Withdraw? We’re letting them get away with flaunting our orders?
“The Taka is standing by. Once our troopers are clear of the area, she will commence ground support in an attempt to separate the forces before the FIS and Alyanz decide to get involved.
Rev didn’t understand that. The Takagahara’s space-to-ground weapons were pretty accurate. If they had to get Second Squad out of there first, then the squad must be essentially co-located with one of the opposing forces.
From out in front, the sound of firing reached Rev over the growl of the Anaconda’s engines. They were getting close.
“I’m going to stop us short of Second. This is a pretty big—” The Anaconda jumped another wash, and Rev had to brace himself with his right arm. Bundy grunted as the vehicle hit before he could continue.
“It’s a pretty big target, so I want an infantry screen to walk the vehicle up to them. We need to clear the way.”
That plan lasted all of two minutes. To clear the crevices, the Anaconda had to have forward momentum, but as the ground became more and more riddled with washes, that became impossible.
Bundy quickly changed tactics. He stationed the Anaconda on the last piece of ground with a large route out and debarked the troopers.
“We’ll cover the distance better on foot. SFC Gamay, lead the way. We need to link up with Second Squad here,” he said, pinning the position on everyone’s display.
“Staff Sergeant Pelletier, I want you to stay in the turret and provide covering fire.
Rev immediately wanted to argue. He didn’t want to be left behind, out of the action. But one look at the glare Bundy gave him stopped him in his tracks. Bundy knew him too well, that he’d insist on going with the rest of the squad, and he wasn’t going to brook any dissent from him.
And in the back of his mind, he knew the lieutenant was right. With the terrain, if the troopers emerged from the washes, then Rev could provide supporting fires from here and well beyond the CoH’s exclusion area.
That didn’t mean he had to like it. But he shut up and said nothing.
Firing echoed from ahead, but inside the crevices, it was difficult to determine from just where they emanated. The squad quickly flowed into the wash, leaving Rev and PFC Schmidt, the Headquarters Company driver, alone.
“Let me know if you see anything at all,” SFC Gamay passed back to him.
“Roger.” But at the moment, all he saw was lots of dirt, rocks, and small bushes. The land was desolate.
Sporadic sounds of fire reached him, but he couldn’t tell from where or exactly what kind of firing it was. Not even Punch could identify it with any degree of certainty.
Eleven minutes after they left, SFC Gamay passed to Rev, “We’ve made initial contact with Second Squad. It’s going to take some time to extricate them, but I’m sending someone back with a WIA. Watch for him.”
Rev didn’t understand why both squads couldn’t just retreat. From the sounds, they might be in contact, but that wouldn’t preclude them from heading back.
A trooper came out of the wash, a body across his shoulders. Rev couldn’t see the trooper’s face, but there was only one person it could be: Lincoln Kvat. He ran to the back and dumped the body inside. It was only then that he looked up and caught Rev’s eyes.
“About time you showed up. But now we can kick some Scratcher ass if you’ll get off that damn thing and do some fighting.”
He darted forward and jumped back into the wash. Rev kept scanning for targets, but the action was being done inside the honeycomb of gullies and washes. No one was exposing themselves on the high ground. He could still hear the sounds of fighting, but he couldn’t see a thing. Not until a blast, at least, where a cloud of dust rose into the air about a hundred and seventy meters away, just outside the exclusion zone.
Crap. This is doing them no good at all.
“SFC Gamay, I can’t support anything from here. I’m being wasted.”
“Wait one. Let me hit up the lieutenant.” He came back a moment later. “We can sure use you and your IBHU. Ask the driver if she can man the .50, then join us here.”
A position flashed on his face shield display.
“Hey, Schmidt. I need you to man the .50,” he told the Headquarters Company trooper. He hadn’t exactly “asked” her, as Gamay had ordered, but he had to get forward, and if he wasn’t exactly in compliance, he’d apologize later after the fact.
The PFC didn’t complain, though. She emerged from below with a glow of excitement. Back in the Union, she’d be a Combat Support Marine, and evidently, she had the same desire as most of them to experience being a trigger-puller for once.
The rest of the squad and Kvat had entered the maze of crevices right below the Anaconda, but overlaying the position on his face shield, Rev thought he had a quicker way. He sprinted along the top, first to the right, then down and out of a small finger of the maze, and doubled back slanting to the left.
Another exchange of fire reached him, this time clearer as he closed the distance.
“Were those RP-5s?”
He still couldn’t quite tell himself with the walls of the crevices muffling the sounds.
The CMG soldiers relied on the Brighters, a high-tech slug-thrower. If the reports weren’t from the Home Guard troopers, then that had to be CMG and Scratchers engaging—and from the sound of it, they were inside the Home Guard’s exclusion zone.
So, why can’t the squads disengage?
The situation was gelling in Rev’s mind. One or both of the adversaries had decided to try for an advantage before the arrival of more Home Guard troops, and they’d tried to skirt the Home Guard’s AO but still take advantage of the cover offered by the tortured terrain in the area. One way or the other, they’d met, and with the maze of crevices, some of the fight had strayed into the exclusion zone, where Second Squad had either gotten caught up by accident or had reacted to the fighting.
What mattered most at the moment was that Second Squad had to be extracted, but something was making that difficult. Kvat showing up with a trooper on his shoulders didn’t quite fit the scenario, but all of that would come out in the hot wash.
Rev ran alongside the top of one of the larger washes. SFC Gamay and First Squad should be right up ahead. He saw movement and was about to tell the squad leader he was there when he realized it wasn’t troopers. It was a group of six Scratchers that he could see inside the wash, hugging the far wall. One was pointing ahead, giving some sort of instructions.
First Squad was right around the bend in the wash from them. The only conclusion he could reach was that the Scratchers were going to assault the squad. Whether they knew it was the troopers ahead or thought it was the CMG was immaterial. Rev had to protect his squad, and the Scratchers were in the exclusion zone.
He brought up Pashu. This was an easy shot, and his beamer could take out each of the Scratchers in his sight with one pass. He would certainly be justified to engage them. But did he have to?
These weren’t Centaurs, nor were they pirates. These were people trying to save their way of life.
“I’m above you and just south of your position. You’ve got Scratchers coming up your six. I’m going to dissuade them of that idea,” he passed to SFC Gamay.
“What are you doing on top. You’re exposed,” Gamay asked.
But Rev was already sprinting forward. He switched from his beamer to his 20mm cannon, adjusted for armor piercing, and fired a burst of five rounds that impacted the walls of the wash just a few meters in front of the lead Scratcher. A 20mm round packs a big punch. If the Scratchers had been standing near a tank, half of them would have gone down in the detonation. Hitting the dirt walls, however, the rounds penetrated the dirt but did not detonate. They still hit with a ton of force. The first Scratcher was blown on his back while dirt formed a dust plume.
It took the Scratchers by surprise. One of them darted back
while the others who were still standing wheeled about, looking for a target.
Two saw Rev and started to raise their weapons when Rev boomed out over his external speakers, “Freeze if you want to live.”
He must have been an apparition from hell, looming above them, Pashu aimed down. Whatever, they froze as ordered.
“Drop your weapons.”
Two looked at each other as if trying to come up with a plan.
“I’ll give you the count of two, then I’m frying you. One . . .”
The Scratcher standing next to them, the one who’d dropped his weapon, started edging away from them, fear taking over his face.
With Pashu locked on them, they had no choice, and they had to realize it. With Rev’s combat suit, their old rifles probably wouldn’t make a dent in it. One, then the other, quickly dropped their rifles.
“You are in the CoH exclusion zone. I have every right to kill you where you stand. So, if you want to live to see tomorrow, leave, now. Get back home to your families.”
The one who’d been edging away needed no more encouragement. He took off at a run.
“Can we take Mark?” one of the other two asked, pointing to the man who’d been blown over by the 20mm. The Scratcher was covered in brown dust and barely moving, trying to drag himself away.
“Take him.”
With one eye on him and one on their friend, they edged forward, grabbed the man, and retreated. Rev waited until they were clear before he beamed the weapons.
“You’re clear from your six,” he reported to Gamay.
“Get your ass under cover, Staff Sergeant Pelletier,” Bundy said, sounding pissed. “The CMG has Lancers, and they’re using them.”
Which explained what the problem was.
Rev immediately wheeled around, sweeping his gaze across the arid terrain. The Lancer was a low-tech missile with a fairly simple guidance system and warhead. Iffy against tanks or mech but more than enough to take out any armored soldier, it was economical enough for independent planets—and corporate armies—to use as a mainstay weapon. If the CMG mercs had them, all one had to do was pop his head out of a crevice and fire a shot at him.
One of those can drop you, Reverent. Get your ass under cover.
But something was stopping him.
Bundy switched to the P2P. “I’m serious. Get under cover. We’ve got Second Squad and are making our way back deeper into the exclusion zone. We’re leaving a few surprises if they keep following us.”
Rev went to a knee, but he didn’t get off the high ground.
“Give me a complete overlay of these washes.”
Punch threw it up on his display.
The approximate square klick really was a maze. Rev wasn’t sure how the occasional rains created such a mass of intersecting washes and crevices. It didn’t seem natural, but there it was.
He swiveled on his one knee, looking back to the Anaconda, sitting right at the edge of the biggest grouping of washes. Schmidt saw him look and waved. She was ready if needed, but Rev was sure that the CMG wouldn’t expose themselves to her .50—unless it were to fire a Lancer at her.
“Switch to Schmidt’s P2P.”
The PFC was not on the platoon net, so going to a P2P took a moment’s routing, and Punch could do that quicker than he could.
“Schmidt, they’ve got Lancers. I don’t know how effective they’d be against that Anaconda, but I suspect you wouldn’t like it. Keep scanning the ground. If you see a head pop up, well, protect yourself.”
“Got it, Staff Sergeant. And thanks for the head’s up.” She suddenly laughed over the net. “Did you hear what I said? Head’s up.”
Rev shook his head. Troopers, like Marines, could be crazy.
He stood and looked over the ground, comparing it with the overlay. He wasn’t so sure the CMG cared at the moment if they were in the exclusion zone or not. If they’d already engaged with the Home Guard, they might feel committed, and wiping out the two squads might seem like a better idea than letting them get away to give their side of the story. The Takagahara would be observing, but some of the narrower crevices could be blocking the ship’s scanners from the full picture.
“Do we have drones up that can give me a better look?”
Hell, now I’m sure the CMG aren’t just going to meekly withdraw. And if I were the commander, I’d . . .
And like a light switch turning on, he saw it. The two squads were retreating toward the Anaconda, and from the sound of it, they were under pressure. But there was another way through the maze that could cut off Bundy and the squads that a smart commander would see. If the CMG could send a force down that route, they could either ambush or set up a hasty minefield, hitting the two squads and still have a slight degree of plausible deniability. No one would believe them, but there might not be proof. And with the negotiators trying to prevent an outright war, they might be forced to accept that or risk the entire house of cards falling down.
Rev got on the P2p with Bundy. “I think you’ve got a problem,” he said, highlighting the spot he’d figured they might be ambushed just before reaching the Anaconda. “If the CMG can reach that before you do, you’ll be caught in a pincher.”
There was a moment while Bundy absorbed that. “Hell, you’re right. We’re withdrawing under pressure now. Let me see if I can get fires on that.”
Rev looked across the terrain to where that crevice was. It was a little rockier than the rest of the area. If the CMG emerged from it and were on the open ground, the Takagahara could wipe them out. But if they stayed inside what was essentially a miniature canyon? Rev wasn’t sure about that.
“I’m checking it out,” Rev told Bundy.
“Wait. Let me send a team up to help.”
Rev wasn’t going to wait. Things were coming to a head. Except . . .
The target crevice had a long, fairly straight stretch that led to the ambush site. One where a well-placed crew-served weapon could cover about twenty-five meters of its length. Like a .50 cal.
“Schmidt, can you get to here?” he asked, dropping a pin on the spot, just twenty-three meters from her present position, but over another small wash.
He could see her look, then she said, “Sure. Shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Get there and get back on the .50. Be ready to light up this approach.” He slapped an arrow on where he wanted her to cover, then sent the overlay he’d created to Bundy and Gamay so they’d know what he was doing.
Rev sprinted forward while Schmidt backed up her Anaconda to get a running start to clear the small wash. He hoped he hadn’t made her a target. The Anaconda was a heavy commercial vehicle, but he didn’t think it was heavy enough to withstand a Lancer, and it didn’t have any of the normal military defense systems that could knock down a missile like that.
He scrambled down another wash and up the other side. Now it was clear ground to his target. He bore down when as he’d been expecting, a head and shoulders appeared eighty meters to his left. The mercenary was quick, swinging around his launcher, but Rev was quicker. A single beam fried the gunner just before he could fire. The head disappeared back into the wash.
Well, I guess they know I’m here.
There was nothing he could do about that now, so he covered the last stretch, slowing down just before he reached the edge. He angled for a large boulder with a prickly bush growing beside it. The bush wouldn’t give him any protection, but it could give him a bit of concealment.
Rev carefully looked around the bush and rock and into the wash. It was clear. He shifted to the other side . . . and a round pinged off his shoulder. Beneath him, not twenty meters away, were seven CMG soldiers. Rev was quick, but they had the jump on him. He was barely able to duck back before rounds reached up to pepper the space where he’d been.
Rev pulled an MG-3 grenade from his thigh holster and set it for max dispersion, but before he could toss it, Schmidt’s .5
0 call opened up. Somehow, she’d gotten into position and manned the weapon in that short amount of time.
Rev looked around again, and four mercs were down as the rounds chewed up the dirt and rock, filling the crevice with dust. A soldier, perhaps braver than most, stepped out into the middle of the crevice and raised a Lancer to his shoulder.
While Rev could admire the courage, that didn’t stop him from raising Pashu and dropping the man. An arm reached out from cover on Rev’s side of the wash, in defilade from him, and pulled the merc’s body out of the line of fire.
From his present position, Rev had a good view of the bottom of the crevice. Four meters below, the bottom was about two meters wide at this point, made up of smooth rock and sand. At the top, it was about four meters wide. But anyone hugging the near wall was out of Rev’s sight. He had to clear it, and leaning over would only expose him, giving those below the advantage.
There was an option, however. He took half a dozen steps back, signaled Schmidt, then ran up and vaulted the narrow gap, twirling and sweeping his beamer as he jumped. Two soldiers had been waiting, rifles raised. Both fired as Rev appeared, but their rounds passed behind him. Both crumpled as the beamer swept over them and Rev, now facing backward, hit and fell on his butt just as movement on top caught his eye.
Rev jumped up, ready to take on the newcomers, but it was Akkeke and Bingham, running to catch up to him. It was only then that he realized they’d been trying to raise him. He was still on the P2P with Schmidt, and he’d been so focused that he hadn’t seen their circuit alert flashing. Not being Gamay or Bundy, they couldn’t override that.
“Check over there,” Rev passed, pointing to where their crevice bent around. Akkeke acknowledged and led Bingham to clear that section.
“Give me a verbal warning if another message is sent,” he told Punch.
An Uneasy Alliance: Book 4 of the Sentenced to War Series Page 31