Bridgehead: Invasion Earth (Book Book 2)

by Chris Lowry

  Steph grabbed Babe’s elbow and jerked him off Jake. She twisted his arm around, leveraged him down to his knees, then flipped him over onto his stomach.

  Babe shuddered a muffled groan as she held his arm up and back, shoulder digging into the dirt.

  ‘You know kung fu?” said Lt.

  She shook her head.

  “I didn’t know I knew it.”

  “Let him go. Be cool, Babe. Everybody, just be cool right now. I need to do me some thinking.”

  But what he wanted to do was pray a little bit for Suds. He had liked the man and now he was one more down in his squad.

  They had taken the fight to the Lick, had worked to make the Lick fear them, and in doing so, killed a lot of damn people. Or got them killed, which didn’t make much difference in his mind.

  “You think anyone’s still alive in there, Lt?” Waldo asked.

  Bonney looked at the small squad around him. Babe nursed his wounded shoulder as he shot glares at Jake and Steph.

  Neither were hurt bad, he knew. The suits had protected them.

  Weber and Renard stood to one side, armed now with conventional weapons, and waited.

  He wasn’t sure if they were from Mars, or not, but they played the part well. Just a couple of soldiers waiting for orders.

  He could see his reflection in Waldo’s faceplate, his own faceless helmet hiding the doubt and worry in his eyes.

  No matter what the man inside felt, the image he saw was intense. Inspiring.

  “Fake it til you make it,” he told them.

  “Lt?”

  “We came here to get Suds and turn you two loose to High Command,” said Lt. “Guess that’s gone to hell now, so we’re on to plan B.”

  “What’s plan B?” asked Weber.

  “It’s time for a doctor’s visit.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I don’t see how you expect me to get work done with you breathing down my neck like that?”

  Crockett backed away as Doc swung his arms wide to get some room.

  “I was just curious about what you were doing,” said Crockett. “No need to get testy.”

  “Your Lt gave me a task to complete,” Doc grumbled. “And I am finding it difficult to do given the constraints I’m working under.”

  Crockett glanced at the pristine work bench, the LED lights bathing everything in a soft glow. The solar collectors on the roof were powering dozens of electrical outlets, providing enough juice to operate the tools Doc needed to work on the suits and spread some throughout the compound.

  “We’ve been constrained the past three years, Doc,” said Crockett. “You tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you.”

  Doc waved him off.

  “It’s easier for me to find what I’m looking for than to take the time to describe it.”

  He tottered to the far side of the work bench and began picking through the drawers full of miniature pieces that would become the robotic guts of a suit.

  Burmage paused by the still open wall and cleared his throat.

  Crockett watched Doc for a second, then moved toward the opening.

  “What do we have?”

  “Food,” Burmage beamed.

  It looked out of place on his sallow face, long out of practice, thought Crockett. But the man was trying to make up for lost time since they gained access to the inner room.

  He double checked the two civilian guards posted on either side of the opening. They were still in place, rifles resting in their cradled arms.

  “You boys go eat,” Crockett told the two. “I’ll stand watch.”

  They shot him grateful looks, and left him with Burmage to go grab their portion of stew.

  There still wasn’t much, not by a long shot. But it was more than they had I months, and with patrols hitting the woods around the hidden base, the hunt could keep starvation at bay for months.

  “How is the progress?” Burmage peered over Crockett’s shoulder to get a peek inside.

  “He’s still bitching.”

  Burmage glanced up at the thin strip of LED lights that ran the length of the corridor, casting light down where none had been seen for three years.

  “I don’t see much to complain about.”

  “He doesn’t want Lt to be disappointed,” Crockett explained. “A disappointed lieutenant is an angry lieutenant. You wouldn’t like him when he was angry.”

  “I didn’t like him when he was happy either,” Burmage offered. “But that’s how I feel about all men of violence.”

  “I’m a man of violence,” Crockett sounded offended.

  “I don’t like you either.”

  “Well fuck you too, Burmage,” Crockett laughed. “Don’t hold it in.”

  Burmage smiled.

  “I don’t,” he said. “But I’m grateful. I don’t have to like you to appreciate you, do I?”

  “He was like that before the aliens invaded,” said Doc from the opening.

  Burmage squeaked, startled.

  “Find what you were looking for?”

  “No,” said Doc.

  “You should let me help.”

  “The programming is done,” said Doc. “None of that has changed. I just need to upload and adjust the components.”

  “I could give it an upgrade.”

  “The Tech One’s couldn’t handle the upgrades,” Doc said.

  “Oh yes,” Burmage rubbed his hands together. “I recall that.”

  “He’s itching to get in there, Doc.”

  “Not until our companions have returned,” said Doc. “Bonney’s orders.”

  Burmage looked as if he was about to protest, but bit it back and swallowed it down with visible effort.

  “Go eat Doc,” said Crockett. “You need some fuel for your thinking cap.”

  “Thinking cap!” Doc snapped his fingers and turned back into the room. He hustled to a different part of the workshop and searched the drawers on that side.

  It took two drawers, but he gave a eureka shout, and went back to work on the partially assembled suit on the bench.

  “Guess he’s not hungry,” said Crockett as he turned back to guard the door.

  Burmage didn’t answer, just watched inside the room with a look of longing on his face.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “Days,” Babe grumbled. “That’s how long it’s going to take to get back to the suits.”

  The squad marched along a game trail through the woods next to the road.

  The pace they set was brisk, leaving Weber and Renard huffing for air as they struggled to keep up.

  Waldo and Jake offered to carry their rucksacks, which helped at first. But the speed with which the suits moved was difficult for the two normal men to maintain.

  “Can’t go any faster,” said Lt. “We’d lose them two to who knows what.”

  “It’s two days there,” Babe continued. “Then how far to Lutz?”

  “I don’t know Babe.”

  “He’s tough,” said Waldo. “He can hang on.”

  “Not if they’re torturing him.”

  “They don’t know he’s one of us.”

  “But the uniform,” said Babe.

  “They all had uniforms,” Lt reminded him. “Every soldier they picked up from the compound. Besides, Lutz can take care of himself. Least til we get there.”

  “If we get there,” Babe muttered.

  “Hold up,” Weber called out. He pitched against a tree and struggled to catch his breath.

  Renard slid down beside him, rubbing his wounded leg.

  “We can’t keep this up,” he said.

  Lt looked at the bulge in Danish’s ruck, the outline of armor pressed against the thin material.

  One suit, two men. He shook his head. It wouldn’t work.

  He whistled instead, long and sharp.

  The abrupt sound startled Steph and Jake, making them jump.

  “He still out there?” Waldo asked.

  “Never left,” said Lt.
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  They waited a few minutes, and a shadow moved out of the trees. It was a man shaped bush, leaves swishing and swaying in a non-existent breeze.

  “I’m busy,” said the man in a repurposed ghillie suit.

  “Sorry to disturb your nap,” said Lt. “You got eyes on a patrol around here.”

  “Maybe.”

  “These two need watching while you point us in the right direction.”

  A leaf covered hand reached up and pulled netting and a hat away from his face. Sherill stared at Lt for a moment, eyes hard.

  “I’m not babysitting.”

  “We don’t need watching,” Renard pushed himself off the ground.

  “They can’t keep up,” Lt explained.

  “You’re going to bust a patrol while you wait for them to catch up with you?”

  “Something like that,” Lt drawled. “Why don’t you take your finger and point us in the right direction to do some good. We’ll kill us a patrol while you bring them along.”

  Sherill sighed.

  “I don’t have a suit.”

  “You got one of them bandito’s practically brand new ghillies.”

  “No computer in it,” Sherill huffed. “Low tech.”

  “It works, don’t it?”

  “I could do some good in one,” he said.

  “You do plenty good with that long rifle of yours,” Lt told him. “And I need your help.”

  He said it like it cost him something. Sherill nodded, seemed to understand, as if a secret communication passed between them.

  “The Licks have a run about six klicks west. You stay on this route, it connects. If I was going to do it, there’s a crossroads as pretty as an X where they meet. High ground on the east side. Good spot to set up.”

  “If you was doing it,” Lt said.

  Sherill nodded.

  “How regular?”

  Sherill made a show of looking at his wrist, the dangling leaves and moss shivering as he did so. There was no watch there.

  “Regular,” he answered. “That’s as close a time as I can get.”

  Lt squinted in the direction he indicated, then looked at Jake and Steph.

  “You need help, Sherill?”

  “For them? Please,” he scoffed.

  “They said they were on Mars,” Babe told him.

  “Really?” Sherill regarded the two veterans. “Martians, huh? Got collected.”

  It was Weber’s turn to regard him. Renard didn’t bow down, but didn’t look at him either.

  “Not my lucky day,” Weber said.

  “But here you are and Mars is gone.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, measuring, eyes roaming as each took in what the other had to offer.

  “I’ll be fine alone,” said Sherill.

  Lt nodded.

  “Two hours.”

  “About that,” said Sherill. “If they can keep up.”

  Lt led Babe, Waldo, Steph and Jake in a trot through the woods.

  The nano’s flowed through his bloodstream, working to repair the microtears in his muscles even as they happened.

  He imagined the tiny robots breaking down the lactic acid in his legs before it had time to build up. Imagined them working on the air sacs in his lungs, helping them expand and transfer oxygen to his blood stream.

  He wasn’t tired. He wasn’t fatigued. The rifle on his arm felt weightless, the pack on his back no more than feathers.

  He ran faster.

  His squad increased speed to keep up, and he could tell the miniatures were working on them too.

  They reached the crossroad in twenty minutes, none of them out of breath.

  “That was-.” Waldo grinned.

  “Fucking amazing,” Lt finished for him.

  And it was. They all felt that way judging by the look on their faces.

  Babe grinned at him.

  “You want two on the far ridge to set up a cross fire?”

  Lt hefted his rifle.

  “I was thinking a little more scalpel than baseball bat this time, Babe.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Weber and Renard followed Sherill through the trees.

  “Sure you don’t want to walk behind us?” Weber spoke to his back. “We could jump you, take your weapon.”

  They heard him laugh.

  “You could jump me,” he agreed.

  “But your weapon?” Renard asked.

  “You have guns. Nothing to be gained by hopping on my back.”

  They paced him in silence, and even though they weren’t as fast as the suits, they made good time and arrived at the crossroads in two hours and fifteen minutes.

  Lt sat under a tree, visor propped open as he waited for their approach.

  “You’re late,” he said.

  Sherill waved his empty wrist.

  “Watch broke,” he said. “Can’t rush a good walk in the woods.”

  Lt pushed off the tree and propped his blaster over his shoulder.

  “Nothing beats a good walk,” he said as he led them to the asphalt on the crossroads. “Unless you can hitch a ride.”

  Babe and Waldo sat in the open cockpit of a hovercraft studying the controls while Jake and Steph watched them debate the purpose of levers and buttons.

  Sherill made a pleased noise in his throat.

  Scorch marks marred the smooth surface, but it floated four feet off the ground in a smooth hover.

  “It’s gonna be a tight fit,” said Lt.

  He helped Weber, then Renard onto the smooth skirted edge and they scrambled into the open space.

  Sherill pulled himself up and settled on the edge of the cockpit.

  Lt hopped up with ease and stood behind Babe.

  “Who drew the short straw?”

  Waldo put his hands on the yoke.

  “We think we figured it out,” he said.

  One of his fingers reached out. He tried not to wince as he jammed a button.

  The hum of the engine moved up a notch, then another. Waldo eased the yoke forward.

  The hovercraft stuttered to a start, causing everyone inside the cockpit to grab an edge for balance.

  Sherill slid off the edge and into the cockpit floor.

  “Probably safer down there,” Lt warned.

  The big man cradled his rifle and wished for a seat belt.

  But he didn’t need it. Waldo smoothed out the take off as the hover craft accelerated over the blacktop.

  It gained speed, wind whipping across their helmets.

  Weber and Renard ducked down on the floor since they weren’t protected by suits.

  Lt gripped the back of the pilot’s chair and watched the road. He felt a thrill in the pit of his stomach as they raced along. It had been three years since he’d gone this fast, and he had forgotten how much he loved the feeling of speed.

  The hovercraft cut their time to less than an hour to reach the hidden compound.

  Lt tapped Waldo on the shoulder as they reached a five mile mark and used his finger to point him down.

  Waldo pulled the yoke back in increments, reducing speed and brought it to an almost smooth stop.

  “Valet this damn thing,” Lt said as he hopped over the side.

  “I can take it all the way, Lt. It’s easy to control.”

  “Waldo, I’m glad to hear it and I’ve got no doubt in my mind, you’re the man for the job. But if this thing’s got a tracker on it, I just as soon as not take it to our secret suit base.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Sherill, you keep watch on it.”

  Sherill didn’t say a word, just slipped over the side and disappeared into the trees.

  The others joined Lt on the ground.