No Mercy (Blood War Book 4)

by Rod Carstens

  Ciao smiled and spit blood at the alien. Then he died.

  Chapter 59

  City-State of New York

  Park Avenue

  Hu was running next to Nani in the middle of the street as they emerged from a tunnel through a Mega. He could see the troops with the minis in the lead. Then he caught sight of a number of Xotoli suddenly appearing out of the entrance to the subway to his left.

  “Left flank!”

  The troops with the minis, including Tiny, wheeled to the left and began to pour fire into the Xotoli. One went down, but the others jumped toward them while the ones left knelt to return fire. Hu lifted his rail and fired the grenade launcher. It caught the closest one to them in the chest, blowing it backward. Nani did the same. Two were down, but three were moving toward them. Their heads exploded when they were struck by the two snipers’ rifles.

  The minis were working on those still left, covering for their mates. More Xotoli poured out of the exit. Hu grabbed the scram on his back and put it on his shoulder. He fired it as soon as he got a green from the targeting system. The Xotoli were so big that they were forced to fight to get out of the tunnel, creating a crowd in front of the top of the stairs. Hu had aimed for the center of the crowd.

  He struck one of the Xotoli in the center of the chest. Its upper body simply disappeared, and the blast tore into the crowd of Xotoli. Hu saw an arm spinning off away from the blast. He grabbed his rail and began pumping grenades into the mound of Xotoli bodies at the top of the stairs.

  They were fighting in a building support area surrounded by Megas on all sides. The area was covered with conduits, large pipes, and support structures for the Megas. The subway must have left here so offworlders who were hired to service robots or the equipment had access to the area without bothering the Sols. The Xotoli were firing from the bottom of the stairs to keep Hu and the rest of the platoon from being able to fire down into the tunnel.

  Then something trailing an orange streak flashed twenty-five feet overhead and exploded, sending shrapnel in a deadly circle beneath it. Hu was hit in the arm and spun around, causing him to fall off the pipe he had been standing on. He heard a scream and glanced at his visor. Flavia was down, and her status was red. Almost everyone in the platoon had sustained some type of wound. Hu’s suit was already treating his arm. It was a minor wound. He had just started to stand when another orange streak flashed out of the tunnel and exploded above them. This one knocked him down hard with a blow to his chest. It had hit his vest and torn a piece of it off.

  He was struggling to stand again when he heard, “Here they come!”

  Hu looked up from his prone position to see more Xotoli than he had ever seen pouring out of the subway. The first out had moved left and right of the entrance and were firing in all directions, trying to cover more Xotoli as they rushed out of the underground. One of those covering for the others’ head suddenly exploded, as did the Xotoli to its right’s. The snipers were still up. He had to get back into the fight.

  As he was standing he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. It was Tiny. He jumped on top of a circular structure that was directly in front of the subway exit. He had a perfect angle to shoot down into the tunnel below. He stood there, legs wide to counteract the recoil of the mini as he went cyclic with it. Thousands of rounds poured into the Xotoli trying to get to the surface. One jumped straight up almost twenty feet in the air to escape the subway. It fired as it reached the apex of its jump. Two sniper rounds struck it, one in the head and one in the chest. It fell dead onto a conduit.

  “A double tap on a jumper. I get extra points!” Basso shouted.

  Tiny stopped firing, pulled out a scram he had gotten somewhere, and put it to his shoulder. One Xotoli round then another struck him in the shoulder, and one hit his leg. Despite the pain Tiny stood tall and fired the scram into the subway. A huge explosion roared out of the underground structure and blew smoke and debris up in a huge cloud that slowly drifted over them. Hu heard crashes and booms from below, and the subway entrance slowly collapsed in on itself. Tiny, seeing his job was done, slowly sat down on top of the round structure. Hu glanced at his readout. Tiny was a yellow blinking red. Then the system settled on a yellow.

  Hu stood and bounded over the mound of Xotoli. He looked for any movement but saw none. Still he dropped a handful of mini-grenades for good measure. He glanced down the tunnel and saw the ceiling had collapsed for some distance. This exit was no longer viable for the Xotoli. Hu turned and jumped to the top of the structure. Tiny was sitting there as his suit worked on his wounds.

  “Nice job. You all right?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Does it always hurt this much when the nanos work?”

  “Yep,” Hu said.

  Nani came bounding up and landed next to Tiny.

  “Are you good to go?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Tiny said, struggling to his feet.

  “We’ve got to move. We’re still not where we’re supposed to be. So get a move on.”

  Hu helped Tiny to his feet then bounded off toward Nani. He caught up with her, and on their private comm channel said, “What the hell, Nani? He did a damn fine job and probably saved us a couple of casualties.”

  “He’s a damn Sol, Hu. When are you going to learn they couldn’t give a fuck less about us?”

  “Sometimes you’re as blind as a bat. If you can’t see he's one of us by now, then I don’t know what’ll convince you.”

  Hu was surprised that Nani was letting her past get in the way of making judgments about her troops. That was not good, and it could get someone killed if she didn’t watch it. She’d broken one of her own rules: you judge a person by their actions, and that’s all you judge them on. Tiny had just walked the walk and she was blind to it.

  Chapter 60

  City-State of New York

  Secretary General’s Mega

  Combat Information Center

  The Xotoli were closing in on Times Square from the south and the hybrids were pushing down from the north. Sand stared at the 3-D tactical display in the CIC. The lines were holding, but it wouldn’t be much longer. Around him stood Admiral Raurk and her CIC staff, including Netis.

  “Netis, have you found him yet?”

  “Negative, sir.”

  “We can’t wait much longer.”

  Sand stared as another conscript position was overrun. He needed to draw this guy out and force him to face him.

  “Netis, can I identify myself as the one he needs to face and call this guy out? Would he show up?”

  Netis thought for a second then said, “I don’t know.”

  Sand thought if he couldn’t meet him face-to-face in a fight to the death before they had a large tactical advantage, it wouldn’t matter. The headache suddenly exploded in his head. He had been headache free since the fight started, but this decision brought it back with a vengeance. Sand almost winced with pain but kept his face stoic.

  “Lieutenant, I’ve got something.”

  The person who spoke was one of about a dozen technicians along the wall. Netis walked over and looked at the screen. “What am I looking at?”

  “Well, when I heard that the Xotoli were using the subways, I figured somewhere had to have security cameras down there, even if the Sols didn’t use them. So I searched and found that there is a whole system of sound and law-enforcement monitors so they can make sure the offworlders aren’t up to something,” the tech said.

  Sand looked over the tech’s shoulder. Sure enough, there were dozens of cameras, and they showed the subways. Some were empty, but others showed scenes of horror. One showed hundreds of offworlders slaughtered by Xotoli on platforms next to the subway tracks. It was an example of what the Xotoli would do if they won. The tech began to switch from camera to camera in an effort to find the Xotoli, and finally found the camera he was looking for. It showed the Xotoli moving down a subway tunnel heading north. There seemed to be hundreds of them.

  “Do you have
the facial-recognition program running?” Netis asked.

  “Yeah, Lieutenant. They all look alike to me. Are you sure we’re going to be able to find this guy?”

  “Yeah. The guys who programmed the likeness of his face got it down. They look as different to me as humans do.”

  Netis, Sand, and the tech watched the aliens move quickly down the tunnel.

  “Where is that tunnel?” Sand asked.

  “South of here, but they're heading straight for us.”

  “Put the map on the big display.”

  Admiral Raurk walked up to stand beside Sand and Netis. The Xotoli were scrambling toward them at a frightening rate. They saw one group break off and move up the stairs to the surface. Dust and smoke came rolling down the stairs into the subway where they had tried to exit. One alien then another came tumbling down the steps and was still. A large pool of what looked like blood began to cover the floor of the platform.

  “What are we looking at? Where are they?” Sand asked. “Put up our positions in relationship to where they just tried for the surface.”

  The tech changed the display, and it showed they had tried to come up where there was a Raider position.

  “Get some, Raiders,” the tech whispered.

  “Can we stop them before they reach us?”

  Sand’s head was pounding so hard he had a difficult time concentrating on the display. He needed something if he was going to find this Xotoli needle in a moving haystack before they overran the building and pulled off the invasion.

  Netis pointed to the tech’s display and said, “What’s that?”

  “That's an old comm system they rigged up to notify everyone if there was a disaster or emergency. It covers the whole city and underground.”

  Netis turned to Sand and Admiral Raurk. “It’s a long shot, but I speak Xotoli. We could try and call him out.”

  “What?” Admiral Raurk said.

  “Yes. That is part of the ritual, a face-to-face contest with no one interfering. No Xotoli has ever lost this fight, in all the systems they have raided or invaded. It is part of their religion and how they choose the leader for a generation of warriors. They believe if he wins it is because their god wanted it so.”

  “Why should he stop when he is winning? Isn’t it Monnetal he wants anyway?” Raurk said.

  “Yes and no,” Netis replied. “Monnetal is a political leader, and Askars will kill him if he wins. But General Sand has beaten him several times, and it would only add to his legend if he defeated Sand. Monnetal would be icing on the cake. In fact, since Monnetal is not a warrior like General Sand, his death would not carry as much weight with the other warriors, in spite of Monnetal being the political leader.”

  Admiral Raurk watched as hundreds of Xotoli streamed through the subway system. The situation was becoming dire.

  “Where would he be in leading the battle?”

  “Probably at the rear of the army,” Netis replied.

  “Switch to the southernmost cameras we have on the system,” Sand said.

  The tech switched cameras and they saw a group of Xotoli standing on the subway tracks. Several of the Xotoli carried what appeared to be communications equipment and combat-headquarters displays. A Xotoli stepped from the platform, and the others immediately turned their heads. He was obviously a leader. When he turned toward the camera, the facial recognition suddenly flashed.

  “Possible match.”

  Everyone turned to Netis. She stood there silently for some time before, looking closely at the display, she said quietly, “That is Askars.” She used her electronic pointer to circle one of the Xotoli.

  “He’s an ugly fuck,” the tech whispered.

  Admiral Raurk stared at the screen. “He would never abandon a winning strategy to face a supposed human leader,” she said.

  “They are not human. They are aliens and think very differently than we do. From what I know, this strategy has won them many systems. Remember, religion is mixed in this, and you know from history how much tactics can be influenced by religion,” Netis said.

  Raurk seemed unconvinced, Sand thought. It went against all her training and experience. But Netis was right. They were aliens and this was a religious war to them. Those facts demanded a different strategy.

  “Are you sure that if we kill him, they will leave?”

  “It is what I was taught as a child, and while I’m not a Xotoli, I am what they called Xotec, and they pounded their history into us in school. It has been this way for thousands of years. They will stop fighting and leave until they can confer with the Council of Elders and pick a new leader for their generation. It has happened in the past, though not for hundreds of years.”

  “What have we got to lose? If he takes the bait and is willing to face me then I’ll make sure he dies no matter what. If he doesn’t then it will be a slaughter for both sides. Why not try to call him out?” Sand said.

  “I’m not allowing you to do such a thing. You are too valuable,” Admiral Raurk said.

  “Admiral, if we don’t stop them soon, we will be fighting to the death in Times Square anyway, and I guarantee there will be thousands of casualties, both civilian and military, before that fight ends. If it works, we might be able to end this thing and save thousands of lives. I’ll make sure he dies, either by my hands or someone else’s.”

  Raurk simply frowned. “Can we get to him and kill him where he is?”

  Sand walked over to the tactical holo and studied the positions at the south end of Manhattan. It showed no Confederation troops anywhere near Askars, and nothing but Xotoli in the subways and on the surface.

  “No, I don’t think I can get to him. Not with the battle so fluid. I need him to come to me.”

  Admiral Raurk turned to Netis. “Does he know that losing Sand will not stop us from continuing to fight?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He would have killed the warrior leader, and that seals his leadership for his generation. In his eyes he has already won. The mopping up of the last of the Confederation troops is something they would do anyway.”

  “And if he dies?”

  “According to what I was taught, the troops would stop fighting and try to retreat back to their ships. They taught us about this by giving us an example of the shame brought on the Xotoli when another warrior killed one of their leaders. They pride themselves on being warriors first, above all else. For the leader to lose in this fight brings shame to the whole warrior generation.”

  Admiral Raurk was quiet for some time before she said, “You had better be right, General. Go ahead.”

  “What should I say?” Sand asked.

  “Tell him who you are and how many times you have beaten him. Remember, this will be heard all over the city by his troops. We’re using the whole sound system. Play on his reputation.”

  “Okay, tell him this. ‘Askars, this is General Dasan Daniel Sand, the warrior who has beaten you three times.’”

  Netis translated into Xotoli, an incomprehensible series of clicks, chirps, and whistles. Everyone watched as Askars’s head snapped around when he heard Netis’s translation over the speakers on the platform.

  Sand paused before he continued, “I beat you on Choem when I took the children away from you. I repelled your invasion of Rift with my Legionnaires. I led the raid on 703 when I captured your crystals. I led the invasion of Chika and escaped to face you again. I am the greatest human warrior. You have never defeated me, and you never will unless you face me now.”

  Askars turned toward a speaker and roared. Netis translated, “Then I will kill you soon. We are almost there, and when we capture you, I will take pleasure in testing your courage.”

  “So the warrior who wants to lead his generation is hiding in a tunnel while the rest of his warriors face mine.”

  Askars roared again. “Human! I will make you beg me to die before I am finished with you. Who translates for you? What human knows our language?”

  “It is Tinyur, your Xotec,”
Netis said with satisfaction.

  Sand wasn’t sure he could read Askars, but he seemed surprised. He roared again. “So you add treason to being a child with five fingers. I should have killed you. You have lived up to your name.”

  “What does your name mean?”

  “‘Little bitch’.”

  “Nice. Tell him that I will defeat him again, and this time it will be at the cost of most of his warrior generation. Humans have been warring among ourselves for thousands of years. We have needed another race to fight for many generations. You have brought out the best in our race. You have brought the warrior out. We are a better and stronger race than the Xotoli. I will prevail as I have before. You are a coward hiding underground. When I lead my warriors, I lead from the front, not like you, safe underground and behind your army. Understand that this is being broadcast throughout the city, and your warriors will know your shame.”

  Netis translated this. Again the Xotoli reacted to Sand’s words with a roar of fury. The other Xotoli around him looked at him for his answer.

  “What is the worst thing I can call him?”

  “Ask him what the Council of Elders would say if they knew that he was afraid of fighting a human. Ask what Engai, his god, would say.”

  “Sounds good. Say that.”

  Netis repeated those words.

  “No human can speak the name of our god without paying a price!”

  “Then face me, and your warriors will see if you are truly the greatest warrior of your generation. Monnetal is nothing but a politician, whose only worry is money and talk. He is a figurehead. I am the greatest warrior of my generation.”

  Sand glanced over at Admiral Raurk. She gave him the smallest smile after the Monnetal comment. There was a long silence. Askars said nothing. His staff was talking to him.

  Finally Sand decided to push Askars harder. He looked over at Netis and said, “How is it done? Is there a ceremony or does he just have to kill me in battle?”

  “From what I was taught, the leader is brought to him, and he will kill him in front of his troops and the losing troops.”