RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5)

by Phillip Richards

  The FEA had managed to clear twenty metres along the tunnel, although it was apparent that the multiple connecting entrances were slowing their advance. A key principle of tunnel fighting was thoroughness, in other words, you couldn’t bypass junctions without clearing all of the connecting tunnels and chambers, a process that could rapidly sap manpower and reduce momentum.

  At least a section of FEA lay dead or injured in the main tunnel, some of whom were being tended to by their comrades. At the frontline, three soldiers were bunched by one of the chamber entrances, exchanging fire with an unseen enemy.

  ‘What can you see up there?’ the sergeant major asked me.

  With a few taps to my datapad, I captured an image of the tunnel and then sent it over the platoon net for him to see. There was no need to keep net silence anymore since the battle was already raging ahead of us.

  ‘They’ve broken into the Guard headquarters,’ I said without looking back, ‘but it looks like they’re losing momentum. They could use more reinforcements.’

  There was a moment’s pause before the sergeant major replied testily, ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘The enemy are on the back foot, but they’re not beaten. If we join in now, then we’ll make short work of them–’

  ‘Another section coming up!’ somebody shouted, cutting me short.

  I turned to see more FEA reinforcements barging their way up the already packed tunnel behind me.

  ‘Let ’em through!’ the sergeant major ordered, and once again we let the FEA overtake us. Kit scraped against my helmet as they pushed past me, and boots clanged against the steel panels as they followed the access tunnel. They hurried toward their commander, who promptly directed them into one of the entrances that hadn’t yet been cleared.

  ‘Is there another section back there?’ the sergeant major asked as I watched the fresh FEA soldiers pour into the entrance. Several shots were fired, the shrill scream of magnets echoing through the confines of the warren.

  ‘One more!’ Corporal Stanton shouted from the rear of the platoon line.

  The sergeant major fell silent. I could sense the moral battle he was fighting inside his head. He could allow the FEA to send that one final section forward, launching them into battle, but what difference would so few men make? We were already in the perfect position to attack, less than twenty metres from the frontline. We could sweep through the rogue Guardsmen before they managed to recover. Perhaps that final FEA section would be more useful kept alive.

  The guide looked at me, almost pleadingly, and said, ‘You must help us now.’

  Still the sergeant major said nothing.

  ‘Fuck it.’ I made the decision for him. ‘Let’s just get this done.’

  The two of us stared at each other whilst the platoon watched us both nervously. I couldn’t tell if the sergeant major was mad at me for having spoken my mind or not, but I doubted it. He might be a cruel, cold-hearted man, but he was a trooper like us, and certainly no coward. He wanted to go in, he wanted to attack, but he also wanted to avoid risking his men unnecessarily. I often didn’t see eye to eye with him, and I often didn’t even like him, but I did understand him. As commanders we didn’t fear for our own lives in combat . . . not because we were incapable of being afraid, but because we were already awash with fear - fear for the men under our command.

  ‘Alright,’ the sergeant major finally surrendered. ‘Let’s go.’

  2

  The Guard Headquarters

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  Boots clanged against metal as my section ran after the FEA commander, light flickering in our visors as weapons spat and grenades detonated in the chambers either side of us. We kept to the right hand edge of the access tunnel, our tight formation bristling with weapons as every man scanned for threats.

  There were at least five or six adjoining tunnels and chambers between us and the commander, each one occupied by several FEA soldiers. Some of them appeared to have been cleared, torchlight dancing across the walls within as the victors searched for survivors, while other tunnels still echoed with the sound of battle. Rather than clear each section of the Guard headquarters individually, the FEA commander had split his forces, effectively opening several frontlines either side of him. It was a risky strategy with such limited manpower - he had virtually no reserves at all behind him - but if the rogue Guardsmen really were on the back foot, then it might be enough to finish them off.

  The commander was waiting just inside one of the entrances, using the junction as cover whilst his lead section attempted to clear another connecting tunnel ahead of him. Several more soldiers were taking cover along the access tunnel at the same time, holding back any potential Guard attack whilst they waited for their comrades to finish their clearance. I knew by my map that there were several more chambers and tunnels ahead of us, and sensed that the FEA no longer had the manpower to maintain their momentum into the headquarters. We had arrived at just the right time.

  One of the commander’s aides saw us approaching and alerted him with a quick tap to the shoulder. I took cover inside one of the entrances just behind him. The entrance led into a small chamber containing stacks of crates. A couple of FEA crouched inside the chamber, their torches flashing like strobe lights at a nightclub as they busied themselves with some frantic task, but I paid them little attention. My mind was focused fully onto the task at hand, preparing my section to launch past the FEA and continue the assault onto the rogue Guardsmen.

  ‘Get in here, Myers,’ I ordered, sweeping my arm inward.

  The young trooper obeyed, followed by the rest of my fire team. They packed themselves into the chamber, making use of whatever space remained in order to keep out of the access tunnel. In tunnel warfare, unlike in the trenches where the threat came from all directions, troopers that weren’t in battle often had little to do other than keep out of the way until they were needed.

  Puppy automatically ordered his own fire team into another tunnel further back, keeping them away from my own. There was no sense in us all staying in the same place where a single grenade or explosive device could kill us all.

  As I watched my Delta fire team move into cover, I heard gurgling sounds from within the chamber behind me. I realised that the FEA were busying themselves around a wounded comrade. I couldn’t see his injuries, but he bulked and convulsed as if he had been hit somewhere in the gut. At such short ranges, no body armour could stop a direct hit from a molecularly sharpened dart.

  Ignoring their plight, I turned my attention back to the access tunnel - just as the commander looked back to me and the rest of my platoon.

  ‘We are ready to assault,’ I said decisively.

  He nodded. ‘Very well, but you will fight under my control.’

  ‘No we fucking well won’t,’ the sergeant major growled from somewhere behind me, having heard the commander’s demand. He then spoke over the net, sending his instructions to the platoon. ‘One-Two, move up! You will take the left hand side of the tunnel alongside One-One!’

  ‘Roger!’ Corporal Kamara responded.

  Metal panels clanged as he brought Two Section up toward mine, keeping to the opposite side of the tunnel.

  The sergeant major continued, using the net to avoid making too much unnecessary noise. ‘Keep your men spread out,’ he said, ‘and make use of the chambers cleared by the FEA. One-Three, you will remain a tactical bound behind in reserve. Stay out of the access tunnel until called for.’

  ‘One-Three,’ Corporal Stanton acknowledged. There was no need for all of us to be in the access tunnel in direct line of fire to the Guard.

  The FEA commander watched over his shoulder as the platoon of troopers rapidly spread itself along the tunnel behind him, making use of whatever cover they could find. If he was beginning to wonder how much control we were actually allowing him, he made no show of it.

  ‘Contact front!’ one of Corporal Kamara’s men shouted suddenly.

  I didn’t pause to check
what had been seen, instinctively ducking back into the entrance moments before several darts were fired by the FEA ahead of us.

  The rest of the platoon did the same, using the numerous connecting tunnels to avoid being hit in the crossfire that followed. A thunderous roar reverberated through the warren as a ferocious battle was fought along the access tunnel between the FEA and the Guard. Then, as suddenly as it began, the noise of gunfire abated, to be replaced by a stunned silence. Somewhere an injured man moaned, his agonised cries joining the gurgles of the man slowly dying in the chamber behind me. One of his comrades began to sob.

  ‘Abu, have you cleared the tunnel?’ the commander asked, his question snatching my attention away from the sound of suffering.

  There was a commotion in the tunnel ahead of us, as if the FEA soldiers clearing it were arguing with one another. Perhaps their leader had died, leaving them unsure of what to do or who was to take his place.

  Finally, one of them spoke, and my headset translated. ‘We have cleared several tunnels, but we don’t have enough men to keep going.’

  ‘Have you taken too many casualties?’

  ‘No. We have enough men to fight, but there are too many tunnels connected to it. They head in all directions. We do not think they go anywhere.’

  ‘They must all go somewhere.’

  ‘Not necessarily,’ I uttered under my breath.

  I had spent enough time fighting underground to know that the inexperienced FEA soldiers could be describing a fighting tunnel, dug in such a way that it wove its way around the various chambers that made up the headquarters. Fighting tunnels didn’t need to lead anywhere. They were used to make certain sections of warrens near impossible to capture without taking casualties, and were often packed with explosives and directional charges to enable a defender to blast new tunnels and collapse others, opening and closing fronts as they wore their attackers down to nothing.

  ‘FEA Commander!’ the sergeant major shouted, making himself known for the first time as his patience ran out. He pointed toward the tunnel. ‘Focus your forces onto holding that tunnel! We will then advance past you!’

  ‘We do not take instructions from Union troopers!’ the commander responded.

  Beneath my headset’s impassive translation, his voice sounded angry, as though our offer to take over the battle was an insult.

  The sergeant major threw up his arms in exasperation. ‘Do you want our help or not? I’ve got a whole platoon here, while you appear to be running out of men!’

  The commander fell silent. He must have known that he and his men were completely outclassed by our platoon, but pride was often a dangerous and powerful demon in the minds of the FEA leadership.

  ‘Well? What’s it gonna be?’ the sergeant major demanded. ‘If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave you to it!’

  Another burst of darts roared through the tunnel, as if to add weight to the sergeant major’s argument.

  ‘Very well,’ the commander relented. ‘I will stay with you, so that I may remain in control.’

  ‘Whatever,’ the sergeant major said with disdain, and then spoke on the net. ‘One-One, I don’t have the fighting tunnel the FEA are clearing on my map, however, I see two chambers either side of the access tunnel which I presume are just beyond it? Do you see them?’

  I leant back out, peering through the smoke and dust that hung in the still air. My visor used the light of the FEA torches that still flashed within the chambers around us, magnifying it to help me scan the darkened access tunnel. Sure enough, there were indeed two further entrances just beyond the fighting tunnel.

  ‘Yeah, I see them,’ I confirmed.

  ‘Me too,’ Corporal Kamara added.

  ‘I also assume that they aren’t clear?’

  I shook my head. ‘I can’t see anyone.’ I then raised my voice. ‘FEA Commander, are those two tunnels ahead of us clear?’

  ‘No,’ the commander replied, and I relayed his response onto the net.

  ‘Roger,’ the sergeant major acknowledged. ‘One-One and One-Two, you will move up and assault both sides simultaneously. One-Two, your Delta fire team will cover the tunnel. One-One, your Delta fire team will remain in cover and will be used as an initial reserve. Naturally, this plan will remain flexible.’

  ‘We could use some fire support from the FEA before we move up?’ I suggested.

  He shook his head. ‘I’ll provide you cover, but nobody will fire unless they see something worth shooting at. If we spray the tunnel, then our Guardsman friends will know we’re up to something.’

  I nodded slowly, accepting his argument. Indiscriminate suppressive fire was often a useful tool for preventing a foe from popping out from cover, but we weren’t the only military unit to mask its movements with fire. The Guard would know that we were coming and simply toss a grenade out, assuming they had some left.

  The sergeant major addressed the FEA commander. ‘Provide us cover until we pass you, but do not fire unless we come under attack.’

  ‘Yes,’ the commander replied, finally accepting his place within the food chain. ‘I understand.’

  ‘All call signs, prepare to move!’

  ‘Prepare to move . . .’ The sergeant major’s message was repeated in hushed voices. The enemy were close, and their headsets could translate our speech as easily as ours could theirs.

  The sergeant major left a prolonged pause, allowing us time to ready ourselves. I braced myself for action, my fingers flexing around my rifle’s pistol grip. Across the platoon, muscles tensed, heartrates raised, and minds focused.

  ‘Move!’

  We launched forward, moving as fast as we could whilst keeping our weapons trained onto the numerous tunnel openings ahead of us. Myers took the lead, with me following just behind and to the left, so that I could still engage targets if I needed to. None of us could run, for it would spoil our aim, so instead we moved in a fast walk, hunched over our weapons to present a smaller target.

  The FEA soldiers who had been covering along the access tunnel moved out of the way as we approached, taking refuge within the cleared chambers and caves as they handed the battle over to us.

  As we neared our objective, I was able to see across into the entrance on the opposite side of the access tunnel - Two Section’s objective. I switched my aim, using my vantage point to help cover their approach.

  My visor identified a target long before my eyes did. Using both thermal imaging and image intensifier to spot recognisable shapes and patterns, my targeting system flashed red, indicating a figure stood within Two Section’s chamber.

  The magnets in my rifle shrieked as I fired several darts at the figure, the powerful recoil jarring the butt against my shoulder with every round.

  I didn’t know if I hit the figure, for he disappeared as suddenly as my visor had spotted him. It didn’t matter, though, for his appearance barely slowed our advance. Both our sections continued their charge toward the corners of both entrances, all weapons zeroed onto the opposite chamber - except for those of our lead men, who instead covered along the access tunnel.

  Without warning, several of Two Section’s men opened fire into our objective tunnel, causing me to jump backward in surprise.

  Once the firing stopped, I made a conscious effort to slow my breathing as Myers and I moved up to the entrance. Unlike the chamber opposite, this one had been sealed off by a plastic airlock with a zip-type door attached to the walls by a thick foam-like material. The Guard had originally installed them when they set up their headquarters, creating a breathable atmosphere for their command staff to work in. Although riddled with holes, the air lock was relatively intact, which meant that it would need to be unzipped or cut through to gain access.

  As we edged around into the entranceway, my visor identified a target through the plastic airlock. It was impossible to tell if the figure on the far side of the chamber beyond was friend or foe - my full spectrum imaging couldn’t identify any features in the darkness - but it
looked threatening enough.

  I fired twice in quick succession, putting two darts into the centre of the target’s mass. The figure barely made a sound as it crumpled to the ground.

  Knowing that there was no time to waste, Myers lurched forward and stabbed the airlock with his bayonet, piercing the plastic before tearing downwards.

  Suddenly another target appeared, and we both leapt backward in surprise.

  ‘Shit!’ Myers barely managed to get the word out before I gripped his daysack and snatched him backward.

  There was a terrible noise and a flash of light as the figure fired at us, his darts punching through the airlock and striking the wall right next to my helmet. Sparks showered as the pair of us ducked away from the entrance.

  ‘Contact front!’ somebody shouted from over my shoulder.

  Suddenly the warren erupted into noise, and I realised that somebody had appeared further along the access tunnel as well. The rocky walls around me flickered with red light as a torrent of darts was unleashed over my head.

  ‘Get in there, Moralee!’ the sergeant major shouted urgently.

  Needing no encouragement, I darted back into the chamber entrance, firing another two rounds in the general direction of my enemy. There was no time for my rifle to correct my aim, and I was probably too close for that anyway, but I achieved the intended surprise. Just as we had done, the figure leapt to the right and disappeared from view.

  I needed to maintain momentum, not just for the sake of my platoon but for the sake of my own survival. The figure had jumped out of the way just as I had, but I wouldn’t allow for him to compose himself like he had me.

  ‘Cover me!’ I ordered Myers, and reached out to grasp the open gash that he had torn in the airlock door. I tugged it back toward me with all my might, ripping it fully open before stepping through.