Red Walker

by Scott Allen

  They started training the next morning at 0500 hours with a ten kilometer run. It was nippy, and they wore jackets, gloves, and knit hats. Dana was pleased to find himself out in front of all but one other man in his platoon. After breakfast, they went to work learning the basic infantry weapon, the rail carbine. It was shorter than the rifle with which he was familiar, but he was a good marksman with it, scoring better than anyone else in the platoon that morning. It was a subsonic silenced weapon, accurate out to about 250 meters.

  Lunch, then more physical training in hand-to-hand combat, at which he was only average, then classroom instruction on enemy weapons and tactics. The instructor discussed small arms, artillery, short- and medium-range intelligent rockets, armored vehicles, troop transports, personal vehicles, and aircraft. He discussed stealth technology that made vehicles and equipment almost invisible to radar, infrared sensors, and even the naked eye, technology much of which the enemy lacked. He discussed some of the weapons and equipment they would be using themselves to counter what the enemy had.

  At supper, Dana met more of his platoon. During the conversation, he said, “I’m kind of having fun with this, so far.”

  “Yeah, me, too. I love shooting and blowing things up!” said Brandon. “But, three months from now it’s going to get serious.”

  “Most of you guys have killed somebody,” said Tatum. “What’s that like?”

  The other three men at the table were silent for a moment. Then Blaine said, “It’s complicated.”

  Dana responded. “It didn’t feel good at all to shoot someone who was just doing her job … some brainwashed young woman … turned into a gory mess, because she would’ve shot me … hearing her scream … that didn’t feel good at all. I did shoot a general once. She was a cruel… bitch. I was so mad I didn’t even think, I just filled her full of holes. The same for some bandits who would’ve killed me. Those were easy. It’s the innocent ones that I try not to think about.”

  Blaine said, “My rebellion squad attacked a Male Control station and killed about 10 officers that were inside. I shot one of them before she could raise her gun to shoot me. There was a split second before I pulled the trigger … she knew she was going to die. She looked like a terrified little girl. I shot her anyway. I got her right in the forehead. She died instantly. I still see her face in my dreams.”

  Brandon said, “Yeah, I’ve done those things. I don’t want to talk about it. Probably do more of it. I hate it. But, it’s what we have to do. I have a younger half-brother I grew up with out there somewhere – probably dozens of half-brothers I never met. My father might still be alive, whoever he is. And sons and daughters, maybe. I want them to be free. I’ll kill whoever I have to. But, I won’t like it.”

  Tatum looked thoughtful. “Well, I’ll do what I have to do. Women were brought up to hate me, and I was brought up to fear them. It’s so screwed up. It’s so damn screwed up. We need to flush this down the toilet and start over.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  The training continued, with nearly all the men taking to it like professionals. The few who didn’t would not appear at the next meal, and the men returning to their barracks would find those men’s bunks empty and stripped of bedding. Two men in the battalion were killed when they were showing off and lost control of their personal ground-effect stealthcycles. They could rise high into the air instead of just hovering over the ground, but it required a lot of experience to control them. Most of the men in the battalion saw the accidents, as the two men shot upwards out of the ground-level formation and then over-corrected, hitting the earth at high speed. There was no protection around the rider, just his uniform and his stealthsuit. All the company sergeants made their charges dismount and walk over to the mangled bodies and get a good look, even if they vomited in their ‘suits. There were no more accidents after that.

  Paraglide training took about a week, with the men learning to jump from a platform and land without injuring themselves, and how to pack paragliding equipment. Finally, they started jumping out of the large aircraft used for training. Dana, like all the other men, was terrified of jumping out, but there was no choice. When one man balked at the doorway, Sergeant Carroll just booted him out. The man’s paraglider opened normally, and he claimed later that he really enjoyed the ride. The men did six jumps without any serious injuries, and felt very proud of themselves.

  It was now getting quite cold most days, and sometimes there was light snow on the ground. The stealthsuit was designed to prevent the soldier from being detected in the dark by infrared detectors, or in low light by sight. It was a one-piece waterproof coverall, quite roomy, that trapped all body heat, except for a variable amount that could be vented out the heels under the control of the user. There was an air exchanger that brought fresh outside air into the facial area at a comfortable temperature. Sergeant Carroll explained that the rider in a ‘suit on a ‘cycle, at night, staying low, would normally have no more than the heat signature of a rat or other small animal, and also be undetectable by any form of radar. All a small platoon had to do was spread out and move at a moderate speed, and they would be almost impossible to detect except dimly by sight in sunlight or very bright moonlight. They would look like the blurred outlines of ghosts to a careful observer.

  During the day, they would have to lay up. Dana was familiar with that, he thought. The ‘suit used embedded sensors and an artificial intelligence algorithm to determine the pattern of camouflage on the exterior, so they could blend in with snow, forest, grasslands, or even the sides of buildings. Their stealthcycle, weapons, and stealthsuits had to be recharged, so they carried folding solar panels in the panniers of their ‘cycles that used the same camouflage technology. The Sergeant told them that the U.S. Army did not have the stealthsuit or stealthcycle technology, although it did have an early version of stealth aircraft. “If you have to ditch your ‘suit or ‘cycle, destroy it with explosives, even if the delay gets you killed. That is a standing order. We don’t want them to reverse-engineer it,” said the Sergeant.

  Communication with each other was via a band of small encrypting transceivers that circled their heads, and would only reach about 200 meters, although they could be detected faintly at 300 meters. Earphones and microphones embedded in the suits allowed them to talk with little fear of being overheard or understood by anyone else outside their battalion. Communication of each platoon with battalion headquarters was via a burst transmitter to a satellite, undetectable by the enemy. They could switch to infrared vision in their suits as required.

  Dana reflected that it was good they would be going to war in the winter, when they would be grateful for the heat trapped in the stealthsuit. He imagined they would be awful in the heat of summer, even venting at full blast.

  After a month, they got their first paychecks. Most of them looked at the piece of paper with wonder. Dana had no real idea what that many pesos would buy, except a vast number of condoms. He had to laugh at himself. A group of Mexican bank officers was there to help them set up accounts. Sergeant Carroll told them that, in the future, their paychecks would be automatically deposited. When they returned behind the lines for Rest and Resupply, they could buy wristbands and use them to pay for things. None of them had any means of communication with the outside world, for security reasons. Dana had to surrender his small viewscreen on arrival, and would not have it back until back behind the lines. He ached to talk to Nance and see her face on the screen, but was totally in agreement with the need for security. He could not help wondering what she was doing now, and if she was going to be in danger. He hoped not, but he had no control over it. So, he tried to put her out of his mind.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  With 7 weeks to go, training entered a new phase, with repeated simulated actions against enemy targets. Platoons were told to take out an artillery battery or missile launcher that was manned by a platoon from another company. Each attacking platoon was equipped with two sim long-range sniper rifles t
hat used lasers to “hit” targets, two spotter scopes, two rocket launchers and artificially intelligent sim-rockets that were harmless if they hit something, grenade launchers, and simulated grenades for each carbine. They also had two burst transmitters, local awareness projection maps for their ‘suit faceplates, four raptor drones that looked like hawks and were designed to hunt and destroy enemy camera drones, and four camera drones that were similar to the ones the enemy used.

  One of the men was chosen at random to play the role of a platoon leader, who became acting lieutenant, and one was chosen as acting platoon sergeant. Several others were assigned as corporals. They were given their mission after lunch, shown the map location of the target, usually around ten kilometers away, and then told to approach the target as closely as they wished, hide out until nightfall, and then attack and retreat successfully. Everyone had sensors on their ‘suits, so that hits from the enemy carbines, which were shooting laser beams, would register and declare them dead or wounded.

  The first time, the acting lieutenant made a rookie error of approaching the target too closely before daylight faded, and the platoon was spotted by the defending pickets and quickly wiped out. In subsequent simulations, Dana was repeatedly chosen as sniper by the acting lieutenant. They had all seen his marksmanship scores. Sometimes he was chosen as rocket launcher. Once, as platoon sergeant, defending a simulated camp in the woods, he correctly deduced the direction from which the attack would come and placed his squad in exactly the right spot for an ambush, wiping out the attacking platoon. Captain Evan and Sergeant Carroll were always invisibly hovering above the battlefield, observing and listening to their talk.

  The missions were becoming longer and longer. They would be sent out after breakfast with small food packets with a target twenty kilometers away. They would have to lie up all day long on a flat plain, looking like piles of snow against an old fence line or lumps of dirt down in gullies, for eight hours, motionless. Then, with a signal from their lieutenant, they would rise and meet to hear the plan the lieutenant had devised, eat quickly, approach the target low and slow on ‘cycles, and then on foot. Occasionally, they would defend a target against a platoon from another company.

  Dana had very little time to think of Nance. He was either too busy or too exhausted, wanting only sleep. Yet, his mind would turn to her briefly, wanting not only the warmth of her body, but the warmth of her company and her thoughts on what was happening. She was smart and educated, and could often make sense of things. There was no way to talk to her or even send her a message – security, of course - so he tried to put her out of his mind.

  The men learned very quickly this way. They also learned about each other. Dana carefully watched the two men chosen as acting platoon lieutenant and sergeant, and made bets with himself which ones would devise and execute clever, unexpected plans, and which would get most of their platoon “killed.” He was usually right. When he was acting platoon sergeant, he was often paired with one of the slower soldiers as acting lieutenant, and essentially ran the platoon, making suggestions to the lieutenant about tactics that were usually accepted.

  The day came when Dana was chosen as acting lieutenant. The target was a headquarters building full of division senior officers to be killed, and crawling with guards. They were also to take any memory devices for intelligence purposes. The headquarters was in a simulated small town on top of a rise in the barren landscape, with perhaps thirty buildings of various sizes, most known to be unoccupied. It was going to be a tough nut to crack, not the least because the moon would be almost full until it set at 0200 hours, and any platoon-sized motion across the empty plains would be somewhat visible to the naked eye until then. In addition, his orders read, “Because of civilians in the town, we will not use missiles to take out the headquarters, which is sandwiched in between apartment buildings. To avoid giving the enemy a propaganda coup, do not, we repeat, do not harm innocent civilians. Neutralize only uniformed enemies, or civilians using or preparing to use weapons against you. Do not take prisoners. Do not leave technology behind.”

  Dana took his platoon on ‘cycles as far as they had cover from hillocks and gullies, finishing about four kilometers from the town. It was 1400 hours, and they had twelve hours to wait before the moon was down. The men were hungry and tired and ready for sleep, so Dana posted four pickets and told the others to eat and sleep in stealth mode until it was their turns for picket duty. He set his own internal alarm for 2300.

  At 2300 he woke up and considered the difficulties. The moon was still up and very bright, and he could easily see the town when he poked his head above the gully edge. His mind raced to find a way to accomplish the mission within all the constraints. He finally settled on a plan. One of his problems was his sergeant, Hudson. The man’s attitude had not improved. He had botched his opportunity as acting lieutenant, failing at the mission and getting most of the platoon “killed.” Dana would have to handle him carefully.

  He looked upwards and saw, about 200 meters away, 30 meters above and to the side of them, a couple of ghostly blurs in the moonlight that he assumed were the stealthcycles being ridden by the Captain and the Sergeant. Dana was a bit concerned that they were visible from the town, but probably were not giving away the platoon’s position. To a camera drone, his platoon and their ‘cycles would have looked like randomly-distributed lumps of dirt in gullies. Even if the drones were using infrared cameras, they would have looked like sleeping rats or field mice in burrows on the sides of the gullies.

  He woke up his platoon at midnight, telling them to join him in the cover of the gully, and stay low. When they were assembled, he explained the plan. “Men, our mission is to decapitate an enemy division, kill all its officers, and leave it headless while the main army attacks it an hour later. We need to pick up all memory devices for intelligence analysis. Our mission tempo will be very fast, faster than any mission so far. We are up against a divisional headquarters company, so we are outnumbered about three to one. Get in, do a thorough job of killing officers and anyone who resists, gather up any memory devices, and get out.”

  “We are going to create a diversion as soon as the moon is down, then attack. At 0200, Sergeant Hudson is going to take the snipers, spotters, rocket men and two of the raptor drone men over to the southwest side of the town on their ‘cycles, stopping three hundred meters away from the town, out of their rifle range. Spread out, so you’ll seem to be a larger force. From there, the Sergeant will give orders to activate the raptors and blind the enemy. They’ll know something’s up, and so as soon as you take down their first camera drone, the Sergeant will give orders to the snipers to pick off any targets. Soldiers only! Officers first! We have strict orders not to hurt civilians unless they are acting hostile. The rocket men will each launch rockets and hit these five buildings [the buildings illuminated on everyone’s facial display]. We know those are unoccupied by civilians. Move after every rocket launch or sniper attack, of course.

  “While the Sergeant’s squad is moving to the southwest, the rest of the platoon will be moving to the east side of the town, use our remaining two raptors to blind them on the east side, and use our own camera drones to detect enemy positions. We will move into the town when we hear the snipers and the rockets hit, because we anticipate that some soldiers on the east side will be called to repel an attack on the southwest. Sergeant Hudson, it will be up to your judgement to decide if the nine of you can efficiently attack at that point, without unacceptable losses. Watch out for a feigned retreat, it is likely to be a trap. If they come after you with any kind of force, you will retreat as fast as possible, circle around, and join our attack from the east.

  “Those of us moving into the attack from the east, take note of this map, and use it in the attack [a map appeared on their facial displays]. We’ll park our ‘cycles on the slope below the town. The buildings in white are unoccupied by civilians, but once the attack starts, we have to assume there may be enemy troops hiding in them. You
four men [he pointed] will go up this street, clearing buildings on your left as you go. Stay out of the red buildings, they are civilian, unless soldiers use them. If so, clear them with as little damage to civilians as possible. You four men [picking out four more] will go up this street. You four men, this street. Same instructions to all. Don’t get ahead of the other teams, who will be clearing buildings to your right. Don’t leave enemy alive in your rear. No prisoners – we can’t afford men to guard them. You three men will follow me up the middle street, here. You other four will stay at the bottom of the hill as reserve.

  “We are all headed for the building in blue in the center of town. That’s the headquarters of the enemy division. There will be at least four generals there, quite a few other officers, and some guards. You two teams to my left go in the side entrance on the alley next to the civilian building, blow it open with simulated explosives. The team on my right, the other side entrance. Kill everyone, then get the hell out, regroup here, and we will return to base. Once we have killed all the officers and collected memory devices, we’re done, unless ordinary soldiers get in our way. Try to pick up any of our wounded or dead, but not at the cost of your own life. If the zone is still hot once all the officers are dead, kill any of our own wounded with simulated explosives and destroy their stealthsuits and ‘suits of the dead, and shoot your way out. Any questions?”

  The men seemed stunned at the ruthlessness of this particular mission. Finally one asked, “Why do we have to kill our own wounded if the zone is hot?”

  “Because each of us knows too much, and because we can’t stop to remove stealthsuit technology. The enemy headquarters will notify their army that they are under attack and in two hours or less, the place will be swarming with troops, ours and theirs. One of our wounded, just like dead civilians, will be an intelligence coup and a propaganda victory for them. They will torture everything they can out of a wounded man, show him confessing to rape and murder on every viewscreen, and then kill him. You’re dead one way or the other, might as well skip the torture. If I’m wounded and you can’t get me out, blow me, up, too. Any other questions?”