underside of the winged ship as it flew overhead. The vessel added to that light with its own guns, firing away at points along the battle in the slums.

  The corvette didn’t belong to Precision Solutions. Chen saw Archangel markings on her wings—and the seal of the Union Fleet.

  “Did you see that?” Zhi exclaimed. “Is that for real?”

  “How in the hell did they get here so fast?” Chen wondered out loud. “They had to have been on their way almost as soon as this started. Maybe before.”

  “Uh. Bleeding here,” said Kristi.

  “Go, I’ve got this,” Zhi answered to Chen’s questioning look. “Do what you need.”

  Chen found the handset. He snatched it up and turned his eyes back to the sky. At least one of the flyers had to be a shuttle. The boxy vessel dropped into the city not far from the slums, where the fight raged on. “Who’s on the line? Somebody talk to me. It’s Chen.”

  “Hey, it’s Mike,” came the reply. Voices and shuffling in the background suggested a busy scene. “We’re almost done moving across the street. Half of ‘em are in the tunnel now. What the hell is going on out there?”

  “Somebody’s landing shuttles. Union Fleet markings. Kristi is hurt up here and I need someone else to come help her back. Bring an aid kit.”

  “On it. What about the Fleet guys?”

  “That’s why I’m calling. Can you spare anyone? We need to make contact.”

  * * *

  “It’s chaotic as hell, the weather or some sort of jamming is screwing with signals, and it’s nighttime. Keep your head and try to stay in visual contact with someone else from the unit.” Lieutenant Torres remained strapped in his seat to deliver his briefing. Everyone heard him over their helmet earpieces—at least as long as they were all in the shuttle. “Don’t lose your cool. Aim before you shoot. Watch for friendly fire.”

  “Lieutenant, are we sure about who we’re fighting?” asked Corporal Ball of first squad. Most of the platoon likely shared her question. “All we’ve got is ‘humanoid aliens in black armor and robots.’ Some of Lai Wa’s guys wear black armor. How do we know nobody else on this planet wears it, too?”

  “I don’t have anything more than you do, corporal,” said Torres. “Our job is to defend the city and the populace. Presumably local forces are on our side. St. Catherine hit a couple enemy positions to clear the way in, so we’re about to drop.”

  “How did they identify the enemy from up here?” wondered one of Ball’s gunners, a stocky guy named Rodriguez.

  Torres put up his hand to cut him off. He tilted his head lower, listening to urgent chatter from the cockpit. An overhead
map of the city appeared in a holo projection practically over his lap, complete with a reference grid.

  Alicia took the question. “It looks like the bad guys shoot with a lot of yellow. Don’t take that for granted, but it’s a start. When in doubt, look at how the other guy behaves. The risk of friendly fire is high. That’s why we need to keep our heads.”

  “Understood,” Torres said to the cockpit. “Bring us in at grid point November-niner. Should be enough room in that intersection. Yes, face us north.”

  Wait, intersection? Alicia thought, looking down to his map.

  Janeka saw the problem, too. “Sir, that’s well inside the city. If we land three klicks out we’ll be on the outskirts for a safer insertion.”

  “Second Platoon is going in close to the corporate core. We can’t do any less,” said Torres.

  “That’s a calculated risk to contact local leadership, sir. Everyone else is supposed to insert in the clear and move in.”

  “This is where the fighting is, gunny. We’re dropping in to flank the enemy. That’s as good as it gets.” Torres didn’t sound interested in arguing. “Alright, First Platoon! We’ve picked up a call for help from some Precision Solutions guys under fire. It’s choppy, but we have a location. We’re going in hot. We land facing north with the enemy a couple city blocks ahead of us.”

  Alicia’s eyes widened as she looked at the map. Even a low-gravity drop on a rooftop might be better than the intersection. “Lieutenant, what if—?”

  “If we keep taking questions, we’ll never deploy,” he interrupted. “Stick with first squad.” He said nothing more, turning to his weapon instead. Alicia pulled hers from the rack. That brought her eyes to her other side.

  “Stay tied in with us so you know what’s going on,” she heard Janeka tell Mendez. “Unless you hear otherwise, you stay on the shuttle.”

  “Aye, aye, gunny. Fine by me,” he said. “I’m okay with helping if I can, too. I’m qualified. And I’m already here.”

  “You aren’t integrated with the platoon, crewman,” said Janeka.

  “Yes, ma—aye, aye, gunny,” he stammered again.

  Alicia bit her lip. She was glad he caught himself before responding to her as an officer. This mission didn’t need to get ugly before the shuttle doors opened.

  The touchdown warning broke her from that train of thought, followed by the jostling thump of landing struts against the ground only seconds later. Long doors at both sides and the rear of the shuttle opened into shattered streets covered in ash. The doors provided a little cover to starboard and port as marines tumbled out of quick-release seats and into the noise of battle at night. Ugly experience during the war with NorthStar had reinforced a rule that should’ve been remembered from far older wars: never open the doors into enemy fire.

  “Second squad, with me!” Torres bellowed, charging out of the shuttle.

  “First, let’s go!” shouted Sergeant Domingo. Torres took second out the shuttle’s starboard side. Alicia followed Domingo and first out to port, with Janeka close by her side. Third and fourth hustled out the back.

  Corporal Ball stopped at the edge of the long door to peer around with the camera on her rifle. “Down!” she warned, right as a red beam cut through the shuttle door from bottom to top, severing it from the shuttle. Everyone fell to their knees or even further as the door slammed down to the ground and then began to fall back. Alicia surged up to keep the now unsupported hunk of metal upright. To her instant relief, Rodriguez and Janeka had the same instincts. She’d never have held it up on her own.

  Disaster struck on the other side of the shuttle almost as quickly. Alicia looked through the mostly empty passenger bay to see the other door fall away under the same cutting laser, only it fell forward to expose second squad to heavy fire. A yellow flash took someone down almost instantly, blowing straight through the man’s hip.

  She recognized Torres by his scream.

  “Return fire! Return fire, god damn it,” Janeka demanded.

  Ball was on it at the other end of the severed door. She sprayed bullets from her assault rifle out into the night, but Alicia knew nothing of her targets. Alicia realized she wasn’t doing much good in holding up the door, either; athletic as she was, people like Janeka and Rodriguez were bigger and stronger. She abandoned her spot to sweep around Janeka, poking her rifle between the slab of metal and the shuttle in search of a target. Unlike Ball, she didn’t use her camera. The cover provided by the door would have to be enough.

  Two tall, oddly proportioned humanoid shapes stood behind burned-out cars in the road. Red lights glowed on their faces. One such light blasted straight into the front of the shuttle. Alicia crouched reflexively as the beam cut through the cockpit canopy. She looked back to see Mendez hunched over in his seat even after the beam died.

  Thoughts of Mendez fell away as things got worse for second squad on the other side of the shuttle. Through the open cabin, Alicia saw more people down than Torres. They’d all gone too far out too fast. More yellow rays found their marks.

  The nearest man to the shuttle fired his weapon until he was slammed backward by a figure bursting into view with a black shield. Yellow beams shot from the figure’s opposite wrist until something in his hand extended into a spear. The armored figure turned, his head tilted down at either Torres or someone else at his feet.

  Then a leg fell in Alicia’s way. Two legs. Mendez was out of his seat, tearing into the enemy with his rifle. He kept firing after the one with the spear fell, with no shortage of targets.

  Alicia left him to it. She had her own problems and her own bad guys to shoot at. Both of the humanoid figures advanced out from behind their cover, and they weren’t alone. “Grenades,” Alicia barked. “Grenades over the side. Throw high and far. Ball, suppressive fire!”

  She didn’t wait to see if anyone obeyed. Lying on the pavement, Alicia let her rifle rip against the oncoming enemies. The low plane of the ground under the shuttle’s nose offered the clearest lane of fire. Her plan bore fruit as one of the black-armored figures fell from a bullet that clipped his leg below his shield. The rest slammed their shields down onto the ground and ducked behind them for cover. Everything else was mostly sparks against black slabs until the first small orb bounced into view in the street.

  Alicia rolled back in a ball, practically making a backwards somersault in her scramble to get behind the cover provided by the shuttle door. A ripple of explosions shook the air. Debris flew over the severed shuttle door, but nothing dangerous came down on her or the others.

  Before Alicia made it off her back, Janeka swept around her side of the shuttle door. One short burst after another erupted from her weapon. On her feet now, Alicia looked through the shuttle cabin to second squad and their troubles. Covering fire shot past from the rear of the shuttle, with third and fourth squads now collected enough to shoot back, but much of second remained down.

  The one person she could make out stood right at the other side of the shuttle. Mendez hefted Torres up with both arms under the lieutenant’s shoulders, dragging him back into the passenger bay while firing his weapon to provide his own suppression. Alicia launched herself up into the passenger bay and across its short width to help.

  She found fewer targets there than she expected. Three of the black-armored enemy lay bleeding on the pavement. None stood in her immediate view except for a final raider crouching behind his shield, withdrawing steadily until cut down by someone with an assault rifle on the other side of the shuttle. Janeka, she realized. While everyone else was still at or behind the shuttle, the gunny advanced on her own.

  “You got him?” Alicia grunted toward Mendez.

  “Yeah. I’m good.”

  It was all she could afford. Alicia slipped down around the other end of the shuttle to look forward. Their flanks had to be clear for now or they’d already be in worse trouble. In front of the shuttle, Alicia saw Janeka make the best of the disruption caused by the barrage of grenades. She practicall
y executed enemy troops knocked to the ground one by one in a steady but quick advance to the burning cars where the robots had been.

  Instead of robots, she saw rubble. Either the grenades had done the trick or someone had followed up while Alicia wasn’t looking. Maybe both.

  “Oh shit, Johnson is down,” somebody called out nearby. “Johnson and Evans are down!”

  The two men lay nearby. So did much of second squad. The survivors picked themselves up off the pavement. Alicia looked first to Janeka, but the gunny was already calling up a couple of others to help her check the forward buildings. She thought next to find Torres, but he was on the deck in the passenger bay with Mendez frantically sorting through an open aid kit beside him. The lieutenant didn’t seem conscious.

  Understanding hit her like a punch to the gut. “Aw, fuck,” she said. Gulped. Took a breath. Turned to work. “Third and fourth squad, form a perimeter,” Alicia ordered. “First squad, come over here to help second with the wounded. And somebody check on the flight crew.”

  “Where’s the LT?” came a voice from the rear of the shuttle.

  “Torres is down,” said Alicia.

  “Oh shit,” someone gasped.

  “He’s still hanging on,” called Mendez. “I could really use a corpsman!”

  “Corpsman Dahm,” Alicia echoed, then bit back the rest of it when she spotted him hovering over another wounded man from second squad. “When you can.”

  “On it, ma’am,” came the response.

  “Shit, does that put Wong in charge?” somebody asked.

  “Yes, it does,” crackled Janeka’s voice over the platoon net. “Miss Wong is platoon leader until and unless the lieutenant recovers. You heard her orders.”

  “Fine by me,” said Rodriguez. He climbed through the shuttle to help on the other side. “She chewed the same dirt as the rest of us before this shit.”

  “That was a good call with the grenades, ma’am,” added Corporal Ball. “And with bringing Mendez, apparently.”

  Alicia bit her lip. She knew she’d hear curses and complaints. She didn’t expect immediate support. Almost as soon as she considered it, she realized that was silly. This was part of being a sergeant, or a corporal for that matter. This was how it was supposed to work. And it wasn’t as if she’d been gone all that long. They knew Torres, but they knew her, too.