RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5)

by Phillip Richards

  ‘One-One,’ I acknowledged, then turned to Myers. ‘Let’s get back down.’

  Myers indicated toward the firing ports. ‘We could use these when the smoke clears?’ he suggested.

  I shook my head. ‘No, mate. This thing’s a dart magnet. The other sangars will cut us to ribbons. Come on, let’s go.’

  ‘What are we gonna do now?’

  I regarded the young trooper gravely. ‘Prepare to defend ourselves.’

  14

  Compound Defence

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  ‘Mouse hole!’ somebody shouted in warning. ‘Take cover!’

  The compound was lit as though it was day when the first of Two Section’s mouse hole charges detonated, just as Myers and I returned to the sangar airlock. Dust and masonry scattered across the courtyard as it blasted a small hole through the northern compound wall and into Trondheim itself.

  ‘And again!’ the same voice warned, just before a second mouse hole exploded on the wall beside where our ladder had been, creating a safer entrance to get the remainder of the platoon inside.

  The sangar compound had become a scene of organised chaos as troopers scurried along its walls to prepare more charges. We needed to establish ourselves as rapidly as possible, since we had no idea what was going on outside the compound. The remaining sangar guns were still firing, causing the air to roar as the torrent of darts passed nearby. The guns didn’t appear to be firing at us yet, but an army of Militia might be about to burst through the metal entrance door on the northern wall for all we knew. If that happened, then we were likely to be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.

  The sergeant major swept through the swirling dust like a demon stalking through the underworld, chopping with his hand as he indicated toward the first of the two holes. ‘Get a man in there now! I want arcs into the barracks!’

  Corporal Kamara quickly drove his remaining mammoth gunner into the smouldering hole, whilst two of his men began preparing another charge nearby.

  ‘Five metres!’ the sergeant major bellowed at the two men as they hurried away from their device. ‘You only need to be five metres away as long as you’re not behind it!’

  The two troopers skidded to a halt, then crouched where they were and lowered their heads to protect their visors.

  ‘Mouse hole!’ one of them shouted.

  They fired the charge, blasting another man-sized hole into the wall and engulfing themselves in the resulting dust cloud.

  ‘Let’s go, Two Section!’ The sergeant major gestured toward the new hole. ‘Get another man in there!’

  Just as Corporal Kamara sent a second man toward the fresh hole, his mammoth gunner opened fire with a long burst, strafing into the darkened barracks beyond.

  ‘Contact!’ the trooper cried out over the scream of magnets. ‘Multiple enemy dismounts!’

  That marked the end of our ruse to the east. After all the grenades and mouse hole charges we had used during our seizure of the sangar, there was no doubting the true direction of our assault. I knew that the Militia’s efforts would have shifted to preventing the breech in their defensive perimeter, and so would the sights of their automated guns.

  Sensing the need to regroup, I activated the section net and then scanned the courtyard, spotting the resulting crosshairs that marked the remainder of my section. All three of them were inside the nearby outbuilding, helping Puppy to complete the clearance of the sangar compound.

  ‘Follow me!’ I ordered Myers.

  Ignoring the firefight that was intensifying along the northern wall, we ran toward the outbuilding. Whilst we hurried across the courtyard, blinding light flashed to my left as two more charges exploded on the western wall. Two Section were busy increasing the number of available fire positions so that they could defend the compound, and each fresh hole was quickly occupied by another trooper. Nobody was going to use the large metal door as a fire position, since it offered far less protection.

  Just as I reached the outbuilding airlock, Puppy emerged in the entrance. ‘Building clear,’ he reported. ‘No enemy. It’s just a small accommodation block for sentries to sleep in.’

  ‘Roger,’ I replied, then ushered Myers inside. There was no sense in keeping all of my men out in the courtyard. Supposedly the Bosker army massing behind us were equipped with their own automated guns to counter the threat from enemy missiles and guided grenades, but I still didn’t fancy risking my men in the open.

  Flicking to the platoon net, I notified the sergeant major that our clearance of the sangar compound was complete. Though he was within earshot, the message was better sent over the net so that everybody could hear it.

  The sergeant major was located near to Two Section’s mammoth gunner, who continued to fire through the hole on the northern wall. He answered without turning his head from the ensuing battle. ‘One-Zero, roger. Keep your men inside the outbuilding until called for. One-Zero-Bravo and One-Three will occupy the lower half of the sangar once they reach the compound. One-Zero-Bravo, acknowledge.’

  ‘One-Zero-Bravo!’ Abs panted his acknowledgement. I saw that he was already through the hole that had been blasted beside our ladder, and was now ushering Three Section through to the compound. Being the last of the three sections to cross the open ground, they must have been relieved to have made it in one piece.

  I tucked myself into the airlock entrance, then Puppy and I watched as Two Section took over the battle, transforming the compound into a small fortress.

  Corporal Kamara had created five holes around the compound wall, two on the north, two on the west, and a single hole to the south that Three Section were using to enter. Each of the four holes facing into Trondheim were manned, and the two facing north were both firing at an unseen enemy. Having established fire positions for his section, Corporal Kamara was leaning over his mammoth gunner, trying to see what his men were shooting at.

  ‘One-Two, this is One-Zero, what have you got?’ the sergeant major demanded over the net.

  Corporal Kamara responded by sending an image to us all, displaying the view he had into the barracks. With a tap on my datapad, I placed the image on my visor display, enabling me to look into Trondheim for the first time.

  Much of the Militia barracks was open space, dotted with small buildings and networked by roads and low, compound walls. The sparse layout provided little cover from the surrounding sangars, giving the towers the ability to mutually support one another in the event of an attack such as ours. Though smoke still drifted across the barracks, it wasn’t as thick as it had been on our route up, so I could see the outline of the north-eastern sangar, and presumably the south-western one as well if the angle of the image allowed it. The north-eastern sangar was still firing into the slave camp, still seemingly convinced that the greater threat came from there. Our ruse had worked perfectly, I noted . . . for now at least.

  At the centre of the barracks were two large, rectangular two-storey buildings that ran side by side, cutting a dark silhouette that obscured the north-western sangar. The gap between the two buildings was bridged by a vast greenhouse to create an outdoor parade ground with no need for respirators. The glass was still intact, glittering as it reflected light from every explosion from the orbital bombardment that continued outside the barracks.

  Groups of figures were running in all directions, taking up positions across Trondheim as the Militia prepared to defend themselves. I noted a large party of almost twenty men hurrying toward the north-eastern sangar, and a smaller group taking up fire positions along a wall less than a hundred metres away from us. Presumably the Militia were attempting to bolster their sangars, but the group headed toward us had been caught in the open by Two Section’s mammoth. I had no doubt that there were multiple bodies hidden behind the wall, since our Two Section’s mammoth was unlikely to miss at such short ranges.

  ‘The Militia are trying to cross from the main buildings to the sangars,’ Corporal Kamara said, summarising the image. ‘It looks like they’re
standing to!’

  ‘How many Militiamen, One-Two?’ the sergeant major asked.

  ‘About a section per sangar, maybe more! We’ve got the group that were headed for us pinned behind a wall!’

  ‘Good! Remember, as far as we’re concerned there are no friendlies within that camp. I want utter chaos in there until the Boskers show up, so kill anything that moves! One-Four, send update!’

  ‘One-Four,’ Wildgoose acknowledged with contrasting calmness, though I could tell that his breathing was laboured from having to crawl and dash from cover to cover. I imagined his small team slowly creeping across the battlefield in their ragged disguises, weaving through the smoking craters in search of more targets. ‘We’re moving around to engage the north-eastern sangar. The ground here is pretty low, so it should enable the next wave to approach in cover from the two western sangars.’

  ‘Understood,’ the sergeant major replied. ‘Poltergeist-One, this is Blackjack-One-Zero, acknowledge the last message from One-Four.’

  Aleksi answered seconds after, using his Einsatzgruppe-19 call sign. ‘Poltergeist-One, roger. I’m ready with the main assault force at the FUP. Let me know when you want the Boskers to come through and I’ll release them. If your One-Four call sign has a preferred approach route, then have him mark it on the net so I can forward it to the Boskers.’

  ‘One-Zero, roger. One-Four, acknowledge.’

  ‘One-Four,’ Wildgoose acknowledged.

  ‘How long until you’re in position to engage the north-eastern sangar?’

  Wildgoose’s reply was immediate. ‘One minute.’

  We could afford to wait a minute before calling for Aleksi’s Bosker army, I thought. And assuming that Wildgoose and his sniper team were successful, we would create a safe route through which they could pour into Trondheim, unopposed by the automated defence system.

  Suddenly there was a tremendous roar as something battered against the western wall, causing Puppy and I to collapse to the floor instinctively. Both of the two troopers that had been covering through the holes to the west were instantly consumed by dust.

  I knew straight away that the noise was that of the western sangar gun switching its fire onto the compound wall. The sheer power of thousands of oversized, magnetised darts chipped away great chunks of masonry, sending one of the two troopers ducking for cover, and the other sprawling to the ground.

  My visor flashed yellow over the fallen trooper, and my heart leapt.

  ‘Man down!’ Puppy shouted, seeing the same warning on his own visor.

  We didn’t wait for the sergeant major’s orders. Whilst he and several other troopers ducked for cover, Puppy and I sprinted out from the relative safety of the airlock, hurrying to the aid of our comrade.

  Stray darts were striking the ground just inside the hole where the casualty had been hit, flicking soil across the courtyard. The immense overpressure caused my body to vibrate, and I had to use all my willpower not to back away from the onslaught.

  The trooper was dead. I knew it the second Puppy and I grabbed him by his daysack straps, ready to drag him away. The dart that had struck him had punched a hole right through him, turning his chest into a pink and red pulp.

  We dragged him back anyway, leaving a gory trail as we pulled him unceremoniously through the muddy courtyard, all the way into the outbuilding.

  ‘He’s dead,’ Puppy told the rest of my section as they came to help us drag the trooper through the airlock.

  Curses echoed through the darkened rooms of the outbuilding as everyone saw the horrific injury sustained by our stricken comrade. There was nothing more awful than seeing a fellow trooper suddenly turned into a bloody mess, whether you knew him as a friend or not.

  ‘Strip his kit,’ I ordered, with a coldness that surprised even me. ‘Ammo, water, everything.’

  My men obeyed, and I turned back to the battle outside whilst they raided the dead man’s kit for anything of value. He no longer had any need for grenades or explosives anymore, so I doubted that he would mind.

  As I returned to the outbuilding entrance, I saw that everybody had scattered from the courtyard, leaving only Corporal Kamara and what remained of his section covering through the holes to the north.

  The sergeant major was taking cover behind the sangar base, looking intently in my direction. I waved my hand in a cutting motion across my throat, indicating that the casualty was dead. He nodded, then passed the message back to Abs inside the sangar.

  The automated guns continued to hammer the western wall, suggesting an alteration in the defender’s priorities. Unable to match the terrifying power of the robotic guns, Corporal Kamara could only stand back and watch.

  ‘I can’t defend that wall!’ he shouted in alarm, pointing at the two holes that were now dreadfully exposed.

  ‘Fucking hell!’ Puppy exclaimed, having joined me at the airlock. ‘We’re in trouble.’

  ‘No shit . . .’ I agreed grimly.

  Like Puppy, I could already see the threat posed by the loss of cover out to the west. Using the automated guns to keep us from observing in that direction, the Militia could approach unopposed and then use the same holes that we had created to gain access to the sangar compound.

  ‘All call signs, anticipate an assault from the west!’ the sergeant major warned. ‘One-Two, you are to maintain eyes out into the open ground to the north. One-Zero-Bravo, you are to take One-Three back outside the sangar compound to prevent the enemy hooking around the back. One-One, you are to provide a block against any enemy attempting to break through the western wall. The main effort is to prevent that breech. If the enemy get in, then its game over. All call signs acknowledge.’

  ‘One-One,’ I answered.

  ‘One-Two.’

  ‘One-Three.’ Stan’s section was already running toward the hole that they had entered through a few minutes before, along with Abs.

  I looked back into the outbuilding. ‘Let’s go, lads!’

  I quickly organised my section to form a stand-off defence of the western wall, placing Myers in the outbuilding airlock, Weatherall at the corner of the sangar base, and Leaman on the north-western corner of the compound, facing back toward the two holes where Corporal Kamara’s men had been. I couldn’t place my men right beside the holes themselves, not just because of the sangar guns but also because an attacking force was likely to throw a grenade through there.

  ‘We’re sitting ducks . . .’ Puppy sounded nervous as the two of us surveyed our defences from the edge of the outbuilding. ‘The Militia could already be against that wall.’

  ‘Get some fucking grenades over there, then!’ Corporal Kamara snapped impatiently, having heard us. With that, he lifted his rifle and prepared his grenade launcher to fire.

  I held out a hand. ‘Wait!’

  Too late. Corporal Kamara fired a string of grenades into the air, hoping that they would identify the approaching Militia. Less than a second after the tiny guided missiles cleared the top of the wall they detonated prematurely, causing us all to duck under a hail of shrapnel.

  ‘Fucking hell!’ I exclaimed as I struggled back to my feet.

  Corporal Kamara cursed himself, having realised his error.

  The automated guns had destroyed the grenades before they even left the compound, effectively removing our ability to use indirect weaponry against the Militia. Fortunately, none of us were injured, since the grenades were far away enough not to be lethal against our gel armour and helmets.

  Corporal Kamara was right about one thing, though, grenades were an effective way to deny the enemy the ability to form up on the other side of the wall.

  ‘Leaman!’ I shouted.

  The trooper looked from his position at the corner of the compound, and I signalled grenade with a closed fist, and then gestured with a swooping hand for him to throw it over the wall. Unlike our rifle grenades, a hand-thrown grenade had no thermal signature and was far more difficult to hit, even with the firepower of the automated g
uns.

  Leaman nodded. He quickly prepared one of his HE grenades, stood back from the wall and then threw it over.

  ‘Get grenades going over that wall every thirty seconds or so!’ I ordered Puppy as the grenade detonated outside the compound. ‘That might put them off!’

  My 2ic nodded. ‘Roger!’

  I turned toward the hole that led back out of the compound, to where Three Section and Abs were setting up our flank protection.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Puppy asked.

  ‘To get our ladder!’

  As I ducked through the mouse hole to recover the ladder, Wildgoose spoke up over the net, simultaneously dropping a series of blue crosshairs that marked a route for the Boskers to follow. ‘One-Zero, this is One-Four. That’s the north-eastern gun destroyed. We’re now suppressing enemy attempting to occupy the sangar compound. The new route to your location is marked.’

  ‘One-Zero, roger,’ the sergeant major responded. ‘Poltergeist, send them in!’

  ‘Poltergeist-One, message received. They’re on their way!’

  ‘One-Four, this is One- Zero, do you think you can get into position to engage the south-western sangar gun?’ the sergeant major then asked.

  ‘One-Four . . .’ Wildgoose seemed to hesitate. ‘It would be difficult . . .’

  ‘One-Zero, I understand it will be difficult, but we’re being fixed in position by that gun. I need it destroyed, otherwise our defence here will be near impossible.’

  There was a pause of several seconds, whilst Wildgoose thought of how to deal with the problem. I had no doubt that moving across such a heavily contested battlefield without being spotted was far from easy, both mentally and physically. Of course there was no question that he would drop everything to help us. He might be busy engaging the Militia in the north-eastern sangar, but it would all be a waste of time if his platoon was wiped out.