RECCE (The Union Series Book 4)

by Phillip Richards

  I told Puppy all that I knew about the STORM missiles concealed by the Loyalists, and the possibility that somebody within the Guard knew they were there and wanted the Militia to have them.

  Once I was finished, the section 2ic puffed his cheeks. ‘Wow. I guess that explains why this mission is so important.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Something still doesn’t add up. If I was in the shoes of the Loyalists, and I knew the missiles would be misused by the Militia, then I wouldn’t leave them here in the first place - and if I did, I’d destroy them. How hard is it to destroy a missile?’

  ‘I doubt it takes much,’ Puppy answered. ‘You don’t need to blow them up or anything, just damage them slightly. Even a little dent would make one of those things useless.’

  ‘Then there’s another question,’ I carried on. ‘If somebody does know that the Loyalists have hidden these missiles, is that really a good enough reason to try to ruin this operation, hoping on the off-chance that the Militia will find the missiles and know how to use them - and that’s assuming that the Alliance fleet even enters orbit?’

  ‘Do you think they will enter orbit?’

  I thought about it for a moment. ‘Somebody obviously thinks they will …’

  13

  Standby

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  A hand shook me vigorously, causing me to wake with a start. I blinked at a dark figure crouching outside my atmospheric tent, wondering what the cause was for my awakening. I wasn’t wearing my respirator, so I had no digital clock at the corner of my vision, but I knew by the hasty way that I had been woken that it wasn’t reveille.

  ‘What’s up?’ I whispered groggily.

  ‘Three Section’s been ambushed,’ the figure replied. It was Puppy, I realised, and though he was speaking quietly, the tone of his voice conveyed great urgency.

  I frowned. ‘Just now?’

  ‘Right now, mate. They’re withdrawing from contact, but they’ve taken casualties.’

  I didn’t need to hear any more. I sat up, grabbed my respirator, and slipped it over my head. ‘Wake the others and stand-to.’

  Puppy nodded. ‘Already on it, mate!’

  He swiftly disappeared into the night as I kicked my way out of my thermal bag, activating my visor to assist me in packing my kit. I needed to be quick - troopers were in contact and I commanded the standby section. If anyone was going to be sent to their aid, it would be us. I could just about hear the distant sound of magnetic weapons firing in the forest to the north as I rammed my thermal bag back into my daysack.

  It should never take a trained trooper longer than a minute to “stand-to”. We only ever kept out the items that we were using at the time - everything else was packed away into our daysacks so that we were ready to go. My boots, which I had removed to allow the skin of my feet to breathe, were placed neatly at the foot of my tent so that I could put them back on easily, with or without my visor’s night vision. I wore all of my combats and gel armour, which I had placed back on once they had dried, and my belt kit was laid out to the side of me.

  Once my boots were on, I broke the seal to my tent, allowing all of the filtered air to escape as I climbed out. The air outside was cold against the exposed parts of my neck. There was no rain, I noted - which was a small blessing – and there was no sign of the trademark Eden morning mist. The blanket of cloud had parted during the night to reveal a clear night sky that glittered with a billion stars. A civilian - or even a Union conscript - might have said that the alien night sky was a beautiful sight to behold, but to a trooper the lack of cloud was a double-edged weapon. The ambient light the stars created made it easier for us to be spotted by optical equipment, and I wondered if that was how Corporal Stanton’s section had become compromised.

  I could see that my fire team were now also frantically packing their kit, having only just been woken by Puppy.

  ‘Hurry up, lads,’ I urged them, as I collapsed my tent. I rolled it up tightly and stuffed it back into my daysack. Finally I placed my helmet back onto my head and clipped it under my chin, and then swung my daysack onto my back and picked up my rifle.

  Leaving my fire team to pack, I ran toward Puppy’s end of the trench, just as the first frantic message sounded in my headset, magnets shrieking in the background.

  ‘We have taken three casualties! I’m withdrawing rearwards!’

  It was Corporal Stanton, his breath ragged. He sounded as though he was in serious trouble, and the desperation in his voice drove me to sprint as fast as I could toward Puppy’s position.

  ‘One-Zero-Alpha, roger!’ Mr Barkley answered, sounding calm but concerned at the same time. ‘I am moving forward to rendezvous with the standby patrol! Keep withdrawing and wait out for further instructions!’

  ‘One-Three, understood!’

  Puppy, along with the remainder of his fire team, was staring out into the darkness, listening anxiously to the distant gunfire.

  ‘What’s going on, mate?’ I asked, following his gaze out into the black expanse of forest to the north. I noted a blue crosshair marking a location in the distance - presumably a marker placed by Corporal Stanton when he came under contact.

  Puppy quickly explained everything that had happened before he woke me. The first message sent by Three Section had been their initial contact report. They had been ambushed by militiamen five kilometres to our north, and though Corporal Stanton hadn’t confirmed any specific number of enemy, he appeared to be totally overwhelmed by their firepower.

  ‘He’s managed to withdraw, but the Militia are following him up,’ Puppy finished. ‘He’s taken heavy casualties too - three of them.’

  I nodded gravely. ‘I heard. Are there any Guardsmen or FEA out there?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of. They look like they’re standing to in response to the gunfire, but otherwise none of them have moved.’

  I looked back over my shoulder. Figures were running across the hill toward us, their outline silhouetted by the starlit sky. My visor instantly identified them as the four-man platoon commander’s group, running forward from where they had been located with the Guard battalion headquarters. I had no doubt that the sergeant major would have abandoned Cellini and would be hot on Mr Barkley’s heels, bringing his remaining section with him. Our priorities had shifted to our comrades out in the forest, and the FEA battalion left in the village would have to make do without us.

  I knew the platoon commander would expect my men to be ready to move as soon as he reached me, so there was no time to waste. Since being woken, only a few minutes had passed, but each one of those minutes was more like an hour to Three Section, pelted by darts as they dragged their wounded away in a desperate bid for survival. The Loyalist Militia would pursue them. They would have the taste of blood in their mouths. Perhaps they even knew that their quarry was a section of Union troopers … and the thought of killing men they viewed as traitors to their fanatical cause gave them additional zeal.

  ‘One Section, prepare to move!’ I called over the section net, and as one they clambered out of the trench, this time on the northern side. They all knew where they were going.

  Puppy lifted himself over the lip of the trench with a grunt, and then glanced back down at me. ‘I’ll bring up the rear when you step off.’

  I gave him a thumbs-up, before running back along the now empty trench to re-join my fire team.

  Clambering up next to Myers, I spoke over the platoon net: ‘One-Zero-Alpha, this is One-One-Charlie. I am ready to move now!’

  ‘One-Zero-Alpha, roger!’ Mr Barkley answered, sounding out of breath from his dash toward us. ‘I’m closing up behind you. Make best speed northwards and standby to receive a grid to rendezvous with One-Three. One-Three-Charlie, acknowledge!’

  ‘One-Three-Charlie!’ Corporal Stanton’s reply was almost a shout. He was flapping badly - not that I blamed him - I had been in an ambush myself, and I knew that they were a terrifying experience.

 
‘Follow on in single file!’ I called out, and then waited a moment for my message to pass both ways along the section line. ‘Let’s go!’

  I launched forward, half-running, half-sliding down the steep muddy slope. Security was substituted for speed as the section followed on behind me in a ragged single file, each trooper more interested in getting down from the hill quickly rather than maintaining a formation. Corporal Abdi’s section was still on overwatch further along the hill, providing us the cover we needed to get down safely, and I suspected that the platoon commander would leave him there, maintaining a foothold on the hill whilst we were away.

  We reached the edge of the forest in less than a minute, our combats soaked once more by sliding through wet grass and mud. I glanced rearward to make sure that nobody had dropped too far behind, and then charged into the trees using the marker placed by Corporal Stanton to set my bearing.

  I crashed through a wall of ferns as I spoke to the platoon commander over the net, informing him that I had entered the forest.

  ‘One-Zero-Alpha, roger!’ he answered immediately. ‘I am now a hundred metres behind your section, with One-Four and One-Zero-Bravo in support!’

  As I had expected, the sergeant major had indeed abandoned Cellini, relying on the FEA soldiers to keep it secure in our absence. Now Four Section, released from its task of securing the village, was free to move up as a reserve section under the control of the sergeant major. In less than a few minutes, we had transformed from a defensive formation into a fighting unit composed of two sections - three if you included the additional manpower held within the platoon commander and sergeant major’s groups. Three Section were in serious danger of being totally wiped out by the Militia, an unthinkable outcome, not just because we needed the manpower, but because they were our friends and comrades.

  Mr Barkley continued: ‘Be aware that I’m calling for immediate close air support to assist in Three Section’s extraction, as well as support from our partners on Hill Kilo.’

  I wondered what support we would receive from the Guard, if any, and then decided that our best hope had to be with the saucers - that was if they didn’t get shot out of the sky by the guns on the hill.

  I raced through the forest, spurred onwards by the on-going gun battle ahead of me. Quick glances over my shoulder confirmed that the section was following close behind, with Puppy at the tail end to ensure that nobody dropped back. There was no chance of anybody falling away from the pace, though - I probably could have run at full speed and everybody would have still kept up with me. Nothing mattered to us now, our soaking combats and protesting muscles were suddenly forgotten as we ran to save our embattled brothers in arms.

  Mr Barkley panted over the net: ‘One-Three, send situation report!’

  There was no reply, not that that meant anything. It was easy for a section commander to become so absorbed in battle that he forgot to listen to the net, despite being taught the opposite.

  ‘One-Three, send sit rep!’ the boss repeated.

  Corporal Stanton finally spoke, and I welcomed the sight of his name flashing up on the bottom of my visor display. ‘One-Three! I’m trying to break contact, I …’

  The poor bastard, I thought to myself as I weaved through the trees. He sounded almost shrill, and I knew why - the sound of gunfire, rapidly increasing in volume as we drew near, told of the ferocity of the battle.

  ‘One-Three,’ Mr Barkley said sternly, catching his breath. ‘Calm down. Send me your location.’

  Some might think that the platoon commander was being harsh ordering Corporal Stanton to calm down, given the pressure that he must be under, but it was exactly what he needed; if Corporal Stanton lost his nerve, then he and his section were as good as dead.

  After a few moments, a fresh blue crosshair appeared, marking Three Section’s latest position. It was just under a kilometre away, the distance between us having decreased dramatically as both parties ran toward each other from opposite directions.

  ‘Received,’ Mr Barkley replied. ‘One-One-Charlie, confirm you see the mark!’

  ‘One-One,’ I acknowledged.

  A long blue line then materialised ahead of me, marking a location three hundred metres away.

  ‘You are to move to the line I have drawn and set up a baseline. One-Three, you are to keep to the east of that line in order to provide One-One with a clear field of fire. Once they are set then you are to go fully live on the net. Acknowledge.’

  ‘One-One-Charlie,’ I replied instantly, understanding the platoon commander’s intention. At the moment, Three Section was almost completely silent on the net, only breaking that silence to communicate with us or update us on their position. They were hoping that doing so would allow them to break free of their contact - though the ploy hadn’t worked so far. Once they went fully live, however, each trooper would be sending constant updates on his exact position on the battlefield. The increase in net traffic would make them easy targets, but it would also enable my section to fire into the trees without the fear of hitting friendly troops.

  Now that I knew where I was going, I was in a race against time to set up my baseline before the enemy drew too close. I increased my pace, ignoring the branches that snagged against my kit and the twigs that broke beneath my boots. The blue line that marked our intended position beckoned, like the finish line of a marathon.

  I ducked lower as darts cracked and hissed close by, occasionally sending chips of wood through the air as they struck the nearby trees. The Militia weren’t firing at us, they were firing at Three Section somewhere to our front, but their darts were just as deadly.

  When I came close to the blue line, I noticed the forest becoming lighter, as if I was approaching a clearing. The trees became sparse, replaced by smaller bushes and clumps of ferns, and the ground began to slope downward. I realised that I was on the southern edge of a shallow, rocky valley that extended from west to east. Though overgrown with vegetation, the valley clearly couldn’t support the larger roots of the trees themselves, and so it formed a natural break in the forest that snaked off in either direction.

  The air was growing thick with enemy fire by the time I reached the blue line. I still couldn’t see anything, but I could hear the battle clearly. I could also hear orders being barked, though even with my headset I couldn’t quite work out if they were from friendly troopers or Militia.

  ‘Form up on the line!’ I hissed, pointing either side of me with outstretched arms. ‘Charlie left. Delta right!’

  The section quickly fanned out, each trooper breathing heavily as they ran into their respective positions. Using the change in terrain to their advantage, they found cover amongst the jagged rocks. Weapons were checked and smart launchers were quietly laid out ready to fire. We might have run over two kilometres since leaving Hill Kilo, but we were still ready to fight.

  Ignoring the darts that peppered the forest around me, I lifted my head from behind the rocks and studied my surroundings, immediately seeing the reasoning behind Mr Barkley’s decision to place my baseline on the edge of the valley. Due to the break in the forest, it provided my section with an excellent field of view, and created a difficult obstacle for the Militia to cross. On the other hand, though, it meant that Three Section would have to cross it themselves before reaching us, slowed down by casualties and harassed by the enemy. I would need to provide an enormous weight of fire in order to secure their crossing.

  A dart struck a rock just in front of Skelton, and the trooper flinched, forgetting himself as he uttered an angry curse.

  ‘Shut up!’ I hissed at him angrily, anxious not to give ourselves away until the last moment. I flicked to the net. ‘One-Zero-Alpha, this is One-One-Charlie - I’m set!’

  ‘I see you,’ Mr Barkley replied. ‘I’m just to your rear, on the edge of the tree line. Be aware that the reserve is still some way behind. One-Three, confirm your location!’

  When he spoke, Corporal Stanton sounded exhausted, barely able to get the w
ords out in between ragged breaths: ‘One-Three … Roger!’

  His crosshair appeared amongst the trees on the northern side of the valley, less than two hundred metres away to my forward right. They were close, and that meant that the enemy weren’t much further away than that.

  ‘Prepare for rapid,’ I whispered in warning. I tightened the grip on my rifle, pulling the butt firmly into my shoulder.

  ‘One-Three, go fully live,’ Mr Barkley ordered.

  I heard the voices of our comrades in Three Section for the first time, as the order was relayed verbally by the troopers who were still able to fight. Moments later, several more crosshairs appeared, one by one, dotted along the edge of the tree line. Each one marked the location of one of Three Section’s troopers as they withdrew toward us.

  ‘One-One,’ Mr Barkley ordered. ‘Rapid fire in five.’

  I activated the section net fully, and drew a line along the tree line with my outstretched finger, marking an area a hundred metres wide from the western edge of Three Section.

  ‘One Section, prepare for rapid, reference my mark …!’

  Right on cue, the platoon commander counted down the remaining seconds: ‘Three … two … one … rapid fire now!’

  I lifted my head. ‘Rapid … FIRE!’

  The valley echoed with the scream of magnets as the section unleashed all of their fury into the forest. Pumping round after round into the trees, we fired blindly in our effort to stop the enemy advance. It didn’t matter that we couldn’t see our targets, all that mattered was to make the Militia take cover, and to hold them at bay long enough for Three Section to get their men across.

  Corporal Stanton’s section broke out of the trees on the northern side of the valley to my right, scrambling down the steep rocky slope. They were in a bad way. Two troopers were carrying comrades over their shoulders, whilst another man limped as though he had been shot in the leg. I counted them as they stumbled down the slope - there were only six of them … two others were missing.