by Weston Ochse
He sighed and said, “Whatev.”
“No, it’s cool. We all do what we’ve got to do. One of the reasons I bet the Pinkster instituted the new policy of tracking kills and giving personalized call signs was because it made reality into a first person shooter. With your targets separated from you by the EXO’s heads up display, it was like you were playing a video game. It’s called derealization and makes the events happening seem unreal.”
“Then why’d you make us change?” Pearl challenged.
“Because it’s important to be accountable for your actions.”
“Even if it breaks something inside of us?” she asked.
“Who the hell made you a doctor?” Earl asked.
“Who the hell made you a doctor, Lieutenant,” Stranz corrected.
“Yeah.” Earl said. “That.”
Like Earl, I hated being told what my problems were. But that wasn’t going to keep me from telling him and everyone else who was listening. “It’s not like I invented PTSD, but if there was a PTSD ranking system, I’d be Grand Master. Let’s face it. You two were teenagers living the life all teenagers should have. Playing video games, hanging out with friends, going to the mall—”
“That is so ’eighties,” Pearl countered. I could almost see her eyes roll. “No one went to malls anymore except old people doing laps. Everything was networked. All we had to do was choose which app to use and we could hook up with whomever we wanted, whenever we wanted.”
“How’s that working out for you now?” Stranz asked.
“The fact remains,” I cut in, “that you didn’t sign up to be a soldier. Stranz, myself, Charlemagne, we’d all come to terms in the middle of our basic training that one day we’d have to kill or be killed. It was a conscious decision.”
“Hey, we didn’t have to join OMBRA. It was our choice,” Pearl said.
“Had you killed anyone up until then?” I asked.
We all waited for the answer. When it came, it surprised me. “Earl hadn’t,” she said.
“But you did?” I asked.
“It was nothing,” she said in a small voice.
“It’s never nothing,” I said. “Every time you kill someone it means something.”
“Yeah, like a fresh kill. A tick mark on the wall of success,” Earl said.
“And I thought I was messed in the head,” Stranz said.
“Break, break,” Ohirra said across our coms. “Wheels up, then command briefing. Stand by.”
The C-130 taxied, then took off. We weren’t reaching altitude and seemed to level off at about five thousand feet. Ten minutes later, Mr. Pink began his brief.
“We’re going to the Green River Launch Complex in Utah. It’s roughly five hundred miles away. We’ll be there in ninety minutes. All other EXOs have been dispersed and sent forward to Odessa. We twelve are to secure several Khron specimens and return them to Odessa.”
“What’s in Odessa?” I asked.
“A Khron beachhead. It’s a rallying point. They’re giving us the opportunity to fight for our planet.”
“What do you mean by specimens?” Olivares asked.
“Evidently we’ve had Khron specimens since 1947. They want repatriation before they’ll assist us.”
“Wait. 1947?” Ohirra asked. “Are you telling me that we actually have aliens at Roswell?”
“It was before my time,” Mr. Pink said. “The former United States government had in their possession a crashed ship and three dead aliens. They were aware of the Khron as an alien species but had no contact. The ship was a reconnaissance vehicle sent to keep track of human progress and industrialization. They were forbidden first contact with humanity and were merely to watch.”
“Like the prime directive,” Coops added. “You know, like in Star Trek.”
“Oh, you mean that rule they always broke?” Chance asked.
“Can it,” Olivares said over the net.
Mr. Pink continued, “All of this is new to me. HMID Salinas provided the information less than two hours ago. The Khron contacted us and asked us to get their missing… Khron.”
“Why don’t they do that themselves?” I asked. I’d seen how their spaceships moved when it had taken Nance and a spidertank.
“I don’t know but I’ll be sure to ask them when we get there,” Mr. Pink answered.
“What’s ROE?” Olivares asked, meaning Rules of Engagement—basically when we were allowed to shoot and at whom.
“As far as we know the facility is abandoned,” Mr. Pink said. “If there are fungees or enemy combatants, then shoot first. Mason, I’m putting you in charge. Ohirra, you’re with me.”
“What about Jackson and Liebl?” I asked.
“They’re with me as well.”
“Fine. Stranz, you’re in charge of Hero Team One. I’ll be with you, as will Earl, Pearl, and Merlin. Charlemagne, you’re with Hero Team Two. Olivares, if you would?”
“Roger. Team Two will be comprised of Coops, Chance, Charlemagne and myself. Call signs?”
“Let’s not confuse things. We’ll just use names.”
“Roger.”
What followed was forty minutes of verbally running everyone through battle drills, then mentally preparing for possible combat. By the time the pilots announced we were descending, I was actually hoping for action.
Conspiracy theorists of the world, believers in the hidden hands of the Rothschilds and the Masons and the Illuminati, we skeptics owe you an apology. You were right. The players may be a little different, but your basic premise is correct: The world is a rigged game.
Matt Taibbi
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE C-130S LANDED without incident. As it turned out, the Green River Complex was an old launch site for Athena rockets, Pershing missiles, and ICBMs, which were fired to breach the atmosphere and then land at White Sands Missile Range in New Mexico for testing. The facility was nominally shut down in the mid-’seventies, but activity continued at its, until-now, secret underground facilities, evidently of the examining alien specimen variety. From the airfield it looked like an old army base, complete with the rounded roofed Quonset huts and old Cold War cement block buildings.
It was early afternoon with a few scattered clouds. A chain of mountains rose in the east. A small abandoned town surrounded the complex. My HUD didn’t detect any activity, then again it couldn’t see behind or inside any of the buildings.
“What do you think?” Olivares asked.
“You know the drill,” I said.
“Is this really necessary?” Mr. Pink asked.
I could hear the edge in his voice. It was clear he wanted to press on. I didn’t know anything about Jackson or Liebl. Their experience could range from US Army Ranger to Girl Scout. At the very least I expected them to keep Ohirra and Mr. Pink alive, which was what I’d told them.
“There’s a way to go about things that keeps all of my heroes alive. Stranz, you familiar with FM 3.21-8?”
“Roger, sir. I got the field manual locked and cocked in my front brain housing group. Field Manual 3.21-8, The Infantry Rifle Platoon and Squad.”
“Tell me about tactical maneuver, sergeant.”
“‘Tactical maneuver is the way in which infantry platoons and squads apply combat power’,” he said, quoted verbatim from the FM. “‘Its most basic definition is fire plus movement, and is the infantry’s primary tactic when in close combat. Fire without movement is indecisive. Exposed movement without fire is potentially disastrous. Inherent in tactical maneuver is the concept of protection.’”
“So you’re saying we should fire and move all the time?”
“All the time, sir?”
“Like now? We going to fire and move?”
“Negative. This isn’t a tactical maneuver because we’ve yet to locate a target. This is a patrol.”
I nodded, my chest filling with pride as I remembered my own sergeants drilling me on the manual. “So what exactly is the purpose of a patrol?” I asked.<
br />
Olivares responded instead of Stranz. “‘A patrol is a detachment sent out by a larger unit to conduct a specific mission. Patrols operate semi-independently and return to the main body upon completion of their mission. Patrolling fulfills the infantry’s primary function of finding the enemy to either engage him or report his disposition, location, and actions. Patrols act as both the eyes and ears of the larger unit and as a fist to deliver a sharp, devastating jab and then withdraw before the enemy can recover.’”
“That’s good, man. Real good. Olivares, you’re going to be the right fist and my squad will be the left fist.” To Mr. Pink I added, “You four should stay with me but have a standoff of at least ten meters.” I eyeballed Jackson and Liebl. “Do you two understand?”
Neither responded, which pissed me off, but before I could say anything, Ohirra spoke up.
“We got it, Mason. Let’s Charlie Mike.”
I nodded. The dramatic demonstration of infantry knowledge notwithstanding, the plan was for Olivares to take his squad and conduct a reconnaissance patrol to the right along a fixed route, while my squad would do the same on the left. Mr. Pink had provided us schematics of the base, along with a schematic of the central building that provided access to the UGF. The specimens were located seventeen stories down.
Olivares called me on a private channel. “Watch out for those two. Dirtbags make my hackles rise. They’re blue falcons all the way.”
I keyed to private and replied, “WILCO. Same to you.”
We were exactly two kilometers from our target goal. Between us and the building were several Quonset huts. Each squad was going to use a wedge formation and conduct traveling overwatch, which meant we believed enemy contact to be possible, but not likely. The difference between bounding overwatch, where enemy contact was likely, was that we weren’t stopping and observing before moving on, instead, we were going to be tactically walking. I’d ordered all EXOs to have their miniguns ready except for one per squad, who was to be ready to target possible enemies with the hydra rockets.
I deployed Merlin between both formations, to go right up the middle. I did that for two reasons. One, he had barely any experience using the spidertank, and two, I wanted both squads to be able to cover him if there actually was an enemy lying in wait.
The most dangerous area came at the very beginning where we had to cross the airfield, a highway, and breach the fence that still ran around the perimeter of the complex. It would put us out in the open for thirty seconds if we ran, or two minutes if we walked. The choice was easy. We were going to run.
“Merlin, are you ready?” I asked over the net.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Okay then, let’s move out.”
Both squads broke into a jog.
Merlin moved the spidertank in a series of forward jerks which I supposed approximated a giant spider jog.
Mr. Pink and his command element let us make some distance, then jogged as well.
I lived for moments like this, where an enemy might be around any corner, waiting, ready and hoping to take you out before you take them out. Back before when the world was filled with Happy Meals, pepperoni pizzas delivered to your door, and honest-to-God paparazzi chasing movie stars like what they ate and where they shit was important. Back when knowing I could be shot by a sniper’s bullet without even realizing it had been my greatest fear. For all of their juvenile flaws, the twins were right—the EXOs were like living in a video game. They made war easier to survive. Where before a sniper’s bullet would’ve removed me from the land of the living, now it would only serve as a notification of distance and direction to a new target, all computed by the Heads Up Displays in our suits.
I scanned visually and electronically as I traveled across the space. Any movement would be immediately detected by my EXO. We were halfway across the intervening space when I got a red flash on my HUD.
“Squad advise left quadrant motion,” I said as I kept moving.
My HUD flashed again and I brought my minigun around to fire just as a three point buck leaped from behind a building and bounded across a road and into the woods.
“Just Bambi’s older brother,” I said, returning my weapon forward.
The complex seemed completely abandoned. With the exception of the deer, I hadn’t seen any birds or small animals. Certainly no people.
We crossed the road and reached the fence. We didn’t have anything fancy to cut through it so we just reached out and ripped it down.
Then my HUD lit up with dozens of red highlights, showing incoming fire from several locations inside the complex. Earl went down. I gaze-flicked and toggled Pearl’s hydra before she could toggle it herself and sent six rockets on a trajectory to where the rounds came from.
“Forward to the wall,” I shouted over the net to my squad, pointing at a single story concrete block building.
I heard Olivares shouting the same and noted that they were under fire as well.
Merlin tore through the fence and raised his acoustic disc. His Dishka deployed from the hood and began to move back and forth, seeking targets.
I ran and slammed my back into the wall hard enough to make dust rain down. My HUD had plotted the trajectory and I peered around the corner to let my radar see what was there, but all I saw was a smoking ruin of a building. When I turned back around, Pearl and Stranz were helping Earl to the wall. I dialed up his vitals and they were at a hundred percent, but the right leg of his suit was shot. It looked as if the round had hit the knee joint.
To Stranz, I asked, “Is there any way you can fix his leg?”
“See what I can do.” he answered.
Olivares was taking heavy fire. No one had been hit, but it seemed like it was only a matter of time. His squad had already fired several rockets, but to no avail. I dialed into his command channel and POV, and saw several distant shapes inside the complex that the HUD labeled UNK EXO—unknown exoskeleton.
“Ohirra, report,” I said over the private channel.
“We’ve gone to ground. No one is hit. Who are they?”
“Don’t know yet. Do you have any intel on other orgs having EXOs?”
“NUSNA has some prototypes, but nothing working.”
“We’ll see about that. Keep your head down.”
The Dishka opened up, a slower but louder TAT TAT TAT than what our miniguns produced, but with a lot more power. I switched to Merlin’s POV just in time to see something the size of a dog blown to high heaven.
“Merlin, what the hell was that?”
“Looked like a dog without a head.”
I’d shoot something like that as well.
I dialed up the command channel and broadcast to all EXOs. “Enemy combatants include UGOs and EXOs of unknown origin. UGOs appear to be canine-sized with four legs and no head.”
“Did he just say no head?” Earl asked in the clear.
“Stay off command net unless you have something to say,” snapped Stranz.
I didn’t notice it arrive. One moment there was nothing there, the next it was standing forty feet away. At first it seemed innocuous. A metal contraption on four legs about the size of a large dog. On its back was an oblong shape I couldn’t identify. I couldn’t even tell which was the front and which was the rear. Then it began to move, first by lowering itself about a foot. As it did, the legs bent in one direction and it began to stalk towards us. The legs were bent like a dog’s, so the knees pointed backwards. I was mesmerized by it right up until the oblong shape on its back rose, resolved itself into a light machine gun, and began to fire.
I took three in the chest before I cranked my minigun in response. But even as I fired, it moved behind the corner of a building. I considered sending a snap of my video feed to everyone, but by the increased chatter on the command channel it became evident that they were now well aware of the new threat.
“We’ve got to move now,” I said to Olivares. “We’re sitting ducks.”
“What’s the pla
n?” he asked.
“Fire seems concentrated in your area. Increase your rates of fire and let us see if we can flank.”
“Anytime you want to get froggy, then jump,” he replied, voice tight.
I toggled Mr. Pink. “I need Liebl and Jackson OPCON to me now.”
He paused as if he was about to argue, then said, “Roger.”
I watched as the two immense red EXOs rose from a depression in the earth and sprinted in my direction.
“Stranz, is he mobile yet?”
“No doing, boss. They scored a one in a million shot. This EXO ain’t moving without Third Shop repairs.”
That wasn’t good. I couldn’t just leave him sitting here. I called Ohirra and let her know the situation. She promised to have his six as best she could.
To everyone else I said, “We’re going to React to Ambush Far and flank the attackers. Watch out for UGOs. Formation is double column. Speed is optimum. Merlin, form up on Olivares and concentrate fire.”
Pearl formed up beside me.
Liebl and Jackson behind us.
“Earl, if any targets pop on your HUD, send a rocket after them, but remember to give it time to arm.”
He sent acknowledgement.
To the squad, I said, “Fire at anything that isn’t us. Ready. Steady. Move!”
We broke into a synchronized run. I had my minigun ready on my right side and pulled my harmonic blade free on the left. I’d marked the route on a wire diagram and made it available as a popup on everyone’s HUD. Three buildings forward, then left seven buildings should put us on the enemy’s flank. The only question was what would we encounter before we got there? That question received an immediate answer as another UGO appeared in front of us.
Stranz took it out with grazing fire from his minigun.
Liebl shouted, “On the roof,” and opened fire, targeting something above us.
Jackson joined him.
A rocket whizzed past us as we crossed the space between buildings, taking out a UGO that appeared in front of us.
Pearl fired a volley of rounds and exploded another one in mid-air as it leaped from the roof of a two story building.