“I noticed that their BattleMasters copied our field uniform. Once I get this camo getup off, I’ll look a lot like a Euro. Since we’re already inside their camp, I just need to walk around like I own the place.”
“Good idea for you.” Veech shrugged. “But what are we supposed to do?”
She stuffed the top between two crates. “Easy. Manually set your camo to monic the Euro default setting and stay close, like you’re with me. You won’t have rank insignia, but it’ll have to do, sergeant, how’s your accent?”
“Pretty good actually. My instructor said I could’ve been a spy on Charlemagne.”
“Then chat to us about random stuff that Stanner and I can just nod to.”
Stanner typed away on this wrist computer as a wide grin crossed his face. “This is so crazy I think it’ll work.” His and Veech’s uniforms shifted to a green and brown pattern.
“Leave your rifles behind.” Veech unslung his weapon. “They’re a dead giveaway. Hidden small arms only.”
Stephanie stared into their eyes. “Remember, act like you belong here. We don’t have far to go to the ramp. Once inside, we go as far as we can until we get questioned, then we do what we have to as quietly as we can.”
They nodded and all three stood up.
Chapter Fifteen
Planetary Commander Samantha Pendergast felt alive. Sometimes she started to forget that sensation. She’d lose herself in a digital ocean for days at a time, immersed in pure information.
At first, the electronic realm had frightened her. It was cold and lonely. Now, it was home, her new normal. Still, occasionally she’d be reminded of the life she’d left behind and a stab of remorse pierced her heart.
Right now she was soaring, her primary consciousness fused with a recon drone cutting through the air on a suicide mission. She commanded the pawn on her massive virtual chessboard herself. She told herself it was a logical move to learn what the drone saw a fraction of a second faster, and those tiny fragments of time were an eternity to her.
That was an excuse, though. She wanted, needed to feel alive.
Flipping into a steep dive, the delta-winged craft broke through the high clouds of the stratosphere. Swirling strands of white trailed it as she dove to get below the lower layer of haze obscuring the view below. She could feel the wind rush around her. Leaving the sun behind, she plunged into darkness. The rapidly approaching ground excited her, quickening her pulse.
Alerts sounded. Warning lights flashed.
The enemy had detected her and moved to intercept.
Samantha ignored them. She was on a specific mission and the temporary vessel was expendable. She was after the single most important commodity in war: information.
A buzzing sound stung her ears; that’s how her brain interpreted the electrical impulse the computer sent. The meaning was clear: a missile had been launched at her drone.
Gravity repellers were pushed beyond their design parameters, not in a vain attempt to escape but in hopes of learning what she so desperately had to know.
What was the enemy strength?
She slammed into the gray soup, stirring it as she shot out the bottom. The landscape underneath was a blur of faint lights and shadows. The naked eye couldn’t see anything of use, but fortunately she wasn’t relying on her primitive orbs.
Destruction closed on her as the craft’s sensor array tore away the blackness to swept the terrain. A picture developed in her mind’s eye.
It terrified her.
Hundreds of BattleMaster drones barreled forward with a smattering of Goliaths mixed in. It was an overwhelming force.
How? How did they steal our tech and build such a force without my knowledge? Every fragment of intel is analyzed by me. Nothing hinted at this possibility.
The drone carrying her exploded, jolting her back into her body, but Samantha paid the event no attention. She was consumed with the projections running inside her head. She ran them again and again but each time the result was the same.
Defeat was imminent.
The logical machine part of her brain processed the data like any other and its conclusion meant nothing more than the answer to a question. Samantha wasn’t a machine, however. She was a woman with machine components even if others, and even herself, sometimes forgot that.
The prospect of defeat shook her to her core. All of the sacrifices, pain, and lost friends were about to be for nothing. She noticed her face was wet and touched the slick skin.
Tears?
She hadn’t cried in years, not since the day she broke up with Kyle after volunteering for the research program that would turn her into what she was today.
Kyle!
The war was over, lost. Now all that mattered was saving as many lives as possible. There was no point in hundreds more dying for a lost cause. It lacked logic. Kyle wouldn’t like it. Giving up, surrendering, wasn’t who he was, but math is math and it showed there was no point in continuing the fight.
I have to talk to him, convince him to surrender. I don’t want to lose him again.
***
Kyle injected himself with another stim. In moments the magic elixir cleared the fog from his exhausted mind and put steel into his stance. He was well past the danger point with the drug but that was irrelevant, given the situation.
Captain Lynchburg popped his head around the back of the APC they traveled in. “Priority call from HQ coming in for you, sir.”
“I’ll take it.” He tossed away the spent stim cartridge. Samantha appeared on the screen. He was always happy to see her, but there was a look in her eyes that worried him. “Would you like a sitrep, sir?”
She shook her head. “I know the situation better than you, general.” Her gaze drifted off a fraction of an inch.
The body language’s significance was almost unnoticeable. It would’ve been to anyone but him. He could tell her distress was beyond an unfortunate tactical turn of events. “It’s that bad?”
Samantha stared straight ahead. “Yes, and worse.”
He sucked in a breath and held it. Crossing his arms, he nodded, ready to get to work to do what they needed to pull a measure of victory from defeat. “What’s the plan?”
“There is no plan.” Her eyes drifted to the floor.
He gasped. “What do you mean, there’s no plan? We have to do something, Samantha. Good men are dying. We can’t leave them hung out to dry.”
“We’re not going to abandon them, Kyle. What I’m saying is there’s no point in fighting on.”
He threw his hands in the air. “Surrender?” A half dozen faces turned toward him. He ignored them. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “I’ve ran the data a thousand times, literally, and there’s a ninety-nine point nine percent probability that we will be wiped out. Even if we somehow manage to stop the Euro offensive, we don’t have the resources to keep fighting the advancing Chinese forces. Our plans for a blitzkrieg-style victory on one front are over. We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.”
Kyle shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Damn it! We’ve fought too hard for too long to have it all be for nothing.”
“I hear you and I feel your pain, but truth be told, this whole operation was a gamble from the start. We were up against a wall with the emerging alliance against us, so we rolled the dice on a bold strategy to effectively knock the Euros out. But we lost.
“We didn’t foresee them springing a trap on us. Who knows how long they’ve held their own BattleMasters in reserve, waiting for this moment? It explains the lack of armor they’ve fielded for the last several months.”
Kyle paced. “No! It can’t end here. Not like this.”
“What’s the point? I’ve run every scenario. At best we can delay the inevitable at a cost of more death. Why? What will be accomplished in the end? My simulations don’t see a way out of this.”
Kyle scoffed. “Your sims? War is far more than just an algorithm. There’s courage, h
onor, daring, and brotherhood. Your greatest fault since becoming a heartless machine, Samantha, is that you lost sight of that. You weren’t always so cold and blind to your humanity.” A ping in his gut told him he shouldn’t have said that, but he didn’t care right now.
Samantha rocked away from the camera as if the words pushed her back. She came forward with burning eyes. “War is math, general. Units times firepower times angle applied. No amount of courage can salvage a hopeless situation. Trying will only get good men—”
Kyle stabbed his finger at the screen. “Battle of Britain, Salamis, Rorke’s Drift. All hopeless situations where a few brave soldiers changed the course of history.”
She crossed her arms. “This isn’t a debate. I am your commanding officer, I am the commanding officer of everyone on this planet, and I am ordering you into a full retreat. Keep your people safe while I get final approval to enter surrender negotiations from Colonial Gov.”
He snapped into rigid attention. “Yes, sir.”
“I don’t expect you to like it, general, but I don’t care. You will follow orders.”
“Yes, sir.” He cut the feed. Staring at the black screen, his mind ached at the thought of surrendering.
No! He couldn’t just admit defeat like Samantha. The American military on Earth had never militarily lost a war. It wasn’t over yet. Samantha needed time to update the president and convince her to give up on a decades-long campaign. Time. He had time to make one last stand. He’d have to be careful, though. He needed to take steps to keep his intentions from Samantha, and that wouldn’t be easy.
He balled his fist and punched his palm. “Captain!”
Luke jumped around the corner. “Yes, sir?”
“Inform all field commanders that they are to cease their fighting withdrawal. All units are to fall back in full retreat.”
“Sir?”
“You heard me, captain.”
“Yes, sir.” Luke turned but was stopped in his tracks.
“And captain.” Kyle gritted his teeth. “Once the order is sent, find me some runners. We’ll have follow-up orders to send, but I don’t want them to go out on the network. We aren’t falling back far. Just enough to form a new solid line. Then we give them everything we have and pray the gods of war show us favor.”
Kyle looked off toward the sounds of distant explosions and spoke quietly as Luke left. “There’s more to battle than mathematics, more than can be seen by any scanner. Either way, we will not go quietly into the night.”
We just need a miracle.
**
Stephanie puffed out her chest, making her B-cup-sized breasts appear more prominent then they were. The skin-tight black suit accentuated every curve. The dominatrix-inspired outfit typically made her feel self-conscious, but such an emotion could prove fatal here,
She needed to look confident, like the head bitch in charge that no one wanted to mess with. Tapping into that part of herself proved easier than expected, so she aimed to act like Reba.
Broad steps carried her to the open ramp thirty yards away. She wanted to sprint for it but kept her cool. A smattering of Euro infantrymen passed, eyeing her. Stephanie didn’t pay the apes any attention. She acted as if they didn’t matter, as if they weren’t even there. It made her feel powerful.
Ten yards away from her objective, her heart picked up its pace. She swallowed hard and buried her excitement. A sickening lead weight formed in her gut when an oberst, the Euro equivalent of a full bird colonel, emerged from atop the ramp. He stood there, scanning the camp like a sentry. His gaze settled on the trio and held. He strolled down to meet them as they approached.
The trio froze at attention and snapped sharp salutes. The oberst’s cobalt eyes studied her every detail. “Hallo, ich glaube nicht, dass wir schon einmal getroffen haben. Bist du neu?”
Stephanie’s mouth went as dry as sand. She had no idea what in the hell he just said. We are so dead Why didn’t I take German!
Veech cleared his throat. “Ja, Herr Oberst. Wir waren aus medizinischen gründen verzögert und verpasste den beginn der angriff. Wir kamen am letzten Lieferung Versand. Der Leutnant ist zu dienen als eine tiefe reservieren.”
Oh, God! What are they saying? What should I do? Nod, just nod.
She pressed her lips together and nodded once. The oberst looked Veech and Stanner up and down, then returned those cold blue eyes to her. He cracked open his jaw, sending a wave of panic through her.
A man at the top of the ramp poked his head out. “Herr Oberst, ist die allgemeine für sie auf der ganzen linie.”
The oberst regarded him. “Ja. Ja.” He waved at the intruders. “Weitermachen.”
The oberst walked away, relieving a mountain of stress. Panic reopened when a hauptmann, a captain, who’d been hanging behind the oberst stepped forward. He had a wide smile and stared at her with lustful eyes.
He opened his mouth. Oh, God. Stone-faced, she slapped him across the cheek on instinct. Huffing, she stuck up her nose and walked away, stumping onto the metal incline.
She turned left, the opposite way from the oberst, and went deep into the narrow hallway lined with doors. Moving gave her a sense of security and she would’ve kept going, but a deliberate cough from Veech brought her back. She entered the first empty room she found and closed the door behind them,
Leaning against the door, she took several deep breaths while the other two made sure the room was clear. They nodded to her it was safe. “Was that as close as I thought it was?”
“Yes.” Veech wiped his forehead and sat on a crate. “He was asking who we were. I told him we’d just arrived after missing the offensive for medical reasons. I don’t think he was totally convinced, but he got a call from a general and that took him away.”
Stanner chuckled. “Where did that slap come from?”
“I’m not sure. He looked like he was about to hit on him so I did what Captain Chandler would do if a man approached her like that.”
“I think you did her proud.” Stanner snorted.
She stood straight, keeping her hand on the doorknob. “So what’s the plan?”
Veech shrugged. “I was keeping an eye on the doors’ labels. I didn’t see anything that would indicate they’re important. General supplies and offices.”
“We need to go deeper.” Stanner moved to her side. “We have to go until we find a drone maintenance compartment. There we should be able to find a way into the network.”
She nodded. “Agreed. Sergeant, stay right behind him. I’m gonna try to plow our way through here.”
“Got it, sir.”
Stephanie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do this.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Water,” Olsen choked out. His head and bandaged leg throbbed. They’d been throbbing ever since he awoke in a Euro aid station. He was a POW, but at least he had a bed there. Now he was marching deeper into enemy territory. Marching was a strong word. The group of around fifty walking wounded didn’t march so much as they staggered and limped along. “Water.”
Thump.
“Ow.” Olsen rubbed the impact point on the side of his head. Looking down, he saw a plastic canteen.
“Hurry and pick it up. Keep moving.” The guard strolled past, throwing an elbow into his side.
“Oof.”
“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” the bully chuckled.
Olsen held his ribs as he reached for the water. “Thank you.”
“It’s ‘thank you, Unteroffizier Kerry.’ Though I don’t imagine you can speak a civilized language, so corporal will do. One mustn’t lose their manners just because there’s a war on.”
Olsen considered himself a patient man. He had been picked on a thousand times and had developed a high tolerance for bullies like Kerry. There was something about the corporal’s long face and cocky grin that made this time different. Maybe it was his injuries or stress of combat. Whatever it was, he wanted to fight back. He wanted to kill th
e corporal.
“Well?” Kerry tilted his head.
Olsen wanted to charge. No, don’t be stupid. There were six guards supported by an armored car with a heavy machine gun on top. Seeking revenge now would get him beaten or worse. His face hardened. No, play for time. “Thank you, Corporal Kerry.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard was it? Move along.”
Olsen stared as his target walked away. Just you wait.
***
The drone bay was nearly empty. Veech found it a welcome sight after the cramped sections of the land-train. It felt like the enemy was closing in, leaving them nowhere to run.
The trio paused at the entrance to take in the situation. A pair of techs worked on a mini-tank in the center of the room. Their tools clanked against its armor plating as they worked, filling the cavern with harsh noise. It was the only machine present.
Stephanie tugged on his sleeve and jerked her head toward a man typing away at a computer terminal. She leaned in, standing on her toes to bring her lips to his ear. “That’s our best way into the system. We need to take it over while he’s still logged in.”
Veech nodded and learned toward Stanner. “Stay here. You take out the mechanics when I make my move. Then cover the doors.”
“Stay behind me, lieutenant. I’m gonna make this quick.”
Veech strolled toward the terminal. His casual approach wasn’t noticed. He’d rush if he had to, but each unnoticed step was a gift. The man working the station didn’t pay him any attention until it was too late.
Two yards away, the tech glanced at his stalker. He looked up from the screen and that was when Veech struck. He surged forward like a lion springing from the grass. The man’s head was wrapped in Veech’s arm before he had any idea his life was in danger.
Veech’s hard twist snapped the man’s neck. In one smooth motion, he released the corpse, drew his sidearm from under his tunic and fired on the last two before Stanner was able to open up. Sparks flew off the tank as the metallic walls bounced the sound. The ambush was deafening and brief. Caught in a crossfire, the unarmed techs didn’t stand a chance.
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