As I approached our building, I noticed the airlock doors swinging gently in the morning breeze, having been left open by Four Section in their haste to come to the aid of their comrades.
Not taking any chances, we cleared the building systematically, sweeping through each and every room as though it had never been visited. The building had been left abandoned for several hours, and there was no knowing what had happened to it during that time. For all I knew, the secret Guard conspirators could have left behind a nasty surprise.
The furniture in all the rooms was shabby, after decades of neglect. It told of a time when the villagers had lived a comfortable, peaceful life - before the conflict between the colonial powers had torn Eden in two. Four Section had clearly made their mark on the building, collecting cushions, pillows and mattresses, and padding the middle floor with them to create a large sleeping area for those not on sentry duty. The upper floor had been re-arranged, with many windows covered up by moved cabinets and upturned furniture. The few windows that had been left clear were veiled with torn sheets and clothing, leaving small slits for sentries to look out toward the edge of the village and the forest beyond.
‘Nice view,’ Puppy said, holding open one of the slits with his fingers to peer outside.
‘I’ve stayed in worse places,’ I agreed as I joined him. I noticed that the glass of the windows had been replaced by sheets of clear plastic, sealed against the frames to make the building airtight. I looked down at the narrow streets surrounding the building. ‘Not a great place to defend if the village came under attack, though,’ I added. ‘If the enemy got into those streets then he’d be all over us in minutes.’
‘Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.’
‘Hopefully.’ I stepped back from the windows. ‘Wildgoose, what can you do with this?’
The tall sniper was busy moving from window to window, studying the view from each. ‘Great arcs,’ he replied, ‘but a pretty lousy position when the fighting gets close. Like you said - I wouldn’t want to stay in here for too long.’
‘I could stay here forever,’ Myers piped up from where he stood at the stairwell. ‘Have you seen the bedding?’
Puppy flashed a disapproving look back at the young trooper. ‘Why don’t you go to the lower floors and have a look around with your scanner?’
‘It’s been switched on the whole time,’ Myers replied.
‘Just double-check,’ Puppy insisted. ‘There’s no telling what surprises might have been left here while we were out in the forest. Better safe than sorry.’
Myers considered the argument, and then shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’
As the young trooper made his way to the lower storey, Wildgoose eyed Puppy knowingly. ‘I’ll go with him, shall I?’
I watched the sniper as he turned and followed Myers down the stairs. Wildgoose was by far the most mature trooper in the section, possibly more so than I gave him credit. He knew Puppy wanted to get me alone so we could discuss something that the section weren’t privy to.
Once he was happy we were alone, Puppy turned to me. ‘What do you think?’
‘I’m happy to stay here for now,’ I said, ‘but I want to recce the immediate area for fall-back positions.’
He shook his head. ‘I meant - what do you think about what just happened?’
I told my 2ic about the briefing with the platoon commander, as well as the information we had received from EJOC. He listened with increasing unease as I explained to him the deal between us and the Alliance, and the depth of the conspiracy that connected elements of the Guard to the Militia.
‘My God …’ he exclaimed, once I had finished.
‘I know.’
‘We need to tell the blokes …’
‘We can’t,’ I replied quickly. ‘I’m not even supposed to tell you. None of us are supposed to know.’
Puppy frowned. ‘How can we leave the lads in the dark? They can’t be expected to gather information on an enemy they don’t even know exists …’
‘They already know the Guard can’t be trusted,’ I argued.
‘But they all believe that they should be trusted. What harm will come from the lads knowing what’s going on? It’ll keep them focused.’
I shrugged. ‘I think the boss believes he’s protecting them somehow. This deal is big. Huge. The Union and Russia are in disagreement with each other, and there’s a political struggle within EJOC that we’re barely even aware of. The Russians might not even know we’re here in the first place. Do we really want the blokes to know information that could get them killed, either here or in a Paraiso bar?’
Puppy looked unconvinced.
‘Look,’ I continued. ‘Our mission here isn’t to find the missiles, it’s to help the Guard and the FEA hold on to this hill so nobody can get to them. We’re more than capable of doing that.’
‘Fair enough.’ Puppy held up his hands, reluctantly backing down from an argument he knew he couldn’t win. After all, it wasn’t me he had to argue with, it was the platoon commander. It was his decision to withhold information from the men - I was merely obeying orders.
I stared out toward the forest, half expecting a wave of red crosshairs to appear from the trees at any moment. I let out a long sigh.
A faint smile formed on Puppy’s lips. ‘I think I preferred the old Andy Moralee who did his own thing …’
I waved it away. ‘That was different, and you know it. What do you want me to do, tell the lads the Guard are bent and then start shooting?’
‘I know, mate,’ Puppy surrendered. He followed my gaze out into the forest. ‘So you think the Militia will try to retake the village?’
‘Never say never,’ I warned.
There was something unsettling about the Militia we had fought that night, something that made them altogether different from the Loyalists. They had attacked with such ferocity, and such mindless determination, that they had pushed us backward despite huge losses. What was their intention? Were secretive members of the Guard really controlling them?
After a few moments I stepped back from the window, pushing my doubts to the back of my mind.
‘Half the section will be on security,’ I said. ‘The other half will be on rest and standby. Those on security will be up here covering three-sixty degrees.’
Puppy nodded. ‘What about the entrance to the lower floor?’
‘The resting fire team will have to cover that.’
‘The security fire team could observe the entrance from up here?’ Puppy suggested. ‘That way the resting fire team don’t have to do anything.’
I considered the proposition. Puppy was only trying to reduce the demand for manpower, so that more of our men could rest. It was commendable, but tactically unsound.
I shook my head. ‘No, mate. I want somebody physically standing by that door - two at night. I know the lads are tired, but we’re in a village filled with people whose loyalty can’t be trusted. Even the civilians could turn on us. Imagine what the villagers might do if they thought the Militia were going to take Cellini back? They change sides like the wind changes direction.’
‘Fair one,’ he conceded.
‘If I’m wrong, and we all go without sleep for nothing, then I’ll buy you all a drink when we get back to Paraiso.’
Puppy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘What kind of drink?’
The corner of my mouth twitched. ‘Your choice.’
‘Well, let’s hope you’re wrong, then, for your sake!’ he said, a smile spreading across his face.
My face hardened. ‘Let’s hope so.’
A message suddenly flashed on my visor display, causing me to pause. I frowned, unsure what to make of it. It was a transmission from an unrecognised source, transmitted in such a way that it could be recognised by our own network. It was a video message … a type of communication we rarely used in order to minimise net traffic.
‘Are you getting that?’ Puppy asked.
I nodded. I tapped a finge
r against my datapad, opening the message and uploading the video onto my visor.
The video that appeared before my eyes showed a Militiaman stood in the middle of the forest, flanked by several other armed men. At his feet knelt a man wearing a familiar green uniform, and my jaw hung open when I realised who it was: it was Sanneh, one of the troopers we had lost during the ambush.
‘My name is Colonel Helstrom,’ the Militiaman said, glaring into the camera menacingly. He was an older man, perhaps in his fifties, with a cruel scowl fixed upon his face. ‘I am the commander of the 5th Freedom Brigade. You, the traitorous soldiers of Paraiso, are fighting here illegally. Not only are you fighting on land that is rightfully ours, and not only are you allied to an army of despicable vermin, but you are purposefully denying from us a weapon which we can use to defend ourselves against the so-called Alliance.’
He looked down at Sanneh. The trooper remained motionless, looking down at the ground. An open wound glistened on his abdomen, and there was no sign that the Militia had made any effort to treat it. There was something unsettling about the way they were all stood behind him, and my heart raced as I remembered the execution I had witnessed in the village.
Helstrom continued: ‘If you run from this place, then we will spare you. We fight on the behalf of Russia and the Union, even if you are unwilling to fight for yourselves. We accept that you have become cowards who are so afraid of the Alliance that you turn your backs on your own people. We bear no grudge against you. But … if you stay here … if you continue to fight alongside these disgusting people who call themselves the Presidential Guard, then we will be forced to make an example of you.’
Metal flashed as he drew a cruel-looking knife from his belt and held it against Sanneh’s throat, forcing the trooper to lift his head toward the camera.
‘This is what will happen to any Union soldiers we find when we return to Cellini …’
Sanneh made like he was about to say something, perhaps to beg for his life, or perhaps to cry out his final words of defiance, but he never got the chance. With a sudden flick of his arm, Helstrom slit his throat. Gurgling as blood flowed into his severed windpipe, the trooper collapsed onto the ground, just out of view. I gasped, my hand striking my visor as I instinctively reached toward my mouth in shock.
‘Fucking bastards!’ Puppy yelled moments after, having watched the video. ‘Sick fucking bastards!’
I couldn’t believe it. One moment I had been talking with my 2ic, the next I had witnessed one of my comrades being murdered before my eyes. I had seen many horrible things during my time as a trooper, but I had never seen a fellow trooper die such an undignified death.
‘We are coming for you,’ Helstrom continued, looking directly into the camera as if he was talking directly to me, ‘and when we find you, we will kill you. Leave Cellini whilst you still can, or this will be your fate.’ He lifted his respirator to spit on Sanneh as he writhed on the ground.
The video abruptly ended, and for a moment I stared at the last frozen image of the Militia commander.
‘Did the lads get that?’ I asked finally.
A furious howl echoed from the lower storeys in answer to my question.
‘Shit!’ I exclaimed. The message had been passed across our entire net, probably using Sanneh’s own communication equipment. Everybody would see the execution of our comrade - as was Helstrom’s intention.
More voices added to the fury that was building across the section. Strings of curses and vengeful oaths merged together into one gut-wrenching chorus of anger and pain.
Puppy looked to me with a hardened expression. ‘Still keeping the secret?’
I nodded, not taking my eyes off the sickening image still displayed on my visor. ‘Yeah.’
It took ages to calm the section down. They were wild with rage and revulsion, having seen their comrade executed in cold blood by the Militia. Griffiths was by far the worst, since he and Sanneh were both from the 6th Battalion and knew each other well. He demanded vengeance, at one point needing to be restrained by Wildgoose as he tried to escape from the building to wage his own one-man war against the Militia.
‘Calm down, mate,’ the tall sniper soothed, as he held Griffiths tightly in his arms.
Griffiths struggled to break free, but Wildgoose was far too strong. Eventually he gave in, his body going limp as he accepted the embrace.
We all watched as the Welsh trooper sobbed uncontrollably, sharing his pain.
‘We’ve got to get out of this place,’ Myers uttered. ‘What the hell are we doing here, anyway? Let these sick freaks kill each other. Who cares?’
‘It’s not our choice whether we stay here or not,’ I responded.
He blinked. ‘Well whose choice is it?’
‘Not yours, or mine. We have our mission and we need to stick to it.’
I looked at Puppy. ‘We need to pull ourselves together. We’re all in here and nobody’s got their eye out.’
The section 2ic nodded grimly. ‘I’ll get my lads on sentry first, so you can scope the place out.’
‘Keep Griffiths with you. Have your lads try to keep him calm.’
‘I’ll try.’
I sighed. ‘I just hope Corporal Stanton’s alright.’
I took the time to inspect the area around our building, whilst Puppy’s fire team established themselves on the top storey. I was happy to be outside, preferring not to hear Griffiths cry any longer than necessary. Thapa was left on the ground floor just in case somebody tried to sneak in whilst we were away. I wasn’t taking any chances.
The building itself provided an excellent vantage point, but it was far from suitable as a defensive position if the Militia broke into the village. There were too many alleyways surrounding it, providing any would-be attacker with the perfect approach route. We could never hope to provide covering fire in so many different directions, and so our best option was to withdraw long before anybody got so close.
I bumped into the sergeant major’s group as I passed close to the building occupied by Three Section, and the two of us ordered our men to spread out and provide cover whilst we talked.
‘How are the men?’ he asked.
‘They’re in a bad way.’ I replied gloomily. ‘Griffiths is crying his eyes out.’
The sergeant major nodded, a rare trace of sadness visible upon his face. ‘So is Corporal Stanton. I’ve had his section stay inside while I sweep the area for him. He may need to be relieved if he doesn’t manage to pull himself together.’
Corporal Stanton’s agony couldn’t get any worse. The sight of Sanneh’s execution would be permanently burned into the back of his mind, haunting him forever. He would blame himself for his trooper’s horrific death, and the unbearable guilt would threaten to destroy him. We still didn’t know where Butch was, and whether the same fate awaited him as well.
‘We can’t defend from our building,’ I warned, changing the subject. ‘Not if the enemy come close.’
‘No, we can’t, but if the Militia were to attack the village, our job isn’t to sit here and duke it out with them. If - and that’s a big if - if they somehow manage to gain a foothold onto Hill Kilo or Cellini, then we’ll pull out.’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure brigade is OK with that? They seem happy to simply leave us here on our own and see what happens.’
‘It doesn’t matter what brigade thinks,’ the sergeant major replied firmly. ‘If this place gets overrun, then we’re getting out of here. We’ll use the warren tunnels to extract from the village, and then marry up with the other half of the platoon. B Company will then pick us up.’
‘What do you reckon the chances are of that happening?’
‘Of us being overrun? An attempt is possible, but success is highly unlikely. The Militia might be determined - they might even be getting inside help - but they’ve still got an entire battalion of Guard and two battalions of FEA to get through. You can’t take Cellini without taking Hill Kilo first, and that hil
l is a fortress.’
‘Fair one.’
‘We’ll be fine,’ the sergeant major assured me. ‘Get yourselves back to your building and rest. We’ve had enough action for one night, so let’s try to recharge our batteries - just in case we have to go again.’
17
Missile Strike
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I woke with a start to the sound of gunfire, instinctively snatching up my rifle from where it lay beside me.
‘Stand to!’ Puppy’s voice echoed through the building as my fire team rushed to prepare themselves, pulling on boots and donning respirators and helmets. We hadn’t been asleep for longer than thirty minutes since returning from our patrol, but our fatigue was quickly forgotten as adrenalin took over.
‘Shit the bed!’ Myers exclaimed as he frantically tugged at his laces. ‘That sounds close!’
He was right. The sharp cracking sound created by the supersonic darts indicated that they were passing very close to our building … perhaps we were the target.
With a tap against my datapad I reactivated the section net. ‘All call signs, this is One-One-Charlie. Contact!’
I ran toward the stairwell, powering up my rifle as I went.
‘Do you want us up there, too?’ Myers shouted after me.
‘No!’ I snapped, through haste rather than anger. ‘Stay where you are! Make sure the ground floor is secure!’
There were already four men on the upper floor - I didn’t need my entire section up there creating a juicy target for smart missiles.
Bounding up the stairs, I rushed to get my eyes onto the battle. My worst fear was that the Militia would attempt to rush the FEA, breaking through their defences and entering the village. It was tactically unsound, since the village couldn’t be held without the hill being taken first, but I already knew that the Militia didn’t think like we did.
I was almost at the top of the stairwell when a shrill voice screamed out from the upper floor: ‘Missile!’
Instincts kicked in, and I collapsed onto the stairs, my visor banging against the wall as I tucked myself into cover.
RECCE (The Union Series Book 4) Page 27