by Rod Carstens
“Basso, find some high ground.”
“Already on it, LT. The building to the left of twenty-three is taller.” Basso had an almost uncanny way of finding the best sniper’s nest no matter what type of shit they were in.
Nani led the platoon forward, following the path laid out in her schematic of JFK. They ran through shops and past huge repair machinery until they reached the stairwell that led to the top deck and the runway. Nani jumped and landed on the deck in the middle of a huge hangar. Its doors were open, and she could see that they were not where they were supposed to be. Instead they were a line of buildings short. She thought of going back down and finishing the route, but too many members of the platoon were already up, and it would be a real clusterfuck trying to get everybody back underground.
She glanced at her tactical readout. The Xotoli were closing fast, and Yu and the rest of the company were spread out above and below ground, moving toward the rest of the battalion. She needed to slow the Xotoli down.
“We’re in the wrong place,” Hu said.
“Yeah, I know, but we go from here. Follow me.”
Nani bounded forward, with the rest of the platoon spreading out in a ragged line as they crossed a large open area between the buildings. Hu was to her left and Tiny right beside him. That was when she saw the first Xotoli. It jumped over a building that Nani knew she could not clear on her best day in her armor and landed directly in their path. It had a huge, riflelike weapon in its hands, and when it saw them it fired from the hip.
The first round hit Retig in the chest with a huge explosion. It blew a hole through his armor. He was dead before he hit the ground in a bloody heap. The Xotoli continued to fire, just missing Hu when he bounded. Then Tiny opened up with the mini. He didn’t fire the three-shot bursts they had told him to but went cyclic for a full second. The Xotoli was blown back. There were thousands of rounds striking its armor. Nani couldn’t tell whether it was wounded, but it was bent over when Tiny finally stopped firing.
Slowly it stood. But by this time every rail in the platoon was directed at it. So many rounds were striking it that it was literally hidden by a cloud of dust and debris coming off its armor. They were close now, and it reached for something round on its harness. Nani realized it had to be some sort of explosive. Before it could throw it, the Xotoli’s head snapped back and it fell flat on its back.
“How do you like a .50-caliber lunch, you fuck?” Basso said.
Nani glanced over and saw that Basso had taken a knee and hit the Xotoli on the fly, with no electronic or smart rounds to help, and put a round in the middle of its head like snipers had done hundreds of years ago.
No more Xotoli came over the building. Nani and the rest of the platoon made the line of buildings they were running for. Once there she could see across the expanse of one of the taxiways all the way to the terminal. Xotoli were swarming all over and APCs were landing on the runways, disgorging their troops, ignoring the fire from the platoon.
The small arms were doing nothing. Only the heavy minis seemed to have an effect. She watched a Xotoli lift some sort of weapon to its shoulder and fire at the mini position on her right flank. A huge explosion rocked the building, and the roof collapsed onto the mini crew. The Xotoli turned and seemed to say something to the one standing next to him. Then his head exploded when two .50-caliber sniper rounds struck at the same time. The head simply disappeared and the headless body slumped to the ground.
Nani heard Basso say, “How do you like time-on-target rounds, you fuck? That was for the mini crew.”
Basso began to work on the Xotoli standing on the tarmac, making them run to cover. She dropped three of them before they could reach the nearest building. Nani watched as a number of them ran into the build huge hangar door. Others ran to take cover in an administration building. When they reached a normal-sized door, they had to bend over and smash their way through to make an entry. The Xotoli were just too big to get through normal human-sized doors. That was a weakness they could exploit. She switched her comm frequency to Sand’s.
“General, look at this video. This is important. They don’t fit through our doors.”
Nani fed Sand the video of the Xotoli having to smash its way into a building because the door was too small.
“Son of a bitch, you’re right,” Sand said. “They won’t be able to move through the buildings in the city. They will have to use the streets until they can tunnel their way through. It’s not much, but it’s the first advantage we’ve had on these fucks. When they’re in the street we can funnel them into ambushes. Yu and the rest of the company just arrived. You are free to scoot as soon as possible.”
Nani watched as one Xotoli after another had to smash into a building to find cover. Basso was dropping them like flies as they struggled to make openings large enough for their entry. The rest of the platoon was firing but with little effect.
Nani glanced at her tactical readout. Yu and the rest of the company were back at battalion. It was time to scoot. She needed something to slow them down or they would be on her ass before they could get underground. A salvo of scrams into the big hangar where most of the Xotoli were would give them the time they needed.
“All NCOs, grab a scram. I want a salvo into Hangar 134 over there. Everybody fire at 134. Minis, do the same. Once you have fired, we are scooting back to battalion.”
Nani slammed her rail into its holder on her chest and pulled a scram off her back. She knelt and looked down the line. Hu and the rest of the NCOs were doing the same.
“On my mark. Three. Two. One. Fire! Fire! Fire!”
The scrams flashed across the distance and seemed to explode as one. The roof lifted off and everything in the building disappeared in a huge, boiling explosion. Nani could see the severed armored arms and legs of the Xotoli flying up with the debris. The roof pancaked to the ground, crushing any wounded. There was no more movement or fire from the Xotoli after the dust had settled. The minis continued to rake the debris just in case. They may be hard to kill, but they blow up real nice, Nani thought.
“Scoot, scoot! Everybody back.”
As Nani bounded out of the building, she could see more APCs approaching JFK with another wave of Xotoli.
Chapter 51
City-State of New York
Phase Line Yellow
Rockefeller Center
Fenes moved through halls, offices, and apartments as they raced to help Ardan. They were getting close enough they could hear the fight even though it was still a floor down. He glanced up at the schematic of the building and Ardan’s position. They were directly over him, and it appeared the hybrids were now mixed in with his platoon. Fenes stopped, pulled a shaped charge from his vest, and said, “Okay, we are going to drop in on this fight. Get ready.”
Fenes slammed his rail into his chest rack and pulled his pistol and fighting ax.
“What are you doing?” one of the Von Fleet soldiers asked.
“This is going to go to hand-to-hand as soon as we drop in. Get ready.”
Holman already had her pistol and ax in her hand. “Move your asses! We got friends down there getting their ass kicked!”
The Von Fleet troopers fumbled around but finally got their pistols out and their rails on their racks.
“We don’t have any axes.”
“There will be plenty lying around. Grab one. Remember, the weakness of their armor is their faceplate,” Fenes said.
“Boss, we can’t wait any longer. Look at your display,” Holman said.
There were more red than green symbols in the position, and a number of red and yellow symbols for conscripts down. Fenes took a few steps away and threw the explosive hard onto the floor. It immediately exploded, sending a rain of debris into the melee below. Fenes stepped into the hole and dropped, with Holman right behind him.
Fenes hit the floor and rolled right. Holman rolled left. He was immediately face-to-face with a hybrid that had been staggered by the explosion. Fenes p
ut his pistol into its faceplate and fired. Its head snapped back and it was still. Holman was standing next to him, using her ax to finish off a downed hybrid. The Von Fleet troops, to their credit, had followed them through the hole and were fighting the hybrids too. Fenes tried to find Ardan or the other members of his platoon, but it was a mix of hybrids and conscripts in a desperate fight for their lives.
A hybrid was suddenly on his back. It took Fenes to the ground. Its claws were ripping at his faceplate, trying to tear it open, and he felt the searing pain of a laser knife entering his shoulder. He screamed into his helmet. He tried to turn into the hybrid, but it had his back. He tried to pull his pistol out so he could fire, but it was trapped underneath him. It used the laser knife on him again, this time into his back below his shoulder. With all his strength, Fenes tried to throw it off but he couldn’t, and the hybrid had its hand under his chin and was pulling his head back so it could use the laser on his neck.
When the weight of the hybrid was lifted off of him, he rolled over and saw that Holman had thrown it against a wall. They fired their pistols at the same time, and the hybrid’s head was blown apart. The blood spattered onto an ornate mural. It was a totally bizarre sight: a dead hybrid slowly sliding down the wall, leaving a long smear of blood in the middle of a beautiful painting of an idyllic country scene.
Holman reached down and pulled Fenes to his feet. They were in a long hallway with marble columns in a line down its middle. They had dropped into a squad of hybrids assaulting Ardan’s position down at the end of the hallway. He looked around. Most of the Von Fleet troops were still on their feet. He went to take a step but the pain in his shoulder and back stopped him. He could feel his armor’s medical system working to repair the damage, but the repair was as painful as the wound itself.
“You all right?”
“Not yet.”
“Boss, we ain’t got the time. Look.”
She was right. Hybrids were closing in, and Ardan needed the reinforcements quick or it would all be for nothing. With Holman’s help, he and the Von Fleet troops moved down the hallway toward Ardan’s position. A group of hybrids burst through a series of doors just in front of them. Ardan’s troops fired on them, then Fenes and his group joined in. The hybrids were caught in a deadly cross fire. A whole squad of hybrids was down in seconds. Fenes and the rest staggered into Ardan’s position.
“Good to see you,” Ardan said.
His voice was strained, and Fenes saw that he too was wounded. Both of them showed up yellow on the company status list.
“Yeah, it’s always good to be seen.”
“Guys, can you catch up later? We need to haul ass. We got more coming,” Holman said.
While Fenes tried to focus through the pain and drugs and think, Holman said, “Look guys, down is best. It looks clear that way.”
“Lead on, Sergeant,” Fenes said with a groan.
Holman grabbed a shaped charge off Ardan and took out one of her own. She threw the first and it exploded, filling the room with dust and debris. Then she threw the second down the hole so it struck the floor below. They now had a two-story drop to what appeared to be an open area and, according to the blueprint, a way out of the building. Holman pushed Fenes through the hole.
“Remember to bend your knees. I’ll make sure everybody gets down.”
Fenes landed hard and it hurt like hell. He stepped aside and waited as the rest of Ardan’s platoon and the Von Fleet troops dropped to the floor and moved off down the hall. Holman was the last one through and then Fenes and Holman moved off together toward the Alamo.
Chapter 52
City-State of New York
General Dasan Sand’s Headquarters
Dasan Sand studied the tactical display in front of him. He had given them Long Island before he had wanted to, but the Mike boats and his rocket batteries were working the whole island over, especially the four airports. It wasn’t stopping them. They had anti-missile batteries and their own APCs, but he was slowing them down enough to give him time to position his remaining forces.
They would push for the secretary general’s Mega, but realizing how difficult it was for them to move through human-sized buildings made him think they were going to be coming down the streets.
The Bridge Mega was called that because it spanned the East River where two bridges had stood centuries before—something called the Brooklyn Bridge and the Manhattan Bridge. It was the only way from Long Island to Manhattan left. To the north was an island in the middle of the East River. His map showed there had been a bridge there once too, but it had long ago been torn down for new structures.
So the Bridge Mega and something called Williamsburg were the only ways to cross the East River. He didn’t think they would try to use their Central Park LZ. Coming at their objective from a single direction was not good tactics if they could attack it head on and from a flank instead.
So if their boy was smart he’d continue to pressure them from the north and then bring his Xotoli troops across the river at the southern tip of Manhattan and make his fight on two fronts, all moving toward the same objective.
Sand zoomed in on the structure called Williamsburg and changed to a surface-camera view. Williamsburg was an old bridge that had been turned into apartments, shops, and bars for the offworlders. It looked like the poor section of any city anywhere in the Confederation. On the Manhattan side of the East River at ground level, where the Bridge Mega stopped, the Sols had left the old bridge structures intact. They went deep into the city. Like Williamsburg, they were lined with small buildings, makeshift shops, and bars that had sprung up because of the foot and ground traffic. Another ghetto where the offworlders and poor lived.
So there were only two places the Xotoli could cross the East River at ground level. They would try and meet the hybrids that were moving south from Central Park. Despite some damn good soldiering by the conscripts, the hybrids were at Phase Line Red. So the Xotoli needed to move now, when they knew they had pressure on his northern flank. Those old bridges were the quickest way across the East River toward their ultimate target, the secretary general.
“I think they're going to come across through the Bridge Mega and Williamsburg and use the old bridges and highways to get as far as they can into the city before jumping into the buildings.”
Sand looked at Major Regen, who was standing next to him studying the same readout. He didn’t answer at first. One thing Sand had learned about the commander of the Raiders was he was no yes man. He would tell him what he thought, but he would consider it before opening his mouth.
“General, you’ve been right so far. I don’t think I’m going to argue with your assessment at this point.”
“Alright, then. I’m going to put Alpha Company at the Bridge Mega, Bravo Company at Williamsburg, and Charlie Company will be our first fallback position. Alpha and Bravo will give way and pass through their lines, forming the next line behind them. We’ll leapfrog back to the Alamo and hope we find our boy before we run out of time.”
Regen only nodded before he said, “You’re putting Alpha in a tough spot. They will be the farthest south and the farthest away from the Alamo.”
“I know, but you said yourself they’re your best company, and you’ve got Nani running your first platoon. Masa and Harkin are no slouches either. So as usual, the better you are, the tougher the assignment.”
Regen smiled and said, “I can hear the troops. ‘Why us? Why do we always get the shitty end of the stick?’” He paused, then said, “The only thing that worries me is how hard it is to bring them down. Any plans we come up with are going to have to take that into consideration. They will just blow right through anything we set up.”
“Yeah, you’d think that a round traveling at almost eight thousand miles per hour would penetrate anything, but the Xotoli armor seems almost impervious to normal rails. You’re right. We need to give them some heavier weapons.”
“The minis and snipers are having muc
h better luck. What about distributing all of the RC 27Gs?”
“The standard rail with the grenade launcher?”
“Yeah, we only have a couple per platoon. But there are a lot of them in the caches.”
“Okay, have the caches stripped of all the 27Gs, sniper rifles, minis, and all the portable scrams you can find. See if we can make sure every fire team has at least one of those weapons if not more.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now that we’ve given our troops a fighting chance with weapons, let’s talk about tactics. I want you to break the companies into platoon-sized units. Then have each platoon set up its own kill sack. I don’t want to go any smaller than that against the Xotoli. Fire teams are working with the hybrids, but the Xotoli are a whole different story. It’s the same tactic that we’ve been using in the north. Ambush and scoot, with interlocking fire and coordination between the different squads. You can turn your Raiders loose. I don’t think you or I need to tell them where to set their ambushes or how to fight. Just point them in the right direction and let them go. Split them up between the two bridges.”
Sand paused then said, “Now I need to find a way to kill our Xotoli friend as soon as possible and bring this thing to a screeching halt.”
Lieutenant Mala Nani was questioning her decision to take a chance and run across that open area to the next row of buildings. It had cost Retig his life, and the only reason he was dead was her decision. She should have had the platoon move the extra distance underground. Then she would not be down a man when she was going to need every man and woman she could lay her hands on for the Alamo fight.
Hu walked up to her and handed her a ration package he had found. They had been eating nothing but the paste in their armor since this thing started, and to have a real piece of food was a treat, even if it was a ration package.