After covering Davis’ withdrawal, the walker and her crew made their way east and found the Red Light was pulling back. Their duty done, they departed the battleground without difficulty.
Wanting to run diagnostics before the ordnance section reloaded the vehicle with ammo, the pair inside waited for the tech-n-mechs to hook up their gear.
For the second time that night, the field phone startled Jackson and Rivers.
“If you’re looking for walker support, you’ll have to wait,” Jackson said into the handset.
“We already got it,” the voice of Warrant Officer Carrie Nash said. “I’m speaking for Napier as well. They told us you two hung it out there for us. Drew fire while they dug us out. Like it or not, Sergeant Jackson, you and Rivers have a couple of friends now.”
Jacks snorted. “I think Myles and me can fit you in. We’ve both lost a few the last couple of days. Heard you took down a tank.”
“We did… and made ourselves a target.”
“You took down a tank that would’ve killed a bunch of our troopers. You did fine and I’m glad to see you got out okay."
“Between you and the grunts hanging it out there for us, yeah, we made it out with nothing worse than bruises. We have some new pals among the ground-pounders now too. Keep your ass out of trouble so we can thank you in style down the line. Nash out.”
Myles smiled as his partner replaced the handset in its cradle and shook his head. “I guess you had that one all wrong, Jacks.”
Jackson scowled before laughing. “Shut it, rook. Let’s go see Davis when we’re done here. I don’t want him forgetting he owes us.”
The little amount of fire that had struck Lunatic Red had caused nothing but some cosmetic blemishes and all of the checks came back nominal. Recalibrating all three weapons on the walker was last. With their machine ready to do battle once the ammo supply was replenished, the two left their vehicle in care of the ordnance troopers and went for fresh air and a walk to stretch their legs.
They learned all of the infantry units were a fair distance from the motor section position and knowing it was unwise to hike through the dark in a red zone, they elected to check on some of their acquaintances through the personnel system.
For Myles, he was happy to see his four remaining classmates were all listed as serving and still with their assigned units.
With many more comrades in the unit than his loader, Jackson expected to find at least some of those he knew were wounded or killed. His inquiry met his expectations. Several wounded and one Corporal Davis of Sergeant Knight’s platoon listed as KILLED IN ACTION.
Despite Jackson’s flippant comment, “The cheap son of a bitch died just so he didn’t have to buy me one,” Myles saw the same distant look Jacks had displayed before, but he soon returned to his normal self.
The pair went back to the motor section’s bivouac to catch some sleep.
. . .
The Road to Victory and Defeat
. . .
For the troopers under Hawkwood’s command, morning began long before the sun made an appearance. If the deception conducted by the Red Light and its allies had been convincing, Keen Steel would be rolling as soon as there was light enough to see clearly.
Reconnaissance patrols from both sides had sparred during the night with few casualties. As time progressed it became clear neither side sought a decisive action in the dark and as the night wore on what few fights occurred were Keen Steel probes seeking the positions and strength of Red Light troopers atop the ridge. When dawn approached even these sporadic engagements petered off as Keen Steel seemed to be satisfied with maintaining small watch positions near the crest of the ridge, a fact that encouraged Hawkwood and his senior leaders.
Captain Posey’s ordnance section had been hard at work distributing ammunition and anti-tank weaponry to those that would need it while his engineers worked through the night to hinder the advance of Keen Steel armored vehicles that would be coming. Red Light vehicle crews had taken the time to ensure that their machines were fully ready along with their armaments while Senior Sergeant Brown’s tech troopers repaired every vehicle that could be made serviceable. With losses of several tracks assigned to infantry platoons, replacements came from the support tracks, their rear bays quickly converted to carry troops if needed.
Well before the sun colored the horizon, the members of the Red Light Company moved to their positions and knew Savon and Carmag were doing the same. With plans and contingencies in place, the units awaited Keen Steel’s move.
. . .
Watching the road south in the growing brightness of early morn, Captain Posey was tired from the night’s work, but tension negated any thoughts of sleep. Even though Red Light troopers were positioned to warn of the Keen Steel armored column’s approach, he still kept watch because it provided a diversion from worrying about what was to come.
He was immensely proud of his engineering troopers. Their work began as the rest of the company pulled back from the bridge, felling trees to act as barriers across the road leading north. Knowing such crude measures would at best merely delay the sure to come armored force, it was hoped it might reinforce the illusion of the Red Light Company’s desperation.
Once done, the real work began. Stringing felling charges on large trees and carefully placing charges in the road was the first order, but the big job was building the barricade that would block the road stoutly enough to hinder even the largest vehicles Keen Steel fielded.
Selecting trees, felling and moving them with recovery vehicles was the first stage. Excavating dirt followed once the trees were in place. Requiring help from all available troopers, the mercs worked in shifts to ensure all but the engineers received time to sleep. The art of turning wood and dirt into a barrier capable of stopping all but the heaviest of Keen Steel’s armor was the heart of Hawkwood’s plan. Using combat engineering skills honed through years of toil, Posey’s troopers had done well. With emplacements that could endure large amounts of fire to protect those that would man the positions and provide hull down cover for the two Rats, the roadblock was also part fortress. Having labored in the dark under the noses of Keen Steel recon units without detection, it was now up to Posey to see their efforts were worth it.
Lying prone next to one of his engineer sergeants, Posey knew his performance could lose the battle to come before it even started. With the responsibility of triggering felling charges planted on trees and hollowing explosives under the road, the timing of their detonation was important. Too early would provide impediments to the armored column’s approach, but would restrict them before they reached the kill zone the company had waiting for them. Too late would be disastrous and those members of the Red Light to the north would be overwhelmed.
The solution is simple, Posey thought. Do it correctly.
“Don’t fret it, sir,” the sergeant whispered. “It’s just a demolition job. Something you’ve done a hundred times.”
“My worry is that obvious?” Posey replied.
“If you weren’t worried, I’d be worried.”
Posey laughed silently. “Then you needn’t worry.”
. . .
Lee Brennan placed the launcher tube on his shoulder after passing his two AA60 rifle grenades to Curt and watched as his teammate placed them next to six others on the ground in front of him.
Feeling anxious about the attacks on the armored column, Brennan silently drummed his fingers on his thigh.
“That’ll pass when it’s game time,” Bastrop whispered from his position nearby. Having returned to Hooton’s squad after medical treatment the night before, Brennan was happy to have him back as were Curt and Perk. “Take your time and land some hits,” Hank continued. “That’s it. Perk and me’ll keep any grunts from interfering.”
“And what if a battle tank takes an interest in us?” Perkins whispered. “Our choppers aren’t much good against treaded monsters.”
Hank smiled. “We get as low and as small a
s we can if that happens. Don’t be surprised if you discover you have a religious side manifest itself just then as well.”
Bastrop’s three subordinates laughed soundlessly.
. . .
Sergeant Fell grimaced in irritation at the repetitive sound to his right. Finally having had enough, he backhanded Briggs on the left boot. “Enough with the tapping feet.”
“Sorry, Sarge,” the gunner said from his place in the turret. “I hate waiting and I’m worried about my pals.”
“I get it, kiddo. Just do it in a non-irritating manner, okay? Your pals have jobs to do and we have ours.”
“I know, but most of them are about to take on armored vehicles with trooper mounted weapons. We’re just sitting here in the rear.”
Fell laughed bitterly. “They have weapons that can kill armor. We don’t. Worry about us instead.”
“They have something planned for Nasty Niner-Six?”
“No, no plans, not for us at least. Oh, they’ll send out Hobo to erect a broadcast array up north, but mundane and safe tasks like that aren’t for the likes of us and Nasty Niner-Six. No. They’ll come up with something on the fly… something where our death and destruction is a distinct possibility. They always do.”
“They’d send us after opfor armor? You’re joking, right Sergeant Fell?” When Briggs received no answer, he asked again and got the same response. Maneuvering to look down on the stone-faced sergeant, he said, “You were just joking. Sarge?”
. . .
“We’re heavy on anti-vehicle loads,” Myles said as he looked at the round counters before he closed the hatch. “That means we’re going hunting I hope.”
“Better than being hunted,” Jacks said. “Keen Steel has a load of armor coming our way and don’t forget they have walkers that have yet to be seen. Were I a gamblin’ man, I’d wager we see them today.”
“Two Rats and Lunatic Red against all that armor,” Rivers mused. “That’s a rough task.”
“Rough? Impossible if it was the case, but it’s not. Unless Keen Steel breaks out of the trees, we have a pack of grunts armed with launchers and rifle grenades that will have their say. There’s not a lot of maneuver room between those trees and those tankers know it. Today, we’re the cavalry and Lunatic Red is our steed. Trouble rears its head and we ride in and save the day. Simple.”
Myles laughed. “Simple? You are a master of redefining words.”
“Just trying to make it easy to swallow, Mister Pessimist. I’ll put it another way: when this day is all said and done, we’ll be broke, dead, or big damned heroes.”
. . .
Corporal Hicks stopped and knelt, his three troopers immediately following suit. Among the southernmost Red Light elements, their isolated position near the crest of the ridge put them in a vulnerable situation, but only if they were found out.
“Sam, watch south,” Hicks whispered. “I’ll cover the west.”
Going prone, the two snipers and their shadows soon disappeared from sight. With the ridge thoroughly covered in interdictors, only the eyes or ears of their opponents might locate them. With so much felled timber and leafy branches, each trooper knew that if they practiced good fieldcraft, that wasn’t going to happen.
With Bellvue performing the same function to the west of the road, the snipers planned a rendezvous later in the day.
As the sky above the tree cover lightened, the sound of armored vehicle tracks came from the south as expected. The vehicles were not Hicks’ responsibility, troopers near the road had that covered. A 60mm mortar would fire a starlight shell through an opening in the trees to alert those on the road ambush. The shell burst was loud enough to hear on its way up and the sound it made when the parachute deployed would provide ample warning.
The eight members of the sniper team were placed to cover any infantry incursions through the woods. Certain they had attrited Keen Steel’s ground pounders over the past two days, there was no way to tell how large the reduction had been. If an infantry force were to move over the ridge rather than accompany the armor column, plans would need to change and the snipers and field intelligence specialists spread along possible approaches would need to report their findings.
With enemy patrols between them and the main Red Light positions, the snipers would also need to use stealth to return to their unit, but before that, they would engage any force coming their way in an attempt to slow them. The sound of armor moving meant they must be vigilant.
. . .
Senior Sergeant Forrester and his squad leaders stayed close to their troopers. One premature shot could cost the Red Light Company dearly.
Betting Keen Steel sought to pass through the trees as fast as they could with infantry escort, the Red Light risked a blitz drive blowing through their ambush and overwhelming those at the roadblock set to contain the column in the trees. Another risk was that Keen Steel would move slowly and methodically with infantry scouring the woods on each side of the road as the armor rolled north. Either would disrupt the Red Light’s plans.
Feeling confident Keen Steel believed they had hurt the Red Light Company far worse than was reality, they stuck to the plan and hoped defeat did not come suddenly.
“Remember what our mission is,” Sergeant Hooton whispered as he passed back and forth along the portion of the kill zone his squad occupied. “We let the first vehicles pass. When the trees go down, we engage. Wait for the trees and put accurate fire on your targets. A miss is a wasted opportunity that might come back to bite us. Take the time to aim.”
The cough of a light mortar preceded a hissing, spitting sound—the signal alerting those poised to ambush that the armored column was near. The shell popped above them and the hissing of the flare crawled across the sky as the faint wind blew it slowly eastward.
“Game time,” Hank whispered. “Forrester will get the party started. Curt, you kick it off for our team. Lee, you fire anytime after the first rifle grenade is on its way. Remember, we’re less than a hundred meters from the road. You each have clear lanes to fire down, so ignore anything not in your lane. I’ll redirect you if needed. Hit’em hard but do it fast. If the heavies start cutting into us, we head west as planned and make for the rally point. Everyone got it?”
His three troopers signaled the affirmative.
The quiet and high-pitched sound of a wheeled vehicle caught their ears first, followed not long after by the sound of soft tires humming on the pavement just before a pair of recon cars rolled past.
In less than a minute the rattle and clanking of vehicle tracks reached them, armored cars followed closely by light tanks similar to the Red Light’s RATs.
Brennan looked at his teammates and saw all three stared steely-eyed at the road until Perkins looked his way. The two smiled at each other before looking to the road again.
The ground seemed to shake a little at the approach of a heavy tank and all those waiting to strike from the woods knew the ambush was about to be sprung. As Brennan checked one more time to see if his launcher was armed and the reloads were where he placed them, he noticed Curt patting his rifle grenades nervously while Hank and Perk eyed their machine guns.
It was only a matter of time now.
Placed on a stretch of road that ran northwest beyond a bend in the road, the ambush was intended to limit the amount of firepower Keen Steel might bring to bear. With vehicles south of the curve out of sight and constricted by trees, those in the ambush force hoped it was enough to prevent any more force than they already faced arriving and overwhelming them. To help insure this didn’t happen, another ambush force was positioned to cover the bend. Once the ambush commenced, they were to fire on the armored column for a brief time before fading into the trees and head north to join Hawkwood’s force where the road exited the trees.
Keen Steel infantry came in sight at the same time as the lead armored vehicles, a pair of armored personnel carriers followed closely by a pair of tanks, one of them a behemoth of more than eighty tonnes
.
Sergeant Hooton’s attention was directed at the Keen Steel troopers. Walking faster than prudent given the possibility of ambush, he knew it was the armor that dictated the pace, not the infantry.
Tread-heads don’t get it, he thought. Even though they want to fly down the road to escape the trees they also know they need grunts to make it through. But that desire to get through quickly makes them rush, makes the grunts march instead of stalk, and if we do it right that’s going to cost them... all of them.
The tension along the thin line of Red Light mercs was high. Watching opposing force troopers looking into the trees less than a hundred paces away brought the feeling they were about to be detected.
Brennan didn’t worry about the grunts seeing him. It was the heavy weapons on the vehicles that he was concerned about. Instructor Sergeant Verro had drilled an odd but simple truth into all of his charges: Don’t stare. Verro swore by all he believed in that if you looked directly at someone long enough, that person would notice and unconsciously look at you. If that person was a trooper seeking to kill you, why would you ever let him know of your existence if you could prevent it? “Looking through your sights, that’s when you look at’em,” he said. “Otherwise look off and watch in the peripheral.” Brennan didn’t know if what the battle-scarred trainer said was true, but he wasn’t going to put it to the test.
Glancing down at his launcher tube he thought, My job is to kill armor. Ignore the ground-pounders.
. . .
Captain Posey rotated a portion of the safety covers that guarded the demolition switches from accidental activation. Returning his focus to the road, he saw the Keen Steel reconnaissance vehicles come into view and speed past. Drawing no fire, Posey breathed a little easier. Concerned that some trigger happy trooper might blow the operation, he returned to worrying about his own role.
Another small group rolled through soon after, armored cars and light tanks or so it appeared. Drawing no fire, another moment of stress passed.
Free Company- Red Zone Page 27
