He sucked in a deep breath, bringing himself to full height. “You heard the sergeant. Let’s go!”
Sidearms drawn, the group slipped into the hall and made their way through the quiet building. At the staircase, frantic voices and a surge of activity below caught their attention. The heavy footfalls of booted Bearcat warriors hit the first step. The sound added fuel to the gang of escapees who shot up the giant steps, bursting onto the roof.
The lead Bearcat recklessly rushed up the stairs. A fury of fire from the group peppered the massive bulk of charging flesh with dozens of tiny shots. Its body shook like a seizure set off every nerve at once. The brave soul collapsed, laying half in and half out of the door.
Stunned, ashamed, the human’s fire ceased. A thunderous roar was rising up from the stairwell.
“Keep up your fire!” Trent took a knee and aimed. “Keep ‘em pinned. Forty seconds.”
The quietness of Legion rifles never set well with Trent. They pummeled the doorway with hundreds of rounds, shredding wood, metal, and flesh. His sharp eyes registered the pinpricks of destruction their violence caused. It was just so quiet around him, though. It was like they destroyed without effect, like the hum of their weapons was a confirmation of their disconnection from the harm they inflicted. It seemed somehow emotionless, impersonal, maybe even rude, given the deep sense of honor the Bearcats placed on combat.
Honor, he scoffed to himself. There’s no honor in this. No honor in war. There’s just the living and the dead.
A trio of grenades flying from the stairwell yanked him from his reflections.
“Grenade!”
The group dove to the ground.
The detonations rocked the roof. They’d gotten clear of the blast zones, but the delay in their suppression fire allowed their pursuers an opportunity to gain position. The tables had turned. Booming rifles, the way God intended war to be, violent and messy for all, sent huge bullets at the humans.
A spittle of counter-fire was offered, but it was enough to delay the enemy’s advance.
Whooosh!
Avenger fighters flew overhead, kicking up rooftop gravel and swirling dust.
Boom, boom, boom!
The colony’s paltry air defenses were eliminated in detail.
The shuttle pilot pinged Trent. “Stay down!”
He wrapped his arms around his helmet.
The thunder of the Bearcat rifles was replaced with a heavy hum. Trent looked back, under his arm. The shuttle unleashed its Gatling gun on the exit. Thousands of hypersonic rounds turned the doorway into a twisted wreck of splinters and debris.
Satisfied, the shuttle did a one-eighty, presenting its lowered ramp to its comrades.
Trent rose, bringing his sidearm to bear on the shattered exit. “Go, go, go!”
One after another they jumped onto the craft. Trent was the last to board. As he leapt, he gripped the side handle. His momentum carried him around, forcing his gaze to the ground. He made eye contact with Councilmen Batlif.
Shock, bewilderment, and a profound sadness mixed together into a toxic expression on the councilmen’s face.
Trent looked away. Survival was all that mattered, honor be damned.
***
Susan brought her Avenger into a steep climb. “Shuttle is away, City defenses are neutralized.”
“Good work, commander,” CAC responded. “We’ve got inbound ground pounders to extract some grunts who got themselves surrounded. You in the mood for a close air support mission to buy ‘em some time?”
“Just tell me where and when. I’m your girl.”
“And guy,” West cut in.
“Sending strike coordinates, and the time is now.”
She studied the op from her mind’s eye. Close ground support missions were fairly uncommon in modern warfare. This was different, though. The stakes were too high not to take the chance, and it looked like the Bearcat force was light on air defenses.
A picture of the target formed in her head. Hundreds of warriors and dozens of vehicles swarmed the building. They poured into it in droves.
She opened a channel with West. “We need to give them something to think about. Come up on my wing and we’ll give ‘em both barrels. Double K and lasers on wide spread. We’ll do a pass on each side.”
“Lead the way. Let’s show them what we can do.”
Banking left, they lined up and dropped to two-hundred meters. In unison, the noses of their fighters vomited depleted uranium and concentrated light. A single green beam lanced back, harmlessly zipping between the Avengers.
The strike devastated those caught in the open. Hundreds of heavy rounds impacted the earth, transferring their kinetic energy into the soil and instantly excavating tons of dirt. A thick black cloud puffed up, but not before broad laser beams swept below. The diffused beams killed few but blinded dozens.
Susan gained altitude in silence. She’d won this one, but it didn’t feel right to gloat over it, even to herself.
***
Gabriel looked up. “What the hell was that?”
“Air support.” Simms panted. “My com is being jammed but I bet the cavalry is on its way.”
Gabriel slid his MRG into the hall and sprayed it down. A thunderous volley was returned. “Good, ‘cause we need it!”
***
“This is a weapons-free combat drop.” Jones let that sink in for a moment. “We will hit the enemy with overwhelming force, secure the package, and have our asses in the air before a real battle can be had.”
Ten shuttles hit the dirt, crushing crops underneath. An eerie calm briefly settled as the ramps lowered into place. It was shattered by five hundred legionnaires rushing out, trampling entire sections of the field.
Jones was one of the first off. A squadron of Avengers buzzed overhead. She charged toward the lab like a common soldier. The initial orders had already been given and everyone knew their job. This wasn’t just another mission. It wasn’t even a rescue mission of trapped comrades. It was everything.
She’d worked her way to the front of the pack, plant leaves whipping at her, then warnings flashed. “Cover!”
The attackers hit the ground, avoiding a barrage of bullets. The wall of metal chewed off the tops of the crops. It rained bits and pieces of plants on the legionnaires. Their return fire cleared the land in front of them.
“Captain Von,” she said to her heavy infantry century commander, “you ready to get in the fight?”
“We thought you’d never ask, colonel. You need us, we’re there.”
She studied her tactical display. A feed from the fleet gave her an accurate layout of the enemy position. “I want you to divide into two forces. Arc around our rear and attack them on their flanks. We’ll keep their attention on us. Their line was thrown together in a hurry. If we’re quick about it, we can smash them now.”
“Moving out. Hit ‘em in four minutes.”
She switched channels to her four light infantry centuries. “All units, press the attack. Leapfrog by centuries, odd numbers first.”
Unit commanders rushed to organize their troops. Thirty seconds later, their fire across the line intensified as the Second and Fourth Century unloaded everything they had, covering the charge of the First and Third.
Dropping to the ground, the lead centuries opened up to cover the advance of the trailing units. The enemy line lit up with grenade detonations and their own muzzle flashes. The roar of war rolled freely over the open ground.
Jones scanned the battlefield. The area between the opponents was clear cut except for a solitary plant that stood defiantly in the center of the fighting. The queer sight made her laugh out loud. She admired the grit of the robust foliage. It was a short lived sensation. Two seconds later, it was destroyed by a Bearcat grenade that fell short.
She frowned. Its destruction had impacted her for some reason, like it represented something far larger than itself.
Her tactical display showed new activity. Captain Von’s he
avy infantry was hitting the Bearcats’ flanks.
Taken by surprise and pressed on three fronts, the Bearcat line folded in on itself and collapsed.
An aide ran up to her. “They’re on the run! Should I order our units to hold back and let them escape?”
Jones jerked her head in his direction, shooting hot eyes at him through her helmet. She wanted to yell at him but knew where his suggestion had come from. He didn’t want to kill any more Bearcats than was absolutely necessary. It was a noble goal but not one she could endorse now.
We’ve gone too far to start taking half measures now. No, we’d better make damn sure we do what we came here to do. It’s the only way all this will ever mean anything.
“Negative.” She turned back toward the university. “Full pursuit. Don’t let them reform on the campus. Don’t stop till we’ve driven them into the city!”
“Understood, colonel.”
“Order Captain Von to secure the laboratory and find Major Simms.” She rung her hands together. “We must secure the Pills.”
***
“Motherfucker!” Gabriel slapped the wall.
“What is it?” Simms kept his attention focused on covering yet another withdrawal to see what Gabriel was commenting on.
“We’re out of places to run. We’re boxed in.”
“Christ.”
“Yep. That about sums up our tactical options.”
“We’ll have to hold until help arrives. Put the package in a corner under something. Watch your ammo, especially grenades. There’s only one way in here. One man fires at a time.”
The strategy worked for a number of minutes. The enemy figured out their tenuous situation though.
Gabriel jammed in his last mag. “Here they come!”
Simms raised his rifle. “It’s a rush!”
The trapped humans sprayed and prayed, zig-zagging the muzzles of their MRG’s in a spasm of wild patterns on full auto.
It should’ve been suicide for the attackers, but they’d broken off doors and were using them as makeshift shields. Even so, they suffered heavy losses, closing with relentless courage.
Simms switched to grenades in desperation and flooded the hallway with explosives. Others did the same. The noise and concussion of the close blasts in an enclosed space bleed through his helmet to rattle his teeth.
Smoke filled the area, confusion and chaos reigned over the field of battle.
Click.
His last mag had run dry. He went for his sidearm but it was too late. The enemy was upon them.
It felt like a tree had landed on him but this tree had fur and four limbs. The crashing weight of the warrior would’ve been overpowering if it had landed squarely on him. He managed to pull his half-immobilized body free.
Grunts and wordless shouts echoed in the fog. Interference of some kind, maybe a piece of lab equipment, screwed with his CAL’s sensors.
He was blind.
But so was the enemy.
Staggering backward, he distanced himself from the fray long enough to pull his Bowie knife out. Properly armed once more, he ran toward the sounds of battle. He was suddenly reminded of a joke his Marine father used to say at times, “Like a blind man in an orgy, we’re gonna have to feel our way around.”
He stabbed the first hairy thing he came across. The wall of flesh reeled back, knocking him off his feet and breaking his grip on the blade.
Blood up, Simms took hold of his sidearm and attacked. Plunging ahead, he found the wounded opponent and planted the pistol against it. Again and again he pulled the trigger, sending tiny projectiles into the beast’s core, puncturing organs and slicing arteries. It bucked violently, eventually giving into its wounds,
He no longer heard anything, no longer felt anything. He simply fought, guided by training, instinct, and adrenaline.
A few times one of the beasts captured a limb and tried to snap it in two. To their surprise, they found their strength wasn’t up to the task. Simms used this to his advantage to slay a number of them. His adversaries didn’t know that he’d originally lost both arms and legs to a hail of Bearcat gun fire and had the muscle and tendons regrown over a metal alloy frame.
Each kill took a mountain of energy. Exhaustion was setting in. That was a condition as fatal as a round to the chest, under the circumstances.
When he didn’t think he could go on, he heard clank, clank, clank rattle down the hall. It sounded familiar, like he’d heard it a thousand times before. Realization dawned upon him, it was the signature metal on metal sound of legion heavy infantry boots. The cavalry had arrived.
The Bearcat he was entangled with was ripped from his person. He fell to the floor, heaving for air.
“Are you alright, sir? I’m Captain Von, First Legion, Ninth Cohort.”
Simms throw his head around. I can see. He realized unsure how long he’d been on autopilot. The scene around him was a total mess of blood and gutted bodies. “My men?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we’ve found only one survivor besides yourself.”
“Who?” He prayed it was Gabriel and immediately felt guilty for valuing his life over the others.
“Sergeant Gabriel, sir.”
Thank God.
He gasped. “The package!”
“We have it, major. You and your men did good. Now let’s get you out of here. We have to get to Earth.”
That last word brought a smile to his face. Earth, yeah! That’s why we did this.
Chapter Thirty
Spoils of War
Amanda nipped on Trent’s heels en route to the bridge. “The package is secured, sir. It’s being loaded onto a shuttle as we speak.”
“Make sure every fighter in the fleet is escorting it to the Fist, even at the expense of ground support.”
“Understood.”
“Are Gabriel and Simms with it?”
“I’m not sure. Captain Von called it in. He said the incursion had taken heavy casualties but there were survivors. He didn’t specify who, though. Should I request more information?”
“No. He’s got a job to do and I don’t want to distract him. Besides...” He sighed. “If they’re dead, finding out ten minutes from now won’t change a damn thing.”
The bridge doors parted and he shot into the room. “Admiral DeWalt, status report, please?” His skin was flushed, his palms sweaty. It felt as if each beat of his heart might finally burst it out of his chest.
DeWalt was leaning over a sensor terminal. He stayed where he was, turning his head. “We’re proceeding according to plan. Evacuation of our forces is underway. We should be able to begin acceleration to the gate in twenty minutes. The package is on a priority route and heavily guarded. I think you can relax, general.”
“Thank you, but that’s not going to happen until we’re on our way. Did you suffer damage taking out the planetary defense grid?”
DeWalt stood straight. “A few minor laser strikes, but nothing we can’t patch up in a few hours. We struck with total surprise and were in position to wipe out our targets in the first salvos.”
“Excellent news. Please extend my gratitude to the fleet.” He looked around and realized there wasn’t a thing for him to do. “I’m going to the shuttle bay to meet the package myself. Please inform me if anything changes.”
“Of course.”
They exchanged nods and Trent bolted back to the bay with Amanda staying right behind him.
***
A small audience had formed to greet the critical cargo, mostly techs and a few scientists. A collection of legionnaires and deck crew were escaping their duties for a couple minutes to see what the fuss was all about as well.
The doors on the floor parted, revealing the top of the rising craft. Trent found Amanda’s hand and squeezed it hard.
“Relax,” she thought-spoke, “it’s here. You’re starting to make me a nervous wreck.”
“Sorry.”
Motors whined as the boxy-looking vessel moved into place. M
etal clamps clanked together, locking it in place. The ramp lowered, quickening Trent’s heart. It seemed as if the damn thing was taking its sweet time just to piss him off.
Halfway down, he saw Simms and Gabriel standing with solemn expressions. Gabriel’s right arm was in a sling.
Thank God they made it.
He charged up the ramp. “Did you get it?”
Simms nodded. “Yeah...we got it.’
Trent detected a hint of hurt in his tone. He put a hand on their shoulders. “Thank you. I know it wasn’t easy and you lost good men down there, but you did it. Because of you and their sacrifice, we have what we need to save Earth, to save the colonies. All of the colonies, human and Bearcat.” He looked into their eyes. “Don’t forget that.”
Gabriel pressed his lips together. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Can I see it?” Trent looked over their shoulders.
Simms jerked his head back. “Captain Von has it in the back.”
Slipping between his friends, Trent pushed past two rows of heavy infantrymen. At the end, he came upon a fully armored Captain Von.
“Here it is, sir.” Von extended his upturned hand. In it was a softball sized sphere with weird markings.
Trent reached out and took the container housing the Pills like it was a newborn, cradling it close to his body. On the ramp, the crowd stared in reverence. It felt like a religious ceremony of some kind. They were crusaders who’d found the Holy Grail.
Trent handed it to Amanda. “See that it’s secured in the cargo hold we had cleared for it and placed under heavy guard at all times.” He looked at the jumble of scientists and techs. “No one touches it, no one studies it. Hell, I don’t want anyone to look at it funny.”
“Shouldn’t we examine it to determine how to use it?” Dr. Pamela Leavenworth, a theoretical physicist who had joined the expedition at the Echo Base, stepped forward. She had been seduced by the prospect of ancient alien technology, and Trent was happy to have her join them in the event he needed her expertise. Until he did, though, she wouldn’t lay a finger on the device.
The Last Charge of the 1st Legion (The Last Hero Trilogy Book 3) Page 22
