No Mercy (Blood War Book 4)

by Rod Carstens

  1st Conscript Battalion

  Alpha Company

  Second Platoon

  Striker fired his rail into a spike hybrid that appeared out of nowhere just ten feet in front of him. Its upper body disappeared in a mist of blood, body parts, and pieces of armor as his rail tore into it. He was leading Ardan’s platoon south, skirting the west side of the park before the newly landed heavy armored troops could cut them off. Meanwhile Minga was moving down the east side of the park toward Fenes before she too was cut off.

  Sand in his briefing had been right when he guessed they would use the park as one of their main drop zones for attacking the city, but as in most battles, the enemy had not done exactly what they’d thought. Sand had underestimated the number of spike troops that would be used. The Xotoli had blanketed the park with troops from one end to the other with no apparent strategy other than to overwhelm the defenders with numbers. Striker and Ardan were approaching the 86th Street traverse, the reservoir on their left, but were experiencing heavy fighting every step of the way.

  He glanced up at his tactical display and saw Minga making good progress with her platoon just east of the Great Lawn. Red triangles representing the hybrids were constantly attacking her, but she was pushing south through the resistance. The triangles weren’t organized. They attacked singly or in small groups from all directions, giving Minga’s platoon a chance to manage the constant pressure.

  Striker and Ardan’s platoon was facing a different kind of resistance. The attacks were more organized, with fire teams and squads supporting one another. The APCs were landing another wave on the Great Lawn, but they did not just rush into the fight. They were organizing themselves and getting ready for a coordinated push that, if he had to guess, would try and clear the park of all resistance. The spike troops had done their job causing confusion and tying up the defenses. Now it was time for the heavies to finish the job. It looked like they might just do it, unless he and Ardan could move faster.

  Striker had been fighting corporate wars for over thirty years. He had fought for Von Fleet all over the Confederation. He had fought for the logo and been a good salaryman, as the marines called corporate military, for his whole life. He’d been close to retirement when the chance to get bonuses and credit toward early retirement if he volunteered to be part of the conscript/penal battalion had come up. He had talked it over with Jincey and she’d thought it was worth the risk. But the alien invasion had changed everything, and who knew what the future held? He had done his time. It was time for the next generation to step up. He'd though he'd get out before things got really bad and find a safe corner of the Confederation with Jin and the kids. He was tired of fighting, of the constant danger and death around him.

  So he’d volunteered, but he'd hadn't been expecting what he found. His platoon had been trained by former Legionnaires and held some of the best raw recruits he had ever seen. They had all the basics down. The Legionnaires had done a tremendous job in preparing them for the coming battle. He’d spent his time with them teaching small-unit tactics, and they’d taken to it with the seriousness and focus of professional soldiers, not men and women who had been sentenced to a penal battalion. Striker had worked them hard, and they had been as prepared for the Chika invasion as any platoon in the battalion.

  Then on Chika, when the shit had hit the fan and the whole invasion was at stake, these young conscripts had done what all well-trained troops did. They didn’t rise up to the occasion—no one ever does. Instead they fell back on the training the Legionnaires had put them through. The toughness of the Legionnaire training showed as they fought with a ferocity and discipline Striker had seen few times. They’d followed orders and stood by one another through fighting that was breaking corporate units all around them. He had been proud to be their leader.

  When they found out Von Fleet had been cooperating with the Xotoli and the corporation was being nationalized, Striker’s world had fallen apart, but Sand had stepped in. He’d offered him a commission and the conscript survivors a chance to become Confederation marines. Striker had jumped at the chance. Now he would be a citizen of the Confederation, and Jin and the kids would be taken care of no matter what happened to him. With their future assured, he and the surviving conscripts had become the leadership for a new conscript battalion, its ranks filled with newly Legion-trained troops.

  The new troops had been up to the task so far for the same reason the first of the conscripts had, but no matter how good your training, if you don’t have enough troops everybody dies anyway. It was beginning to look like one of those battles.

  Striker saw that Fenes was trying to push north up the west side to link up with them. Between Striker and Fenes was the highest concentration of hybrids. South on the Great lawn and to his left, he saw another wave of APCs preparing to land. As they did he saw the first of the heavy armored troops begin to move. They were heading for Striker and Ardan’s platoon. They weren’t going to make it unless somebody stayed behind and covered the rest of the platoon’s move south to Fenes.

  Striker stopped and said, “Minis up.”

  The two minigun teams reported to him. Striker took one of the minis and handed his rail to the gunner.

  “Scoot to Fenes’s pos.”

  Striker couldn’t see the trooper’s face, but instead of taking the rail he handed it to another trooper.

  “That’s my fucking Pig, Lieutenant, and I’m the only one who’s going to use the damn thing.”

  Striker handed the mini back to the gunner. “How about you?”

  “I got nothing to go home to. I’d only end up in a prison. Where do you want it, LT?”

  Striker positioned the two about twenty yards apart with good interlocking fire. Both teams refused to leave their guns. They were in operation almost immediately, firing at the approaching armored troops.

  “Where do you want me?”

  Striker saw the speaker was Ardan. “You take the rest of the platoon and hook up with Fenes. Use that street. What’s its name?” He glanced up at his display. “Central Park West. Follow it south but make the linkup. We can’t afford to lose any more troops.”

  “What about you?”

  “We’ll fall back when you make the linkup. Use the buildings as cover. Go from one to the other but be prepared. The spike troops are beginning to jump into the buildings now that the armored troops have begun to land.”

  “Goddamnit, I’m not leaving you behind!”

  “This is not a request but an order. The platoon has to have a senior NCO. Now get your ass moving, Sergeant.”

  Striker grabbed his rail and turned back toward the Great Lawn. It was covered with armored hybrids now using bounding overwatch to cover one another, one group firing to cover the other group’s move. Striker lifted his rail and began to fire at the approaching hybrids as quickly as he could, remembering the weakness of the Xotoli hybrids’ armor was their faceplates. His round struck a hybrid who had just reached West Drive and was turning south toward the position. Its head snapped back as his round entered the faceplate, and it dropped in its tracks.

  The gunner was good. He was working the gun with disciplined three-round bursts to the center mass of the moving troops instead of spraying the area with the three thousand rounds per minute it was capable of firing. The hybrids dropped in their tracks with large holes in their armor, but it wasn’t slowing the rush of the armored infantry. Once one group was down, another group would move forward, finding cover behind downed APCs and other wreckage.

  “Gunner, what’s your name?”

  “Vidviic, sir.”

  “You’re good with that Pig.”

  “Thanks, sir. It’s the only thing I’m good at except stealing shit.”

  Striker laughed. Vidviic was a tough kid. He had had to discipline him several times in the short time he had been company commander. Vidviic was no exception to that old soldiers’ rule, if you emptied the brig you'd find you had a good bunch of troops. The two minis were
doing enough damage to draw attention. More hybrid units were changing direction and heading for them. The hybrid covering fire began to shred the bushes and trees around them.

  “Vidviic, go cyclic and get rid of some of that wreckage closest to us on this side of the lawn.”

  “Copy that.”

  The mini poured three thousand rounds into the nearest downed APC chopping it to pieces, and even alien APC armor couldn’t stand up to that kind of fire. Vidviic had almost cut the ship in half when a huge explosion blew Striker to the ground. Another explosion and another followed. Striker tried to clear his head. He knew they would be rushing the position. The Xotoli had gotten heavier weapons on the ground to support the hybrids and now they were going to use them to clean up the last pockets of resistance. As Striker struggled to his feet, he glanced at his heads-up. Both mini crews were down. At the other mini both men were red on their medical readouts. Vidviic was a red too, but his assistant gunner was a black. Striker stood and reached for Vidviic’s mini. His armored hand grabbed his and stopped him.

  “I ain’t dead yet, LT.”

  “Can you fight?”

  “Fuckin’ A.”

  As Vidviic slowly stood, he pulled his mini off its tripod and hooked it into the rig on his armor. He started firing at the onrushing hybrids, cutting them down by the handful. They were close now. It wouldn’t be long, Striker thought. He glanced at his tactical display. Ardan and Fenes had linked up and were falling back in good order. Minga had made it to Fenes’s lines. It had worked. They had given the rest of the company enough time to consolidate along Fenes’s lines. But he and the others were never going to make it. More and more APCs were landing and armored hybrids were moving through the trees toward them while the spike troops had moved to the buildings behind them. It was just a matter of time before they were overun.

  Striker had one last ace in the hole: the Mike boats. With the company behind Fenes’s lines, he could call them in and they would cover the park with enough munitions to make a difference.

  “Vidviic, I’m calling the Mike boats in. You know what that means?”

  “Fuckin’ A, LT. Let’s do the deed.”

  Striker switched frequencies to the battalion’s air-support operations.

  “This is Alpha Actual. Arc Light. I say again, Arc Light.”

  That code word would bring every available Mike boat down on the park without any restrictions because of friendly fire.

  “Alpha Actual, our display shows you in the park. Are you sure you want an Arc Light?”

  “Roger. This is my call. Bring it.”

  Striker stood and said, “Hey, Vidviic, I don’t want to wait behind a big rock. Let’s go get some.”

  “Fuckin’ A.”

  They both struggled to their feet and began to slowly walk forward, firing their weapons from the hip into the charging hybrids. Then the ground began to shake with explosions as the Mike boats started their runs from the south, working their way through the park to the north. Every inch of ground was covered by some sort of ordnance. It was a moving wall of destruction racing toward them. He had always thought he would die in battle with brother and sister warriors at his side, but he never could have conceived of this. He looked at Vidviic. He had been hit in the shoulder. There was blood pouring out of a hole in his armor, it was so big the nanos couldn't close it, but he still staggered forward firing.

  “Come on! Is that all you got?” Vidviic screamed.

  Striker’s last thought was that he could not have chosen better men and women to fight and die with than these conscripts. Then the rolling destruction tore him and Vidviic into pieces, along with the hybrids around them.

  Chapter 38

  City-State of New York

  John F. Kennedy Airport

  Field Command Post

  Combined Earth Task Force

  “Sir, this is a mistake,” Regen said.

  “It may be but it's the only play I have left. I’m going to put you in charge of the Raiders. You know the plan. Carry it out. Make them pay before you fall back.”

  Then Sand looked at Farran and said, “Major, you are coming with me to organize the VF troops with your conscripts.”

  Farran’s face showed no emotion. He was a good professional soldier who knew when to salute and carry out an order. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going to take Bien and the other techs. I’ll have to keep a good situational awareness of the whole battle. Regen, you’ll have to make due with one of your techs.”

  “I’ll be fine with mine, sir.”

  “Tell Zhao to pack up his trash and be prepared to re-establish the CCP with us. That's where he’s needed anyway. One last thing. I’m going to steal Nani and her platoon from you as bodyguards. I want to have her close. If anywhere I’m going to need them as my fire brigade, it’s going to be in the city.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Any questions?”

  None of the others said a word.

  “Okay, we got a lot of work to do.”

  Lieutenant Mala Nani was walking her positions, triple-checking her platoon’s disposition, when she received a call.

  “Lieutenant, you are to report to the command post immediately.”

  “Roger. On the way.”

  Nani switched to the platoon’s frequency. “I’ve just been ordered to Sand’s command post. Hu, you’ve got the platoon until I return.”

  “Roger.”

  Nani left the building and went bounding across the wide access road behind her position, headed for the CP. She landed outside the building and walked in to find Dr. Zhao and the medics packing up the CCP and Bien and the other techs readying their equipment for a move. She found Major Regen and said, “Sir.”

  “Lieutenant, you are now on temporary assignment with General Sand. Your platoon will act as bodyguards for the general until further notice. You will be moving out with the general soonest. I have notified Captain Yu and he is adjusting his positions.”

  “Sir, where are we going?”

  “Lieutenant, you will be accompanying General Sand into the city to assist him as needed with the dispositions of the Von Fleet troops.”

  “What Von Fleet troops?”

  “General Sand has ordered the arming and deployment of two battalions of Von Fleet infantry that are currently under arrest on Staten Island.”

  “What the fuck!” Nani said before she could stop herself.

  “Lieutenant,” Regen began, but he was stopped by Sand, who walked up.

  “Lieutenant, things are not going well over there. We need some troops so I’m going to take a chance on the Von Fleet battalions. As I told you earlier, you are my firemen and there is a big fire over there. You will need to grab a Mike boat for the trip. Ours are full.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now get back there and get your platoon organized.”

  Nani walked over to Lieutenant Chuto. “I’m supposed to grab a Mike boat for transport. I want Lee’s if I can get him.”

  “You got him, Nani.”

  Nani glanced over at Sand and Regen, who were talking together.

  “What do you think?”

  Chuto glanced over at Sand before he said, “I’ve been with him since the beginning, just like you. I’ve seen him stick his neck out time after time and come out of it smelling like a rose. I’m going to have to trust him again. I’m coming with you guys, so my neck is out there too.”

  “I don’t know. I hate anything or anyone who has anything to do with Von Fleet. I was sentenced to the Legion because of a Von Fleet executive.”

  “I guess you’re going to have to swallow that and follow orders.”

  Nani glanced at Sand one last time then said, “I gotta bound if I’m going to organize what he wants. Could you contact Lee and assign him to the Sand group?”

  “You got it.”

  Nani bounded away toward her position. Fight alongside Von Fleet troops! She couldn’t get her head around the idea. How in the fuc
k was she going to trust a salaryman who fought for a logo? She had always been able to trust the men and women on either side of her with her life. You didn’t have to like each other, just know that your lives depended on each other. Now Sand was asking her to stand with men and women who fought for money. Who fought for a corporation—and not just any corporation, but Von Fleet. It was hard to accept that, and she was not sure how the platoon would react. She knew even with her feelings she was going to have to find a way to hide them and do what she was trained to do. She landed just outside the buildings and went to the company command post, where she found Captain Yu waiting for her.

  “Sir, has the general told you?”

  “Of course.”

  “No, I mean what he needs us for.”

  “No, I figured it was like he said before. You’re his fire brigade.”

  “He’s ordered Von Fleet troops into the city and he is going to move his command post to their lines. We’re his bodyguards.”

  Yu’s face didn’t change. He had always been a tough person to read.

  “You don’t have the right frequency to listen to what’s been happening in the city. I do, and it has been one big-ass fight. Those conscripts are up against two or three times their number in hybrids. Sand had to do something or they were going to break through. You know he thinks the main line of attack will come from out here, so we stay and you go.”

  “But, Von Fleet. I mean...”

  “Remember Striker? The old Von Fleet soldier that Sand made a lieutenant? He just died because he called an Arc Light down on his position while he was covering the retreat of the rest of the company. Fenes, Minga, and Ardan are up to their asses in hybrids but holding the line because of Striker. I don’t care where you come from, but that is as good as it gets, and guess what? He was Von Fleet. You know what he did on Chika, and now this. I don’t know about you, but I judge someone by their actions. Those are the actions of a hero of the Confederation, and he was a salaryman. Fenes and the others need support. Sand is giving it to them the only way he can.”

  Nani stood there silently, letting it all sink in. She had liked Striker a lot. He was tough, smart, and cared about his troops. He had pushed them hard on the trip back to get them ready. Now he had joined all of the comrades she had lost over the years.