by Rod Carstens
Hu began to change the settings. “You’ve got it tight where it should be loose and loose where it should be tight.”
After a few minutes of adjustments, Hu said, “How does that feel?”
“I don’t know. It’s different. I don’t know if it helped.”
“Okay, squat.”
FNG squatted.
“Now push-up position. Move!”
He moved forward into a push-up position.
“Give me ten.”
FNG did ten push-ups.
“Now jump to your feet.”
He stood up in a flash.
“See the difference? You can move and you’re taking more advantage of your armor’s strength-enhancing nanos adjusted that way.”
“It’s amazing how much difference that makes.”
“Wearing armor in combat is much more of an art than a science. You’ll be making your own adjustments before long. You’ll find out what works best for you. We’re all different. I just did some basic adjustments we all use."
Hu stepped back and eyed him up and down. Good. Now I’ve got you so you can move like the rest of us. Let’s get you geared up. First rule is always pick up weapons, ammo, mini-mines, and anything we can use from the wounded and dead. Supply never keeps up with how quickly we go through our shit.”
First Hu found him a vest rack for his armor. He tore the old one off. It didn’t have nearly the necessary number of pouches and pockets. The new one had four mag pouches for his rail, heavy-duty nano MOLLE straps, a holster for his rail pistol, a heavy-duty rescue handle for dragging him if he went down, and several large pouches for mini-mines and grenades.
“Load that up with as many grenades and mini-mines as you can stuff in there. I’ll find you some weapons. I’ve got something special in mind for you.”
Hu found a fighting ax and slammed it into the holder on his left leg. Next he found a good .45-caliber rail pistol and put it in his holster on his vest. Finally he found a light mini-rail and handed it to him.
“You’re big enough. We need a mini. Turn around. I’ll load you up with the canisters.”
The FNG turned around and Hu put two big mini canisters on his back.
“Ever use one?”
He shook his head no.
“Fired one?”
“Yeah, in training.”
“It’s simple. Set it for thirty-round bursts and you’ll be fine. You’ve got close to fifty thousand rounds between the two canisters, so you should have enough for a couple of missions.”
“I...I don’t...”
“Look, remember what Nani said. Follow me and I’ll tell you what to do. The mini guys always lead any movement across an open area. Fire as you move at anything that moves or that you think might move, and you’ll be fine. Your job is to keep their heads down while we move up. When we’re in position, Nani will put you where she wants her minis. Just make sure you shoot the other guys and not us. Come on, let Nani get a look at you now.”
They walked over to where Nani was checking her tactical display. When she looked up she said, “Good. We’re down a mini. Now get out of here, FNG.” They turned to leave but Nani said, “Wait. I don’t want to have to keep calling you FNG. You’re the biggest guy in the platoon, so we’re gonna call you Tiny. That’s easier.”
Hu turned and said, “Come on, Tiny, let’s go find someplace to lie down before they send us off somewhere.”
Tiny followed Hu to an open corner. They sat down and Hu said, “I’m going to sleep. You are going to field-strip that mini until you can do it in your sleep. We clear?”
“Yes, Sergeant.”
Hu was snoring before Tiny had the mini halfway stripped.
Chapter 49
City-State of New York
Phase Line Yellow
Rockefeller Center
Dasan Sand stood in the midst of his command post staring at the 3-D holo tactical display. He did not like what he was seeing. The Xotoli were using what appeared to be most of their hybrids on the ground in this push. They were attacking from ground level and crashing those APCs into the building. It was a three-dimensional attack, one that would be difficult to stop no matter what he did.
“Lieutenant Chuto, get your Mike boats up and have them go after those APCs.”
“Sir, they weren’t designed for that kind of aerial combat.”
“I know, but unless we can give those troops some support we’re going to be in a world of shit. Besides, I know those pilots. They will figure out a way. They did on 703 and Chika. They’re damn fine pilots.”
“On it, sir.”
Sand watched as the Mike boats left their hidden perches and started diving on the APCs. One then another APC nosed over and dove into the building below when it was hit by the Mike boats’ metal-storm ground-support weapons. That many rail rounds would destroy anything. Another and another went down, but it wouldn’t be enough. There were more Xotoli APCs than Mike boats. A flash urgent message showed up over the holo.
“Urgent, urgent, this is Raider Alpha Actual. I have Xotoli landing. I repeat, Xotoli, not hybrids. The Xotoli are landing in force. So far there are no hybrids mixed in with them.”
Sand reached out and changed the holo into a video feed from Yu’s position. Huge APCs, much larger than the ones carrying the hybrids, were landing at JFK, and armored Xotoli were pouring out. The fire from the Raiders was not slowing them. Despite the casualties, most were rushing forward through the rail and mini fire as if it was nothing. Their armor was heavier than the hybrids’ and only the heavy minis and .50-caliber sniper rails were having any effect.
Sand changed the video feed and saw they were landing at LaGuardia as well. When the Xotoli landed, the mini and robotic rails began firing on the troops as they rushed forward. A number went down. The robotic rails were 50 caliber and were penetrating the Xotoli armor. He saw one Xotoli step on a mines. It blew its leg off, but it stood and tried to move forward only to step on another mine, which blew its other leg and part of its torso off. The heavy minis at the flanks were raking the rushing Xotoli with effective fire.
“Raider Alpha Actual, can you hold?”
“Unknown.”
“Fall back to the next phase line. As soon as you regroup, use mines and your heavy weapons on these guys. I’m sending you Mike boats for support.”
“Roger, Alpha Actual out.”
Sand glanced back at the tactical holo. Rockefeller Center Mega was filled with hybrids from the ground floor to at least the thirty-ninth floor. They were above and below his units which were quickly losing any semblance of interlocking support positions. It was now a melee in several million square feet of building.
If he tried to hold on to this building, they might. But they would use up most of the units he had, and the Xotoli were down on JFK. He was losing the initiative, if he hadn’t lost it already. It was time for the Alamo.
Sand looked at Major Farran and Major Rosser, and pulled up Major Regen out on Long Island on his comm.
“Gentlemen. Alamo, Alamo, Alamo. Have all units withdraw as soon as possible. We are going to make our stand now. The Xotoli have landed at JFK and are making progress toward Manhattan. Strip the caches as you pass them. I repeat, Alamo.”
Regen and Farran immediately snapped off their comms and got to work getting their people moving. But Rosser, the Von Fleet commander, stayed on the feed. “Sir, we’ve never done something like this. We aren’t trained.”
“Have your platoons team up with the nearest conscript unit. They can move back together.”
“But, sir...”
Sand snapped off the Von Fleet feed and said to Chuto, “Get my Mike boats up and Nani’s platoon. I’m going to the Raiders’ position. I need to get a close look at the Xotoli.”
The men and women in his command post immediately began to pack up and get ready for a combat move. Sand turned his back and slipped a plug. The pounding was getting worse. His whole plan was falling apart. The Xotoli were overwhe
lming his positions before he had a chance to adjust to their numbers and tactics.
Fenes and Holman raced down the hallway back to their position. Fenes glanced at the window and sure enough, a flight of APCs was inbound. They looked like they were headed directly at his position. He could hear firing from below. Then, on the company’s comm net, he heard, “They’re making a rush across 51st. We’re gonna need the Mike boats. There are too many.”
Fenes and Holman reached their positions. Ardan and Minga had the troops firing down into the hybrids making the rush across 51st, but they were so high up and the hybrids were so fast their fire was making little difference.
Fenes looked out of the window and could see at least ten APCs heading directly for Rockefeller Center. The fronts of the APCs began to wink orange and red as they fired into the building prepping the floors before they crashed through the walls..
The APC prep fire tore into the positions just below them. Fenes ducked anyway. Then, with a huge crash, the first of the APCs smashed into the building, crashing through the outside curtain wall and driving deep into the interior. Another crashed in above them and did the same. That meant Fenes had hybrids above and below him as well as coming up the stairs. He couldn’t just wait for them to attack. He needed to find a place to make a stand.
Fenes glanced at his tactical display. He could see the hybrid symbols moving purposely through the building, clearing rooms. They were already to his rear two floors down and above him. If he stayed where he was, he would be cut off soon. He pulled up a blueprint of the building. The old Rockefeller Center was deep in the center of the Mega. He would make his stand there.
“This is Conscript Actual," Fenes comm barked. "Alamo, Alamo, Alamo. Grab the nearest Von Fleet unit and begin your movement. Remember, take advantage of any tactical opportunities. Ambush if you can, but do not get into a long firefight. Sow mines as you move. Alamo, Alamo.”
Fenes pulled up Minga and Ardan on the comm. “You heard the man. Split the company in two and make sure we’ve got it organized all the way to fire teams. I’ve got to get Von Fleet organized.”
“Roger.”
“Check.”
“Holman, you’re with me.”
“How did I get so lucky?”
“Because you’re a sergeant now.”
They turned and ran back down the hall toward the Von Fleet positions. What Fenes found was a platoon in confusion, standing around looking at one another.
“Lieutenant, it is time to make our hat. You need to get your asses moving or I will leave you to the hybrids,” Fenes said.
“What? What is Alamo?”
“It’s our last-stand position, and it will be stocked with more ammunition and weapons. Now we need to get a move on.”
“How do we get there?”
“Fuck—I don’t have time to explain. Look at your tactical display, goddamnit! Keep your situational awareness. All NCOs step forward.”
When they had, Fenes said, “Organize into your fire teams and squads. Start moving toward the Alamo point on your tactical display. Small units, moving separately but staying in touch. If you get a chance to ambush some hybrids, do it, but no long firefights. Sow mines behind you. It will slow them down.”
They were still just standing there. Holman went up to a big sergeant. “This your squad?”
“Yeah.”
“Then turn around and go that way, you stupid shit.”
The others in the platoon began to move after Holman’s lecture. Fenes glanced at his heads-up. The company was moving well, but Ardan was in heavy contact with a large number of hybrids. Ardan was almost surrounded by the red triangle symbols.
“Ardan’s in trouble,” Fenes said. He pointed to the last Von Fleet squads still in the room and said, “You’re with us. She’s in charge.”
“But...”
“That’s an order. You might live if you come with us.”
Holman came up behind the Von Fleet soldier and shoved him. He was head and shoulders taller than Holman, and he looked back but began to move. As they ran down the hall, Fenes kept checking his tactical display. The hybrids must have been putting the word out that they had a platoon in trouble, because more and more red triangles were moving toward Ardan’s position. If Fenes couldn’t get these troops down there he was going to lose half his company and a friend he had known since boot camp. He saw that Minga had stopped moving and was beginning to return to support Ardan.
“Alpha Actual to Minga.”
“Minga, go.”
“I’ve got a squad of VFs and I’m going to help Ardan. You scoot.”
“But...”
“Do it,” Fenes said.
Chapter 50
City-State of New York
John F. Kennedy Airport
1st Raider Battalion
As soon as they were in the air and headed for JFK, Sand got on the comm to CIC. Admiral Raurk answered immediately.
“Did you see the flash message about JFK?”
“Yes, I’ve got some live feed from there. This is really it, isn’t it?”
“At least on the ground, Admiral.”
“They’re pushing in space too.”
“Admiral, may I speak to Netis?”
Netis’s face immediately snapped open on his comm.
“Netis, is there anything I should be looking for that would let me know our guy has landed?”
“Not yet, General. I think they fight the way they bred us to fight. The youngest warriors first with the experienced troops to follow. The facial recognition software is working, and as soon as I get a location, I will let you know.”
“Any tactics they like to use?”
“No, General, the same as with the hybrids, fast and straight, always with pressure on the whole position looking for a weakness. And when they find it, they exploit it with as many troops as they can get to that point. Nothing subtle about them. They think they are the best warriors in the universe and want to show you just how good they are.”
“Very well, Netis. This is Sand, out.”
Dasan reached out and spread his fingers, expanding the view until he could see all of Long Island. He had the whole island sown with all manner of sensors, cameras, and tactical feeds, and they were combining to show him a clear picture of what the Xotoli were doing. Just as he had predicted, they were landing at all four of the airports on the island.
The two on the far east side had the heaviest traffic but the Xotoli were not moving out toward Manhattan. Instead they appeared to be organizing a forward operating base. He could see all types of equipment being unloaded and set up. Just as he’d thought, they were going to use the island as a jumping-off place for the push into the city.
Sand glanced at the feed from JFK. There were hundreds of Xotoli racing across runways and leaping over buildings. These were the assault troops who were to keep him busy while the logistical types were setting up the FOB. They were eight to ten feet high in black armor, with yellow identification strips that probably showed their rank. Their helmets made them look like armored insects with what appeared to be mandibles at the front and sloping armor coming from their shoulders. Their weapons were outsized—their rails were about twice the size of a normal human rifle. They moved with surprising speed for such large beings. At times their arms and legs were a blur. On 703 he had not seen them move this fast.
The sight of so many Xotoli at once was staggering. They were firing from the hip as they ran toward Yu’s positions. This was what Sand had been preparing for for over thirty years now. It had all started so many years ago on Choem with those footprints in the dust and debris of what had been a human settlement. That was when they had kidnapped the children, and it had all led up to this: the invasion of Earth. They were here for one reason and one reason only. To enslave the human race. One way or another, he knew it would be over soon. Over a quarter century of battles and sacrifice, and he would soon find out if he had been up to the challenge. He would win this ba
ttle or die trying.
He realized his headache had disappeared, and a calmness came over him he had never felt before. Not the rage that overcame him when he first saw the hybrids. No, this was something he had not expected. He wished Aijuba was still at his side. He knew she would have understood and been able to say the right thing. But she had died on 703 covering the extraction of her command. What would Aijuba say?
“Ten seconds, General,” the pilot said.
The pilot eased the Mike boat into a repair area three decks below the runways where the Xotoli were landing. The boat gently bumped down, and Sand and the rest of his command-post staff ran down the rear ramp.
Nani led the platoon toward the building that Major Regen was using as the command post. General Sand was already standing with him looking at the tactical readout. The holo showed a battle going bad. There were red triangles mixed in with Alpha Company as it tried to fall back to the phase line, and Bravo and Charlie were already engaged with the Xotoli.
“Where do you want us, General?”
Sand looked at Regen. “Where is your biggest problem?”
“Getting Alpha back to our lines Or I should say what is left of Alpha. Get your people to that line of buildings in Cargo Area Bravo so you can provide covering fire for them. Once they are back in our lines, we let the Mike boats work them over while we scoot.”
Regen pointed to the buildings that were three decks above them. A route through the decks that would bring them up inside of the buildings Yu wanted them in glowed a bright red. Nani downloaded it into her armor’s system and broadcast it to the rest of the platoon. She could see the red triangles of the Xotoli moving fast. They were closing in on Yu and the rest of the company.
“Roger that. Hu, get them going. Grab as many scrams as we can carry.”
“You got it, Lieutenant.”
Hu didn’t really have to get them going. They had heard the orders and were already moving toward the buildings. All the sergeants and corporals grabbed a couple of the portable scrams in the CP cache as they ran by and out into the open.