The naked man wasn’t moving. I grasped him by the shoulder and pulled him over, seeing his face for the first time. It was the boss, his eyes pained and wide open.
I pressed the respirator onto his face, pushing it down at the sides to make sure it sealed properly. My respirator was made to fit my own face rather than his, so I needed to be sure the seal was correct. The tiny motors whirred loudly as they forced the bad air out.
‘Breathe, boss!’ Wildgoose urged, having just arrived at my side. He shook the platoon commander by the shoulder.
Mr Barkley suddenly took a huge gasp of air, his instinct for survival kicking in as he realised that he was being provided clean air to breathe.
‘Give him this, Andy!’ Aleksi said from behind me, holding out a facemask respirator similar to those that he gave to the Boskers.
I quickly swapped the respirators, and Wildgoose made sure the facemask was correctly positioned on our platoon commander’s face whilst I returned my own respirator to my face.
Mr Barkley continued to breathe in large gasps, as his lungs fought to re-oxygenate his body and his circulatory system battled with the toxins he had already inhaled. He blinked at us, looking bewildered.
‘Aleksi!’ I called. ‘Have you got antidote on your saucer?’
‘Yes, I have!’
‘Get him up!’ I ordered, and we reached under our platoon commander’s armpits, lifting him up onto his feet. ‘Aleksi, grab my helmet, please!’
‘I’ve got it!’
‘We’ve got you, boss, we’ve got you.’ Wildgoose soothed.
We half-carried, half-dragged him across the sand toward the saucer, led by Aleksi who seemed to know exactly where it was.
Once we had him inside the saucer and administered antidote to counter the toxins in Mr Barkley’s blood, it quickly became apparent that our platoon commander’s captivity had been brutal. He was covered in bruises and cuts, and his body was caked in dried blood. God only knew what they had done to him. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Whilst I replaced my helmet and Yulia looked on, Wildgoose threw off the trench coat he had been given for the assault onto Trondheim. He wrapped it around Mr Barkley, and then gently sat him down on one of the seats and buckled him in. Griffiths and I then removed our coats and laid them across his lap like blankets. He was shaking violently, which I presumed was a mixture of shock and exposure, but his breathing had begun to return to normal.
‘Nice deep breaths, boss,’ I said, taking a seat beside him and strapping myself in. ‘Everything’s alright. You’re with us, now.’
When the boss finally spoke, he was shivering so hard that his words were almost unintelligible. ‘Who . . . who a-are y-you?’
I realised that he probably couldn’t see me in the dark, since he wasn’t wearing a visor. ‘It’s me, boss. Corporal Moralee. I’m with Wildgoose and Griffiths.’
The compartment walls became invisible once more and the saucer lifted, heading back up toward the clouds so that we could look down upon the chemical plant once again.
‘How . . . d-did you . . . f-find me?’ Mr Barkley asked, so quietly my headset had to amplify his words.
‘It’s a long story,’ I said, before changing the subject. ‘Are you OK?’
In our rush we hadn’t inspected the severity of his injuries. The main thing was that he was conscious and breathing. Anything else could hopefully wait until we brought him back to Paraiso.
‘I think so,’ he said weakly.
‘Where are the others?’
Without warning, Mr Barkley began to cry. His shoulders hunched and he lowered his head like he was trying to curl into a ball, letting out long anguished sobs that tore at my heart. I didn’t need to ask anymore. The rest of his team were dead.
‘Poltergeist-One, this is Hammersmith-Zero-Alpha.’ The OC’s voice cut through the crying. ‘Our visibility is pretty poor from this far out, but we can see what appears to be a small group of figures moving out from the chemical plant and into the marsh.’
I exchanged glances with Aleksi.
‘They used your platoon commander as a distraction,’ the Scandinavian deduced. He peered down at the marshland, trying to spot the figures. ‘Hammersmith-Zero-Alpha, send mark?’
A blue crosshair promptly appeared a short distance away from the chemical plant. Sure enough there was a small group of figures, about a section of them, hurrying across the marshland. Once again, Aleksi created a magnifying glass around them, zooming in so that we could watch them making their escape. They weren’t in any kind of formation, they were simply running for their lives, stumbling through thick reeds and waist-deep pools of water. They were all wearing Guard uniform.
‘I’ll bet you one of them is Bhasin,’ Griffiths said. ‘Let’s get them.’
I looked at Aleksi. ‘Can we re-task Louis?’
Aleksi didn’t respond. Instead he stared into space, as if preoccupied by something else. I realised that he was receiving a message that I wasn’t privy to, and was listening to it intently.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked after a moment.
‘We can’t wait for Louis,’ Aleksi decided, then flicked to the net. ‘Hammersmith-Zero-Alpha, I have reports of aircraft inbound from the south, possibly a Guard dropship coming to extract the survivors. I want you to engage the figures now.’
‘Hammersmith-Zero-Alpha, roger. Firing now.’
Seconds later, the ground around the Guardsmen erupted, as a torrent of Vulcan rounds hailed down upon them.
‘Fuck you!’ Griffiths taunted, as the Guardsmen collapsed to the ground under the withering barrage.
‘That will do, Hammersmith-Zero-Alpha!’ Aleksi instructed. ‘From now on do not engage under any circumstances unless I specifically give the order. I’m going to move in to take a look.’ He pointed to where the figures now lay. ‘Saucer, take us down to that location.’
The saucer obeyed, and we swooped down toward the marsh, finally coming in to hover less than ten metres from the fallen escapees.
Aleksi suddenly chuckled to himself. ‘I’ve just been told the aircraft has turned around,’ he said, noticing our curious glances. ‘I guess they decided Bhasin isn’t worth the trouble. Shall we get out and take a look?’
I nodded.
On Aleksi’s order, the saucer hovered lower, its ramp coming down to touch the ground.
‘Someone will have to stay with the boss,’ I said as we removed our straps.
There was a moment’s silence. Everybody wanted to be there to see Bhasin dead, but somebody needed to stay with our platoon commander. He had stopped crying, and had now resorted to rocking himself gently as if trying to comfort himself.
‘I’ll stay,’ Wildgoose said reluctantly.
‘Cheers, mate.’ I said, knowing that the section sniper would rather come with us if he had the chance.
‘Kill him,’ the boss uttered quietly as I stood. He looked up at me, fixing me with glistening red eyes. ‘You make sure that bastard is dead!’
My jaw clenched, but I said nothing as I brushed past him to exit the saucer. All of us, including Yulia, carefully made our way down the ramp, weapons raised as we stepped out onto the watery marsh.
Aleksi grasped my arm, stopping me from moving away from the ramp. ‘If we stay close to the aircraft then we remain within its field. It gives us a second to look around before we reveal ourselves.’
‘So I’m still invisible right now?’ I asked.
‘No, you’re never fully invisible.’ He swept an arm across the marsh. ‘But this lot will be in such a state that they’ll never notice us, not if they’re alive, anyway.’
‘Well, what’s the plan?’
‘If you three spread out and search for the bodies, I’ll come with you and start taking images and biometrics for our intelligence cell. I’m sure they’ll want to know who was involved in this.’
We waded through the water toward the crosshair left by the OC, spreading out to cover as much ground as po
ssible.
It didn’t take long before I spotted the first body, or at least half of it. Everything above the stomach was missing, leaving charred organs to spill out into the murky water.
I dropped a crosshair on the body. ‘There’s one.’
Another crosshair appeared nearby, created by Griffiths. ‘And another.’
We slowly found more and more bodies as we advanced through the reeds, all of whom had met a grisly end, until I had counted six. After that, there didn’t appear to be any more of them, and after twenty metres I came to a halt.
‘That must be it,’ Griffiths said. ‘Bhasin must be one of the bodies back there.’
I stared out into the dark expanse of reeds, listening to the wind brushing against them. ‘No. There was more than six . . .’
For a moment, none of us made a sound. I knew what would happen if we did nothing. Any of the survivors would slowly creep away from us, hoping to disappear into the marsh.
I licked my lips. ‘Griffiths.’ I said quietly on the section net. ‘On my order, fire a burst into the marsh.’
‘Roger.’
‘Fire!’
Griffiths opened fire with his mammoth, the powerful weapon letting out a mighty roar as it sprayed the marsh with darts.
I raised my voice, shouting out so all could hear. ‘I’ve spotted them! In the reeds! One-Two, assault from the right flank!’
It didn’t matter that there wasn’t anybody on our right flank. Already spooked by the mysterious appearance of Louis’ team within the chemical plant, three surviving Guardsmen broke from their hiding places and ran.
Yulia snapped up her rifle, tracking one of the fleeing Guardsmen before firing, snatching him down to the ground. The other two turned and fired, their darts cracking overhead and forcing me to duck.
‘Griffiths, keep suppressing! Yulia, we’ll bound forward! I’ll move first!’
‘OK, Andy! I will cover you!’
I bounded forward, splashing through the water whilst keeping my head as low as I could. Once I stopped, I remained half-crouched but on my feet, scanning with my rifle as I tried to spot the Guardsmen amongst the reeds.
My headset cut out the sound from Griffith’s mammoth, instead magnifying a nearby sound, that of something gently sloshing in the water less than ten metres away.
With a downward wave of my hand I stopped Yulia, and then slowly edged through the water, rifle raised.
My visor display flashed red, marking a Guardsman attempting to crawl away through the water on his hands and knees. Realising that he had been spotted, the Guardsman shouted something and attempted to swing his rifle around, but too late. I shot him twice through the chest, sending him sprawling backward. He splashed into the water, then bobbed lifelessly.
Suddenly there was another burst of enemy fire, forcing me to duck again. This time it was directed toward Yulia, and as I watched in horror, one of the rounds struck her, knocking her down to the ground.
‘Yulia!’ I cried out.
My anger rapidly mutated into sheer rage. With my lips curling into a vengeful snarl, I switched to automatic, spraying the marsh with steel.
‘Die, you fucking belter!’ I bellowed, my rifle vibrating in my arms as I emptied the entire magazine. When it ran out of darts I then switched to my grenade launcher, firing my remaining two high-explosive grenades into the reeds. Somebody screamed in pain when they detonated, and then there was silence.
I looked back to where Yulia had fallen.
Not her as well, my mind pleaded as my eyes searched for her in the reeds. Not after all we’ve been through!
‘Yulia! Are you OK?’
‘I am fine, Andy!’ She replied from somewhere out of sight. ‘It is a flesh wound - not serious!’
I glanced up to the heavens in thanks for just a moment, and then my eyes narrowed as I looked to where the enemy darts had come from. The painful scream had followed one of my grenades, but I knew that the Guardsmen wore body armour capable of surviving grenade shrapnel, especially when the blast of the grenade would have been greatly reduced by the wet mud and water. Whoever was out there was likely to still be alive.
‘Griffiths!’ I ordered. ‘Double check Yulia is OK then follow me up!’
‘Will do, mate!’
I waded out through the marsh, towards where I had seen the Guardsman fall. There was no body there, but it didn’t take me long to figure out where he was. A path had been flattened through the reeds, and as I followed it my visor suddenly picked up a reading, flickering between orange and red as it tried to work out if it had detected a target. My headset magnified the sound of ragged breathing and sloshing water.
The Guardsman was crawling through the marsh in an effort to escape. Unaware that he was being followed, he slid his soaking wet, muddied body through the reeds, taking care not to make a sound. I couldn’t see any sign of injury, but I had no doubt that I had hit him. His pained, laborious movements suggested that he was wounded.
I followed him for a moment, gently gliding my boots through the water as I navigated the reeds until I was no more than ten metres behind him. Then, pointing my rifle directly at his head, I raised my voice.
‘Where are you going, Bhasin?’ I asked goadingly.
I knew it was Bhasin. I don’t know why, but I knew it was him. After all the bad luck my platoon had suffered, something good was bound to fall at my feet at some point.
Bhasin stopped, remaining perfectly still.
I had my quarry at last. After all the fighting, all the killing and all the senseless barbarity that my platoon had endured, there in front of me was the man I held responsible. Savouring the moment, I looked up at the vast expanse of marshland, and the hills rolling away far in the distance. Bright white flashes illuminated the morning sky to the north, as the Union fleet pounded Europa from orbit.
‘There’s no one to help you out here,’ I said menacingly. ‘The dropship you called for has turned around. It’s just you, and me.’
Hearing boots splash in the water, I turned to see Griffiths approaching, his eyes fixed onto Bhasin.
I continued. ‘We have a score to settle . . . you and us.’
Bhasin didn’t move. He was probably trying to figure out a way to deal with us. There was little hope of escape, so his only options were to surrender or fight to the death.
My eyes flicked down to his sides, noticing the pistol holstered against his thigh, the grenades and fighting knife about his waist, and the rifle he clutched in his arms in front of him. Nothing he carried could be brought to bear in less than a second, and a second was all we needed. I kept my rifle trained to his head, finger gently squeezing the trigger. A tiny fraction of extra pressure was all I needed to send a dart punching through his skull in a spray of crimson.
I suppose this would be the moment where we would have some kind of final showdown, if we were fictional characters in a hologram made on Earth, but that’s not what happened. We were in the middle of a warzone, with the might of two colonial powers bearing down upon us. Nobody cared about Bhasin anymore, or what we did to him.
I pulled the trigger.
Griffiths jumped as my rifle fired. With perfect accuracy, I shot Bhasin in both legs, then in the abdomen, and then in both arms. There was no hope for the Guard colonel to fight back, as his body rocked with every round. One of the darts partially severed his right arm as it struck bone, and Bhasin’s rifle dropped into the muddy water.
His screams lasted a matter of seconds. Griffiths stooped over him, ripping his respirator from his face and then plunging his head into the water.
I stood and watched as Bhasin’s body squirmed amongst the reeds, in an instinctive yet futile fight for survival.
‘That’s for Sanneh, you fucking scum!’ Griffiths spat, shifting his weight onto the Guardsman’s back.
Aleksi appeared beside me, having heard the sound of gunfire, and now he stared down at the wicked murder taking place before us with mild disdain.
‘Are you going to stop him?’ he asked with a raised eyebrow.
‘No.’
Aleksi considered my reply, then shrugged indifferently. ‘Fair enough, I probably owe you this anyway. Louis won’t be happy, but as far as he’s concerned everyone here has died in the firefight. Make sure you delete any imagery of this, otherwise we will end up in serious trouble when things calm down.’
I nodded grimly. ‘Understood.’
Aleksi turned away and left us to finish dispensing our own form of justice against the hated Guard colonel. After a short struggle, Bhasin finally succumbed to the water, and his body went limp, sinking deeper into the mud. Griffiths stood, and the two of us looked down at our victim.
‘Do you feel any better?’ Griffiths asked me after a while.
I thought about it. ‘Not really. I don’t regret doing it, though. He deserved it.’
The Welsh trooper sighed deeply. ‘I just wish we could have found Helstrom. Bhasin might have been somewhere at the top of all this shit, but Helstrom was the one who killed Sanneh.’
Griffiths was right, our vengeance would never be complete until we had Helstrom as well, but it appeared that he had somehow slipped out from our clutches. Perhaps the Militia commander had never been at Trondheim at all, I wondered. Perhaps he knew that his headquarters was going to come under attack, and had made his escape long before.
‘There’s still a chance we could find him if he’s still alive,’ I offered.
Griffiths looked at me.
‘Come on.’ I turned my back on Bhasin’s lifeless corpse. ‘Let’s get back to the saucer. The Europa invasion has only just begun . . .’
# # #
Author’s Notes
To contents page
Well, it's been a long time coming, but we got there in the end! Recce II was much harder to write than all its predecessors, partly due to the pressures of work and family, but mostly because the book needed to continue from where Recce left off and complete the story whilst tying off (most of) the loose ends. It was certainly a great deal more difficult to write than I thought it would be- probably harder than if it was stand-alone. You may also notice that I have tried to bring the focus back toward Andy Moralee and his battle against his inner demons in response to calls from many readers. I like to think I've done as good a job as I could have done, but I'll let you be the judge of that...
RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5) Page 35