by Daniel Gibbs
“Four, this is One. You got your drone with you?” MacDonald said across the commlink.
“Affirmative, One.”
“Now’s a good a time as any to deploy it.”
“Roger that,” Mata replied.
“Didn’t realize we had a tactical drone,” Ruth said while she was reloading her battle rifle.
“I was saving it for a rainy day.”
“It’s past raining, Master Chief. It's hailing,” Harrell interjected as he fired off a long burst from the machine gun he carried.
The drone began to whine as its rotors spun up. Ruth saw it zoom up from the roof, and a few moments later, a League soldier behind cover screamed, hit by a bullet fired by it. The enemy began to fill the sky with blind fire and tracers, trying to get a lucky shot in. There was a loud whoosh, and a trail of flames leapt into the air; the telltale sign of a man-portable anti-aircraft missile. Moments later, there was a flash and explosion.
“One, they got the drone,” Mata reported, confirming what Ruth already suspected and she was sure everyone else had to.
“Damnit,” MacDonald said, his anger and frustration showing. “We need to push out of this. A sustained firefight on the street isn’t a winning strategy.”
“I’ve got an idea, Master Chief,” Ruth said as she flipped the toggle on her trigger to switch to control the grenade launcher mounted to the barrel of her battle rifle. “How about we just make a new hole and exfil that way?”
“Which one you thinking?” MacDonald asked.
“The big one there,” Ruth replied, pointing toward a large structure twenty meters away. “It’s big enough we can lose these guys in it.”
“Fire in the hole, LT.”
With a grin, Ruth brought the launcher up and squeezed the trigger. A 40mm grenade blew out of the firing tube and exploded against the plasticrete building façade. When the smoke cleared, she could see a human-sized opening blown open. “Pay dirt, Master Chief.”
“Two, Five, cover us!” MacDonald barked, rattling off a three-round burst at the Leaguers.
Harrel and Ahmad stepped up, firing long bursts from their weapons to encourage the enemy to keep their heads down. MacDonald added to the maelstrom with a smoke grenade that obscured the battlefield. Ruth, Meissner, and Rostami dashed through the smoke and into the building, followed closely by the rest of the team.
Ruth triggered the night vision optics within the HUD as the room they’d entered was pitch black. The reward was an eerie, green-tinted view of a large warehouse-like structure. It contained dozens of military vehicles—mostly troop transports.
“Heh, anyone want a set of wheels? Got the League’s finest here,” Harrell commented through the commlink.
“Stay frosty,” MacDonald warned. “Two, Six, cover our six and discourage our friends outside from pursuing us in here.”
Ruth continued to press forward, sweeping her battle rifle in front of her as she crept between rows of parked transports and small all-terrain vehicles.
“Got it, boss,” Meissner replied.
“Holy crap,” Rostami said. “Guess what I found?”
“A shrine to the Virgin Mary?” MacDonald cracked.
Ruth never ceased to be amazed at how the commandos could keep up good humor and a steady stream of wisecracks, even in the craziest of combat situations. “A Leaguer ready to turn off their satellite defense network,” she interjected.
“Even better… I’ve got a Zhukov main battle tank sitting in front of me.”
“A League tank?” Ruth asked, surprised. “Why would they need tanks in a place like this?”
“Just in case an uprising started? Who knows, who cares,” MacDonald rejoined. “Team, all except Two and Six, form on Rostami. We need to figure out if it’s operational, and if so, commandeer it.”
“Lieutenant, think you could look around for the keys?” Rostami asked.
“What the heck do the keys to a tank look like?” Ruth replied, annoyed. “Where would we even find them? Can’t you pry the door open, Chief?”
Snickering laughter filled the commlink. “It’s a snipe hunt, LT,” Ahmad finally said. “We don’t have time for such childishness.”
Ruth rounded a corner to see Rostami standing next to a large tank covered in green camouflage. Its size dwarfed the other vehicles parked next to it. “Keys to a tank, cute,” she said quietly.
“You have no idea how many variations we have on that,” Rostami said as he pulled a device out of his bag.
“Oh, I can imagine. We’ve got our own set in the fleet. What are you doing?”
“Cracking the biometric security panel here. Then I’ll use an ICE stick on the main operating system for the thing.”
“ICE stick?” Ruth asked, her voice betraying her bewilderment.
“Quick hacking tool. Military issue.”
“Got it. I’ll take perimeter security while you work this thing,” Ruth commented.
“Thanks, LT.”
“One, this is Four,” Mata’s voice came in loud and clear through the commlink. “Be advised, you have multiple platoon strength enemy forces gathering outside of the building you’re in. We’re unable to engage.”
“Acknowledged, Four,” MacDonald replied. “Rostami, get the tank unlocked, now!”
“We’re in!” Rostami shouted. Ruth glanced over her shoulder to see him fist-pumping the air.
“Don’t get too excited, Chief.”
“Hey, it’s not every day you get to crack the biometrics on a League tank.”
“Valid point,” Ruth said, chuckling to herself in spite of their circumstances. She worked her way back to the tank and took up position next to it while he climbed in the hatch.
MacDonald and Ahmad jogged up, battle rifles dropped in their one-point slings. “I heard you yell, Rostami. We good or what?” MacDonald questioned, his voice tight and harsh.
“One freaking minute, Master Chief!” Rostami called out from inside the tank, his voice echoing inside the cavernous warehouse. Sustained automatic gunfire sounded, followed by multiple bursts that Ruth identified as coming from a CDF issue battle rifle.
“One, this is Two. We just discouraged ingress by the enemy, but we can’t hold them. Strongly suggest we get the tank up here or get the hell out of this building before everything goes sideways,” Harrell said through the commlink.
“Rostami!” MacDonald practically screamed. Almost like something out of an action holomovie, the tank’s external lights came on, and its electric motor turned on with a quiet but distinct whirring. “About time,” he muttered. “Everyone inside, now! Two, Six, hold fast. We’ll be there in a minute.”
“Ladies first,” Ahmad said, drawing a snort from Ruth.
“There’s a cargo area in the rear if memory serves,” MacDonald said. “Lieutenant, sit back there. Ahmad, take the gunner position. I’ll take the commander’s seat. Rostami, you get to drive.”
“I’ve never driven a tank before.”
“First time for everything. Just imagine it’s a new drone.”
Ruth rolled her eyes and climbed in the top hatch. The interior of the tank was claustrophobic, to say the least. The control chamber was cramped, with monitors, controls, and cables everywhere.
Directly to the front of the main turret was the driver’s compartment, where Rostami sat. “Hey, LT.”
“Nice work, Chief,” Ruth replied as she crawled back into the passenger area. MacDonald was right; there was room for at least four people and some gear behind the turret. She set her battle rifle into a holder that accepted the weapon after some fiddling. Another hatch led upwards directly to her right, she mentally noted. Just in case I have to bail out quickly.
“Okay, settle in, folks. It’s going to be a wild ride,” MacDonald said, almost sounding giddy.
Ruth felt the tank begin to move, slowly at first, then gaining momentum as Rostami figured out the controls. I’m not sitting back here for the entire trip like a schoolgirl. She pushed off t
he seat and stuck her head into the control area. “Miss me?”
“Those aren’t two words I’m liable to ever use regarding you, Lieutenant,” MacDonald said with a snort.
Ruth cracked a grin. “Back at you, Master Chief. So what’s the plan?”
“Wait for Rostami to stop driving this thing like a ninety-year-old woman,” MacDonald deadpanned to an eye-roll from Ruth. “Then pick up Mata and your Amish friend. After that, we could cruise around the base on our way to the control center, blow things up, act like hooligans, and generally cause mayhem on the Leaguers. Then we can call the fleet and get the heck out of here.”
Ruth laughed. “You’ve got the acting-like-hooligans part down pat.”
“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” Rostami hollered from his seat up front.
“By all means, then, Chief,” MacDonald ordered.
“This is your captain speaking. Please ensure that your tray tables are in their upright and locked position… keep all limbs inside the tank until it comes to a complete and final stop. And don’t forget, in case we get blown up by the Leaguers, stick your head between your legs and kiss your rear-end goodbye!”
Ruth, along with everyone else, laughed out loud at Rostami’s joke. Even he could be heard snickering across the internal communication relay. It took less than a minute for them to reach the area of the building that the rest of the team occupied; she watched through the monitor as Harrell and Meissner ran up to the tank. While they worked the hatch in the rear compartment, MacDonald used the anti-personnel automatic rail gun to discourage any pursuit by the massed group of enemy soldiers that waited just outside of the hole they’d previously blown in the side of the building.
Ruth looked behind her as both men dropped into the passenger compartment, quickly securing the exit. “Nice to see you again, LT,” Meissner said, grinning. “It was getting a bit hectic out there.”
“Yeah, like this entire half-assed op,” Harrell groused. “No offense, LT.”
“None taken, Senior Chief,” Ruth replied, looking back toward the control center.
“Rostami, back us up, then build up as much speed as you can,” MacDonald ordered. “Punch through and get us out of here.”
“Yes, Master Chief!”
First, they glided backward, jerking around as Rostami maneuvered around rows of parked vehicles. Then they lurched forward as he poured on the speed. From the readouts on the commander’s HUD that Ruth was watching, it appeared they were up to about fifty kilometers an hour and on a direct path to impact the interior/exterior wall of the building. There was a bone-jarring thud as the armored mammoth went through the plasticrete like a hot knife through butter; a moment later, the external camera showed open street and a whole mess of Leaguers. On those nearest to the tank, she could make out expressions of bewilderment and shock on their faces.
“Those bastards you can shoot, Ahmad!” MacDonald yelled into the turret.
“Lima Charlie, Master Chief,” Ahmad answered. The turret quickly rotated around, the primary gun shifting to point directly at the blob of hostiles. Most began to run away as fast as their legs would carry them, while those who were thinking on their feet ran away at right angles.
“Alpha Mike Foxtrot, suckers,” MacDonald said as the gun fired; the shell hit in the middle of the fleeing Leaguers, causing Ruth to look away. “Mata, your lift has arrived,” he continued.
Meissner stood up in the passenger compartment and opened the top hatch. A couple of minutes later, even with sustained gunfire echoing, Mata and Susanna rappelled down the side of the building they’d been perched on.
Ruth found herself incredibly impressed by the young woman’s poise. She’s grown up a bit quick. Kind of like I had to. Mata put her between him and the tank, shielding her from wild Leaguer return fire. Once they were both inside the vehicle, Meissner pulled the hatch down and dogged it shut.
“We’re clear back here, Master Chief,” Ruth said, projecting her voice forward.
“Rostami, step on it!” MacDonald ordered.
As the tank raced forward, its electric engine straining and screaming from the maxed-out acceleration, Ruth thought he didn’t need much encouragement.
“I’ll admit, Master Chief, you guys are fun in a crazy sort of way,” Ruth commented.
“Look at that, a compliment from an officer,” MacDonald shot back. A pinging, metallic noise began to echo through the vehicle, getting louder and more frequent by the second.
“What is that?” Ruth asked, confused.
“That, LT, is the sound of the enemy firing small arms against our armor,” Harrell replied. “Quite ineffective.”
“But annoying,” Ahmad complained over the intercom.
MacDonald reached over and flipped a switch on the panel that showed the forward view from the IR camera; it switched to an aft view. Several pursuit 4X4s were evident, with Leaguers standing up in the passenger seats and firing at them.
“Ahmad, would you inform those guys they’re following us a bit too close?”
Almost everyone in the tank snickered at MacDonald’s choice of words, but Ahmad didn’t miss a beat, all business and professional in his tone. “Roger that, Master Chief.”
Ruth heard the turret turning, its motor whirring in action above them. There was a blast of smoke and flame in the external shot as the main gun fired. The middle 4X4 was there one second and gone the next. The other two swerved out of the way, the leftmost vehicle running into a building, while the one on the right came to a stop and its crew ran for their lives. Another high-explosive round erupted from the extended barrel; it turned the empty 4X4 into burning slag. MacDonald flipped the screen back to the forward view, and the turret rotated once more.
“That’s gonna leave a mark,” Meissner said to laughter from the rest of the team.
Ruth looked back and shook her head at him, unable to suppress a grin herself. I shouldn’t be taking such pleasure in killing these men… but it feels good to put some pain on them for what they’ve done to Freiderwelt and so many other planets. She noticed Susanna appeared uncomfortable; her arms were crossed in front of her, and she was frowning. Ruth got up and sat down next to her. “You okay?”
“I… guess. I’m scared,” Susanna confessed.
“Nothing wrong with that. Like I told you before, I was terrified the first time I fought the Leaguers, and we were just a bunch of kids and civilians with little training. This time, we’ve got the CDF’s finest spacewalkers doing the heavy lifting.”
“If you ain’t spacewalking, you ain’t shit!” Harrell roared before slapping Susanna on the back of her armor. “Not doing bad for a pacifist, little lady.”
“Knock it off, Chief,” Ruth said a bit testily.
“All in good fun, LT.”
“Hey, you may not realize this, being a big bad commando, but some of us didn’t come out of the womb clutching a rifle and armor,” Ruth replied. Okay, dial it back. I'm far too defensive here.
Susanna spoke up, surprising both. “I’m fine. Really. I volunteered for this mission.”
An alarm shrieked, interrupting the discussion, and the tank swerved to one side. “Shit!” MacDonald yelled. “That was an active threat denial system. Leaguers are shooting anti-armor missiles at us.” As if to underscore the point, the alarm sounded again, and the after-effects of a nearby explosion reverberated through the vehicle.
“Where the heck is it coming from?” Ruth asked.
“They’re firing on us from the rooftops,” Ahmad said. “I can’t get them all with the rail gun.” The tank shuddered as it fired its main gun.
MacDonald grunted. “Harrell, Meissner, get topside and put some rounds downrange on these idiots. I don’t think this crappy League tech will keep working,”
“Right, boss,” Meissner called out as he sprang out of his seat, opening the hatch and shoving it upward. He climbed up quickly, followed by Harrell.
Ruth looked at Susanna. “Stay here.”
“Wher
e are you going?”
“To deal with the jerks shooting up our ride,” Ruth replied with as quirky a look as she could muster, trying not to alarm the girl further. The last thing she needs to think about is how dead we’ll all be if one of those missiles connects.
“Be careful?”
“Always,” Ruth replied, grabbing her battle rifle and climbing out the hatch. As her head cleared its lip, she saw tracer fire raining around them and bullets pinging off the sides of the tank. “Nice party you guys have going here,” she commented dryly and triggered the magnetic soles on her suit to ensure she wouldn’t fall off the moving tank.
“Only thing we’re missing is one of those old school disco balls,” Harrell said between firing long bursts from his squad automatic weapon. “I’ve got this side, LT. Help out Meissner. It’s a target-rich environment over there.”
“Got it, Senior Chief,” Ruth said, shifting her focus to the left side of the tank. The sounds of battle echoed as she aimed at a Leaguer who held a missile launcher and fired a three-round-burst into his center mass. The man toppled backward, pulling the trigger as he died; thankfully, the missile roared up into the sky, nowhere near them. She crouched and steadied herself, searching for more tangos.
“You shoot good for a fleet officer,” Meissner said over the commlink.
“Thanks,” Ruth replied between firing bursts from her battle rifle. “Out of practice a bit.”
“We’re two mikes out from our objective. Stay frosty,” MacDonald advised.
“I’m so frosty, if I got frostier, I’d freeze and shatter, Master Chief,” Ruth retorted, her tone cocky.
“LT’s losing her officer shine,” Harrell said. “There’s hope for her yet!”
“Oh crap!”—someone—Ruth couldn’t quite make out the voice— said as what sounded like a shuttle roared overhead, before exploding against the building next to them in a ball of flame. She looked to the left and saw another squat, black-painted League tank advancing toward them.
“Everyone back inside, now!” Ruth shouted, “We’re safer in there than we are exposed on the top of this thing.”
Harrell was the first one to drop down the hole, followed by Meissner and finally Ruth. As she entered the passenger compartment, the tank shuddered, the now familiar sign it was firing its main gun.
