Dragon Two-Zero (Fury's Fire Book 1)

by William McCaskey

  On the eastern side of base, Alice and Titan had secreted themselves on the roof of their building with a clear view into the artillery battery. The Renks had set their cannons in amongst the cranes and lifts used to remove crop bales and cargo from ships at rest in the harbor. So far, they had a tally of six cannons, none with enough reach to hit the city's outskirts but definitely a continued threat to any actions within the city limits. Titan was using a set of field glasses to help Alice develop a target priority list. They had already identified the command console for the battery that would be the Starstrike’s target and, depending on how tight the beam was, Alice was pretty confident the nearest three tubes would be hit as well. The final three she could spike from her vantage point if Mjolnir couldn't finish the job.

  As soon as she heard Harlequin's call over the net, she began her internal countdown while rolling herself into a good firing position. She hadn't deployed the bipod legs; even with the ball pivot to assist in panning the rifle left to right, she preferred a more unrestricted movement of her weapon. She had removed the glare shield from her scope; it would have reduced her field of vision, and while it would have lowered the chances of sun gleam creating a tell, the sun was nearly set and would disappear below the horizon any minute. At thirty seconds on her internal count, she brought the command station into view through her scope; this would be her first use of the Starstrike, and Harlequin had told her to treat it like a normal shot. She wouldn't feel a jump from the rifle, but she would see the marker on its flight and the splash. Forty-three seconds, the status light in her display changed from yellow to green; Mjolnir was back online and ready for the next shot. She drew in a breath and exhaled slowly, holding at the pause that comes naturally between the complete exhale of one breath and the inhale of the next. Forty-five seconds, her finger ghosted down onto the trigger, and with a slow, smooth pull, the trigger drew back. She felt no recoil as the beacon left the attachment to her rifle, but she watched as the oval packet of energy rocketed away toward its target.

  The moment before the beacon splashed against the command console and bathed it in a glow invisible to the naked eye, Alice imagined what it would be like if the packet's energy contained more punch and instead of acting as a targeting beacon was itself the weapon. She smiled to herself as the command console began to shine, calling Mjolnir's attention to it, and the status light in her scope told her that her call for attention was not going to go unanswered. She depressed her transmit button, containing her smile and keeping her voice calm. “Shot out." Forty-seven seconds had passed since Harlequin's call.

  It was sixty seconds from Harlequin's shot that the first round from Mjolnir struck, homing in on the marked command post and riding the beacon directly into and through the southern wall. When the sniper and weapon's chief were working in concert, they could select a specific type of round depending on the target, similar to how the round they had called into the weapons factory had been a controlled burst and taken out only that building. When fired remotely, just off the sniper's marker beacon, Mjolnir used a standard round without a selection for a specific target type.

  As the round exploded from within the command post and the change in pressure from the concussive shockwave could be felt within the alleyway where the assault team sheltered, it became evident to Reaver that the standard round for Mjolnir meant an area of effect weapon. Reaver stuck his tongue against the roof of his mouth and swallowed, forcing his ears to pop and adjust to the sudden pressure change. Looking back, he saw Space Case and Wolf doing the same; making sure he had their attention, he told them in a low voice. “Thirty seconds." He probably need not have worried about being heard, as the sounds echoing from the direction of the Renk base were of confusion and chaos; but better to be cautious and maybe garner a little luck with Mr. Murphy. All three Marines shifted their rifles in preparation for the sprint toward the enemy position.

  At twenty-five seconds, Reaver held his left hand over his head with his fingers spread, counting down the last five seconds. As his thumb closed and his fingers clenched into his fist, Reaver pumped his arm twice, in rapid succession, signaling his team to move. The three Marines spilled from the alleyway onto the main thoroughfare and sprinted toward the enemy checkpoint. From the alley to the checkpoint was a hundred and fifty meters of open street; the Renks had ensured their guards at the checkpoint would have clear lines of fire to cover the entirety of the approach to the base.

  A solid plan, the weak point being that while they had established positions for two weapon emplacements, they had only installed one thus far. When the Marines broke into a sprint the enemy soldiers' attention was focused in the wrong direction, inside the base and the resulting chaos of the initial Mjolnir strike. The assault team had covered about half the distance to the entry point when the first round from Harlequin's rifle struck the primary gunner in the back of the neck. The round severed the spinal column low enough to avoid an instant kill but high enough to leave the soldier a quadriplegic for the final few minutes of his life before exiting from the center of his throat, destroying his larynx and leaving him gasping silently as he died. The round ended its flight by slamming into and shattering the left shinbone of the assistant gunner, driving jagged pieces of bone to slice through his calf muscle and sending him screaming to the pavement.

  Harlequin's second shot silenced the Renk’s screams, the pink mist from the round’s passage through his skull painting the wall behind him. As Reaver and the assault team closed the distance with the now unmanned checkpoint, it appeared the shots had gone unnoticed. The same could not be said of Bull's solution for dealing with the eastern checkpoint.

  As Harlequin had been drawing a bead on his first target, Bull had been measuring angles and judging distances. The warehouse roof he and Harlequin had chosen as their perch reached out over the western-most road, affording the sniper a clear line of fire at the checkpoint at the end of the street and the now burning remains of the enemy's command post. It did not, however, afford a clear view of the eastern road's checkpoint, therefore requiring some quick math from the heavy weapons specialist.

  Every Marine's pistol could serve a secondary purpose as a grenade launcher, giving them another tool to use on the battlefield. When used as a launcher, the top slide of the pistol was locked open, and the grenade slid down in front of the solid round held in place by the firing clamps; the slide then closed, and the weapon was ready to fire. This allowed the pistol to swiftly return to its primary purpose without any more effort from the Marine.

  With the first grenade slotted into place, Bull eyed where he had judged his target to be through the obstructing buildings and raised his right arm to approximately a thirty-five-degree angle from parallel with the rooftop, with his elbow tucked tightly against his body to keep his arm steady and pulled the trigger. The magnetic accelerators grabbed ahold of the grenade, rather than the pistol round, and slung the explosive out of the pistol's muzzle with an audible metallic click.

  Before the preceding grenade had reached the apex of its flight, Bull slotted a second into place and readied to fire, his eyes tracing the trajectory of his initial shot. "Shit," he swore as he realized the round was going to fall short of the checkpoint. Reacquiring the thirty-five-degree angle, Bull raised his point of aim by five centimeters and pulled the trigger again. The metallic click sounded just as the lead grenade dropped out of sight below the buildings, the crashing explosion shattering the surrounding windows and sending excited shouts from the soldiers manning the checkpoint. Dust and smoke rose from the landing point of the first grenade and served to obscure the second grenade's flight path. The second explosion sent another column of smoke rising into the air and silenced the shouts from the checkpoint. Sliding his pistol back into the holster strapped to his right thigh, Bull reached down and triggered the transmit switch of his radio. “ECPs clear." With the soldiers guarding the entryway into the base eliminated, Bull was now responsible for keeping his sniper covered and calli
ng out targets of opportunity. When the assault team exited the base, both he and Harlequin would be responsible for covering their exfiltration.

  Reaver, Space Case, and Wolf reached the western-most checkpoint into the base forty-three seconds after the first Mjolnir round had impacted, and about ten seconds after Bull's grenades had taken out the eastern entry control point. The three Marines rolled over the erected barricades and into the previously manned weapon nest. The inside of the rear wall was slick with blood, and a rasping whistle tore itself from the dying enemy soldier as he fought to breathe. None of the Recon Marines spared him a glance as they turned their eyes into the base. The stench of ozone filled the air, and an electrical charge stood hair on end moments before the second Mjolnir round struck the command console of the artillery battery with a thunderous crash. The resulting explosion turned the dusk sky into noon for a moment, then darkness returned. Numerous secondary explosions followed as rounds prepped for another barrage were ignited and cooked off, toppling and twisting the guns not immediately struck by the initial blast.

  Keeping an eye on the guns through her rifle scope, and with the night-vision operational, Alice had to blink her vision clear even with the flash guard integral to the scope’s operation. Seeing that all six guns had been slagged, Alice thumbed her talk button. “Guns wrecked." With the command shack destroyed, the artillery battery decimated, and the enemy forces within the base thrown into chaos, she was free to engage targets of opportunity as they presented themselves.

  Having heard both Bull and Alice's transmissions, Reaver knew it was down to the assault team to complete their mission; then they could call the Army and let the Warrants have their fun. Signaling for his team to move, Reaver slid over the back wall. “Wolf, leave a present for anyone that comes looking."

  As Space Case followed Reaver over the wall, Wolf slipped a grenade from her pouch and gently slid the explosive under the body of the dead enemy soldier. Putting pressure on the body to ensure the trigger remained in place, she carefully primed the grenade to detonate as soon as pressure was removed from the trigger and worked her hand free from beneath the dead soldier. The last thing the panicking and dying enemy soldier saw of the Marines was Wolf's dark red lips blowing him a kiss before spreading in a feral grin before she turned after her teammates.

  The three Marines sprinted through the chaos of the enemy base, keeping as much to the shadows as possible as they neared the ruins of the command post. The Renks worked on a strict hierarchal command structure, and innovative thinking was not encouraged the way it was within the Alliance military. With their chain of command calling the shots, PSPU soldiers were swift to act, many times more out of fear of their officers and political commissars than any desire to fight, but when the chain broke down, chaos inserted itself. Reaver had counted on any surviving command staff gathering near the site of the original CP to reestablish command and control of their soldiers; his gamble paid off. Backlit by the flames of the still burning warehouse stood what looked like a senior officer, his status given away by the ornate baton he was using to direct and motivate soldiers; some of the motivation appearing to be the boot-to-ass method. Order was quickly being reasserted, and soon the Marines would be discovered. Reaver triggered his mic, his voice only loud enough for the sub-vocals to pick up. “Alice, get their attention on the east side."

  Alice and Titan's answer came seconds later as excited, and panicked, shouts erupted from the eastern edge of the base. Many of the soldiers turned to see what the commotion was, but none moved until the roar of Titan's machine gun ripped through the darkening sky. The Marines couldn’t understand the officer's shouted words, but their meaning was clear, 'Find out what the fuck that is!' The Renks gathering near the officer shouted and charged toward the gunfire, leaving him with only a few attendees.

  All four were facing away from the Marines, toward the commotion caused by Alice and Titan's distraction, and there was no telling what caused the soldier nearest the officer to turn and look behind them. His eyes widened and his mouth opened to shout a warning, but Wolf's pistol shot snapped his head back before he could raise the alarm. As their comrade dropped to the ground, the officer and his last two guards spun to see what had happened. The guard furthest from him stopped mid-turn and was spun back the opposite direction as Reaver fired twice, the first clipping the Renk's shoulder, the second punching between his shoulder blades to explode his chest cavity. The third guard was too close for Space to get a clean shot, so he tackled him and clubbed him over the head with the butt of his pistol, stunning him and giving the blood-hungry Marine time to draw his combat blade and bury it to the hilt, twisting the blade as he drove it up under the soldier's ribs and into his heart and lungs.

  As Space tackled the last guard, Reaver and Wolf let their pistols fall to catch on the lanyards securing them to the Marines' vests and drew their coup-sticks, electricity crackling around the heads of both clubs.

  The Marines’ charge had been so rapid, so violent, and so unexpected that they had caught their target completely off guard. Even so, the officer was still able to block the downward swing of Reaver's club; with Wolf's, he wasn't so lucky. Her club struck him under the armpit and delivered a high-charged jolt straight to his nervous system, locking up the muscles of his body, preventing him from moving or sounding any shout for aid. By the time the shock had worn off, Reaver had bound his arms behind his back with a set of mag-cuffs and shoved a gag-lead into his mouth. Wolf was manhandling him by sliding her left arm under his arms and up behind the back of his head to grab hold of the gag’s straps; with this set-up he would go where she wanted, have no choice in the matter, and do it quietly.

  Reaver looked over and locked eyes with Space Case; his arms and chest were drenched in blood, but the cold light in his eyes told the Staff Sergeant that the fury was directed and under control. Reaver signaled for Space to take point, with Wolf and their captive in the middle, Reaver took rear security. Holstering their pistols, Reaver and Space Case swung their rifles from behind their backs where they'd stowed them for the charge on the enemy officer; Wolf had her pistol back in her hand and her rifle still slung. Reaver triggered his mic. “Package secured. Exfil in progress."

  Alice's strained voice was the first to answer, Titan's weapon firing in brief controlled bursts sharper through the earbud than the rumble it echoed with when heard from a distance. “Copy. We've got a bit of a situation over here."

  Reaver took a quick look around and realized that the remaining soldiers within the base had focused their attention toward Alice and Titan's distraction, giving his team a clear path out of the base. "Bull, you and Quinn get over to Titan and Alice, get back to the rally point. I'll do what I can to get an extraction bird in here." Reaver had designated an open area near where the Recon squad had entered the docks proper as a rally point to fall back to, in the event the squad wasn't moving as a unit.

  "On it, Boss," was Bull's response, and then silence over the radio. Reaver knew that the two Marines would be busting their asses to get to their squadmates' position, both to lend a helping hand to their comrades in arms and to get in on the fun. Recon never considered themselves cut off or surrounded; they saw themselves as holding ground in a target rich environment, and the targets had nowhere to go.

  As Reaver flipped his transmit switch to the external net, the volume of enemy fire from the area around Alice and Titan's position increased. Without dedicated air support to his mission, the chances of being able to call in a Hawk weren't the best in the world but asking never hurt anyone. “Net call, net call. This is Dragon Two-Zero requesting immediate Hawk support, Craxus harbor." Releasing the transmit button, Reaver signaled for Space Case to pick up the pace. Wolf was having no trouble keeping the Renk officer moving; forcing his head forward, the man had to keep his legs moving as directed by the Amazon or risk tumbling face first to the street if she released the straps locked behind his head.

  The assault team, along with their pri
soner, had passed the alleyway they had begun their assault from when Bull's voice came over the radio. “Linked up. Working our way to the RP now." The enemy's weapons fire from the east side of the base had slackened, though shouts could be heard as they attempted to coordinate an organized search and made sporadic shots, an attempt at recon by fire.

  All hell broke loose moments later as a shout went up behind Reaver, who turned to see a group of lights piercing the darkness and following his team. Excited shouts called attention to the assault team's presence in the open street. His weapon had risen instinctively as he had turned and three rounds snapped out in a quick, controlled burst. One of the lights fell, and the others scattered, driven to seek cover by the untimely demise of their comrade. "Bounce, Marines! They know we got one of theirs." Reaver snapped over the squad net, as he turned to sprint after Wolf and Space Case, enemy shots hissing through the air around him.

  Reaver caught up to Wolf, the prisoner having started to struggle and slow her progress. Dropping his rifle to hang from its sling, Reaver slipped his right arm up the prisoner's back, parallel to Wolf's, and the two Marines increased their pace, the prisoner's feet kicking futilely at the ground. His earbud crackled and came to life with a new voice. “Dragon Two-Zero, Raider Three-One, flight of two. Seven mikes from the harbor, can you hold?"

  As they ran, Reaver used his left hand to trigger the transmit switch on his rifle. “We'll have to. LZ mark will be strobe, and LZ will be cherry. Seven and a package." Releasing the switch, Reaver and Wolf passed Space Case, who had halted his forward dash and spun, his weapon coming up to snap off two bursts of three shots each at their pursuers. Again, the soldiers behind them dove for cover, allowing the Marines to increase the distance between them. Space swiftly rose and followed his teammates, easily keeping pace with them, their footfalls echoing off the surrounding warehouses.