Krieger Platoon

by Jay Ivanovich

  “Ready as always, Benny! Are all the senators here?”

  “Yes sir, all but the speaker of the house and a few congressmen from Crystal City and Tundra City. I believe he’s running late due to car trouble, and I can’t say what’s keeping the others. Most of the news agencies for the entire planet are here too, including the Russians!” Wheeler exclaimed with excitement.

  The President was curious about the missing congressmen, this wasn’t something to miss as an elected official. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to begin without them then. How’s your family doing?”

  Mr. Wheeler hesitated for a moment, and was unusually dismissive. “They’re fine, sir… Thank you for asking.”

  A headset wearing technician came up to the President and motioned him over to the podium. “You’re on in 15 seconds, Mr. President!”

  McNeal walked up to podium on the oval stage. He straightened out his suit, and adjusted his tie; he had everything dry cleaned the day before so he should be fine, but his time in the Marine Corps taught him to always double check.

  The technician began to verbally count down, followed by hand signaling the last three seconds. The curtains rolled out, revealing the fully occupied four-hundred seat auditorium, as well as the dozens of traditional video cameras, and some of the newer holographic imagers that recreate a three dimensional image with the right video receiver or monitor.

  The sun was shining in brightly through the glass dome roof, and almost all of congress was here. Representatives and Senators from the 11 states and territories, as well as diplomats from the other nations on the planet, including Japan, India, the EU, and Russian. All that aside, it was time for business.

  McNeal smiled and spoke brightly. “Good Morning America! Good Morning to you Mr. Vice President, Senators and Representatives from the many states and territories of these great United States, distinguished guest, ladies and gentlemen. It is my great privilege to speak to you today for our first State of the Union address since this terrible crisis began. I know there are a lot of questions roaming around about some of the policies that have come across my desk lately, but-”

  Two figures dressed in Police SWAT uniforms walked in from the back entrance and began to shove and punch each other for a moment, before stopping and staring back toward the stage. A nearby security guard eyed them both curiously.

  That’s oddly unprofessional. “But…um, I will jump right into the thick of it! Firstly, the question about the increase in funding for education and school building. I can say that this was not a question at all for me, and the much needed funding will be sent to department of education immediately, so that the future citizens of this nation can share in the wealth that is a proper education! My top priority, as always, is the well-being of the citizens of these United States!”

  The entire auditorium began to clap excitedly.

  “Secondly, the bill proposing the closing of military forts, training facilities, and other such bases deemed unnecessary is clearly not in the interest of the people living on the frontier or within the colonies. The bill suggests that those funds could be transferred to purchasing better equipment for our soldiers and upgrading current defenses. As you know, the people of the frontier cities here and on other planets all face a constant threat of attack by bandits and pirates. If we decrease the level of security that those cities are provided even for a moment, then we put the lives of those citizens in grave danger. I will not allow such a bill to be passed that will so blatantly endangers the people of the United States, without providing a more suitable and safe alternative, so long as I am President!”

  The auditorium burst into clapping again, except for the congressmen from the large inner cities of Mars, who crossed their arms over their chests and stared with disappointment toward the President.

  “Thirdly, in regards to this very controversial bill that has been so affectionately named the ‘Surrender Act’. I studied this bill extensively inside and out; I spent more time reading over this bill in the past few weeks than I have spent with my own wife and daughters. For those of you who do not know, this bill proposed a full military and governmental merge into the European Union. That would mean European currency, European trade, and European style government. On paper this may look like a great idea because of the defensive power the EU would provide to our colonies, but what we end up losing is our identity and heritage as Americans. Though the decision was not easy for me to make, I stand by that this bill is NOT in the best interest of the United States, and therefore shall NEVER be signed into effect so long as I have anything to say about it!”

  Half of Congress stood up and began to wildly cheer and clap, while the other half of the room sat either unsure, or suddenly very concerned and angered. The Chiefs of Staff all began to clap, with the exception of Admiral Al Hakam or the Vice President…who were no longer in their seats or even in the auditorium.

  The President waited for the clapping to slow before beginning again. “Just because I declined this bill, does not mean I’m not willing to work with the European Union to strengthen our trading agreements and further expand our mutual protection of the frontier against all our common threats. I want to see our nations grow close, so we can all live in a time of peace and prosperity!”

  The two SWAT Officers began to walk briskly up toward the stage; the President pointed toward them, his tone very commanding. “Excuse me, but who are you two? You need to go back to your posts.”

  The two Officers rushed toward the President full speed and tried to climb up onto the stage. Four Secret service Agents rushed the two men from the stage door, only to be gunned down by the SWAT officers who both pulled out automatic weapons and began to fire indiscriminately into the crowded auditorium.

  Several more SWAT Officers rushed in from the back auditorium door and second floor balcony doors, and fired shots down toward the President and anyone and everyone who moved. The crowd screamed in fear and attempted to hide behind their seats or escape with their lives. The President dove behind his large metal podium and looked back behind the stage for security…but the technicians all rushed out the doors and slammed them shut. “Damnit!”

  The men continued the firefight with the secret service agents, who were pinned down just outside the doors on all sides of the auditorium, and began to slowly move toward the President. General Omar and Puller charged at one of the men closest to the stage, tackled him, and forcefully removed his very obviously German-EU made assault rifle and pistol, ending his life with a bullet point blank to the chest.

  General Puller stood up and began to fire at two of the men on the balcony with the acquired pistol, but took a round to the shoulder and fell down wounded. Omar rushed over, grabbed the pistol, and began to drag Puller behind a row of chairs. Omar fired a burst of bullets from his rifle toward one of the attackers on the stage, who began to rush the President. The man dropped dead and slid, weapon and all, right to the President’s right side. Omar pushed Puller under the seats to provide better cover for him, then took an unexpected bullet to the head, killing him instantly. Puller screamed out in rage and grabbed the assault rifle from Omar’s hands.

  One of the SWAT Officers jumped up on stage and attempted to rush the President; the President grabbed the sub-machine gun from the dead attacker’s hands, and dropped the new threat with a burst to the chest. The other attackers on the first floor turned to fire at the President, but were swarmed with bullets from the teams of now heavily outfitted Secret Service, FBI, and large variety of other first responders who flooded in from the back stage.

  The attackers on the balcony tried to hurry out of the door they came in, but were cut down in a cross fire from secret service agents on the other side of the door, and the teams now on the stage. One of the last living attackers jumped up on a set of chairs in the center of the room and attempted to shoot toward the President’s podium before being shot down.

  The room fell silent; the bodies of congressmen, news crews, and of the
attackers and defenders all lay scattered about in the now war torn building. The officers began to search the attacker’s bodies, and the civilians still alive in the room either tried to rush out, or were petrified in fear behind their seats.

  General Barsha stood up from her balcony seat, unharmed, and looked around in shock at the carnage before her. General Puller stood up, wounded but angry, and walked over to help the President to his feet. “God damn, Sir… And you thought a desk job would be boring...”

  The President laughed gravely at the joke, then clutched his arm in pain; he had been hit and didn’t even notice until now. “Never a dull moment, right? Is General Omar…?”

  Puller nodded and twisted his face in disgust. “Fuckers are going to pay, whoever they are!”

  One of the Secret Service Agents doing a body search called out in alarm. “All these guys are wearing explosives!” Another secret service Agent jumped onto stage and grabbed the President by his unwounded arm. “Sir! We need to get you out of here, now!”

  A severely injured attacker on the balcony slowly stood up, coughed up blood, and clutched what looked like a radio transmitter tightly against his chest. The Secret Service agents all aimed their weapons and began to scream out for the hostile to put hands up and to drop whatever it was he is holding.

  General Puller didn’t wait an instant and pushed the rest of the Agents out of the way as he led the President toward the stage exit. “It’s time to leave, Sir!”

  The attacker on the balcony moaned in pain, but managed to painfully scream out. “Victory!” Before detonating himself…and the explosive charges on all of his fellow attackers into one massive fireball.

  Chapter 12 – Standing Down

  The ARV Tank crews parked themselves in triangle formation in center of the police stations first floor, allowing the platoon to relax in relative safety behind their armored hulls. The fighting across the Camp Iron had stopped nearly two hours ago, and similarly all signs of the raiders had vanished along with it. Unfortunately there wasn’t a single consistent vehicle trail or foot print for miles in any direction; it’s almost like something had erased the tracks all together… This whole thing was FUBAR.

  Bag was leaning up against Valor’s ARV and patched into the long range radio amplifier on yet another command update call. He gave a quick glance around to the members of his platoon; several were patrolling around outside the building in pairs, while the others began to unwind and lay about the building from one hell of a morning. None of them had slept much at all the previous night, and it showed.

  Brett spoke loudly over the radio, bringing Bag back to the conversation at hand. “…Bag, are you still there?”

  He had almost forgotten that he was on a call with Patriot. ”Yeah…sorry…just been a long morning.” He said with a hint of fatigue.

  “That’s alright son...You all did a hell of a thing today. Don’t think for a moment that everyone here doesn’t appreciate it. However, as much as I hate to say it, I need all of Krieger to pack up and head back to base immediately.”

  Bag hesitated in disbelief. “Brett, are you being serious? You had us respond to this distress call and now you’re going to pull us back? Every minute we waste here, we have less of a chance of finding what happened to all these missing colonists! Sir, there is no way we can leave now!”

  Brett sighed loudly, though he didn’t budge. “This isn’t the time to argue. Normally I would agree with you completely, but as of an hour ago we went to DEFCON 3.”

  “…DEFCON 3? What the hell is going on?” The telltale ache of an approaching migraine already reared its ugly head after the pressure of battle set in, and now DEFCON 3? Really? There’s no way this was just a really bad joke… Bag sighed to himself.

  Brett cleared his throat, and was a little more apologetic. “I actually have more bad news, the CIA is now involved in your operation because they think it’s somehow related to what’s going on. They’re sending out a team to retrieve that prisoner of yours. They should be there in the next few minutes. When they arrive you are to hand him over, no questions asked.”

  Bag grunted and spoke under his breath. “This is bullshit…”

  Brett shot back harshly. “I’m not asking you to like it, I’m telling you to do it!” Brett took in a deep breath, and then spoke quietly into the radio. “Look, we’ll talk about this when you get back… I give you my word, we WILL pursue this lead again and find out what happened to those colonists. Until then I need your team back here.” There was a long pause where neither Bag nor Brett spoke; Brett broke the silence again, no longer whispering. “One of your tanks was damaged and has a broken axel right? How longs that repair going to take?”

  Bag sighed and glanced toward the back gate of the ARV. “Valor and Alighten are working on it now, they gave me an estimate of about one to two hours. The damage wasn’t too bad…it was just deep. They’re fabricating the parts for it right now.”

  “Ok…be back to base no later than 20:00 tonight. Understood?”

  “Yes Sir.” Bag responded robotically.

  “Just be careful until then…Patriot out.” The feed went dead.

  Bag severed the link to the antenna on his wrist coms, then turned his back to the tank and slowly slid down it until he was sitting on the ground and let out a long and exhausted sigh. Brett’s last words sounded more like a warning than a well wish… And that outburst of his; ‘I’m not asking you to like it, I’m telling you to do it!’ he had said. Hmm. Something had to be flustering him pretty badly to prompt an angry bark like that.

  A moment later, a now grease and dirt covered Valor walked over and plopped down next to him, as cheerful as ever. “Yo Bag.”

  “What’s up, Valor?” Bag wasn’t quite as cheerful.

  Valor laughed and likewise leaned against the tank. “Nothing bro, just seeing how you doing?”

  “Oh, thanks man, I appreciate that… I’m fine, just dealing with politics again…” Bag quickly changed the subject. “Hey, I heard you charged straight into that group of raider vehicles. Not that I think you wouldn’t, just wanted to confirm it.”

  Valor beamed with pride. “Oh yeah, me and Alighten showed those fools who they were messing with! We got out of range of that jammer shit and the computer just lit…them…up! Hah! Well…not that I need a computer you know. I got plenty of them without it!”

  Bag chuckled wholeheartedly. “That’s awesome man. But how did the back door get blown off?”

  Valor curled his face in disgust and anger. “Some loser came up behind us and hit the door with a rocket. I lit them up with the unguided though! Haha, sent enough rockets at them to blow them ‘em up a hundred times over! Hey maybe a thousand!”

  Valor continued laughing just as Alighten called from inside the troop bay with mild agitation. “Valor! Are you going to help me with these repairs or what?”

  Valor sighed and shook his head as if he were disappointed. Bag knew better though. “Uh…he always needs something. Just so needy all the time!” Valor stood up and walked into the troop bay of Armor One. Alighten dropped some sort of tool on the metal deck, making a loud metallic clank noise. “Damnit…hey can you grab that for me?”

  Valor yelled out dramatically. “WHY ARE YOU ARE SO NEEDY!? NEED EE!”

  Bag laughed and shook his head. Those two… He stood and stretched his back with a small series of pops, then moved into the troop bay of Armor-Three. Hawkins was on prisoner watch still…but his turn should have been up already. He had scraggly stubble on his face that was just barely within regulations, and his arms were completely tattooed all the way to his neck with images that pointed more to gang affiliation than to what a soldier would have. He didn’t particularly seem the military type, but Bag refused to judge the man by anything but his actions.

  Hawkins sat up straight and nodded respectfully to him as soon as he walked in. “Hey sir.”

  Bag sat down two seats down from him. “Hello. Its Hawkins right?”

  �
�Yeah, but everyone just calls me Hawk.”

  “Alright Hawk. You’re from Boise, right?”

  “Yeah, the state of Boise. Haha, born and raised. How did you know that, Sir?” Hawkins grinned.

  Bag shrugged. “Heard it from the grape vine; rumors travel fast around here. I actually had a few friends from Boise back on Earth. That was forever ago though when I was still in the Coast Guard.”

  Hawk passed Bag a curious look at the last comment. “I’ve heard some of the guys mention that, but I didn’t think it was true.”

  “What? That I was in the Coast Guard?”

  “Yeah. I mean no offense, it just doesn’t make any sense since you’re an Officer in the Army….leading a Special Forces group.” Hawkins had a hint of challenge to his voice, though Bag took as more a wanting to understand the obvious hypocrisy of it. It was a question often asked, though he still felt difficulty explaining it.

  Bag took in a deep breath and started slowly. “Well, I was a pilot in the Coast Guard firstly. I had asked to be stationed closer to my family, but instead I was sent an entire planet away. Well, it did kind of saved me from the break down on Earth…” Bag drifted away in thought for a moment, Hawkins didn’t seem to notice. “Anyways, once the Coast Guard stations here were all shut down, I put in for a branch transfer. Someone in the Army apparently thought I was a good leader, because they offered me this job instead of the obvious pilot job. I was just a Lieutenant Junior Grade at the time, and the Army was hurting badly for any Officers what so ever. I still don’t understand it myself, but they sent me to a crash course in infantry tactics and then put me in charge as a temporary CO, but they never ended up transferring in anyone else to replace me.”