Chapter 33
When we look back on the Heart of Granite’s life, will we celebrate the many victories, lament those lost in combat and hold her up as a worthy flag carrier? Or will her history be forever tainted by the ‘Halloran Incident’. I fear the media have already made up their minds.
Nicola Avery, Commander, Heart of Granite
‘How long have we been out here?’ asked Sidhu.
‘Hours,’ said Reynolds.
‘Right, glad I asked because I really wasn’t sure. Can you be more specific?’
‘Something wrong with your mission timer?’
‘No, I just wanted to hear your voice.’
Both men were lying down flat with their fists clamped around the imagers’ legs, trying to keep them steady. They’d changed position a dozen times already as cramp, sand and the wind caused varying levels of discomfort. There was a sense of worth in it though, thought Sidhu. The screens on both the radar and thermal imager remained happily devoid of the signs of enemy advancement. While that might have been because the storm blocked everything out, it was marginally more likely to be because there was nothing out there.
‘I need to take a shit,’ said Reynolds.
‘You smell like you already took it.’
‘Funny.’
‘No really, not even the filters and gale force winds can wholly mask the odours you’re pumping out.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course not, idiot. So go squat. Just not so far away you get lost or so close I can see the steam rising.’
Reynolds stood up and brushed himself down, pointlessly.
He braced himself against the storm and at least had the sense to move off downwind.
‘Keep the TI upright, will you?’ said Reynolds, his voice crackling in the gale.
‘I’m sure I can temporarily spare a limb.’ Sidhu rolled over and sat up in between the two pieces of woefully unstable equipment, feeling the full force of the wind beat around his head. He set a firm hand on the top of each. From the darkness, Reynolds cleared his throat. ‘Hey, dump-boy, go off-com. I don’t need to hear your straining.’
‘Copy that.’
The com went quiet and Sidhu took a long and relaxing breath. He focused on the roaring and whistling of the wind, the thrash of sand on his helmet and goggles and the forces across his body. It was amazing. He didn’t want the night to end. He was cold, sore and tired but, Holy Father, he was alive out here at the mercy of nature; unlike their miserable, parasitic existence inside the HoG.
Sidhu’s com crackled.
‘Com check delta.’ The voice was faint, swam in and out and a bit but it was good enough. ‘This is Meyer at station three, sound off in turn.’
‘Sidhu, station one. You’re a bit quiet but you’re there.’ ‘Copy Sid. Station two, come in.’
‘Station two, Ganeef hearing you L and C.’
‘Copy, Ganeef. Station four, you out there?’ asked Meyer.
The com washed and hissed in Sidhu’s ear. ‘Copy, Patel, hearing you L and C too. Station five, let’s hear you.’ More static. ‘You’re really soft, Kapetic. You need to boost. ‘Now listen up: Horvald is on tour, currently between three and two and heading your way, Sid. When he gets to you, take five in the lee and get some fluids and solids in.’
Sidhu laughed. ‘Sorry, boss, couldn’t help it. School boy humour . ..’
‘What, exactly?’
‘Just that Reynolds is downwind making room, so to speak.’ ‘Well I hope he’s finished before the Maputo steps on his sandy ass. Sunrise in three hours and ten minutes. Technically.
But don’t get your hopes up.’
‘When are we going home, boss?’ asked Ganeef. ‘When the wind drops enough for us to weigh the kit down.
Simple, eh?’
Sidhu’s radar came alive. Pulsing, glowing points of green light. Six at least . . . no, eight.
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘I have incoming on a bearing of one-nine-seven. Multiple contacts, I’m counting eight so far. Distance, three klicks and closing at speed . . . basilisks. Basilisks on the ground.’
‘Copy, Sid. Hold position, low profile. Station two, can you confirm?’
‘Negative, Captain,’ said McCarthy who was partnering Ganeef. ‘I’ll ping as soon as we get a contact.’
‘That goes for all stations,’ said Meyer. ‘Horvald, best speed to station one and stand by to extract. Go in dark, weapons free.’
‘Copy, Captain,’ said Horvald. ‘I’ll be coming up on your six, Sid. Hang tight.’
‘Don’t be too quick,’ said Sid. ‘I fancy nailing some big game . . . just polishing the carbine now.’
‘That better not be a euphemism,’ said Ganeef, her com crackling badly.
‘Come over here and find out,’ said Sid.
‘Stow the shit, Sid,’ said Meyer. ‘Status update.’ Sidhu hadn’t taken his eyes off the radar. The basilisks were at two klicks and moving in a tight, two-column formation, presumably suffering the same contact issues.
‘Still heading in like they’ve got sand-piercing headlights on. At two K and closing.’
‘Copy that, Sid,’ said Meyer. ‘Keep on open com. Are you jamming reciprocals?’
‘Technically,’ said Sidhu, seeing the enable light blinking comfortingly. ‘Mother only knows if it’s actually working.
Stand by . ..’
Sidhu frowned and looked at the radar. Still the TI screen showed nothing, meaning the basilisks were running dark.
Their formation was shifting. It was so hard to be sure on this ancient piece of kit but if he was reading it right . . . ‘We’re acquired. Station two, you should have them in a few moments. I’ve got to go and get Reynolds.’
‘Copy, Sid,’ said Meyer. ‘Horvald, step on it. All stations, eyes and ears, we have incoming on station one. Hold your positions, you’re too far away to help anyway. Be careful, Sid.’ ‘You know me, chief,’ said Sidhu, already moving in Reynolds’ direction and bringing his rifle bag from his back to across his chest.
‘Well, quite,’ said Meyer. ‘All stations, weapons free. Let’s be ready.’
Sidhu switched to his private com.
‘Reynolds, do you copy.’ Nothing but static. ‘Idiot.’ At least Reynolds wasn’t far. His heat signature swam into view after a few paces. He was still squatting.
‘Holy Mother, that must be some dump,’ said Sidhu. ‘Or serious constipation.’
Sidhu laughed into his breathing mask at the image of Reynolds straining away while the basilisks closed in, probably by scent. He had his rifle out and pushed the bag back over his shoulder. The Shavek SA-GL8 assault rifle had a sixty round clip, quick slap drop and reload and an eight pill micro-grenade launcher under the barrel. Bullets were armour-piercing and the grenades were AP-fragmentation types; very nasty and just the ticket for hunting Maf lizards. Shame the opposition had much the same kit, really.
Sidhu shook his head and forced himself to focus. The basilisks would be on them in a couple of minutes. He and Reynolds needed to clear out past their sensor equipment and hope to blend into the storm noise if they could. Big if. He moved up fast, running around so he was approaching Reynolds from the front. Three paces from Reynolds, the squatting man leapt up and began to scramble backwards.
Sidhu’s com sprang to life.
‘Contact, contact!’ yelled Reynolds. ‘Fuck me it’s come from nowhere. Do you copy, Sid?’
‘Yeah, buddy. It’s me. Calm down.’ Sidhu moved after Reynolds, stepping over the cooling signature of his mess. ‘Pull your strides up, get your Shavek handy and do it fast. We’ve got basilisks.’
‘Fuck,’ spat Reynolds. ‘You scared the shit out of me.’ ‘Someone had to hurry you up.’ Sidhu ran round behind Reynolds while he fumbled with his trousers. ‘I’ll sort your gun. You did grease itand seal it, didn’t you?’
‘No, I dipped it in cement before we left.’
‘Touchy.’
Sidhu pulled the rifle clear and gave i
t a cursory check. It felt as if the trigger and grenade mechanisms were well gunked and the bio-plastic casing around the magazine housing felt in reasonable nick. Not that he could be certain of much through his gloves and anyway, no weapon could be entirely sealed against weather like this.
He slapped the gun into Reynolds’ midriff. ‘Let’s go. Back to the imagers and beyond.’
With Reynolds’ hand on his shoulder, they made best pace across the shifting sands into the teeth of the gale. It was almost dreamlike. The open com triggered.
‘Sidhu, Meyer, status report.’
‘I’ve got Reynolds, sir. Heading to station one now. How far is Horvald?’
‘With you imminently. Take a bearing on station two and you’ll find him.’
‘Copy, sir.’ Sidhu shivered as if someone had walked over his grave. ‘Come on Reynolds, let’s pick up the p—’ A basilisk sprinted out of the mire of sand and night and Sidhu only saw it at the last second. The lizard’s jaws, full of needle-sharp teeth, lunged forwards, its head swinging left and right. Sidhu had time to register that he couldn’t hear a damn thing over the wind, the sand and the helmet tight to his head. He pushed Reynolds away hard, hoping at least one of them would escape the jaws, pounding feet and thrashing tail. He dived to the ground, meaning to roll to safety but the basilisk’s head caught him flush on the back of his right shoulder and tossed him into the air, almost certainly saving his life. Over the com, he heard Reynolds call out then make a noise like he’d been winded. Sidhu landed on his bruised shoulder and tumbled over and over. He couldn’t help but cry out before he slithered to a stop and pushed himself back to his feet, rifle still clutched in both gloved hands.
‘Meyer, Sidhu,’ he said over the open com. ‘We’ve been attacked. Single basilisk. No idea where it’s gone.’
‘I’ve got contacts on scope, Sid,’ said Ganeef from station two. ‘Incoming hard and spreading across our sensor arc towards you, Captain.’
‘Understood. Sid, condition?’
Sidhu checked his compass and began to head back towards station one where Reynolds might be. He thumbed the launcher and the enable light flashed under his forefinger. His shoulder hurt like buggery but he didn’t think it was broken. What he cared about now was his buddy.
‘Reynolds, do you copy?’
The open com was full of noise. ‘Incoming at one klick and closing fast,’ said Ganeef. ‘I have three contacts on our bead.
Two moremoving towards you, sir. They’ve either got our radar signature or can see our heat trace.’
‘Got to be the radar,’ said Meyer. ‘Kill the imagers, people, retreat to rally point alpha and regroup. Sidhu?’
‘Can’t find Reynolds, sir. He’s off com, no thermal. Still looking, sir.’
On a reflex, Sidhu dropped to the ground and rolled down a shallow decline. A basilisk, presumably the same one, sprinted past, its tail whipping over his head. He saw its shape in full this time, slate-grey against the dark and picked out a little by the sand hammering against its hide. They were bastards.
Single-seater killing machines the Tweakers had reckoned were only good for fast recon. There it stood; fifteen metres of sleek reptilian athlete, smooth skinned and ridiculously fast. ‘Reynolds!’ shouted Sidhu down his private com, just about remembering to trigger the broadcast mute though he still had their chatter in his ear.
‘They’re right on us,’ said Ganeef. ‘McCarthy, watch our nine. I can feel them.’
A reptilian barking roar fed through the com alongside McCarthy screaming. There was gunfire and Sidhu fancied he could see muzzle flashes through the storm.
‘McCarthy is down!’ shouted Ganeef. ‘Fucking thing took him in half. It’s gone into the night.’
‘Focus, Neef,’ said Meyer. ‘Get yourself clear.’
‘They’ve beaded us, sir,’ said Sidhu. ‘I’ve got one circling me.’
‘Those still clear, bug out now.’ Meyer’s voice was incredibly calm and measured, speaking into the blackness, trying to keep them altogether. ‘Sid, Neef, you’re trained for this. I’m coming to you. Horvald, pick up Sid. Get stuck in if you can. Provide the barrier.’
‘Negative, sir, permission to find Reynolds first,’ said Sidhu, watching the basilisk sprint off into the darkness but not believing for one second it was gone for good. He hoped it wasn’t; he wanted it.
‘Copy, Sid. Don’t you dare fucking die. That’s an order.
Right, Ganeef, I’m coming to you. Horvald, meet us at station two.’
‘Quicker if I pick you up, sir,’ said Horvald.
‘Negative. Protect Ganeef.’
Sidhu tuned down the open com, pushing his tongue against the centre stud in the com controls clipped behind his front teeth. It would reactivate when Meyer signalled him. Sidhu stayed in his fortunate dip in the sand, enjoying the relative calm as the gale blasted overhead, sending eddies and swirls of loose sand across his hiding place.
He gathered himself, checked his bearing, the waypoints and indicators set out on his head up display and moved out at a crouch, aware the basilisk and its rider could be watching him from the behind the cloak of the storm. He moved steadily on the bearing, his eyes straying to his right from where he felt any attack might come.
Mercifully, he came upon station one quickly and took a quick glance at the radar screen to check the position of the enemy basilisks. The breath caught in his throat. Those basilisks weren’t scouting; they were the vanguard. Something much bigger was lumbering through the storm against all sense and reason.
Sidhu turned and retraced the few paces he and Reynolds had taken before the attack, flicking to open com.
‘Captain Meyer, Sidhu, say you’re hearing me, boss.’ ‘Easy Sid, you’re sounding stressed. What’s up?’ ‘We’re in trouble. I’ve just checked my radar. Basilisks are circling and heading back in to take us out. They’re clearing a path. There’s a behemoth on the way.’
‘What? In this?’ Meyer betrayed a mote of anxiety for the first time. ‘Neef, can you confirm?’
‘I’m not at the station, sir. Stand by.’
Even through the storm and the crackle of the com, Sidhu felt the shock and relative silence.
‘It can’t be anything else. Major contact, slow moving. Got to be the Maputo. No other Maf behemoth moving in this sector, the others are still way east and west, right?’ Sidhu was still moving. Away to his right about half a dozen paces, a still heat signature. ‘Damn.’
‘Confirmed contact, sir,’ came Ganeef’s voice, wavering slightly. ‘Definitely a behemoth.’
Over the open com, Meyer was relaying the message to the rest of the platoon, ordering them to maintain their move to the rally point. He was still intent on joining Ganeef who was exposed and vulnerable but there was more and it wasn’t good news for any of them though it was the right decision. ‘Horvald, do you copy?’ Meyer was breathing heavily, running as he spoke.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Best speed to the Heart of Granite. Ping them the whole way. Only return when you’ve relayed the information.’ ‘Copy, sir,’ said Horvald, his voice heavy. ‘Hang in there, Exterminators. I’ll be as quick as I can.’
‘We’re scattered,’ said Meyer. ‘And we’re in trouble, let’s not hide it. But we’re Exterminators and we do what we do. No one gets lost, no one gets left behind.’
‘Understood, sir,’ said Sidhu, finding his heart pounding away, his body registering their dire position though his mind was still clear. ‘I’ve got Reynolds, sir.’
‘What’s his situation?’
Sidhu knelt by his buddy. Reynolds was still and his heat signature was confusing but it looked like he was still alive.
Sidhu stripped off a glove and felt for a pulse in Reynolds’ neck. It was there but it was average at best. He put an ear to Reynold’s face, pulling his helmet aside and trying to get an idea of the state of the stricken marine’s breathing. Impossible.
The wind and the muffling effects of Reynol
ds’ mask conspired against him.
‘He’s still alive, sir but I can’t confirm injury. He’s unconscious, I think. So hard to tell with the thermals. I’m switching to torchlight.’
‘It’ll be a beacon, Sid,’ warned Meyer. ‘Your call.’ ‘No choice, sir,’ said Sidhu. ‘Come on Reynolds, give me a sign here.’
Sidhu switched his thermal imaging off and thumbed the studs on the side of his helmet. They had to be depressed simultaneously to switch the quartet of bright halogen beams on from the corners of his helmet.
‘Oh no,’ whispered Sidhu. ‘Stay with me, Reynolds. Don’t make a crap the last meaningful thing you did. Not a good epitaph for the headstone, buddy.’
Reynolds was still alive. His eyes were open and he was lying on his side, staring into the torch beams that Sid tried to keep from his face. Sid tongued his personal com and jacked the volume right up. He could hear Reynolds’ breathing now; ragged gasps, short and agonised.
Reynolds’ hands were clamped to his midriff. Somehow he’d managed to jam some sterile med packing into the wound and he was still holding it tight, his arms shaking with the effort. Blood had soaked right through the pack and was dripping into the sand.
‘Captain Meyer, Sidhu. Reynolds has a serious gut injury.
Bleeding heavily. I have to try and stem it and stabilise him.’ ‘Copy, Sid, do your best.’
Sidhu placed his hands over Reynolds’ and pushed with the slightest of pressure. ‘Got to roll you over, Reynolds. I have to see the injury, gel it and stabilise you for evac.’
Reynolds rasped in a breath. ‘Been listening to the com,’ he said very softly and between gasps. ‘Not sure I can walk out of here.’
‘Horvald’s coming back and I’m going nowhere. I’ll keep you safe.’
‘Top man.’
‘It should have been my surname, buddy. Let’s roll you. I won’t lie to you. This is going to really, really hurt.’ Reynolds coughed a laugh. ‘Thank you, Doctor.’
Sidhu put one hand on Reynold’s shoulder, the other on his hip.
‘On three . ..’ he said. ‘One, two . ..’
He rolled the soldier on to his back, dragging a long low growl of pain from him.
Heart of Granite Page 31
