RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5)

by Phillip Richards

  Overhead, our small flotilla of dropships hovered, many of them still containing their cargo of regular troopers. Once we had fully dismounted, B Company would then withdraw back to Helsinki Forward Operating Base, though after that their future would be uncertain.

  ‘Do you not wish you could go back with them?’ Yulia asked suddenly.

  I realised that she had knelt close to my side and was studying me carefully. I frowned. ‘And do what?’

  She shrugged slightly. ‘Leave this place.’

  I said nothing, instead turning my head up to take one last look at the dropships above our heads.

  ‘No,’ I replied sadly, after several seconds. ‘I belong here now.’

  Yulia searched into my eyes, or at least she attempted to in the rapidly fading light. I doubted she could see past my visor.

  The sergeant major harrumphed. ‘Let’s go, Corporal Moralee. We’ll slot in behind your fire team.’

  As the sergeant major repeated his call to move off over the net, I tapped my datapad screen, bringing up the waypoints on my visor display. The first crosshair hung in the air deceptively close, though the figure beneath it told me that it marked a location almost fifteen kilometres away. It was going to be a long night.

  ‘Myers,’ I said over the section net. ‘Can you see the route?’

  ‘Yeah.’ His reply was curt.

  ‘Good. Move off.’

  The platoon melted away into the forest, each of the three sections taking its own route toward the border with Europa. Sandwiching the sergeant major and his two-man entourage between our two fire teams, we snaked through the undergrowth in single file, heading in the same direction as the orange fireballs that flew through the darkening sky.

  As the light slowly failed, my visor imaging switched to a mixture of thermal and image intensifier, using all available forms of light in order to maintain my visibility. Stepping over rocks and exposed roots with relative ease, I wondered how well Yulia would be handling the move without any form of night vision.

  I was mad with Yulia, I realised as I marched through the shadows of the forest, even though I had no real reason to be. Perhaps she had told the OC about what had happened in the valley, but it was just as likely that she hadn’t. The sergeant major might have told him, or perhaps he had simply worked it all out himself. After all, the OC was probably wise enough to learn our individual section call signs.

  The true reason for my anger had nothing to do with my suspicion that she had spoken with the OC about me, though. It was the way she had looked at me ever since my ill-fated attack. Behind her usually cold, uncompromising stare was something new. Concern, perhaps pity . . . either way, I didn’t like it. I didn’t like for her to see me in such a state of weakness. I didn’t want anyone to see me at all.

  Our move toward the border was event free. Apart from the distant thumping that told of the orbital bombardment, and the orange glow of bombs falling through the night sky, the forest was utterly still and deathly silent.

  Less than a kilometre south of the first marker, Griffiths tapped his mammoth gun barrel gently to catch my attention from behind, then signalled for me to stop. I passed the message up to Myers, and we both dropped to one knee, scanning outward into the dark with our rifles.

  I glanced back over my shoulder, trying to see why I had been ordered to stop. Yulia and the sergeant major were crouched together just behind my fire team, looking as though they were discussing something. After a few minutes, Yulia stood and left the section, marching purposefully into the trees.

  Whilst I watched the ex-Guard captain walk away, the sergeant major approached me and took a knee at my side. He then leant close to me, his visor gently tapping against mine.

  ‘There’s an old research laboratory a few kilometres to our west,’ he explained in a whisper, ‘this side of the border. It’s on our maps, but it’s only marked as an area of historical interest. Apparently that’s where Captain Kristov’s friends are.’

  ‘Who are they?’ I asked.

  ‘A farming community with connections on both sides of the border. Supposedly they know the ground well, as well as the location of every major installation within our ops box. They’re sympathetic to our cause . . . or so she says.’

  ‘You don’t believe her, though.’ It was statement rather than a question.

  He shook his head. ‘It’s not that I don’t believe her. Like I said before, she’s proven her worth. It’s the people she works with that we can’t trust. You’ve seen how fickle the people of the Bosque are . . . they side with whoever they’re most afraid of at the time.’

  ‘So what’s the plan?’

  ‘She’s going to go in on her own whilst we continue to the harbour. Sending in a section of Union troopers probably isn’t wise. If anything it’s likely to freak them out. We’ll give her some time to butter them up and make sure they have something to offer. It’ll add some kilometres on to our boots, but I want to make sure we’re properly established in our ops box before we start seeking targets.’

  I nodded. The plan made sense. If the farmers were hostile toward us, Yulia would hopefully detect their animosity long before we arrived. Without even having had the time to properly digest our orders, we were in no rush to start visiting nearby population centres.

  ‘Right.’ The sergeant major stood. ‘Let’s get moving. I want to be in location by midnight.’

  Passing through the border between Edo and Europa was far easier than I had expected. I had imagined our scanners going wild as they detected a seemingly impenetrable wall of sensors and powered-up weapons, but there were very few signs to indicate that we had crossed between the two provinces at all.

  A few times we picked up electronic signals emitted from what appeared to be small encampments. There were also a couple of automated guns, minor defences and sensory equipment, but nothing we couldn’t avoid using the scanners. Large gaps were left in their defences - large gaps which I assumed were once filled by patrolling Loyalist soldiers and Militiamen.

  Europa wasn’t frightened of FEA or Guard incursions into their territory, especially now that the Union threatened to invade. Our ability to land entire battalions of dropship infantry from orbit meant that border defences were irrelevant, and instead Loyalist soldiers would be deployed around potential landing sites, warrens and urban areas deeper within the province. The Militia would have been used as a border force in their place, maintaining a buffer between the two provinces. With their unrivalled brutality and unquenchable thirst for blood, they were more than enough to deter even the most determined army that Edo could assemble. Most of those Militiamen had been sucked into the battle for Cellini, though, effectively leaving the border undefended.

  The platoon rendezvoused a few kilometres north of the border, with each of the three sections arriving within thirty minutes of each other. None of us encountered any problems during our insertion, though Stan’s section reported a mobile patrol moving out to the west. Satisfied that the platoon had survived the crossing in good order, the sergeant major ordered us to continue toward the first of his proposed harbour locations.

  It took us several hours to site our patrol harbour. The process for selecting and occupying a suitable base from which to conduct operations was laborious, especially since ours was behind enemy lines and not far from the border. Each time we would go firm, forming up into a compact triangular snap ambush, where we would watch, wait and listen for several minutes just in case somebody was following close behind. Then the sergeant major would take me, the other two section commanders, his signaller and a mammoth gunner from each section in order to conduct a recce of the chosen harbour location, leaving the remainder of the platoon under Corporal Abdi’s control.

  There were so many things that we needed to look for when selecting a decent harbour. The first and most obvious was that it needed to be easily concealed. On New Earth, Uralis, or any other barren planet that became a tricky requirement to satisfy, but fortunatel
y for us the dense forest of the Bosque made it much easier. A harbour also needed to be easy to defend, so sticking it at the foot of a hill was unwise, but at the same time it should be inconspicuous, so putting it at the top of a big hill or close to an objective was equally foolish. It needed good, covered patrol routes in and out, and commanders needed to consider emergency rally points in the event of the harbour being attacked as well as dropship landing sites should we require immediate extraction or casualty evacuation.

  All of these requirements needed to be met during our recce, otherwise we would return to the platoon, wait for another few minutes, and then move off again. We had to move twice. The first time because the canopy was too sparse, meaning that the harbour was visible by air, and the second time because we detected a small trace of electronic activity right at the end of our recce. It was probably nothing, perhaps just a glitch in our scanners, but we weren’t willing to take the chance.

  Our third potential harbour was a few kilometres further east, and was situated on a slightly raised plateau in an otherwise uninteresting location. The rise in the ground was too small to be recorded on any map, and barely visible thanks to thick vegetation, but it offered us a distinct advantage over any attacking force. Our only concern was that the thickness of the undergrowth would reduce our visibility to less than ten metres in all directions, and would make our new home far from comfortable.

  ‘What do you think?’ the sergeant major asked us after we finished patrolling around the outside of the plateau.

  ‘It’ll do the job,’ I replied.

  Stan and Corporal Kamara nodded. It wasn’t perfect, but then no harbour was ever perfect. If it was, then it would be as attractive to the enemy as it was to us.

  Happy with the location itself, our final task was to work out the layout of the harbour, making sure we were happy where everyone would be going to avoid confusion when we brought the platoon in. The sergeant major sited the three mammoth gunners around the edges of the plateau, giving it security as well as marking out the apexes of the triangular formation the platoon would form as part of the harbour. Each section would take one side of the triangle, giving us the all-around defence we needed whilst making it easy for us to rest and administer ourselves in between patrols. Platoon headquarters was situated in the centre of the harbour, allowing the sergeant major to control it easily.

  Avoiding the unnecessary use of net transmissions, Corporal Stanton was sent along with one of the sergeant major’s men to collect the platoon, whilst we all congregated at the centre of the harbour.

  The sergeant major lifted his head to check that the three mammoth gunners had all our arcs covered, and then crouched down with his back against a tree.

  ‘We’ll set up here as quickly as possible,’ he instructed as we knelt around him. ‘Then I’ll set a period of forced rest - four hours minimum.’

  Forced rest simply meant that nobody was allowed to do anything apart from perform sentry duties or sleep, and it was well called for. Everyone was exhausted, having not slept properly for days, and without sleep even the most professional troopers would slowly deteriorate into irritable, forgetful morons.

  I checked my visor clock. It was already well past midnight, meaning that our first patrol would set off in the early hours of the morning, not long before the sun rose.

  ‘You know the drill,’ the sergeant major reminded us. ‘Once the lads are in position we’ll have a soak period for five minutes, then I want you to send out clearance patrols for a final confirmation of the surrounding area. The things I want them to look for are signs of enemy, local activity or potential emergency rally points and extraction routes.’

  We nodded, remembering. The platoon hadn’t occupied a regular patrol harbour during the entire time I had been with them, but we had all practiced the procedure many times during our training.

  He continued. ‘Once the patrols are complete, I want sentries posted and all sensors placed out. Then connect a comms line to me in the centre. Questions?’

  ‘Who’s going to meet with Yulia?’ I asked.

  The sergeant major addressed me. ‘I want your section to rendezvous with Kristov later tonight. Clearly you have a better rapport with her than any of us, so we’ll take advantage of that fact. We’ll discuss in greater detail once everyone is in the harbour.’

  ‘Understood.’

  He looked up, then gestured over my shoulder. ‘Here they come.’

  Stan and Abs brought the platoon into the harbour in single file, leading them in through the southern apex of the triangle. I met my section, then led them around to their side of the formation and sited their individual positions, facing outward.

  I placed my troopers out in pairs, pointing out exactly where I wanted them to lie and making sure that they were evenly spaced along its side of the triangle. Upon being shown his position, each trooper quietly removed his daysack and lay down, taking up aim into the surrounding wall of foliage. Once finished, I returned to Myers, who I had placed on his own, and laid down beside him.

  ‘I’m knackered,’ Myers whispered.

  Though his statement was worded as a complaint, I could tell that it was an attempt to return to dialogue and clear the air between us. Our long walk through the forest had given us all time to think, waging war against the demons that stalked through our minds. Whatever it was that haunted our souls, it was nothing that could break our small team apart. We shared in each other’s misery, and though at times our suffering caused friction, it pulled us together rather than pulled us apart.

  ‘Me too,’ I replied. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get some sleep soon.’

  ‘Will you?’

  I sighed. ‘Probably not.’

  We stared out into the forest in silence. There wasn’t much of a view, even with our night vision - not that we really needed one. The ground sloped very gently downward in front of us, which didn’t offer much in terms of immediate protection from enemy fire, but it did mean that if we crawled backward into the centre of the plateau then we would have some cover.

  After five minutes I took Myers with me on clearance patrol, making sure I told everyone I was leaving the harbour first. I didn’t want a tired set of eyes mistaking me for a Militiaman whilst I patrolled in front of my section line, especially since our visor targeting systems probably wouldn’t identify me until it was too late. Finding nothing of interest, we returned to the harbour, and I dropped off Myers before making my way to the sergeant major to confirm all was clear on my side.

  As soon as all three sections reported that their respective sides of the triangle were clear, we moved on to the next phase of establishing the harbour. I instructed Puppy to rig up an optic cable along our section line, whilst I moved out with my fire team and placed out a pincushion, along with several visual and noise sensors. We then laid out optical cable to connect them back to the platoon network, carefully covering the cable with foliage so that it couldn’t be stumbled upon accidentally.

  Puppy had produced a sentry list by the time we had returned, and Wildgoose was the first man on duty, watching out from the apex where the mammoth had been sited. I gave him a small nod as I returned to the harbour with my fire team, stopping to connect the optic cable to a junction box Puppy had left on the sentry position. Wildgoose had already plugged his datapad into the junction box, connecting himself to the platoon hardwire network.

  ‘I’ve got comms with the sergeant major,’ he informed me as I worked.

  ‘Good,’ I replied. That meant that Puppy had completed his task of connecting us with platoon headquarters. With all three sections and their array of sensors networked together, we could communicate and operate all of our defences without having to move or transmit.

  ‘Glad to get this stag out of the way first,’ he said with a trace of smugness. First stag was often the favourite, since it often guaranteed a long unbroken sleep before the sentry list repeated itself. . . besides, everyone was still up and working anyway.


  ‘I envy you, mate,’ I said, humouring him. ‘I’ve got a patrol to plan, yet.’

  ‘Puppy said we’re going to meet up with Yulia?’

  I nodded. ‘That’s right.’

  Suddenly Wildgoose looked up at me in alarm, then quickly waved his arm downwards. ‘Enemy aircraft!’

  I instantly dropped to the ground, motioning for the others to do the same.

  We ducked as low as possible, trying to bury ourselves in whatever undergrowth we could find. The forest canopy was thick, but there was no guarantee that it would stop an aircraft from picking up our thermal signature even with the kit we were wearing.

  I couldn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean nothing was above us. Most dropships, saucers and other aircraft were virtually silent. It was only the air rushing around them when they moved that produced a noise.

  ‘Where is it?’ I asked quietly, as if it could hear us.

  Wildgoose stared blankly into space, concentrating on the information being sent through to him via the newly assembled network. ‘About a K north.’

  ‘What’s it doing?’

  ‘Moving slowly. West to east.’

  ‘Patrol aircraft?’

  ‘Richelieu thinks it’s a gravtank.’

  Whilst continuing to pound Europa with its bombs, our orbital top cover had still found time to spot the gravtank long before we would have. It gave me some reassurance to know that somebody up there was still watching our back, and they hadn’t completely forgotten us.

  ‘What did Richelieu say?’ Griffiths hissed from his hiding place ten metres behind me.

  Myers lifted his head above the ferns. ‘Gravtank.’

  ‘Shit!’ the Welsh trooper exclaimed, crouching even lower.

  I shared Griffiths’ concern. This was the first time we had operated somewhere where the enemy had air superiority. Even though our warships held control of orbit, none of our aircraft had entered the atmosphere above Europa, and they probably wouldn’t for some time. The navy would bombard the province from far above, minimising the risk from the Loyalist anti- orbital defences whilst they slowly softened their target prior to the next phase of the campaign. There was no rush, it could be days before the first Union aircraft joined the battle.