RECCE (The Union Series Book 4)

by Phillip Richards

  Corporal Kamara frowned. ‘So how do we know about them?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Mr Barkley replied. ‘All our information comes directly from EJOC.’

  ‘Well, what do you know?’ I demanded. ‘Boss, you can’t hide this stuff from us anymore. Too many people have been hurt for us to be kept in the dark.’

  The platoon commander exchanged a glance with the sergeant major.

  ‘Tell them about the messages,’ the sergeant major said, almost as an order.

  All eyes now fixed onto the platoon commander, demanding answers. Even Corporal Stanton lifted his head to hear what he had to say. We couldn’t carry on the way we were without fully understanding what was going on, not after so many of our comrades had been injured.

  Mr Barkley gave in with a sigh, and said, ‘Since the beginning of this operation I have been trickle-fed additional information from brigade, most of which is highly classified. You must not share any of this information with your men - for their own sakes. There appears to be a small group within this Guard battalion who share a common interest with the Militia - a common interest that has only materialised since the approach of the Alliance fleet.’

  Abs looked confused. ‘What … like a secret society?’

  ‘I probably wouldn’t choose those words to describe them, but in effect, yes. They form part of the president’s most trusted inner circle, who have been instrumental in shaping the Guard’s activities to provoke the Alliance, including orchestrating the massacre at Dakar and even purposefully and overtly undermining Edo’s defences to entice the original Loyalist invasion.’

  An image of Bhasin instantly materialised in my mind. He must have been part of that inner circle too, pulling strings in order to control the FEA, and later dispatching his son to track and kill my section when they had learned too much. I wondered if he had any involvement in all of this. Despite not having ever seen him for longer than a few minutes, he was the face of the Guard conspiracy in my eyes: the man against whom all my hatred was directed.

  ‘This entire conflict may have been provoked and influenced by these individuals, and their plan to start a full scale planetary war appeared to be working, until EJOC stepped in …’

  ‘Stepped in?’ Abs threw up his hands. ‘They didn’t achieve much! The Alliance are just about ready to invade!’

  The sergeant major nodded slowly. ‘The Alliance are going to land on Eden … on invitation.’

  I frowned. ‘Invitation from whom?’

  ‘From EJOC,’ Mr Barkley answered. ‘A secret deal has been struck with the Alliance, whereby they are granted the right to take back Edo so long as they annex the present government and restore order. In other words - the president would be deposed.’

  Corporal Abdi’s mouth hung open in shock. ‘Why would we do that?’

  ‘It was inevitable that the Alliance would return to Eden,’ Mr Barkley explained, ‘especially now that we share a common enemy. The Alliance is as threatened by Chinese expansion elsewhere in the galaxy as we are; it makes no sense for us to be at loggerheads with one another. Eden is a thorn in all our sides, diverting our attention and our resources away from more important worlds such as New Earth. By co-operating with the Alliance we would increase the security of the planet as a whole, and I suspect, given time, they will be allowed to take control of all their original provinces.

  ‘Under the terms of our deal, Edo’s original borders would be restored, with large chunks of land being handed back to them from Paraiso. The people of Edo would get what they want: the Alliance come back; we hand back the land we took from them; trade resumes … Unfortunately it looks like the president has somehow gotten wind of this deal, and clearly he isn’t happy with it. He has tried to provoke the Alliance into invading, but that was under the assumption that they would return on a war footing. He expected them to attack the Union and Russian provinces, not simply remove him from power and take control of Edo. Now his only hope is to attempt to spoil the deal between us and the Alliance by coercing Helstrom’s Militia into capturing, and then using, the missiles hidden within this warren. Helstrom has become disenchanted by the withdrawal of the rest of the Loyalist army, and has become easy to manipulate. The location of those missiles is known to the President’s inner circle - and they are using that information as a bargaining chip.’

  I shook my head disbelievingly. ‘How could a plan like that possibly work? A few missiles won’t put the Alliance off their landings …’

  ‘In a military sense, no,’ the platoon commander admitted, ‘but the agreement between EJOC and the Alliance is extremely fragile. Remember that EJOC is a military command structure representing both us and the Russians. We don’t always agree with each other. The Russians are not as keen to allow our old enemies back onto the surface of Eden, and unlike us, they trade with Europa. Their position means that this entire deal balances on a knife edge. If the Militia were somehow able to capture the missiles and then fire them from within their province, then they would almost certainly provoke a response from the Alliance fleet. Even a single Alliance bomb dropped into Europa would start a political argument that would cause the deal to collapse. Contrary to the rumours you may have heard back in Paraiso, the approaching Alliance fleet isn’t large enough to mount a successful campaign against us. If Russia tells them to go away, then the fleet will simply surrender and the entire ‘invasion’ will end before it even starts. The status quo is then restored. The President gets to keep his province, and relations between us and the Alliance turn cold once again. Obviously the president doesn’t want his people, or even the Guard, to know about all of this. If word got out that he was trying to stop the Alliance returning, then there would almost certainly be a revolution across his province.’

  ‘So why don’t we just tell his people for him?’ I asked.

  ‘They wouldn’t believe us if we said the grass is green, but I suspect it has something to do with a need to keep the deal secret from Europa and Paraiso as well. It looks like the president has shared this secret, though - with the local Militia at least. I’m not saying that it was definitely an insider that gave away Three Section to the Militia, but it certainly looks like it.

  ‘We’re being watched, I have virtually no doubt of that now. The situation has changed considerably with the return of the Militia on such a large scale. I’m going to speak with EJOC and see what they have to say on the matter. I’ll also see if I can persuade the FEA to increase their security, just in case the Militia have somehow been purposefully allowed to infiltrate back into the village and the warrens.’

  A few of the commanders fidgeted nervously at the platoon commander’s implication that the Militia might be able to sneak back into Cellini, as well as the tunnels around it. Somebody within the Guard was desperate for them to capture the missiles, even if it meant risking the lives of their own countrymen.

  ‘Shit …’ Corporal Kamara breathed.

  I glanced out into the dimly lit tunnel beyond the cavern, suddenly aware of the danger posed by the network of tunnels surrounding us. We had left the warrens to the FEA, assuming that they would have kept them secure. Our platoon had barely a fraction of the manpower required to clear and secure such a vast tunnel system, and so we had relied upon our allies to do it properly themselves. I remembered the Guardsmen I had noticed whilst moving through the tunnels. How much control did the insiders have? They clearly didn’t control the Guard battalion entirely - otherwise they would never have even started the operation in the first place - but their power was significant. Could they have altered the security across the village and the warrens? Were the Militia already amongst us?

  Mr Barkley ended the silence, saying, ‘OK, let’s talk about the state of the platoon. Sergeant Major, how are we looking?’

  Sergeant Major Davies sighed deeply, and then looked down at his datapad to check. He could probably have remembered the figures off the top of his head, but we all knew that he was obsessed with doing things
properly.

  ‘We evacuated six casualties in total,’ he said, looking back up from the datapad. ‘Then there are the two missing troopers - which puts us down eight.’

  Mr Barkley paused for a moment as the numbers sunk in, then he sighed deeply. ‘That’s a whole section …’

  ‘It is,’ the sergeant major admitted, ‘but our good friends in B Company have provided us with eight of their own men, all of whom are volunteers. Our numbers remain the same.'

  The platoon commander nodded, looking relieved. 'Good. Otherwise we would have been forced to disband Three Section, and sacrifice too much of our manoeuvrability.'

  The sergeant major continued: ‘Our replacements will be shared between your sections, taking you back up to full strength. I’ve only spoken with them briefly, but they sound like decent lads who just want to help. They’re not recce, but they’re not CROW either, so treat them respectfully and make sure nobody starts abusing Johnny because he’s not as good as Jimmy was. Understand?’

  We nodded. We had all seen how rough troopers could be to newcomers, especially when they were replacing injured or missing friends. Such treatment wasn’t acceptable anywhere, as far as I was concerned, but it definitely wasn’t acceptable in our present situation. We needed to trust everyone equally, because we certainly couldn’t trust anyone else.

  The sergeant major took a darker tone. ‘Obviously if we take further casualties, however, we will need to consider axing one of the sections.’

  ‘Hopefully that will not be necessary,’ Mr Barkley said.

  The sergeant major switched his attention to Corporal Stanton. ‘You will obviously be receiving the bulk of the replacements, therefore your section will remain in the village to get yourselves rested and re-organised whilst the remainder of us continue with the rotation.'

  Corporal Stanton nodded.

  'Keep your chin up,' the sergeant major said suddenly, fixing the section commander with a burning stare. 'If you start falling apart then your men will follow suit. Shit happens, but nobody's dead. I'm sure your two lads are finding their way back this very moment.'

  For a second I thought that Stan was going to cry, but then he found some form of inner strength and his face hardened once more.

  The platoon commander regarded each of us in turn. 'As soon as your sections are rebalanced then we will go back into routine. Make no mistake, our mission to secure Cellini has not changed - if anything it has become even more important that we do so.

  ‘As the sergeant major already said, I want Corporal Stanton’s section to remain in the village in order to recover. Corporal Moralee, you will take your section down to the village as well. The sergeant major will show you your positions there. Corporal’s Abdi and Kamara, you will both stay up on the hill with me. We will not mount any patrols for the next few hours at least, whilst we wait for the dust to settle.

  ‘There appears to be a great deal more Militia out in the forest than we previously thought, and they certainly don’t appear to have any problem with bringing the fight to us. Be extremely vigilant, and make sure that your sections are keeping a keen eye out for anything unusual happening within the village or Hill Kilo itself. Sergeant Major, any further points?’

  ‘Once we’re back on the surface have your section 2ic’s close in to me to rebalance the platoon ammunition before you assume your positions. Get your blokes to double-check their kit to make sure that nothing is lost or damaged. If it is, then let me know. That’s it.’

  ‘I won’t keep you any longer,’ the platoon commander said, to conclude. ‘You know what to do. I’m sure we will hear more from brigade in the coming hours, but until then all I require is for you to remain alert, whilst allowing time for your men to recover. Carry on.’

  We stood, collecting our runners, before being led back toward the surface.

  ‘Suddenly this place seems a lot less secure,’ Abs uttered to me as we left the chamber.

  ‘That’s the problem,’ I replied. ‘It isn’t secure at all.’

  16

  Execution

  Back to the contents page

  The sky was brightening when my section returned to Cellini, though a fresh blanket of cloud was slowly creeping toward us from the north, black and ominous like the tide of Militia that had swept toward us only hours ago.

  There was a stillness that hung over the empty village streets, a sense of foreboding that sent a chill down my spine, and scores of civilians watched us from their windows as we patrolled into the village, trying to stay back in the shadows in the mistaken belief that we couldn’t see them.

  I saw that the bodies of the murdered civilians had finally been removed, most likely put to rest by their friends and family. I imagined the sorrow they felt for the loved ones they’d lost, and the fear they must have felt knowing that the evil men who had inflicted so much pain were only a few kilometres away. Perhaps less.

  I shook away the thought as we followed the main city street toward the air factory, keeping within a pathway that had recently been swept clear of broken glass. Beneath the thick layer of dirt and grime that carpeted the street, I could see that it was paved with white marble, neatly arranged in perfect lines; the village had once been beautiful, but that had been a long time ago.

  At the end of the street, towering above all the village, the air factory loomed like the spire of an alien cathedral, with smooth, perfect lines and white walls that gleamed brightly in stark contrast to the blackened buildings that surrounded it. This was the first time that I had seen the building properly - the day before it had been concealed by a cloud of smoke and ash. It looked as though it had been washed recently, and it was the only part of the village that appeared to be largely unscathed by the conflict, as though even the Militia respected it.

  We entered the square at the base of the factory, and I took a moment to study it as we passed on our way to the northern street. The factory entrance appeared more like the entrance to a government building or an ancient temple than to a place of industry, with a great staircase ascending toward a tall marble arch. Great metal doors blocked the entrance, decorated by sculptures of flowers and animals.

  ‘Now that’s a fancy looking building,’ Private Weatherall - Skelton’s replacement - commented, craning his neck backward to take in the scale of the factory.

  ‘Yeah, it is pretty fancy,’ I agreed.

  I had seen many impressive buildings during my time with the Dropship Infantry. The most impressive had been the Citadel on New Earth - an enormous structure towering two kilometres high, like a spear stabbing at the heavens. It often seemed to me that colonists had a different attitude toward buildings than we had on Earth - in Europe, at least. The appearance was more important than the cost. What made the air factory so eye-catching, though, was the way that it had been built and cared for as if it were a religious artefact. It was like a temple.

  ‘Shame the factories aren’t like that on Earth,’ Myers said wistfully. ‘I wouldn’t mind working there when I get out.’

  ‘You wouldn’t last ten minutes in a factory,’ Puppy replied. ‘You can barely tie your boot laces.’

  ‘Nice one, mate. I remember my first joke …’ Myers replied sarcastically. ‘It’s just a giant respirator filter anyway, isn’t it? I mean, it doesn’t make anything, it just sucks bad air in and pumps good air out.’

  ‘I’m sure it’s a bit more complicated than that,’ I said, as we patrolled past the building and on to another street leading toward our destination.

  The young trooper continued, briefly turning about to take one last look at the structure: ‘Most factories are tucked away somewhere, but that one’s right in the centre - like a town hall or something.’

  ‘The village was probably built after the factory,’ I said, ‘to accommodate the people who ran it.’

  ‘I guess they couldn’t be arsed with walking too far to work, then.’

  ‘Lazy bastards,’ Puppy uttered.

  ‘Lazy?’ Myers
turned around and threw up his arms. ‘That’s pure genius! You could fall out of bed five minutes before work, stagger in …’

  Puppy raised his voice from the back of the section, his words dipping with sarcasm: ‘Get your hands cut off, get strung up by your neck, get left to bleed out … Genius.’

  ‘Well,’ Myers shrugged, ‘I wouldn’t want to work here on Eden. I just meant I’d like to work in a factory like that back home.’

  There was a trace of longing in Myers’s words, I noticed. He really had seen enough of the Bosque.

  I could see that the Guard company had occupied a building on the edge of the square, my visor mistakenly marking their window sentries with red crosshairs as if they were enemy. Perhaps my targeting system had a conscience, I wondered, with a dark smile, and had decided that it didn’t like the Guard either.

  The Guard company appeared to be more interested in controlling the village than confronting the army of Militia that threatened to attack at any moment, keeping their headquarters away from the frontline and the FEA. It was as though they didn’t care if their counterparts managed to hold on to the village at all. I found myself wondering if the “secret society” had any influence over the company’s positioning, and how long they would stick around if the village came under attack - if at all.

  We found the building that had been used by Four Section before the ambush, one of the three-storey structures that had been used by the FEA battalion headquarters. There was still a heavy FEA presence around the area, with what appeared to be several platoons occupying buildings nearby. I presumed that they were holding back a reserve force to assist the companies defending the village perimeter.