Royal Hues of Blue: Book One

by Greg Gotti

  John took a quick count of the men around him. He saw a few dozen, maybe 50 at most. The rest were either lying on the ground wounded or dead, or they were scattered throughout the trees.

  “Everyone form on me!” he ordered. “Cease fire and stay quiet. We are going to move through the trees and head back uphill.”

  “UP-hill?” Hamilton answered incredulously. “We are going back into that?”

  “It’s the one thing they won’t expect,” John replied as he began moving quickly back up the hill. “Besides, this is a textbook ambush. They knew we were coming. That means they’ll have our retreat blocked the way we came. Our only hope is to go blow that station as planned and escape in the resulting pandemonium. Major Schwarz’s unit will already be coming to reinforce us after hearing the gunfire. Any Ristas at the base of the hill won’t be looking for enemies behind them. We will meet up and move out together.”

  They ran through the trees holding their rifles in front of them as they made for the power station. The Ristas were unable to locate them at first and John could hear them off to his right still rushing downhill. There was gunfire behind them as the Ristas pursued those who had scattered into the trees. John could do nothing for them now. Even if there was no way out for them, they needed to make sure they took out that power station to clear the way for the invasion. He figured they had maybe five or six minutes before the Ristas realized what they’d done. If they were lucky enough, they could disable the power station from the inside using grenades and get away before the Ristas returned from downhill. He hoped Schwarz didn’t run into any surprises of his own, or they were all dead.

  Schwarz stood stone-faced on the adjacent hill as he heard the gunfire erupt on the hill where Wallace was. His men shot to their feet and looked to follow him to reinforce Wallace, but Schwarz remained where he was.

  “Stand down,” he ordered them.

  “Sir! Captain Wallace needs …” one of them began.

  “I said stand down,” Schwarz barked. “We aren’t to move until we see the signal.”

  “Respectfully, sir, they can’t give the signal if they’re under attack!”

  “We don’t know that. That might have been the sound of them taking out whatever resistance they encountered there. We wait until we see the signal, then we move. Now, stand down!”

  The men gave him confused looks, but complied with his order. They watched helplessly as less than a mile away, the trees were filled with gunshots, flashes and screams.

  “No way that’s coming from our boys,” muttered one of them. “They’re getting cut down.”

  Schwarz’s expression never changed. He stood motionless looking out over the hill next to them. A tear formed at the corner of his eye, and he blinked it away.

  “I’m sorry, Johnny,” he whispered.

  Fuentes and his men came thundering down the hill, mowing down the scattered Soona left and right. Wallace had led a surprisingly sizable team through Rista territory undetected, and Fuentes was impressed. Had they not been tipped off by their spies, Wallace would have succeeded in his mission, and the Soona would have swept over their land the way a wave sweeps over the sand. He kept pushing downhill, knowing his men at the bottom would keep the Soona from escaping him. He hadn’t seen Wallace yet. He longed to take a lock of his red hair as a trophy. He ran into the trees to his left and saw the muzzle flash of a lone Soona who’d been separated from the rest. Fuentes ducked behind a thick tree just as a flurry of bullets flew past him. He saw one of his men approach firing past him and heard the Soona cry out as he was hit. Fuentes whipped around the tree and moved quickly to where the man lie screaming in agony as he clutched at where the bullets had torn through his collarbone and shoulder. Fuentes shot him in the head and moved on. He saw several soldiers approaching him and almost shot at them before realizing they were Ristas coming up from the base of the hill.

  “Where is Wallace?” He shouted at them. They made gestures signifying they didn’t know, and Fuentes froze in confusion. They had pushed almost to the bottom of the hill but there was no sign of the Soona commander. How could…? The realization came to him all at once.

  “He circled back up the hill!” he shouted at the swarm of Ristas around him. “Form a line!”

  John led his men to the edge of the trees by the power station and stopped to take in their surroundings. There had to be at least two full companies of Rista soldiers protecting it, as well as at least six machine gun turrets that he could see. They had definitely known they were coming. He felt his heart sink within him. There was no way they were getting anywhere near that power station. Even if they were willing to die in the process, they simply had no way of breaking through the Rista defenses, even with Schwarz’s help. He needed to intercept Schwarz before he ran into the trap himself.

  “We’ll never get through that,” he told his men as he turned away. “We have to meet up with Schwarz and get out of here.”

  “Where are we headed, Captain?” one of the men asked.

  “We will meet him in the middle and escape through the hole he made getting in here before it closes up. We have to hurry. Let’s go!”

  They snuck away from the power station and hurried down the hill towards where Schwarz would be approaching. John took the lead and managed to get close to the bottom of the hill before he found himself wondering where the hell Schwarz was. Had they been ambushed as well? That was a possibility. He hoped that wasn’t the case because it would mean they were trapped. He couldn’t see the Ristas in front of him, but he knew they were there. They had to be. Their only hope was to charge through the trees and try to break through whatever perimeter was set up around the hill. They could only have so many machine guns, and he doubted they’d have any set up here where there was no clearing. He could hear the Ristas somewhere above them coming down the hill with shouts and all kinds of noise.

  “We have one way out of here. We have to go full frontal assault on whatever is out there and break through. There is nowhere to retreat; nowhere to take cover. We have to run and shoot a hole to go through. I don’t care how many of us fall. If you manage to get through, make your way back home and tell them we have a traitor somewhere. They knew we were coming. Everybody locked and loaded?”

  The men slapped fresh magazines into place and looked at John with eyes as big as quarters as they nodded. He felt a stab of pity for them, even though he knew he wasn’t likely to survive any more than they were.

  “Okay, let’s spread out so we all have clear lanes of fire. Just shoot directly ahead of you and don’t stop for anything. I don’t care who falls; nobody stops. Got it?”

  The men formed a line side by side; just a few meters from each other as the Ristas came thundering down the hill behind them.

  “We’re out of time,” John said. “Charge!”

  They ran through the trees and reached the bottom of the hill. They weaved through the trees at a full run as they hit level ground and saw the muzzle flashes around them. He heard a flare go up, and suddenly the sky was full of light. John lifted the barrel of his rifle and fired into the area ahead of him as bullets whizzed all around him. He used his great speed to pull ahead of his men, hoping to draw enemy fire so more of them could find a hole to break through. He heard screams as some of them fell behind him, and he suddenly drew near enough to see two Ristas reloading their rifles directly in front of him. He cut them down before they could react and blew past them as they fell.

  Suddenly, John found himself in the clear. All of the gunfire was behind him as he kept sprinting through the trees. He knew he was running on the mother of all adrenaline rushes as he kept up his pace without the slightest hint of fatigue. John saw searchlights sweeping the trees to his right, and he veered slightly to his left as he dashed up the face of another hill. His unit lie cut to shreds behind him, and he had no idea which way Soona territory was for the moment. There would be no invasion now. The war would return to its status quo. With a thousand Ristas pursu
ing him, he couldn’t afford to stop. John Wallace ran through the trees and into the hills; away from his dreams of ending this war for good.

  Chapter Three

  Colonel Martinez stood watching the High General pacing back and forth just outside the large tent that served as the Rista command center. Rodriguez was furious at being kept in the dark about the RID ambush of Wallace and his men, and Martinez was respectfully explaining why it had been necessary.

  “Don’t you think it might be a good idea for the commander of the entire army to know about an operation of such importance being conducted just miles from where our enemies are staging an invasion?” Rodriguez’s face shone red with anger in the light of the lamps mounted outside the doorway.

  “Respectfully, sir, it is like I told you. The Executive Board fears the Soona spy network has infiltrated our command structure,” Martinez said shaking his head. “I personally wanted to tell you, of course, but I have my own orders to follow.”

  “I have had it up to here with you RID types,” snapped Rodriguez. “If you’re so good at keeping up with Soona operations, why did none of you know Wallace was about to hit us with such a major operation when he took a half-century of territorial gains away in a single month? You’d think you might have noticed the enemy massing that many troops at our border before they invaded our land?” Rodriguez’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he spoke the last sentence. Martinez took it calmly; his face never showing the least amount of displeasure.

  “I don’t think Wallace is going to be a problem anymore, sir.”

  “There is one small detail to address before we say that, Colonel: We don’t have him yet. Last I knew, our men are still searching for him. Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. This is how things work in actual combat. The devil is always in these things we call “details.”

  Martinez bit his lip, and Rodriguez turned away from him. The High General was in one of his moods, but Martinez had just overseen a successful operation that had saved the Federation. He was not in the mood to be lectured by a man who should be thanking him. Legend or not, Rodriguez should know to be more respectful of the RID and its officers. He wanted to turn his back and walk away, but he thought better of it. Even the RID had to show deference to the hero of the Rista Federation.

  “Wallace and his men are scattered throughout the woods around the tower, sir. Now that daybreak is upon us, we will hunt them down quickly. Dead or alive, John Wallace will be in our possession before the sun goes down. He simply has nowhere to go.”

  Rodriguez scoffed as he looked to the eastern sky where the horizon was turning from black to blue as the sun prepared to rise.

  “Colonel, as a former member of our Special Forces, you should know better than to assume the capture of an elite soldier like Wallace. You were once one of our best; maybe the best, which is why I cut you a bit of slack most of the time. Just make sure you don’t end up being the one who let John Wallace get away. I am not going to cover for you concerning an operation where I was left in the dark; not even a little bit.”

  Martinez opened his mouth to reply, but the High General walked off without another word. He watched him go and felt a mixture of contempt and relief wash over him. Rodriguez was the greatest hero of the Rista people, which made him the one officer who need not fear the RID’s national police force. They couldn’t just make him disappear as they had so many others, and Martinez knew the entire military would side with their High General if he were to be arrested. He kicked a rock he saw at his feet and hurried off to get updated on the search for Wallace.

  John Wallace ran through the woods carrying his pistol in his hand. The Ristas had known they were coming; he was sure of it. His unit had been caught in an ambush so thorough and overwhelming, he had little doubt that his entire unit had been wiped out. They had been driven into the woods and scattered throughout the trees as the Ristas cut them down one by one. The sun had not yet broken the horizon, and John had no way of knowing which way he was going. He had run deep into the unknown terrain, hoping to lose his pursuers and make his way to the rally point where hopefully some of his unit would have survived to regroup. He couldn’t figure out where he was after hours of fleeing through the woods in the darkness. He knew there were Ristas searching for him and any of his men who had survived the ambush. He had avoided them so far because they seemed to have formed their search grid just behind where he was and were slowly contracting inward towards the tower. They’d realize their error soon, and he needed to find a way to get back to Soona territory before they had every Rista within 30 miles hunting for him.

  He heard a sound off in the distance as he worked his way up another hill. He stopped for a moment and tried to restrain his heavy breathing. Dogs, he realized. They were tracking him by scent now. He thought for a moment. He needed to get to water and slow them down. He knew there were a lot of small creeks in the area that drained into the main tributary to the Arcangel. He hurried off again, knowing he couldn’t let the canine trackers get close enough to release their dogs. All he had left to defend himself was his pistol and hunting knife, and gunshots would alert the Ristas to his location. He headed up a steep incline as the sky began to brighten overhead. Soon, he would need to try to find a place to hide in the hopes of waiting the Ristas out until nightfall.

  He worked his way to more level ground and began going down the other side of the hill as he heard the barking dogs growing louder behind him. He realized they must have found his scent and were following up the hill where he now was. He pushed himself to his limit as he worked his way down the side of the hill as fast he could without falling. He came to a break in the trees where he could see the valley below him and realized he was at the edge of a cliff. He hurried along the edge and quickly realized there was no way down the hill on this side. It was one of the many hills with steep faces that dropped hundreds of feet to the valley below. He found himself standing in a creek that drained from the mountaintop far above him. He heard the barking of the dogs growing closer as they climbed the hill behind him, and he stared blankly at the water rushing past his boots as he thought frantically. He couldn’t go back the way he came. He was not going to be taken alive by those dirty savages. He would throw himself off the cliff before he allowed that to happen. An idea came to him, and he took off running in the water, following its flow down a surprisingly twisted path that wound down the hillside until he came to the spot where it spilled over the edge and heard the welcome roar of a waterfall. He peered over the side and saw a pool beneath the waterfall about 40 feet below. If he could get down there, he could finish descending the hill on foot. He heard the dogs approaching and knew he didn’t have time to look for a better way down. He took a deep breath and jumped from the waterfall, not knowing if he would survive the fall.

  He hit the surface of the water cleanly and was surprised to find the pool even deeper than he had hoped. He arched his body to avoid hitting the bottom of the pool and had slowed significantly when he crashed into some sort of rock. He felt something crack in his ribs and the air was knocked out of him. He kicked off the bottom and managed to break the surface as he tried to breathe. He felt pain in his torso unlike any other he’d ever experienced as managed to pull himself out of the water. He knew he had to keep moving. He couldn’t let his pursuers see him, and it was getting lighter by the minute. He pulled himself to his feet through sheer force of will. His every step was now agony as his side screamed in pain with every jolt of his footsteps striking the ground. Wallace knew he had bought himself time by making the jump, for he was pretty sure nobody had seen him. They would search every inch of the higher ground before even considering that he might have done something so foolish.

  John ran in a lumbering fashion through the cover of the trees, trying to get as far as he could before stopping. He finished descending the hill and began making his way up the side of an even bigger one. He knew that it was only adrenaline keeping him mobile; as soon as he stopped to rest, the
severity of his injuries would incapacitate him once the adrenal rush had subsided. He had no idea where he was, other than knowing that he was on the south side of the river, which placed him on the opposite side far from his own territory. He felt his body betraying him as he tried to fight on through the pain. He felt the stabbing agony with each step, and he realized that he was beginning to stumble. He gritted his teeth and resolved to put the pain out of his mind, but he soon found himself collapsing just as he approached a clearing. He forced himself to his feet, but the next thing he knew he was falling to the ground. The most searing pain of his life shot through him as his body met the forest floor. He willed himself to stand and staggered a dozen steps or so before falling again. He knew he couldn’t stand up again. He had nothing left after hours of evading the Ristas and he felt as though as he broken every rib on one side of his body. He wondered how long it would be before they found him lying there. He suddenly realized he was standing again. He felt as though his mind and body existed separate from each other as he fought to keep moving. He knew hitting the ground again meant certain death, and he tried to tell himself the overwhelming pain he felt was actually the feeling of a pleasant tingling working its way up his side. His mind tricks were failing him as he felt what was left of his strength leaving him. He saw the ground suddenly rush up to slam into him, and he felt his consciousness fade as his vision blurred. He saw a shadowy figure emerge from the bushes and attempted to raise his pistol in defense, only to realize he was no longer holding it. He took one final breath before the world went dark.

  Fuentes felt his rage growing as squad after squad reported to the center of the search grid without having found Wallace. They had counted almost 200 Soona killed or captured, but there was no sign of Wallace yet. He could not figure out how the man could have possibly gotten outside the search area without at least having been spotted. He would have to have run like a mountain cat to have gotten far enough to avoid being caught within the search grid. Wallace was his prize; his trophy and ticket to the fast track for promotion through the ranks. He was not about to let him slip through his fingers now. He snapped his fingers at a young man standing nearby and watched him hurry over.