The young trooper shrugged. ‘Our dropships will get us.’
‘Will they?’ I asked. ‘Don’t count on it … not if the drop zone is too hot. Our dropships won’t come near here, so we’ll be running through the marsh again, but this time with the Loyalists on our tail. We need the Guard to succeed.’
Myers muttered something about hating the Guard, and I chose to leave him to it, turning back to Puppy.
‘He’s a bit shook up still,’ Puppy whispered reassuringly. ‘He’ll be alright.’
The battle raged on whilst we waited in the bunker, slowly getting colder and colder. The morning sun began to light the clouds into a dull grey, but the rain was relentless, endlessly beating down upon us. Our combats were so wet that they became incapable of keeping us warm, and several troopers were beginning to shiver from the prolonged period of inactivity. I had them take out a couple of thermal sheets to construct a shelter, and had the men rotate through it to keep out of the elements, even if only for a few minutes at a time.
We kept ourselves alert by watching the fight for the hill, and I passed on messages from Mr Barkley, keeping everyone constantly updated with what was happening on the battlefield.
The Guard met heavy resistance once they reached the centre of the hill, as more Loyalists emerged from the warren. The subterranean fortress had served its purpose of keeping them alive during the attack from the air, and now they were using several different entrances across the hill to try to attack from all directions, creating confusion. There were far too many Guardsmen for their ploy to have any lasting effect, however. There was an entire battalion of them - three rifle companies and a support company armed to the teeth with automated guns, missile launchers and armoured suits. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, the FEA battalion arrived, and the horde of child soldiers were led through the trenches by the Guard, and then poured into the warren in an unstoppable human wave.
The sound of gunfire subsided across the hilltop as the battle descended underground. Instead, the Guard exchanged pot-shots with targets in the village.
The Loyalists appeared to be beaten, their defence quickly turning into a hasty retreat into the warren - which presumably opened into the village itself. From there they would flee into the forest, crossing the border and leaving the Guard to their prize.
We watched as a massive plume of earth leapt from the centre of the hill like an erupting volcano - no doubt the result of the Loyalists detonating explosives within one of their tunnels to slow down the FEA and protect their withdrawal. I felt a wave of pity for the young conscripts. Poorly-trained, poorly-led, and absolutely terrified, they would probably succeed in clearing the warren, but at terrible cost. I couldn’t imagine the suffering that they would endure down there … at least I had known what I was doing when I’d last fought in one.
‘Fuck being FEA,’ Skelton said, shaking his head sadly at the pillar of smoke that now billowed from where the ground had erupted.
Suddenly there was a string of explosions on the far side of the hill, but this time they were on the surface. I craned my neck to see what was happening. The curvature of the summit prevented me from seeing the site of the explosions, but I could see that they were equally spaced, as if something had strafed along the far slope.
Shouts rang out across the hill as a fresh battle began. Several missiles were launched from within the trenches, screaming toward the north in search of their targets, but they all exploded mid-flight, shot out of the sky by something unseen on the far slope.
There were more explosions, and more voices called out in alarm.
‘What’s going on over there?’ Puppy asked, squinting through the rain.
I shook my head. ‘I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound good.’
I walked over to the edge of the bunker and clambered onto the rubble for a better look. Smoke swirled across the hilltop, mixing with the rain to make visibility extremely difficult, but through the veil I could just make out the shape of something I hadn’t seen in the Bosque before. My eyes widened in surprise … it was a Loyalist LSV.
‘Shit …’ I exclaimed.
‘What?’ Puppy joined me, and then his jaw hung open. ‘Oh. Shit.’
9
Anti-Armour
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I left Puppy to prepare the section to move off, running back to the junction where Mr Barkley had called for his commanders. The ground continually thumped as the Loyalist LSV’s hammered the northern edge of the hill with smart missiles and sprayed the trenches with their Vulcan cannon.
The sergeant major and Corporal Kamara were already with the platoon commander by the time I arrived, concerned looks upon their faces.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked, as I crouched next to them, trying to keep my backside out of the rising water in the trench.
‘It seems the Militia aren’t as willing to withdraw as their regular Loyalist counterparts.’ Mr Barkley explained. ‘They have launched a counterattack using the LSV’s they had been using to ferry equipment out of the warren. I’m trying to find out more information, but the Guard hierarchy are being particularly difficult.’ He looked to his signaller. ‘Any news?’
The platoon signaller shook his head. ‘I might as well find a tree and talk to that instead. Their battalion headquarters are just getting annoyed with me asking what’s going on, and they’re refusing to allow us to call in the saucers.’
Mr Barkley frowned. ‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘No explanation. Their headquarters talk like they’re happy everything is under control, but I’ve listened to their company nets and they sound totally different. There’s a lot of frantic chatter and my headset’s struggling to translate. They’re flapping a bit. They keep saying there are “many LSV’s with soldiers”, and that’s it.’
Corporal Abdi joined us, stealing a quick glance above the lip of the trench before squatting next to me. He gave me a nudge, raising a questioning eyebrow at the sudden change in situation; I shrugged.
Mr Barkley ignored his arrival, pressing the signaller for more information. ‘Which company is in contact?’
‘It sounds like Two and Three Company,’ the signaller answered. ‘Their nets are full of battle data, but it’s all incompatible with our net, so I can’t make much sense out of it. One Company are back with battalion headquarters - who are located at the southernmost warren entrance - I think they’re helping the FEA clear the warren.’
Well, at least they haven’t left the FEA on their own, I thought to myself, they’ll need all the help they can get.
‘What is the location of Support Company?’ Mr Barkley asked.
‘I’m not sure. I think they’re spread around the centre of the hill.’
‘They’d better not be,’ the platoon commander replied in alarm. ‘They should be around the edge, making use of the high ground!’
‘I can’t be sure, boss. I can’t read their battle data-only messages.’
Mr Barkley thought for a moment, and then turned to us.
‘I’m not happy with this,’ he said. ‘All we know at the moment is that the Guard are under attack from the north, and that the attackers are Militia mounted in LSV’s. The Guard headquarters might well believe that they can handle this situation on their own, but I’m not willing to sit around here waiting to find out. I want you to take your sections and move forward independently, until you’re in a position to observe the battle and find out what the Guard are doing. Corporal Moralee, you will take your section up the western edge of the hill. Corporal Abdi will take the east. And Corporal Kamara will take Four Section up the centre. Meanwhile, I will move up to battalion headquarters and try to get a face-to-face with them. Any questions?’
‘What do we do if we get the opportunity to engage?’ Corporal Abdi asked.
‘Ask me first, unless it’s an act of self-defence. We need to play this carefully. We need the Guard to succeed, but we don’t want to alienate them in the process. Remember, we
still have the saucers, so you still have a huge amount of firepower at your disposal. Report to me constantly, and if you think you can provide assistance without causing an international incident, then let me know, and I’ll try to get you the green light through the Guard headquarters. Anything else?’ He looked to the sergeant major.
‘I’ll remain back here with Three Section,’ the sergeant major said. ‘If you need resupply or casualty evacuation, get on the net and I’ll come to you.’
We nodded grimly. We all knew why the sergeant major needed to hold back with one of the section: to keep eyes onto the rear of the hill - our escape route if things went wrong.
‘OK,’ Mr Barkley nodded, signalling that the brief was over. ‘Let’s go.’
I moved away from the junction, and then used the section net to close my men in to me. Puppy already had them ready to go, and only seconds after my call I had the entire section before me, closed tightly together to hear my brief. They were all completely soaked.
The section listened weary-eyed as I quickly explained to them the situation and the platoon commander’s plan. Several troopers, particularly Myers and Griffiths, looked dismayed at the need for us to continue helping the Guard, quietly grumbling and moaning during my briefing.
I tried to ignore their complaints, my blood beginning to boil. It didn’t matter why we were working with the Guard anymore - we were on the ground and committed - did these idiots not know what would happen if the Guard failed?
‘Why does a platoon of us have to help an entire battalion of these bastards?’ Myers demanded.
That was it. I knew that Myers had had a close call earlier, but enough was enough.
I snapped, jutting a finger at him, causing him to jump.
‘I don’t fucking know, Myers! All I know is that if the Guard die, we all die with them!’ I yelled.
The section looked stunned at my sudden outburst – and I kept my finger held up at Myers like a gun.
‘You’re starting to fucking piss me off!’ I added. ‘Get a grip!’
Myers’s eyelids fluttered, his nervous twitch going haywire as I glared at him. I could tell I had hurt him, but I didn’t care - now wasn’t the time for moaning or whinging, it was a time for action. If the Loyalists and their LSV’s swept us off the hill then our attack would quickly turn into a massacre, with little chance of EJOC or brigade intervening.
I looked across the men of my section, willing somebody to challenge me.
‘Prepare to move!’ I said.
There were no more disgruntled murmurs whilst they automatically checked their pouches and rifles.
‘Follow me,’ I then ordered.
I stood and marched off through the trench.
Once we passed the T-junction and turned the first bend toward the north, the trench system became far more complex. There were countless junctions, destroyed bunkers and tunnels - many of which were occupied with teams of Guardsmen or frightened groups of FEA soldiers waiting to descend into the warren. I kept the section as far to the west as I could so that I didn’t get in the way of the other two sections, occasionally having to double back as I reached a dead end.
We waded through the water that ran through the maze cut out of the hill. The trenches were now so deep that some sections had even developed a strong current, turning into rivers that we had to fight against just to stay upright.
The number of Guardsmen increased as we drew near to the sound of battle, and I presumed that I was passing the reserve platoon for one of the lead companies. Most of them were taking cover from the constant spray of Vulcan fire from the robotic vehicles attacking from the north. They looked like drowned rats - soaking wet and caked in mud - and their sorry state told of the intensity of their fight through the trench system. The bodies of their fallen comrades bobbed in the water amongst them, some face down, others on their backs staring up at the dark, clouded sky.
The Guardsmen watched us as we filed past them, their eyes portraying a mixture of fear and frustration at the sudden stall of their attack. I knew they were probably asking the same question as Myers had: why were a section of Union troopers advancing past them, stepping over the bodies of their mates, to take control of a battle they could win on their own?
I shared their confusion - though I wasn’t about to admit it. There were so many Guardsmen on the hill they could easily finish the job and seize it, and then spread their support company along its edges and hammer anything that moved on the low ground. Something didn’t feel right. It was if the whole attack had stopped, and suddenly the Guard were on the defensive. If they didn’t hold onto the hill, then the FEA battalion landing in the forest south of Cellini would have no fire support, and would take horrendous casualties attempting to capture the village - if they even succeeded at all.
We had passed the last section of the reserve platoon when I stopped, peering over the lip of the trench to see how far we were from the frontline. I could hear gunfire less than fifty metres away, but I couldn’t see anyone from such a low viewpoint. Several destroyed LSV’s were visible on the skyline, some smouldering whilst others burned fiercely, suggesting that the Guard had at least managed to destroy some of the robotic vehicles.
‘They should have taken the whole hill by now,’ Puppy said over the section net, slightly out of breath. He was easily the shortest of all of us, and the fight through the deep water must have been far harder for him than it was for the rest of us.
‘It doesn’t look like they have, though,’ I replied. ‘I’d say they’re twenty, maybe thirty metres short.’
‘Why would they stop there? There are no more LSV’s, and they’ve got tonnes of troops!’
I considered the question. I doubted that the commander of the company ahead of us was an idiot, nor was he suicidal - he had chosen to stop his advance for a reason.
‘Not enough range,’ I concluded. ‘They only have regular smart missiles in their companies, and probably not many of them either. An LSV Vulcan can shoot a missile right out of the sky, so their best bet is to fire them from short range …’
‘As they come up over the hill,’ he finished.
‘Yeah. It’s what we’d do.’
‘So where’s the support company? They should have automated guns, stacks of missiles –’
‘I’m not sure, mate, but until they get up here, we have a problem.’
I checked over my shoulder that the rest of the section was behind us, catching Myers in the eye as I did so.
‘We’re close to the enemy,’ I warned the young trooper. ‘Stay alert.’
He nodded. I couldn’t tell if he was angry at me. Not that it mattered. He needed to remember his place.
Satisfied that we hadn’t left anyone behind, I pressed onward, negotiating the labyrinth of trenches toward the sound of battle.
It sounded as though the Guard were exchanging fire, presumably with the Militiamen who had rode up the hill in the back of the LSV’s. I lifted my rifle, wary of the danger of coming face to face with another enemy platoon. Trench warfare was almost as confusing and disorientating as fighting in the warrens below ground, so anything was possible.
We’d moved another twenty metres or so when I heard urgent shouting from somewhere ahead of us. I froze, waiting for the voice to be translated.
My headset made no effort to convey the urgency of the voice it translated: ‘There are more LSV’s heading toward us. Prepare your smart missiles.’
‘Shit the bed,’ somebody exclaimed behind me, in response to the translation, but I let it go; we were close to the enemy, and the lads were allowed to be nervous.
I lifted my rifle out of the trench, using the camera to search for the approaching vehicles. Sure enough, my targeting system highlighted four LSV’s rumbling up the hill at high speed, two at the front and two more following behind. Their powerful electric motors emitted high-pitched whines as they approached, and each of their six chunky wheels chucked clods of earth out behind them. It was easy t
o underestimate wheel-based combat vehicles, but not when you were on the receiving end of one. Armed to the teeth with missiles and a Vulcan cannon, they were a frightening thing to see heading toward you.
I flicked onto the platoon net. ‘One-Zero-Alpha, this is One-One-Charlie. I count four LSV’s attacking on the north-western edge of Hill Kilo. The Guard are preparing to fight them off.’
‘One-Zero-Alpha, roger. I’m with their headquarters now. Continue to observe.’
Mr Barkley sounded tense. Somewhere behind us he was probably fighting a battle of will against the unwieldy Guard hierarchy, trying to get them to move their support company into its correct position, and persuade them to utilise our saucers whilst we still had them available. They couldn’t stay in the air forever.
‘Roger,’ I replied, leaving him to it.
I chewed on my drinking straw, watching the approaching Loyalist vehicles anxiously. I didn’t like sitting around doing nothing whilst such powerful machines advanced toward me and my section, threatening to open fire at any moment, but I took some small comfort in knowing that an entire Guard platoon was between us and them.
The LSV’s had only managed to reach the top of the hill when a shrill order was shouted, and a volley of three smart missiles launched from amongst the trenches, no further than thirty metres from the nearest vehicle.
The events after that occurred so fast that if I’d blinked I would have missed them. The turret on the LSV span around automatically to face the new threat, its Vulcan emitting a sudden burst of darts as it engaged the missiles. Two of them exploded mid-air, but the third used the other two as a diversion and arced out to the left, before darting back toward the LSV, detonating against its side with a mighty bang. The vehicle rolled on powerlessly, until one of its wheels struck something and it came to an abrupt halt.
The response from the other three LSV’s was fierce. Their Vulcan cannon roared as they opened fire upon the trenches in front of them, launching several of their own missiles in retaliation. Whether the missiles found their targets I couldn’t be sure, but they would have dealt a terrible blow to anybody nearby, striking the earth in a series of powerful thumps that threw fountains of soil into the air.
RECCE (The Union Series Book 4) Page 14