RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5)

by Phillip Richards

  I joined Myers, and peered down at the murky water below. It appeared to flow gently along a wide tunnel no more than a metre beneath us.

  ‘How fast does it flow?’ I asked. On the surface it might look calm, but I knew that even the stillest body of water could hide a powerful current beneath it.

  ‘Not very fast,’ Yulia answered. She nodded at the hardware around us. ‘It is normally pumped out by these machines during bad weather, but the machines are not working. Gravity is doing all of the work now.’

  ‘Is it deep?’

  ‘Waist-deep.’

  Myers snorted. ‘Brilliant.’

  ‘What’s going on, Moralee?’ the sergeant major demanded as he arrived at the edge of the drain. He followed our gaze and swore at the sight of the flowing water. ‘I presume we’re going down there?’

  ‘Looks that way, sir.’

  Without waiting for the sergeant major’s reply, Yulia sat on the edge of the drain and lowered herself into the sewer below. She gave a small gasp, presumably as the cold water soaked into her clothes. Sure enough, the water went up to her waist.

  She turned her head up to us. ‘We must keep moving if we wish to catch up with Bhasin.’

  The sergeant major merely grunted in response, then sent a comms check up to B Company instead. They promptly confirmed that they could hear us loud and clear. The optical cables running through the tunnels had delivered the message as if we were transmitting in the open.

  I knew what he was thinking when he sent the message. Fortunately, for us, the warren network extended all the way into its lowest levels, but it was unlikely to extend into the sewer system.

  ‘We could leave link men as we go, sir,’ I urged. ‘That way we’ll keep comms going.’

  Although our individual comms couldn’t transmit through rock, our range was clearly far greater than the length of any tunnel, so the distance we could cover whilst maintaining comms to the surface depended entirely on how many corners and junctions the sewer system presented us with. It was worth a try.

  The sergeant major looked over his shoulder. ‘Three Section, let’s get some ropes set up, just in case we need to get out.’ He turned back to me. ‘Go on, then, Corporal Moralee.’

  I perched on the edge of the drain, then braced my arms either side of me as I slowly eased myself down into the icy water. The cold instantly took my breath away, and I struggled to retain my composure.

  Yulia grabbed me by the waist, helping to lower me without making a splash. I was carrying a lot more equipment than she was, after all.

  ‘Shit . . .’ I breathed once my feet found solid ground. ‘That’s cold.’

  For a moment I thought I saw a smile flash across Yulia’s face - though it might have just been a reflection in her respirator. ‘It is very cold,’ she agreed. ‘This is why nobody would want to come down here.’

  Realisation suddenly spread across my face, the cold forgotten. ‘This is where you hid the missiles, isn’t it?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes. After the Alliance retreated and our old politicians surrendered, we moved the missiles into the sewerage system because we knew the Union weapons inspectors wouldn’t find them here. I was still a child when this happened.’

  ‘Edo stopped letting the inspectors in, though, didn’t they?’ I asked, already knowing the answer. Edo had stopped allowing us to inspect their warrens for weapons not long after the president took control and the Presidential Guard were formed.

  ‘That is correct,’ Yulia agreed, ‘but your spies and special forces could still find them . . .’

  ‘A little help here?’ Myers interrupted from above.

  I looked up to see him dangling awkwardly from the drain. It looked as though his daysack had become caught on something.

  I reached up and grabbed him around the waist, gently helping him down into the water just as Yulia had for me.

  ‘Shit the bed!’ the young trooper exclaimed as the icy water lapped around him. ‘Why has it got to be so cold?’

  I ignored his complaint, and instead gestured upward. ‘Help the next man down, mate. I’ll push up the tunnel a bit.’ I looked to Yulia. ‘Which way?’

  She pointed in the same direction as the flow of water. ‘This way.’

  She led off, and I waded through the water after her, carefully testing the ground beneath each foot to make sure that I had a firm footing. Thoughts of me or one of my men falling into an open drain and disappearing into the murky water filled me with dread, and I made sure that all of my weight was removed from my lead foot until I was certain that the ground was solid. The water lapped around my waist, soaking through my armour and my combats and sending a chill through my body. I shivered involuntarily.

  Once we had left enough space for the platoon to form up behind us, I whispered for Yulia to stop. It was annoying having to stop again, but I couldn’t really move off until a sizeable portion of our manpower were in the water, otherwise I would risk leaving people behind. Yulia seemed to accept this without question - which was to be expected given her past military experience.

  One by one, the platoon quickly filed into the sewer, each trooper stopping to help his comrade behind him. Ropes fell down at either side of the drain, attached to something within the room above to provide us with the means to climb back out if something went wrong.

  Attached to either side of the tunnel were more hazard signs, I noticed as I waited, no doubt highlighting the risk of drowning to anybody stupid enough to come down into the sewers.

  ‘I seriously doubt it’s just the cold that puts people off looking down here,’ I said.

  ‘It’s putting me off,’ Myers uttered from behind us.

  Yulia followed my stare and saw the signs. ‘The sewers are extremely dangerous if you do not know what you’re doing.’

  As if to highlight the point, somebody swore as he fell into the water with a splash that caused us to jump. In typical trooper fashion, he was then quickly berated by his mates as they pulled him to his feet.

  ‘Belter,’ Myers said quietly. I couldn’t help but flash a rare smile at the comical disdain in his voice. Whoever had fallen was probably soaked up to his neck, but he wasn’t getting any sympathy, only ridicule.

  I caught a glimpse of Yulia’s face in the torchlight, and she didn’t look impressed at all.

  ‘So . . . you’re working for the FEA?’ I asked, stealing her attention from the cursing troopers.

  She regarded me for a second. ‘Yes. After I turned against Bhasin in Dakar, I fled into the forest along with the soldiers who had fought with me. We sought sanctuary in a village far to the south, but we were not there long. Agents working for the FEA recruited us. They told us about the Alliance plan to return, and that the Union have made a deal with them to remove the president from power. There are people within the FEA high command who do not agree with the president or the way he uses the Guard to control his people . . .’

  ‘And then they sent you here, armed with Union weapons,’ I finished, remembering the bodies of the rebel fighters we had found when we first captured Cellini. They had suddenly attacked the Loyalist defenders, catching them by surprise and turning the tide of the battle in our favour before melting back into the shadows as the village was liberated. Upon discovering the bodies, we had noted that they were heavily armed - with European equipment.

  ‘Countless Union weapons have been sent into Edo to help us beat back the Loyalists,’ Yulia explained. ‘Almost all of them go to the FEA because the Guard say they do not need them. The agents provided us with weapons from one of your convoys.’

  I studied Yulia with unease. I didn’t doubt her story. I knew as well as her that the largest part of the Union’s intervention into the Edo-Europa conflict came in the form of weapons aid and logistical support. I had witnessed the enormous convoys of robotic vehicles being loaded with tonnes of weapons and ammunition, all intended for the FEA. There was something else that concerned me, however, though I couldn’t quite put
my finger on it.

  Myers let out a noise as he shivered involuntarily in the water. ‘We need to get moving, before my pipe drops off!’

  ‘All two centimetres of it,’ Puppy added, having closed up behind us with the rest of his fire team.

  Myers snorted. ‘Nice one!’ He made a show of looking around the tunnel. ‘All this, just because this bell end Bhasin wants to hand a couple of missiles over to the Militia . . .’

  ‘They are very powerful missiles,’ Yulia pointed out. ‘Bhasin cannot be seen giving them to Helstrom. He knew he couldn’t take them out from the top of the hill, so he must use a different route.’

  ‘The Loyalists already have thousands of anti-orbital missiles,’ Myers argued. ‘We let them keep them because we didn’t mind them shooting at Alliance ships - until now. What difference will these missiles make?’

  ‘Regular Loyalist soldiers have anti-orbital missiles,’ she corrected irritably. ‘They are not stupid enough to fire at Alliance warships. If they did, the deal between the Union and the Alliance would be broken, but Europa would still be bombed. Helstrom and his militiamen are not as sensible. This is why they do not have any missiles. Europa does not trust them with such things.’

  The sergeant major arrived at the rear of my section, and I could see that most of Two Section were already down inside the sewer. There was no time to waste.

  ‘Prepare to move,’ I whispered back to Myers, ending his conversation with Yulia. I gave the message a few moments to pass back.

  No protest returned from the sergeant major, so I presumed that he was happy to move off before all of Three Section had closed up.

  ‘Want me to lead off?’ Myers asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ I replied. ‘No more torchlight, though. We don’t know how fast Bhasin’s moving, or if he’s left anyone behind. I think Yulia should be right on your shoulder, rather than next to me. She knows the ground.’

  Yulia nodded. She knew it was far too dangerous for Myers to lead on his own, especially when he had no idea what was beneath his feet. It would be easy for him, or any one of us, to accidentally fall into a hidden drain, dragged downward by the weight of his equipment. If it weren’t for her lack of night vision, I would have made her lead at the front.

  We deactivated our torches, plunging the platoon into total darkness. My visor quickly adjusted to thermal imaging, taking advantage of the difference in temperature between the water and the tunnel walls. It was impossible to distinguish any detail, but we could navigate the tunnel easily enough.

  ‘I’m gonna grab your hand, Yulia,’ Myers warned, stepping close to her.

  Without need for further explanation, she held her hand outward for the young trooper and he took it, placing it onto his daysack.

  ‘There’s a handle on the top,’ he said.

  Yulia felt the top of Myers’ daysack, finding the handle and wrapping her fingers around it. ‘I have it in my hand.’

  ‘Cool. Hang on. Tell me if I’m going too fast, and I’ll tell you if I see any junctions or changes in direction.’

  ‘That is fine,’ she said. ‘I know the route well. This tunnel runs for almost a kilometre, but the current is with us, so it will be easy.’

  ‘I’ll be just behind you both,’ I added. ‘Crack on when you’re ready.’

  ‘Roger. Moving.’

  Myers stepped off with Yulia hanging on to his daysack. It was mildly amusing to watch them move as a pair, one knowing where to go but unable to see, the other able to see but with no idea of where to go. Between the two of them they made a functioning guide.

  I turned around and tapped Weatherall. ‘Moving off. Stay close.’

  He gave an exaggerated nod. ‘Roger.’

  I followed after Myers and Yulia, leaving no more than a couple of metres between me and the unlikely pair. The need to stay close together was never greater as not only was I worried about the platoon getting split if the tunnel forked, I was just as worried about the potential dangers lurking beneath our feet. Yulia might claim to know the underground sewer system well, but I doubted that she had spent long enough down there to know every square metre.

  As we cautiously patrolled down into the depths of the sewers, I found myself thinking about Yulia’s story again. Clearly there was far more to her tale - the time pressure had forced her to omit much of the detail - but part of what she had said made me feel uneasy. She’d mentioned agents that had found her and her group of disaffected soldiers after the Dakar massacre . . . so did that mean she never met the people relaying her instructions?

  The agent’s resources were obviously substantial. In less than a couple of days, hundreds of FEA and Guard deserters were armed with Union weapons and turned around to perform an elaborate and highly dangerous task, using tens of kilometres of ancient pipeline to infiltrate into the sewers and attack the Loyalists from below. Such an operation couldn’t have been planned and prepared in such a short space of time, not if it was to be timed so perfectly with our own operation on the surface. It was all too elaborate.

  The actions of Yulia’s band of rebels had undoubtedly made our capture of Cellini village far easier. Without their help, the FEA battalions tasked with clearing the warren and the village itself would have sustained far more casualties. The question was, who was it that had pulled the strings to create this tiny, secret army? Was it some disgruntled FEA commanders, or was it someone else? The political situation across Eden had become so complex, so fractured, that it was almost impossible to understand who worked for who. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that everything Yulia wanted was in line with our own objectives, but she had been a useful ally up until now. Hopefully she would remain so.

  My thoughts were interrupted by a sudden metallic clang. I froze. My fingers tightened on my pistol grip, pulling the butt of my rifle firmly against my shoulder. My trigger finger hovered over the power up button, twitching nervously.

  ‘What was that?’ Weatherall hissed nervously.

  Nobody replied for a moment. We all held our breath, straining to hear any other sounds that might suggest someone was nearby.

  ‘Expanding metal,’ Yulia decided. ‘It will happen when the temperature changes.’

  ‘Does the temperature change that much this far underground?’

  ‘I think so. We should keep moving.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I replied, slightly reluctantly. I turned back and waved for the platoon to follow on.

  ‘This is like something out of a bad horror hologram,’ Myers uttered under his breath.

  After ten minutes of slow patrolling through freezing water, the current through the sewer began to increase.

  ‘The tunnel opens into the underground reservoir in a few hundred metres,’ Yulia told us.

  As we continued our advance, the flow of water increased dramatically, and then I noticed an opening ahead of us, presumably where the tunnel met the reservoir. Something about that sudden opening, and the increased flow of water caused alarm bells to ring in my head.

  ‘It’s a waterfall!’ Myers exclaimed with a hiss.

  ‘Do not worry,’ she replied, pushing him on. ‘There is a grill there to stop us from falling. Even if it were not there, the fall would not kill you.’

  ‘No, but the water below might,’ I said testily, noticing the sound of roaring water ahead of me.

  Yulia’s voice softened suddenly. ‘Trust me, Andy.’

  The sudden familiarity in her voice surprised me, causing me to briefly forget the coldness of the water and the drag of the current. Perhaps the sergeant major was right. Perhaps Yulia had developed a bit of a hold over me . . . but I did trust her. So did Myers, evidently, because he continued onward without so much as slowing the pace, with her following on directly behind him.

  At its end the tunnel opened into an enormous cavern, though my thermal imaging couldn’t distinguish its exact size or shape. The cavern was filled with water, the vast underground lake showing up as a black void on my visor display, ten or tw
enty metres below. Sure enough, there was indeed a grill stopping us from falling down along with the water pouring out of the sewer. Rather than covering the tunnel entrance, though, the grill was actually part of a corridor formed of wire mesh and metal scaffolding that had been bolted onto the cavern walls. Through my visor I could see that it snaked along the wall for about fifty metres, slowly descending to a rocky platform of some kind.

  ‘Can you see where you are going?’ Yulia asked Myers with a rare trace of caution. ‘You can see a walkway?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he replied, ‘I can see the walkway. Come on.’

  We treaded carefully along the mesh corridor, instinctively increasing the space between us in a bid to decrease the weight it had to bear. We were all acutely aware of the danger we faced if it were to detach itself, we only had to look downward for a reminder. A friend had once wondered if a respirator worked underwater . . . the answer was of course it didn’t. If the walkway fell, then we would land in a reservoir filled with water . . . and the metal surrounding us would become a cage in which we would surely drown.

  I swept my rifle across the cavern, scanning for targets, but my visor came up with nothing. Apart from the water cascading down from the tunnel behind us, the reservoir was utterly still. I wondered how large it was, since I could barely distinguish the far walls, and then I wondered how many other tunnels connected to it. There must have been several that connected to the village, including those that allowed Yulia and her men to move without being detected.

  ‘This is a natural reservoir,’ Yulia explained in a whisper as we crept along the mesh corridor. ‘It was here many thousands of years before our ancestors came to Eden . . . perhaps longer. It is the reason why the air factory was built here, because it needs fresh water and there was much less rain then. Many years later, the Alliance joined the warren to the reservoir because of the rains that our terraforming created. We turned it into a drain. After the Alliance retreated from Eden and the Union claimed victory, this is where we kept the missiles - under the water.’

  I peered through the mesh at my feet, gazing down into the jet-black water below. ‘Actually in the water?’