by C. R. Daems
"This is the spot on the map where they claim the ammunitions are stored," Mamba said as we huddled together.
"Good cover from prying eyes. If it is, they probably have a tunnel under the house into the mountain," Panther interjected.
"Let's wait for night to approach the house. Maybe we can get a look inside to determine what we will face if we charge in unannounced," I said to nodding heads. Of course, I would have received nodding heads if I would have said let's storm the house now. It was already evening, and the skies were cloudy, so it only took a few hours to be pitch black outside. The house had only one entrance but several windows into the main room, and one in each bedroom. An hour later, the team had determined there were eight men in the house: two in each bedroom sleeping and four in the front room playing cards. I decided the safest course of action would be to shoot through the windows.
Mamba and Taipan took the two windows in the back of the house while Panther and I took the two windows in the front. I clicked on my timer icon and waited as the twenty seconds ticked off. When it chimed, I stood and began shooting at the four men playing cards. Glass exploded as bullets tore the window and frame apart. I could hear my team firing in the rear at the same time. Between Panther and I, the four barely managed to stand before they died. Panther dashed in and immediately checked each bedroom, while I checked the four at the table. Panther gave me a thumbs-up sign when he returned, and Mamba and Taipan joined us a minute later. A search of the house revealed a trap door in one of the closets, which led down into a thirty-meter tunnel to a forty-by-twenty-meter room filled with weapons, uniforms, vests, night gear, ammo, and explosives.
"It will be interesting to find out where they got all these goodies," I said. "I'd like to take the RPGs and go blow up their headquarters building, but I'd like to capture it to see what information it contains. Maybe there is some group backing the Libertao. This was a well-organized operation." We collected an RPG, a fifty-caliber machine gun, C-4, and ammo before returning to the house. When we did, I sat.
I woke to the smell of food. My eyes shot open and I was preparing to leap to my feet when Taipan spoke.
"Don't worry, Jolie. Mamba is outside on lookout. Jafar found the house was stocked with food and decided to cook us a dinner while waiting for our leader to wake up."
"Smells good," I said, feeling hungry. It had been a long time since we had last eaten anything except for rations and energy bars.
"That was delicious, Jafar," I said leaning back in my chair. Taipan had replaced Mamba as lookout. "The only problem with a meal like that is now I'm ready for a nap, and we should be moving on to the headquarters' building."
"But, now you have the energy to run down to the headquarters building and take them on single-handed. What a great story that will make," Jafar said.
"I'm the leader, so you three can run down to the headquarters building and take them on single-handed while I nap." I laughed. "Go get a couple more RPGs. I think we will do it the easy way." We left thirty minutes later. And to my relief, the headquarters' buildings, three in total, were only a klick down the road. The security was better with four men patrolling the grounds. The headquarters building was a two-story house, which looked new and at least four thousand meters living area, and two narrow one-story buildings behind the main building, which looked to hold fifty to one hundred men each. Only a night light appeared lit in the barracks. Headquarters was dark.
I'll take out the sentries, then you take out the barracks," I said. We lay on the other side of the road about fifty meters from the headquarters building and another thirty from the barracks. "That should empty the headquarters building." I got comfortable in between two bushes and slowed my breathing as I peered through the scope on my CheyTac. The three took up their RPGs and prepared to fire when the sentries were down or an alarm sounded. I chose the guard furthest from the others who was getting ready to walk behind the furthest barrack. Pop. He fell quietly halfway behind the barrack. Then I sighted in on the sentry standing guard in front of the steps to the headquarters building as the other two were now out of sight. Pop. He fell in front of the steps leading up to the door. A minute later, a sentry appeared from his tour of the headquarters building. Pop. He was thrown backward and disappeared from my sight. The fourth sentry was just emerging from his tour of the first barrack. Pop. Before he hit the ground, three missiles streaked towards the barracks. Windows and walls exploded outwards, the roof began collapsing from lack of support, and flames lit the entire area in an eerie hellish glow. A minute later, three more missiles streaked towards the burning barracks and lights began appearing in the headquarters building, and as I had hoped, men began emerging.
"Wait," I said unnecessarily as I wanted the building empty and shooting the men leaving could cause others to stay. "Now," I said several minutes later when I thought most out. The quiet pops of the CheyTac suppressors sounded as men dropped, never knowing death approached at supersonic speed or where their enemy lay. I decided to stay in the area until well after the light of dawn revealed the carnage, in case there were survivors lurking among the debris. By noon, we had killed eleven as they finally thought it safe and came out of hiding. During that time, seven women exited the headquarters' building and began running up the road. There was nothing we could do for them, so we let them go.
CHAPTER FORTY
Planet Surbaya: Mission Accomplished
"I'm bored," I said, and everyone gave me a puzzled look. "Let's go get a couple of vehicles, pickup our wounded, and go home."
Taarah was the unanimous response. Less than an hour later, we saw the area we were after. It was well hidden, especially from the air. A large camouflage netting hung on ten-meter poles, covering several troop trucks, ten off-road vehicles, an assortment of motorcycles, and heavy equipment for working on them. A small barn-like building sat closer to the road. Between the netting, building, and the vehicles’ camouflage paint, the area was difficult to see without a closer examination. At the moment, no one was in sight.
"What do you think?" I asked no one in particular.
"If they saw the fire or heard the explosions, they are hunkered down and prepared for a fight," Jafar said. "Otherwise, they are late sleepers."
"Or they've fled," Mamba said with a grin.
"That's awful open ground between here and the building, and there are a hundred places to hide among the vehicles and rocks," I said, as I lay there scanning the area through my scope. "Let's rest here until it gets dark." I mumbled to myself, obviously loud enough to be heard. I rather not tempt the space gods or wake them if they are sleeping.
"In other words, we’ve been too damn lucky so far," Taipan said.
"From what I’ve heard about the Ghost Platoon, I thought this was normal performance," Jafar said trying to sound serious.
"Well, it’s what our leader expects every time," Mamba said. And when I looked up, all three were grinning. For the next eight hours, we took turns watching for signs of life while the other three rested. Sure enough, an hour after dark, three men exited the building, got on motorcycles, and raced down the road. They probably thought they had successfully escaped when they had gone a hundred meters down the road. They died never having heard the sound from the bullets that killed them.
We approached cautiously, but no one else was in the building. Inside, it was much like a normal house except for the large number of bedrooms.
"Which vehicles do you want, Fox?" Taipan asked, looking around the area.
"Let's take two trucks and a jeep," I said. "I think there is a small dirt path that a jeep can negotiate in case some of the wounded need help getting up to the road."
* * *
Two hours later, we had arrived back at the training area, and we found the jeep had no trouble on the path down to the camp.
"How is everyone, Peppermint?" I asked. Peppermint stood next to one of the tents looking tired.
"They are all stable, but they could all benefit from a few
days in a hospital. A few will need surgery," he said and then scanned each of us. "Anyone need attention?"
"No. Our platoon leader gets pissed when we get hurt," Mamba said smiling.
"And I have a right to be pissed. Makes me look bad." I tried to look angry but couldn't help a smile. This mission had looked as if it would get us all killed, but we had all survived. "Alright, let's get everyone loaded into the trucks. With luck, we should be back in Harjar by sunrise and have those who need more training in the hospital by noon."
* * *
Our trucks pulled up to my father's home and school just after noon. Before we could get everyone unloaded, Colonel Medina and my father were at the gate.
"What happened?" Medina asked, her eyes darting from me to each man and back to me. Before she could continue, I interrupted.
"As you can see, Cathy, half my team need remedial training. I spent more time looking after them than chasing the enemy."
"Nag, nag, nag," Smitty said. "That's the trouble with women platoon leaders."
Medina just shook her head. "Did you find their main camp?"
"Yep," I said, but didn't add anything. A bit cruel but I couldn't help it. I was in a fantastic mood–no one had gotten killed.
"Good, I can get Rangers up here to attack the base."
"Can't," I said. Medina frowned at me.
"Why not?"
"No one's there."
"They deserted the area…because they know you know where it is?"
"Cathy," my father said, "she's enjoying herself far too much, which I suspect means they are all dead."
"Yep." I gave my best happy face. "But you should get the Rangers up along with a doctor. I'd like to get the wounded looked at by a doctor and hospitalized." I held up a hand. "And I'd like Rangers to clean out their weapons’ stash, collect their vehicles, visit their headquarters building to see who may have been supporting them, and clean up the mess we made."
"Oh my God!" Medina exclaimed. "How many?"
"Didn't count," I said. "But one of the Libertao said he thought slightly less than two hundred." I paused. "Oh, they should probably clean up the path to the camp. It's also a bit of a mess."
"I'll call, but afterward, you owe your father and me the gory details."
* * *
Medina dragged every detail of the story out of me while we waited for the shuttles to arrive. I agreed to lead Medina and the Rangers to the four sites. Three shuttles arrived two hours later with a doctor, a nurse, and twenty-four Rangers.
"How are they, Doctor…?" I asked when he had finished inspecting the wounded.
"VanDame. I've heard each Tasmanian had a specialty, one of which was medic. Your medic did excellent field work on the wounds, or a couple might have died," he said.
"We can't afford to take medics and other specialties along on assignments. It would slow us down and possibly jeopardize the mission. So, each of us has to have a functional specialty, and we have to maintain it while not on assignment. Three of my ten-man team have a medical specialty. Peppermint, Isaac, did most of the work, as our other medic was wounded, and I was preoccupied. I'm sending my entire team back with you for a checkup. The boys hate to admit they are injured."
"What about you?" he asked scanning me while he did.
"I'll check in with you when I get back to Fort Lochay. Honest. Otherwise, my team will bitch all the way back to Delphi."
He laughed as I walked back to where Medina was standing with my father.
"You appear to be on a high, Jolie," he said, appraising me as only a father could.
"Yes, Father. Some bad people have been stopped from hurting innocent people and none of my team died. A true gift from the space gods," I said knowing he had been concerned that my high was from killing.
"Space gods?" he asked with a slight frown.
"Yes, Father. My name for whoever might be up there," I looked up to the sky, "watching, helping, or playing with us down here. The last couple of days they were either asleep or being very helpful."
I boarded one of the shuttles with Medina.
"Cathy, have the pilot follow the trail west," I said, handing him my TCom, which had a map of the area. As he did, I pointed to where fighting had taken place. There were bodies everywhere: Smitty's trap, the thirty my team had ambushed, my trap, the fight at the training base, the stash house where the weapons were stored, the headquarters buildings, and finally the vehicle depot.
"I don't know how you survived," Cathy said as we left the Libertao's vehicle area and were on our way back to Fort Lochay.
"With ten exceptionally talented, intelligent, trained-to-perfection brothers," I said, with true affection.
"You Tasmanians are truly Devils," Medina said, shaking her head.
"And et anima una," I added. "Of one mind."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
For those of you, like me, who enjoy audiobooks because of the flexibility they provide, book I of the Tasmanian SFG, Welcome to Hell, will be available in March 2020, and book II, Devils to Me, later in 2020.