Something moved just inside my peripheral vision and I jumped, my hand instinctively darting toward the pistol grip of my rifle.
It was Yulia. She was wearing her jumpsuit again, though the upper half was left unzipped, revealing a grey vest beneath it. Her long dark hair was still wet from her shower, and was left to flow down onto her shoulders.
‘Alright?’ I greeted her with caution.
‘Yes,’ she said, running a hand through her hair. ‘It is nice to be clean again. Your second in command said you will stay here until nightfall?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah. The sergeant major ordered us not to return before dark unless we have urgent information to pass on. Butch’s survival is a good bit of morale for the platoon, but it’s nothing that can’t wait. Besides, my men haven’t slept properly for days.’
‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘When did you last sleep?’
‘Properly?’ I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. In Paraiso hospital I guess.’
‘When you were injured?’
I nodded.
‘That was a long time ago,’ she said, with a hint of concern. ‘You should sleep, too.’
‘I will, once I’m relieved.’
Yulia studied me for a moment, then the corner of her mouth twitched. ‘You are afraid to sleep, I think.’
I bristled. ‘You think that’s funny?’
‘No,’ she replied quickly. Then, without warning, she turned and sat beside me. ‘I do not think it is funny. Many of the people I have worked with struggled to sleep. Sometimes I struggle to sleep.’
I glanced at her. ‘Why?’
She turned her head upwards as she sought the right words. ‘Bad thoughts. Nightmares. Sometimes I dream of my family . . . before the war. Then I remember them dying . . .’
‘How did they die?’
‘My family were killed by the Union when they bombed our town,’ she said, her lip curling slightly. ‘A piece of the dome collapsed onto our home, and it crushed them. I was found a day later. Everyone I knew was dead.’
‘Sorry,’ I said awkwardly, instantly regretting the question. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘It’s OK. You did not drop the bombs.’
‘So then you joined the Guard?’ I asked, happy to find out more of her past, rather than dwelling upon my own.
‘When the president took control, all of the orphans like me were looked after by the Guard. We were trained from an early age, and taught to hate you for what you did to us. Many of us were selected to be officers.’
‘How old were you when you became an officer?’ I asked.
‘Eighteen.’
My brow raised in surprise. ‘Eighteen?’
She looked at me. ‘This is a young age?’
‘Our officers don’t commission until their early twenties,’ I explained. ‘If they were any younger, I don’t think anybody would respect them at all.’
Yulia scowled. ‘My soldiers respected me!’
‘Sorry,’ I responded quickly, holding up a calming hand. ‘I wasn’t trying to insult you. I meant that you must have been a very good officer to be given a commission so young.’
The ex-Guard captain eyed me sternly, seeing through my blatant use of a compliment to diffuse the situation. ‘It is easy for Europe. It is a vast nation, with many people to choose from. We have less than eight million citizens, and no army after the Alliance left us. We could not afford to wait longer.’
‘So, what did you do? After you commissioned?’
Yulia hesitated.
‘You might as well tell me,’ I said. ‘What does it matter now?’
She pursed her lips for a moment, then surrendered. 'I served in the Liberty Campaign, on the border with Paraiso.’
My mouth opened. ‘Oh.’
The Liberty Campaign was Edo’s name for the guerrilla war that had raged before my arrival. Small units of Presidential Guard were being sent across the border to attack Paraiso’s infrastructure and industry, mostly within lands annexed to the wealthy province after the Alliance fled the planet. It was a bitter campaign, where everyone and everything was considered a target, including civilians. The Guard were hated because of the atrocities they committed during that campaign, but in the end their vicious attack against Paraiso only served to anger an equally vicious and bloodthirsty opponent - Europa.
Yulia paused, obviously deep in thought. ‘Does this upset you?’ she asked.
I thought about it. ‘Not really. It probably would have done once, but I think we’ve gone past that. So, after that you moved to the warren at Cellini?’
‘Yes. I met Bhasin during the Liberty Campaign. He was one of the commanders there. He moved me to Cellini a year before the invasion, saying that the Loyalists were coming and that he wanted me to help defend against them. That is how I know so much about the warren under the hill, because I was there for so long. Copehill used to provide us with food, which is why I know Marcus.’
‘You seem to be very . . . well connected,’ I said carefully, ‘even though you’re no longer in the Guard.’
Yulia stared back at me blankly.
I decided that now was as good as any time to probe her. ‘Were you in charge of all those people that attacked the warren?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you destroy the missiles?’
‘Those were not my instructions. We were ordered to secure the missiles and then attack the warren.’
‘And after that?’
Yulia’s face hardened as she began to realise that she was being interrogated. ‘Nothing. That was our mission. It did not matter anyway. After Cellini was captured Bhasin and his men began hunting us.’
‘So who is giving you orders now?’
‘No one,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I am not yet able to communicate with the agents who sent me to Cellini, or the people who stayed back at the pumping station on the other end of the pipeline.’
‘There are people waiting for you?’
‘Not any more. I am sure they would have moved away from the pumping station by now.’
I paused thoughtfully, searching for more questions. There was something more to her operation, something that still affected us and our mission, I was sure of it. Was Aleksi right? Was she unwittingly working for Bhasin?
Yulia eyed me warily. ‘What are you thinking, Andy?’
‘Nothing,’ I said, waving her concern away. ‘I was just curious. So I guess you’ll be staying here, then? You know we’re not chasing Bhasin anymore.’
‘But you will attack Helstrom, and his base further north,’ she said, almost as an instruction. Yulia seemed to be dead-set on continuing the chase after Helstrom and the missiles, presumably in hope that she might find Bhasin as well. Just like me, she was thirsty for revenge.
I shook my head sadly. ‘We’re not going after Helstrom. I want to, believe me, but it’s not my choice to make. We still take our orders from EJOC, and they wouldn’t allow it.’ I looked down at the ground. ‘Our platoon commander is lost.’
Yulia watched me for several moments. ‘You care for him very much.’
'I care for all my comrades,' I corrected her. 'He was my boss before, though. On New Earth.'
'The invasion?'
I nodded. 'Yeah.'
The ex-Guard captain looked upward, as if she could see through the storeroom roof and into the heavens. 'We saw the Union's battle with the Chinese as a punishment for their own treachery against the Alliance. Many said it was karma.'
It was my turn to bristle in anger at her comment. 'Tens of thousands died on New Earth!'
'As they did here,' she replied unflinchingly.
I glared at her for a moment, then sighed. 'Mr Barkley led my platoon against the Chinese when I was just a trooper. We lost many comrades . . . pretty much all of them. He is one of the few left.'
'I understand. You have a bond formed because you have survived something terrible. You are like brothers.'
'I guess. Except the
boss isn't that fond of me.'
Yulia’s brow raised in surprise. 'Why?'
'He's angry that I called artillery onto the Guard at Dakar. It was used by your president as propaganda to enrage the Alliance.'
Her surprise turned into a deep frown. 'How could he be angry about that? You did the right thing. The Guard were going to kill civilians.'
'I don't think he saw it that way. He believes that I was risking even more lives.'
'Has he said this to you?'
'No. I just know.'
She fell silent for a while. 'Do you think that you did the right thing?'
My response was instant. 'I think it’s one of the few right things I've ever done.'
'Me too. I have been lost for many years . . . but on that day I felt like I had found myself again . . .'
I looked at her, surprised at the sudden insight into the ex-Guardsman’s feelings. Yulia was so good at hiding her innermost thoughts that a man could be forgiven for thinking she wasn’t even human, but when she revealed them it was almost like a glimpse of the sun through the clouds.
'I hate the Union for what they did to us,' Yulia said, her eyes burning into mine. 'But I find that I cannot hate you.’
It was then that Wildgoose emerged from one of the rooms, holding his sniper rifle whilst tugging his gel armour into position with his free arm. He strode over to us both.
‘That’s you relieved, mate,’ he told me groggily, having only just woken up.
Taking her cue to go, Yulia stood, her face hardened back into the familiar emotionless mask that I had grown used to. ‘Make sure you get some rest, Andy,’ she said, offering a hand. ‘I wish you and all your men good luck.’
I stood and shook her hand. ‘Take care, Yulia.’
With that, she gave me a single, respectful nod, and then spun and walked away toward her room, not looking back. I watched her go, feeling a pang of sadness as I wondered if this was the last time I would ever see our unlikely ally. Despite our differences, as well as the occasional hostility between us, I had often appreciated her company. Now, like everyone else I had ever allowed myself to grow close to, she was gone.
‘I could have done with a few more hours, then,’ Wildgoose said with a yawn, placing his rifle beside me, where Yulia had been sat.
‘You’ll have a few more hours yet,’ I assured him.
‘That’s what I like to hear!’ the sniper said with a grin.
I looked at Wildgoose quizzically, wondering how he managed to maintain his morale under such dire circumstances. Although he was hardly the platoon joker, the tall sniper never seemed to lose his enthusiasm. Perhaps his role somehow desensitised him to death, I guessed, or perhaps it was that indifference that helped in his selection in the first place. Either way, I envied his apparent cheerfulness.
Wildgoose flicked his head toward the washroom. ‘Have you used that shower yet?’
‘Not yet,’ I admitted.
‘You have no idea what you’re missing, mate. There’s loads of towels left in there, so you’ve got no excuse. Trust me, you won’t regret it!’
Taking Wildgoose’s advice, I returned to my room and stripped off to my underwear. Taking only my rifle with me, I padded barefoot into the washroom, finding the shower tucked into a corner beside a small toilet and sink. It was unclear why a shower was located within a building that had no purpose other than to store equipment, but I wasn’t going to complain. Steam still drifted through the air, feeling warm against my skin.
I turned on the shower, allowing the water to run for a few seconds before stepping under. Wildgoose had been right, the feeling of hot water running across my tired muscles was wonderful. I don’t know how long I stood there, imagining that the water could wash away all my woes.
Finally, I dried off, wrapped my towel around my waist, picked up my rifle and then made my way back to my room.
Wildgoose’s head lifted from his perch amongst the stacks of equipment. ‘Pure morale, right?’
‘Well worth it,’ I agreed with a forced smile.
‘Told you, didn’t I?’
Closing the door to my room behind me, I placed my rifle down beside my thermal bag and then stared down at the rest of my kit, trying to think of any remaining tasks to perform. There really was nothing else to do except dry myself off, put my dirty underwear back on, and then attempt to go back to sleep. I felt as though I was rooted to the spot, though, unable to move. It was as though my body had decided it no longer wanted to move. What was the point? Eventually I sat down on my daysack and put my head in my hands.
I don’t know how long it took before I found the strength to stand up and begin to towel myself off, but when I did there was a gentle knock at the door, the sound abruptly ending my melancholy. It was obviously Wildgoose, coming to confirm something I had failed to mention during our sentry changeover. I was so tired it was inevitable that I would have missed some important piece of information.
‘Yeah, come in,’ I said.
The door slowly swung open, but it wasn’t Wildgoose who stepped through, it was Yulia. My mouth fell open as she gently pushed the door closed and turned to face me. Her eyes flitted across my body.
Suddenly aware that I was naked, I snatched my towel up to cover myself. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know it was you,’ I said automatically, my cheeks reddening with embarrassment.
‘You don’t need to be sorry,’ she said.
‘I thought you were leaving?’
‘I am,’ she replied. ‘But I remembered that I never thanked you for saving my life.’
‘You don’t need to thank me.’
Without warning, Yulia approached me, only stopping when she was less than a few centimetres away. She was so close that I felt her chest press gently against mine, and the soft caress of her breath against my neck. Gazing deeply into my eyes, she flashed me a brilliant smile. It was the same smile I had seen once before, in the aftermath of our battle to save the people of Dakar.
‘I know I do not need to,’ she said, almost in a whisper. ‘I want to.’
She tugged at the towel, and I let go, allowing it to fall to the floor.
It was raining when we left Copehill that evening. The heavy rain hissed as it struck the ground, forming small streams that flowed along the road that led out from the crater. The sound was broken only by the distant thumping of the ongoing orbital bombardment, causing the dark clouds above us to flicker and reminding us that the war still raged around us. Once we reached the surface, I turned to take one last look into the crater below, where the lights of the old laboratory glowed warmly. As inviting as it appeared, there was nothing there for me now.
Yulia was gone when Myers came to wake me an hour earlier, which was probably for the best. It would have been pretty awkward saying goodbye to her again, especially with my section then knowing that we had been together. What surprised me, though, was that I had slept untroubled for several hours - a rare blessing for me. Perhaps it was her company that helped me sleep. Perhaps it was the woman’s touch. Either way, my body and mind were recharged . . . but my soul wasn’t.
As I turned back to the forest I realised nothing could reverse the damage that had been done to me anymore, not even Yulia. All I yearned for now was revenge. I wanted to deliver punishment. Punishment for Helstrom and Bhasin, perhaps even punishment to myself. Like the claws of some beast pulling me back into the underworld, the dark branches of the forest embraced me once again.
We reached the platoon harbour just after midnight, identifying ourselves to the sentries before returning to our positions on one side of the triangular formation. Everyone was asleep unless they were on sentry, with atmospheric tents dotted about the harbour, just visible above the undergrowth. I noticed that both the other two sections were in the harbour as well, which was odd since I had expected at least one of them to be out on a separate mission. We needed to maximise our footprint on the ground if we ever wanted to deliver an impact in our ops box.
Pe
rhaps the sergeant major had allowed them to take some additional rest, I supposed.
Leaving Puppy to organise the men, I made my way to the centre of the harbour, finding the sergeant major and his signaller close together in their atmospheric tents. The platoon’s last remaining tight beam was assembled between the two tents, silently scanning the skies as it maintained a link with the warships above us. As I approached I saw that the sergeant major’s signaller was sat up inside his tent, presumably awake to monitor the tight beam whilst his commander slept. He heard my boots squelch in the mud and looked up.
‘Alright, mate?’ he whispered gently.
‘Yeah,’ I replied without enthusiasm. ‘Just reporting in.’
The signaller flicked his head toward the sergeant major’s tent. ‘He told me you should wake him when you get in.’
‘No worries.’ I stepped over to the sergeant major’s tent and gave it a gentle shake, causing him to stir inside his thermal bag.
The sergeant major lifted his head and peered in my direction. ‘Ah, Corporal Moralee,’ he said quietly. ‘I was wondering what time you’d get back. Your rendezvous with Yulia appears to have been successful, I see . . .’
My brow raised. ‘What do you mean?’
‘We’ve received an . . . interesting message relayed from orbit, sent by a Special Forces call sign working somewhere in the area. That was then followed by another interesting message from EJOC, confirming the message but with far less detail . . .’
‘So you know about Butch?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah. Great news. But that wasn’t what made the whole thing interesting. It seems we’re being released from our ops box to take part in an operation further north.’
‘Trondheim barracks?’ I guessed with some certainty. Somehow I knew the answer, as if it was fate.
‘Correct. We’re attacking it in a day’s time.’
My heart leapt as I realised I had been provided another opportunity to finish what we had started, but I couldn’t think of what to say in response. Aleksi had said that his job was all about influence, but I had no idea quite how influential he really was. Within hours of our conversation, he had organised an attack against Helstrom’s base, and managed to get us to join in.
RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5) Page 24