Nick was sitting next to the Mongolian cops in the van’s third row. The two cops were still smiling widely and talking excitedly to each other in quick whispers. Nick tried to pick up what they were saying but found it tough, as he didn’t speak Mongolian at all.
Gabriel Martinez was in the seat in front of Nick and turned around to face him, grinning. “And to think I was pissed at you for getting me thrown in with you fucking Mechoes. You’re about to have it much worse than I did, pal. Sucker punching didn’t work out for ya this time, did it?” His voice had a definite edge to it, an animal growl that made his smile look feral and filled his words with bile.
Nick smiled. “Ah, to be young. Remember, kiddo. Sucker ain’t the one doing the punching.”
***
Neal immediately turned Nick over to a pair of uniformed Military Police as soon as they reached Staging Area November. He assured Nick this was for his own protection because Captain Sayed was in Echo for shooting a junior officer who’d disagreed with him in the real Marines. The MPs took Nick to a holding cell in what had once been the bottom level of a parking garage. The cage had been set up in a corner of the garage, bracing two floor-to-ceiling iron grates against the concrete walls. Two armed guards stood in front of Nick’s cage, waiting for Nick to try something, anything.
Nick, however, didn’t plan on attempting escape. He decided instead to sit on the small folding chair in the cell and say nothing. He guessed there wasn’t a whole lot more they could do to him—he was already in a suicide squad, and Nick had figured out relatively quickly that the powers-that-be didn’t want to waste able-bodied soldiers.
The combined Echo unit had returned from Port Baikal just after one in the afternoon—it was well past nightfall when someone finally appeared to deal with Nick. A tall, thin man in regular Marine fatigues walked out of the relative darkness of the parking garage to the dim circle of light thrown by the glowsticks attached to the cell grates. One of the guards grabbed a folding chair propped up against the concrete wall just outside the cell and set it up across from Nick’s chair.
As the Marine sat down on the other side of the grate, Nick caught a glimpse of oak clusters on his shoulder. Either a Major or a Lieutenant Colonel. The ranks were starting to come back to him now.
“Four-seven Echo 1153. I’m Lieutenant Colonel David Markham. The convict units are under my direct supervision.”
Nick had no idea what to say, so he just nodded.
Markham consulted a small screen in his hand. “Looks like you’re in here for striking a senior officer. I’ve already talked to your CO and men from both the 4-7 and the 1-8, so I really don’t need your input…but I am curious. Why did you hit Captain Sayed?”
“To be honest, sir, he was making a reckless decision and, just for the hell of it, was going to kill the two men we brought back.”
“I realize you’re new here. The penalty for striking a senior officer is usually a transfer to the next unit down, but you’re already pretty much as low as you can go. For you high-numbered Echoes, such an offense would usually buy you a couple of days in the box.”
“The box, sir?”
“You’d rather not know, trust me. But in this case, I happen to agree with what you did. Doesn’t hurt that the two men you brought back had valuable intel, either. We do need soldiers who can think. I am surprised, though, that you had an objection to killing these two men. Your own record is not, as they say, lily-white.”
“True, sir. But I figure the only way I’m going to stay alive out here is to use my head.”
Markham grinned. “I like you, Morrow. All right. You’re released. Try to steer clear of Captain Sayed. He’s been warned to stay clear of you, but I doubt he will.”
Nick had been released and escorted back to his unit before he realized that Markham hadn’t used his number. He’d called Nick by his real name.
Four-seven Echo was just returning to their room at the half-hotel when Nick arrived. Christopher, who Nick had thus far only seen smiling or grinning, wore a blank expression. The other three men in the unit also looked completely worn-out and pale. Though he’d just spent several hours in a makeshift jail, Nick looked more awake and in much better spirits than any of his comrades.
“Oh, good. They didn’t kill you or anything,” Gabriel said wearily.
“No, they just let me go. Talked to the bigwig in charge of all us convicts. What the hell happened to you guys?”
Christopher nudged open the door to 47 Echo’s room with his boot and dropped down on the closest bed. He wearily lit a cigarette and took a drag. He didn’t seem to have the energy to move the pack from where it fell against his chest.
“Soon as we got back, they detailed us to the Irkutsk Airport in Klyuchevaya. Happens sometimes—we provide extra security for incoming convicts,” Christopher explained, little puffs of smoke accompanying every few syllables.
Nick took a seat on the bed next to Christopher’s—the other men had already sprawled out on the rest of the bunks. Peter was also smoking a cigarette, and through the haze of smoke surrounding the young man’s face, Nick could see that his eyes were only half-open.
“C-5s came in just like normal. Only this time, when the planes opened up, no convicts. Just one Air Force flyboy who told us to start loading equipment,” Christopher explained.
“Shit was heavy, yo,” Peter grumbled from his bed.
“We must have loaded up four, five planes in four hours. And I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a C-5, but they’re fucking big. We loaded those motherfuckers to the roof.”
“With what?”
“Shit in boxes,” Michael said. “Comm equipment. Tents. I’m guessing everything in the damned camp, but that’s probably just my sprained back talking.”
“Then one more Galaxy landed. This one started unloading stuff—armored vehicles. Three of them. Boxes of weapons. Decent ones,” Christopher said.
“So what’s going on, you think?”
Christopher shrugged and finished off his cigarette. “I didn’t get a chance to ask any of my usual sources. Neal vanished as soon as we got to the airport. Didn’t see any of my guys from other Echo units. Saw a few Alpha guys and a Delta I know, but they didn’t know any more than I do, which is shit. My guess, though?”
Nick nodded. “I’m guessing we’re evacuating Area November. Like, quickly.”
“Those Mongolians you had us bring back must’ve scared the shit out of someone,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “Someone gimme a smoke.”
“Fuck you, kid. You’re not even eighteen yet.” Christopher grinned weakly, tossing the pack across the room.
Gabriel caught the pack and pulled out a cigarette. Nick handed the young man a lighter.
“Fuck you right back, man. I will be next week.”
“Well, that’s all sorts of depressing,” Michael said.
“So we’re getting out of here?” Nick asked Christopher.
“Well, someone is. I’m thinking someone has to stay behind and cover the evac. And guess who gets all the shit jobs around here?”
Chapter 4
Under The Gun
Four-seven Echo hadn’t been in their room more than three hours when a soldier kicked their door open.
“All Echo units, report to Command,” the soldier barked before heading down the hall to kick in another door.
“Shit. Here comes the bad news.” Christopher groaned, rolling off of his bunk and jamming his feet into his boots.
“You really think they’re gonna make us stay behind as cannon fodder?” Michael asked as the five of them walked out into the hall.
“You haven’t been here long, but there’s a saying floating around: if it’s a suicide job, it’s a Mecho job,” Christopher told him. “Cannon fodder is pretty much what we’re here for.”
“Great. All I did was punch some guy in the face, and now I’m gonna die,” Gabriel said with a whine.
At the end of the hall, 47 Echo joined with several o
ther Echo units heading out into the night. Nick didn’t know where Command was, but he assumed whoever was leading the hundreds of convict Marines did, so he just followed the pack. None of the Marines talked much. Nick decided he’d stay quiet, as well.
Command turned out to be a movie theater with all the seats removed. The Echo units filed in, filling the place to capacity. Two armed soldiers stood on the corners of the stage in front of the ripped silk screen, weapons pointed down at the floor but ready to spring up at a moment’s notice. As Nick looked around, he guessed there were more than four hundred Echoes present, and all of them looked worried.
Thirty seconds after the theater doors closed, Lieutenant Colonel Markham walked onto the stage. When he spoke, his voice was amplified by a pair of castoff speakers set up near the two soldiers—Nick looked closely and saw Markham was wearing a throat mic.
“Good evening, Marine Echo. For those of you who don’t already know me, I’m Lieutenant Colonel Markham, commander of all Marine Convict units. According to intelligence we received this afternoon, Staging Area November will soon come under attack from the south by Chinese forces and from the north by renegades from the former Russian Federation. We are therefore immediately evacuating all personnel from Area November.”
“Here it comes,” Christopher muttered from Nick’s left.
“Unfortunately, we’ll need someone to keep the airport secure during the evacuation. Two hours ago, five units from Army Kilo landed to help in that effort. We will be supplementing them with our five most experienced Echo units—18, 21, 36, 41, and 45.”
Michael elbowed Nick and smirked. “Looks like we dodged a bullet,” he chuckled.
“Unfortunately, 21 Echo is running six men short after their last mission, so we’ll be combining them with 47 Echo for the duration of this operation.”
“Fuck,” Michael spat.
“All other Echo units are to proceed immediately to their COs for evacuation assignments. The Echo units I’ve just mentioned are to stay behind here and await further orders. Dismissed.” Markham walked off the stage without another word.
The doors at the back of the theater opened, and two guards appeared, each with an RF-scanner. As the convict Marines left the room, the guards scanned each of their necks, noting each man’s unit aloud. More than once, Nick saw a guard push a man from one of the just-condemned units back into the room.
“Well, boys.” Christopher shrugged as the room began to empty. “It was nice knowing all of you.”
When the shuffling in the room finally subsided, slightly more than a hundred men stood in the empty theater. Some of them had officer’s insignia on their shoulders, but the vast majority were dressed in the same, blank-shouldered convict fatigues as Nick’s. Lieutenant Neal found his way through the theater to his men.
“Hey, L.T. Nice shit job we got us here,” Christopher said, shaking his head.
“Yeah. And the 2-1’s missing a CO, so I get to fill in for him. Everyone in our shop accounted for?”
“All here, sir.”
“These gentlemen behind me are the remains of the 2-1,” Neal said, indicating four large, rough-looking white men with shaved heads.
“Shit,” Michael muttered under his breath to Nick. “I think they’re Aryans.”
“They’re what?” Nick whispered back.
“Skinheads. Neo-Nazi types.”
“Our first task, gentlemen, is to demo the hotel. From there, we’ll join 18 Echo and the Army Kilo units at the airport to cover the evac. Best data-modeling calculations put the first Russian units in town in less than an hour, so we have to move fast.”
“Please tell me we’re not rolling out in shitty third-hand bullet-magnet minivans again,” Christopher said.
Neal smirked. “Not hardly. We managed to get one of the Razor Fighting Vehicles for this mission. It’s waiting outside, so let’s load up.”
The combined 21 and 47 Echo unit followed Neal out of the theater. Parked in the street were three Razor Fighting Vehicles, each with two double .50 caliber machine-gun turrets on top and side-mounted rocket pods.
“I call shotgun!” Christopher laughed.
“Lock it up, 311. You’re my second on this one—I want you on the comms. Load up, gentlemen. Seven-fourteen and 903—you boys have experience with the 50s, so I want you in the gun turrets.”
“Sir,” one of the shaved-headed convicts said with a nod.
“Eleven fifty-three, your file indicates you used to work as a building contractor, correct?”
“Yes, sir.” Nick nodded.
“Good. You’re in charge of the demo team—I want you to bring that hotel down to rubble.”
“I can handle that. Mike, Pete, Gabe, you’re with me.”
Nick’s three 47 compatriots nodded. The entire unit climbed into the Razor and sealed the massive rear hatch—once the two assigned men were in the gun turrets, the vehicle was actually somewhat roomy. Neal fired up the huge twenty-four-cylinder engine and pointed the Razor back toward the hotel.
“Four-twenty-one—in the back, you’ll find our weapons. I want each man issued one M4, one Glock, extra ammo. We’ve got two minutes to the hotel—I want everyone loaded up by then.”
“On it,” one of the 21 soldiers replied, heading toward the back of the vehicle.
“I just saw one of those dudes had a Nazi symbol on his arm,” Peter whispered to Nick.
“Fantastic.” Nick sighed.
“Told you. Aryans. Let’s just try not to get on their bad side—they don’t like the blacks, the Irish, or the…what the fuck are you, anyway, Nick?”
“Half-Japanese.”
“Oh, yeah. They really don’t like you.”
“On the upside, Chris’ll probably be okay.”
“Well, thank Allah for that.” Peter’s voice was flat.
“Hey, boss! We got some bullet-proof vests back here!” the Aryan coded as 421 yelled from the back of the van. “Five of ‘em!”
“Give them to the demo team,” Neal yelled back.
The Aryan handed off the vests to his teammate from the 21, the shortest of the four Aryans. The short one walked through the vehicle, handing vests to the four members of Nick’s demo team.
“Let’s see…one for darky, one for chinky, one for mickey, and one for spicky.” The short Aryan chuckled as he tossed the vests to their new owners. He slammed the last vest into Gabriel’s massive chest.
“Careful, Napoleon. CO isn’t going to be watching your ass every second,” Gabriel growled.
“Whatever, spicky. I count four of us and one of you.” The short Aryan shrugged.
“Both of you, shut the fuck up, will you? I need to confer with my team. Unless you like the idea of just sitting around waiting for the Russians and the Chinese to start throwing missiles at us,” Nick said.
The short Aryan opened his mouth to say something else, but Nick’s glare stopped him before he started. Instead, the Aryan just shrugged again and headed toward the back of the Razor.
“Hey, Nick. You like to hit people. You wanna punch the shit out of that guy?” Gabriel asked as the demo team huddled together.
“Already on my to-do list, kid. Now, listen up. What you’re looking for out there are structural supports—big beams, basically. They’re going to mostly be around the outside of the building. We’ll want to plant the explosives heaviest there.”
Michael nodded. “What about the half of the building that’s already blown up?”
“We can pretty much ignore that entire side of the building. Once we kill the other three sides, that side’ll finish collapsing easy.”
“We’re here. Demo team, grab your weapons and ordinance and get moving,” Neal shouted as the Razor rolled to a stop.
As Nick and his team headed out the door, 21 Echo 421 handed them each an M4 rifle, a .40 Glock pistol, a Kevlar helmet and a backpack with C-4 charges and detonators. Nick tossed his backpack over the Kevlar’s straps on his shoulder and led his team out into th
e night.
The hotel was quiet now. Everyone had evacuated more than an hour ago. The wind was still, and the only sound that broke the uniform silence of the night was the Razor’s massive, idling engine. It seemed right to Nick to keep his voice as low as possible.
“Mike, Pete, you take the south face of the building. Remember, supports. Wrap them nice and heavy then pop a detonator into the C-4. I’ve got the remote with me. When you’re done there, meet Gabe and me on the west side of the building. Fast as you can, gents.”
Michael and Peter nodded and hurried off, and Gabriel followed Nick to the north side of the building.
“Hey, Nick. Chris tells me you’re in here for killing a whole bunch of people,” Gabriel whispered as the two of them jogged around the building.
“He’s correct. If you consider five a whole bunch,” Nick said.
“Don’t seem right. I know guys who killed people. You don’t seem like them. For one, you had a job at some point.”
“How about this, Gabe? We live through the night, and I’ll tell you the story.”
As Nick and Gabriel worked quickly to secure the C-4 to the hotel, the earpiece in Nick’s helmet clicked on.
“Move your asses, kids.” Christopher’s voice buzzed in his helmet. “Sentries just north of the airport have major traffic coming in, and radar’s showing a bunch of birds in the sky from the south. We don’t get out of here soon, we don’t get out of here at all.”
“Gotcha,” Nick mumbled back. He wasn’t sure if he was transmitting.
“You hear that, too?” Gabriel asked Nick.
“Yeah. Apparently, we’re on comms.”
“That is correct, Nick. I can hear you, and I’m reporting back to Neal. Now keep moving.”
Nick ignored Christopher and turned to Gabriel. “You see what I’m doing with this pillar? Wrapping it low with double-charges then putting in detonators?”
Gabriel nodded.
47 Echo Page 3