RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5)

by Phillip Richards

  I never heard Wildgoose fire, but after a few seconds the gun stopped abruptly, leaving the remains of the jacket to hang in tatters on the end of our ladder.

  ‘That’s the south-western sangar gun destroyed,’ Wildgoose announced with a trace of smugness. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he was enjoying himself.

  ‘Well done, One-Four!’ the sergeant major replied, his relief evident. His head snapped across to me. ‘Get men in those mouse holes now! I want eyes out!’

  I didn’t need to parrot the order, for Myers had already abandoned his position beside the sangar and was hurrying toward the closer of the two mouse holes, having heard the sergeant major’s praise to Wildgoose. Less than a second later he opened fire. Finally able to engage freely with his guided grenades, Corporal Kamara fired several of them above the wall and watched as they flew across the barracks toward the nearest target. Three Section simultaneously fired smart missiles toward the stricken sangar, destroying the tower itself in order to deny it to any remaining Militiamen.

  Weatherall then surprised me as he occupied the second mouse hole, carrying Leaman’s mammoth instead of his own rifle. He still flashed yellow on my visor display, but I wasn’t going to send him back to the outbuilding when I needed all the manpower I could get.

  I moved up behind Myers and took a look over his shoulder. He and Weatherall were both firing at tens of Militiamen scattered across the barracks, cutting them down amid the sparks of stray rounds striking the ground around them. There was no sign of any co-ordinated attacks, but rather a scene of panic as our enemy saw that the tide had turned against them. Without the sangar guns in support, they were caught out in the open by a far more capable opponent, with a horde of Boskers rapidly bearing down upon them.

  I spotted a section of Militiamen running toward the glass structure between the barrack buildings, and jutted a finger in their direction.

  ‘Use a smart missile!’ I ordered. ‘Take that roof down!’

  ‘Roger!’ Myers quickly prepared his launcher, then pointed it through the mouse hole. ‘Glass roof! Distance . . . two hundred metres! Stay low to avoid sangar to north-west!’

  The launcher beeped in acknowledgement.

  ‘Back blast!’ I shouted, checking over my shoulder to make sure nobody was behind the launcher when he fired.

  With a mighty explosion Myers fired his launcher, sending the missile screaming toward the glass roof. By the time I leant through to see for myself the missile had detonated just above the glass structure, blasting it to smithereens and sending a thousand glittering fragments hurtling to the ground like a shower of knives, slicing through anyone unfortunate enough to be beneath it.

  ‘Good work, Corporal Moralee!’ the sergeant major said from behind me, patting my daysack in a rare display of approval before switching to the net. ‘All call signs, the main effort is now to fix the enemy within the barrack buildings in order to allow the Bosker echelon to make their break-in. One-Four, I want you to deny freedom of movement across the open ground, whilst the remaining call signs are to focus their fire onto the buildings themselves. One-Four, acknowledge.’

  ‘One-Four, roger,’ Wildgoose replied. ‘My call sign is now split across the southern and eastern edge of the barracks.’

  ‘One-Zero, that’s fine. Just be wary of the Boskers coming through.’

  ‘Yeah, roger.’ Wildgoose chuckled. ‘We’ve seen them. One of them already tried to shoot us . . .’

  There was an amusing story behind Wildgoose’s chuckle, I had no doubt. I imagined the surprise of the Bosker that tried to shoot one of the sniper group, only to discover that his rifle didn’t work. Unbeknownst to them, the Boskers couldn’t shoot any of us, not as long as their weapons remained synced to the visors Alexi had provided them. They could pull the trigger, but the visor refused to let the rifle fire so long as its barrel pointed toward Union personnel. It was a final protection measure against insider attacks, one which had just now proven itself invaluable.

  Suddenly a fresh barrage erupted to the north, somewhere outside the compound. None of the gunfire appeared to be directed at us, and I quickly realised that it wasn’t a fresh Militia charge, but the Boskers finally beginning their assault.

  ‘The Boskers are inside the wire!’ Corporal Kamara confirmed whilst peering through his section mouse holes.

  Several troopers cheered, and others pumped their fists in jubilation as they saw the Boskers take over the battle, sweeping over Trondheim’s perimeter like an ancient horde and screaming their battle cries as they went.

  ‘Thank fuck for that . . .’ somebody breathed.

  I looked around and saw that it was the sergeant major who had spoken, perhaps forgetting that our headsets would magnify his voice.

  It was then that I noticed how much blood was smeared over my visor. I attempted to wipe it away with my sleeve, but then found that only made it worse . . . my sleeve was soaked in it.

  A familiar Scandinavian accent sounded on the net. ‘One-Zero, this is Poltergeist-One. I am currently with the main Bosker force. They are assaulting the north-eastern sangar as well as the barrack complex itself. The north-western sangar doesn’t appear to be an issue from where you are either, so I suggest that you take advantage of the lull and re-organise yourselves.’

  I could see the hidden meaning within Aleksi’s message. Don’t get too comfortable. Though we had effectively completed our mission, we were far from relieved from combat. EJOC had placed our platoon under Aleksi’s command, and his mission was to capture Trondheim, rather than capture a single sangar. He would undoubtedly call on us again, and we were already anticipating some form of involvement in clearing the buildings themselves. I wasn’t just anticipating it, I was banking on it. I wanted Bhasin, and I wanted Helstrom.

  ‘One-Zero, roger.’ The sergeant major acknowledged Aleksi’s instruction. ‘Be aware, I have at least two casualties on my position, both priority three, and one dead trooper.’

  Aleksi replied quickly. ‘Understood. We can keep priority threes on the ground for a while. Be assured that I have the means to conduct the extraction, but I don’t want to show my cards until the last safe moment. Let me know the second their condition changes.’

  The sergeant major and I exchanged wary glances. We were both well aware of the constraints placed upon the casualty evacuation chain, particularly Aleksi’s unwillingness to share knowledge as to how that chain actually worked. Myers had been right in the FUP, I realised. Though Aleksi was clearly on our side, it was becoming unnerving to work for someone from such a shady organisation. I wondered how serious a casualty needed to be before he would “show his cards”.

  ‘One-Zero,’ the sergeant major agreed after several seconds, sharing my unease.

  Right on cue, Abs emerged through the mouse hole at the rear of the compound. ‘2ics, time to earn your money!’ he shouted. ‘I want a full ammo-casualty state from each of you, now!’

  Puppy was already scurrying around the compound, quizzing every trooper on his status. Much of the info he required was readily available to him, but we always physically checked when the opportunity presented itself.

  Deciding to help Puppy while we waited, I moved across to Weatherall and tapped his shoulder. The trooper fired a short burst with his mammoth and then looked at me wild-eyed. ‘They’re all running away!’ he said, his mind still focused onto the battle outside the compound.

  ‘Good,’ I said, looking him over. ‘When did you get hit?’

  Weatherall flicked his head toward the outbuilding. ‘A missile or something exploded over the compound when you were fighting. I think the Militia guns must have shot it before it got too close. I’m fine, though. Just a few scratches.’

  ‘Let me see . . .’ I gestured for him to show me his datapad and then read his vital stats. I knew all too well how a mixture of adrenalin and bravado could cause a man to play down or ignore his injuries.

  Weatherall had been hit by multiple fragment
s, mostly on his limbs where his gel armour was thinner. I inspected each of the wounds visually, making sure his combats had correctly treated the injuries. Sure enough, the materiel was swollen where it had expanded in order to stop the bleeding, but some of the wounds still needed packing with quick clot. He wasn’t about to die, but he needed attention.

  Puppy trotted across from the outbuilding, seeing me attending to Weatherall. ‘How is he?’

  I gave a quick summary of the trooper’s status, highlighting the need for medical attention.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Weatherall insisted. ‘I don’t need to go back.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t look like you’re going back yet anyway.’ I answered. ‘You need those wounds packing, though.’ I looked to Puppy. ‘How’s Leaman?’

  ‘Cut up, mate,’ My 2ic replied gravely, then pointed at the scattered bodies at our feet. ‘He got stabbed through the arm by one of these bell ends. He won’t be any use to us anymore. He’ll live, but he’s nothing more than baggage.’

  I added the numbers together in my head. There were only four men left in my section who were good to fight, including myself, and one of those was fragged as well. I could do with having Wildgoose and Griffiths back, but they were both busy fighting their own battle elsewhere.

  ‘Confirm your ammo, mate?’ Puppy asked me. ‘The net reckons you’re pretty flush for darts?’

  I quickly checked myself over, working out my totals. I hadn’t actually fired that much with my rifle, since my part in the fight mostly involved my bayonet. ‘I’ve used less than half a mag, but I’ve used all my hand grenades and one from my launcher.’

  The section 2ic quickly tapped the figures into his datapad. The net could work out how many darts we had fired, but it wasn’t able to record things like mouse holes and hand grenades.

  ‘What’s the section ammo like?’ I asked him.

  Puppy puffed his cheeks. ‘We’re fine for darts, but all other natures have taken a hit. We’re depleted on mouse holes and guided grenades, and we’re almost out of hand grenades. I’m just about to give our ammo state to Abs.’

  I nodded, knowing that there was no point in asking for specifics. Once Abs had all three section’s ammo states then he would balance our totals, getting us to share everything evenly so that no section was better equipped than the other. Two Section had fired far more mouse hole charges and darts than we had, so they were likely to suck up a large amount of our ammunition. Maintaining that balance was Puppy’s job, so I left him to it.

  I turned to the sergeant major, who now watched the unfolding battle over Myers’ shoulder. ‘What’s the plan now?’

  He regarded me briefly, as if irritated by the interruption to his thoughts. ‘Once the ammo’s balanced, we’ll get in early and cross to the barracks. We can’t all stay bunched up in here, plus I think Aleksi will be asking for us soon anyway . . .’

  Abs approached the sergeant major, then squatted with his back against the wall. He regarded us all. ‘Glad to see you’re alright.’

  ‘You too,’ I answered with feeling. It felt as though our numbers were slowly being whittled down to nothing, just as they had in my old platoon back on New Earth.

  Just then there was an almighty boom, as if something massive had exploded just above our heads. We all ducked instinctively, only realising what it was seconds later. It was a sonic boom, caused by an aircraft passing overhead. We knew that the Union air campaign had begun, but this was the first time we had noticed it.

  ‘There goes the cavalry . . .’ Abs said gloomily.

  Nobody was excited at the arrival of our aircraft. They weren’t going to help us, not directly anyway. They might scare away any Loyalist gravtanks or dropships preparing to counterattack, but they wouldn’t be attacking Trondheim itself. Even when Union troopers eventually broke into the atmosphere, they wouldn’t be interested in us. They would only be interested in seizing key strategic objectives such as the provincial capital, large population centres, as well as warrens and major military installations.

  ‘So what’s the situation, Corporal Abdi?’ the sergeant major asked, leaving the mouse hole and crouching beside Abs.

  Abs consulted his datapad. ‘Ignoring the fire support group, we’ve got One Section down to three blokes, Two on five and Three on six–’

  ‘So we can equalise that if we pull in two from the fire support group?’ the sergeant major interrupted. ‘We could pull in the two from One Section and put them up to five. Six if you include Weatherall, who seems content on carrying on.’

  ‘That would mean bringing in Wildgoose,’ Abs cautioned. ‘He’s in command of the fire support group . . .’

  ‘I know that,’ the sergeant major snapped irritably. ‘They don’t need a commander anymore, since they’re already split over the battlefield. We need to try to maintain some form of unit cohesion as long as we can, rather than mixing the blokes up.’ He looked back at his signaller. ‘Rigden, pass the message for One-Four to split into two sniper pairs and answer up from now on as One-Four-Alpha and One- Four-Bravo independently. The two troopers from One-One are to close in to this location and return to their section.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the signaller replied, moving out of earshot to pass the message whilst we continued our discussion. At the same time Stan and Corporal Kamara arrived, both keen to hear what the sergeant major planned to do now.

  ‘How are we for ammo?’ the sergeant major asked, ignoring the arrival of the other two commanders. Though he had previously reprimanded us for bunching together, sometimes such assemblies were a necessary evil in order to share information on the battlefield.

  Abs paused as another aircraft shot overhead, then looked at his figures. ‘All natures are fine, except for smart missiles, grenades and mouse holes. I’ve got the 2ics sharing them out again now, but we’re looking at no more than two or three grenades per section and one mouse hole each.’

  Those weren’t good figures to hear. Our short siege had chewed through an enormous portion of our explosive munitions. In open ground, such an ammo state would barely present a problem, but in the confines of the barrack buildings the lack of explosives could reduce our advantage significantly.

  The sergeant major simply shrugged. ‘We’ll have to make it work. How soon until we can move?’

  Abs nodded at me. ‘As soon as those two blokes from Andy’s section get in.’

  ‘Good. We will follow the Boskers into the barrack buildings as soon as they secure a decent foothold. Three Section will lead since they’re in the open already, followed by One-One. Two Section will stay back here and maintain a hold on this compound, along with the casualties.’

  Corporal Kamara appeared to bristle slightly, but said nothing.

  ‘Has anyone got any questions?’ the sergeant major asked. He looked directly at Two Section’s commander, having seen his discontent. ‘Any issues?’

  Corporal Kamara identified the challenge, and lowered his head. ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Good.’ The sergeant major picked himself up and stalked away, presumably searching for somewhere to think on his own. Stan was the next to leave, hurrying back to his men outside the compound.

  I glanced at Corporal Kamara. ‘Sorry, mate.’

  The section commander frowned. ‘Why are you sorry?’

  ‘I’m guessing you wanted to go across with Stan?’

  He shook his head. ‘No . . . I wanted to go across with you. There was never any chance that he’d leave you behind, you’re the sergeant major’s top boy!’

  It was my turn to frown. ‘Top boy?’

  ‘He thinks the sun shines out your arse, mate,’ Abs translated with a grin.

  I waved the comment away. ‘Shut up, mate!’

  He laughed. ‘Isn’t it obvious? You’ve had a lead role in near enough everything we’ve done since entering Cellini! There’s no danger of the sergeant major leaving you behind, you’re like his right-hand man!’

  I fell silent, stunned by my comrades’ tak
e on my position within the platoon. I had made so many mistakes since arriving on Eden, it was a wonder that the sergeant major even allowed me to stay within Recce, let alone regarded me highly. My recent incompetence had resulted in the deaths of multiple civilians, and potentially scuppered any hope of rescuing the boss. How could he possibly respect me? What did he see in me that I didn’t?

  Aleksi’s voice snapped me back to reality. ‘One-Zero, this is Poltergeist-One, the Boskers have just made their break in to the nearest of the two barrack buildings! I’m making my way in now!’

  Abs picked himself up with a tired groan, then patted me on the shoulder. ‘Make sure your men are ready to move as soon as Wildgoose and Griffiths get back. Looks like you’ll be back on the move shortly . . .’

  ‘I’ll get my lads to relieve yours on the western wall,’ Corporal Kamara added.

  I nodded. ‘Cheers, Corporal Kamara.’

  ‘No worries. It’s Kam, by the way. Only the boss and the sergeant major call me Corporal! Take care, mate. See you on the other side.’

  15

  The Barracks

  To contents page

  ‘Two section!’ the sergeant major hollered across the darkened compound. ‘Smoke off the approach route to the barracks!’

  The sangar compound erupted with noise as multiple grenade launchers fired, illuminating us with orange light as the guided grenades hurtled across Trondheim, each one instructed to land in the open space between us and the barrack buildings. Exploding to form an instant wall of hot smoke, they created the covered approach route that Stan and his section needed to make their crossing.

  ‘Move now, One-Three!’ the sergeant major ordered on the net.

  Stan’s response was instant. ‘One-Three, moving!’

  A moment after that, I spotted the silhouette of the first man in Stan’s section through one of the two mouse holes on the northern wall. He sprinted through the smoke, swiftly followed by a line of troopers.