First Strike (The Kurgan War Book 1)

by Richard Turner

  Billions of kilometers away, the division’s intelligence staff were busy debriefing Sheridan and his team. Several officers and NCOs furiously scribbled notes or typed away on computer consoles trying to record every word. Everything they had seen or heard was meticulously recorded. Sheridan was surprised to hear that while they were away the fleet had finally made contact with the garrison. It was welcome news.

  After three hours of back and forth with the staff, the debriefing wrapped up. General Gruber thanked them personally. He told Sheridan and his people to get some rest. They were told not to go too far as they were probably heading out again in the next or two to gather more information.

  “Mister Sheridan, I’d like a word,” said Gruber.

  Taking that as his cue, Cole rounded up everyone else and led them out of the office.

  Gruber took a seat across from Sheridan. “Son, the information that you brought back with you is invaluable. I now know where and when the enemy intends to hit me and I now know all about their sleeper cells spread throughout the armed forces. It’s a chilling thought just how successful they have been at slipping their people into our military and government agencies for the past several decades.”

  “Sir, it’s nothing short of genius. Undoubtedly, they were planning this war right after the last one ended. It was just a matter of timing.”

  Gruber smiled. Sheridan was a bright officer with potential. He resolved to keep an eye on the young man and help shepherd his career. He thanked Sheridan, who stood and left to join his comrades.

  Gruber sent word for his chief of staff to join him.

  A couple of minutes later, Colonel Anne Robbins walked into the room looking as if she had not slept in weeks. There were dark rings under her puffy, bloodshot eyes.

  Gruber said, “Anne, I want you to order the guard around the headquarters and the ammunition dumps to be doubled, effective immediately.”

  “Yes, sir.” replied the colonel.

  “Also inform the staff that our latest plans are not to be released to the regiments without my expressed order. I want to keep them close hold for now.”

  Robbins nodded her head as she took down her notes.

  “Also, I’m ordering you to get some sleep. You’ll burn yourself out and I can’t afford to lose you.”

  “Sir, I’ll get some sleep when you do.”

  Gruber grinned. “Anne, I’m older than you, I can go with less sleep. Now please do as I ask. The staff can work without you for six hours.”

  Colonel Robbins relented. “As you wish, sir, but not one second more than six hours.”

  “I’ll make sure you get woken up,” replied Gruber, lying through his teeth. He did not intend to wake her up until her body was good and rested.

  Robbins saluted and left to give the new orders to the staff.

  Gruber stood up, walked over to the wall and studied a map hanging there. His mind was playing out the enemy’s probable courses of action for the coming assault. He would have to pull a couple of battalions away from their place in the line to meet this new threat. However, if he got it wrong and they were attacked from another direction, there would be nothing to stop the enemy from taking the capital. It was the biggest gamble of his life. With a grin, he decided that unless something new came to his attention that they would go with his plan as it stood. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a fresh cigar. He lit it and savored the taste before exhaling. “Come on you sons of bitches, try forcing your way across my river and I’ll kick your ass all the way back to Kurgan space.”

  Chapter 32

  Admiral Sheridan wrapped up his briefing to Admiral Oshiro on how he intended to defeat the enemy fleet in orbit around Derra-5 and asked for questions. When there were none, he stepped back and turned over the lectern to Lieutenant General Denisov, the ground force commander for the invasion. The general was his usual gruff, succinct self and concluded his presentation in under five minutes with an observation that there was an insufficient number of landing craft currently available for the assault to be conducted in one wave. He made sure everyone in the room understood that he would have to sequence his attack based upon the availability of the landing ships. He did not see it as a showstopper, just something that the planning staff needed to keep a close eye on. Both men took their seats at the table across from Admiral Oshiro.

  “Gentlemen, I will take your proposals with me and present them to the Federation President when I see him in two days’ time,” explained Oshiro. “I have no doubt that your plans will be approved. Therefore, you are to move ahead with your preliminary preparations. Admiral Sheridan will be overall in charge of the operation. I want you both ready to go when the order is given.”

  Denisov nodded his head. There could only be one person in charge and it made sense for Sheridan to be that man. As long as he kept the Kurgan Fleet away from his landing craft packed with men and equipment Denisov would be more than happy just to lead the ground assault.

  The meeting soon concluded. As always the staff officers who had quietly sat through the briefings at the back of the room and would have to do all the legwork rushed to ask their counterparts a million questions.

  Oshiro took Sheridan by the arm and together they walked to a window looking out into space. Oshiro handed Sheridan a note; he took it and read it over. With a stunned look, Sheridan stood there grasping for words to articulate how he felt. Oshiro smiled and patted Sheridan on the back. He was about to say something when the door to the briefing room opened and a Marine captain entered, his face was ashen.

  Sheridan waved the officer over.

  “Sir, we’ve just received word that the Aquila has been destroyed,” reported the captain.

  “My God, how?” asked Oshiro. The Aquila was a fighter carrier and the flagship of the First Fleet tasked with defending the Earth.

  “Admiral, according to the reports coming in, the ship’s nuclear arsenal somehow detonated. The Aquila was being resupplied at the time of the explosion. Three other vessels were lost with her. Preliminary estimates put the loss of life at close to eight thousand.”

  Oshiro remained outwardly calm. “Captain, pass this information to my staff right away.” The officer turned and walked towards a cluster of high-ranking officers.

  “You were right to be suspicious, Admiral,” Sheridan said to Oshiro.

  “This is horrible. The enemy has people everywhere. We’re going to have to double our surveillance and security measures or there will be more losses like this.”

  Sheridan placed the note from Oshiro in his pocket. “Sir, we have to assume that they have people in key positions who have access to everything that we have. May I make a suggestion?”

  “Please, go on.”

  “Admiral, secrecy needs to be maintained or the invasion of Derra-5 will end in failure. We need the enemy to believe that we are going to strike somewhere else. From here on out, sir, I think it would be wise to identify Illum Prime as our objective. Their agents will undoubtedly feed the enemy this information and make plans to fight us there. I will inform my staff, and General Denisov’s, to keep the real destination a secret until just before we make our jump to Derra-5.”

  “Do it, and for God’s sake Rob, don’t let your guard down for one second. I’m beginning to fear we could lose this war before we’ve even begun to fight back.” Oshiro excused himself and went to speak with his staff.

  Admiral Sheridan knew that Oshiro was right. If they didn’t find out who was and was not a traitor in their midst and fast, they would always be looking over their backs wondering if the person in the room with them could be trusted. It was a surefire recipe for fear, paranoia, and scapegoating. It had to be nipped in the bud before it got out of hand. A thought crossed his mind. He called over his Fleet Master Chief Petty Officer. “Master Chief Rey, please find Captain Jones officer and have him report to me right away.”

  Rey nodded his head and went to find the fleet’s senior medical officer.

  A
dmiral Sheridan had no idea if what he was thinking would work. It was a long shot, but it was all they seemed to have. He reached into his pocket and felt the piece of paper in his hand. He deiced to wait until the room cleared before making a couple of calls. He just was not sure how he was going to break the news.

  Chapter 33

  Tarina heard the buzzing in her head, but her weary mind told her to ignore it. She pulled a pillow over her head and tried to block out the irritating noise. A second later, the door slid open and the light from the hallway flooded in.

  “Tarina, wake up. I have a message for you,” said Wright, his tone serious.

  She instantly sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked over at the clock on the wall. It was early morning. She flicked on the light switch beside her bed. The bright light bothered her tired eyes.

  “I’ll leave this with you,” Wright said as he handed Tarina his personal tablet and left the room.

  Tarina shook her head trying to wake up. She stood up and took the device from her bedside table. On the screen was a message for her from Sheridan’s father. Instantly, she found it hard to breathe. All of the suppressed emotions she had buried deep inside her heart flooded back. Why was the admiral calling her now? She knew Michael was dead. Hesitantly, she opened the message.

  Admiral Sheridan appeared. “Tarina, I know that you and Michael weren’t seeing one another when the war started. However, I thought that you would want to know that based on the information that you brought back from Derra-5, Michael is still alive. He is down there fighting with the rest of the garrison. How he ended up there, I have no idea. Michael is listed as being a reconnaissance platoon leader attached to the divisional headquarters. I was told that you might be going back there. If you are, and if you see Michael, please tell him that his father loves him and that I couldn’t be prouder of him than I am today.”

  With that, the message ended. Tarina sat there staring down at the screen. She reached down and played the message again, listening carefully to each word to make sure that she had right. For a second, she thought she was going to be sick. It was all too much to comprehend. Tarina had just come to terms that Sheridan was dead. She walked over to the sink, turned on a faucet and gently washed her face.

  The door’s alarm buzzed.

  “Come in,” said Tarina, wiping her face dry with a towel.

  Wendy walked in. She stood there for a moment and then rushed over, wrapping her arms tightly around Tarina. “Colonel Wright just told me. It’s wonderful news that your friend is still alive.”

  Tarina could not hold her feelings in check anymore and began to cry tears of joy. “Yes, he is, Michael is still alive.”

  Wright coughed at the open door, trying to get the women’s attention. “Tarina, Wendy, I hate to drop this on you at a moment like this but I have received just word that we have a landing craft on route to our location, ETA six hours. I need you to be ready to depart when they arrive. As soon as you have transferred the jump calculations to the landing craft’s navigator, you will both proceed to Derra-5 as per your plan.”

  Tarina wiped the tears from her face and handed back Wright’s tablet. “Thank you, sir.”

  Wright smiled. “I knew you’d want to know.”

  “Come on,” said Wendy to Tarina. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.” Together, the women headed to the flight hangar to join the technicians prepping their craft for its next mission.

  Chapter 34

  At precisely 2000 hours, local time, on Derra-5 the enemy unleashed a barrage with every artillery and mortar piece they had with them on the planet. Seconds later, the shells rained down on the Marine positions facing the enemy. Whole houses vanished in thunderous explosions as the wall of flame was crept forward towards the riverbank and then to the other side, pulverizing the city to rubble.

  Sheridan, Cole, Garcia, Roberts and Tammy had taken refuge in the basement of a house near the headquarters. The ground beneath their feet seemed to shake as if an earthquake had suddenly hit the capital. Dust and debris fell from the roof onto the people huddled below. Tammy raised her head and barked at the noise as if she could somehow scare it away.

  “Here they come!” Cole yelled, trying to be heard over the din of the bombardment.

  “I’d hate to be on the receiving end of that,” said Garcia.

  Unbelievably, through all the noise, they heard someone banging away on the door. Sheridan edged over and opened it. There was a dust-covered soldier standing there. He handed Sheridan a piece of paper and then fled for cover. Sheridan read the note and then gave it to Cole.

  “He has to be mad,” blurted out Cole.

  “Not him, us. Come on, let’s go see what they want,” replied Sheridan. He told Garcia and Roberts to stay under cover while he and Cole went to see General Gruber.

  Quickly poking his head above ground, Sheridan saw the ferocity of the bombardment. The houses along the river were all on fire, their red flames lighting up the night sky. A dark pall of smoke hung low over the city. With Cole close behind, Sheridan ran for the nearest trench system and jumped down inside. He almost landed on a mother and her two children who had taken shelter there when the shelling began. The children looked up at him with tears in their eyes. He was as scared as they were, he just could not show it.

  “This way,” said Cole, grabbing Sheridan by the arm and pointing him in the direction of the headquarters.

  Five long minutes passed before they arrived at the underground complex. A young captain greeted them and escorted them to General Gruber’s office.

  The door was open. Gruber saw Sheridan and waved him in. “Hard pounding, eh?”

  Sheridan nodded his head wondering why he had been summoned.

  Gruber said, “Son, my liaison officer to the Third Regiment guarding the river has been severely wounded. I want you take his place. Head there right away and then report back to me once my little surprise for the Kurgans is sprung. I’m gonna need to know if it worked or not. I don’t have much left in the pantry to push them back with if they gain a bridgehead on our side of the river.”

  Sheridan peered over at the map on the wall behind the general and saw where the regiment was located on the ground. “Sir, do you have anything you want passed on to the regimental commander?”

  Gruber’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, tell them hold their ground.”

  This was it. If the enemy got through there was nothing left to stop them with. Sheridan saluted Gruber and left the office. He was not privy to what the general was planning, but he prayed that whatever it was that it worked.

  After briefing Cole, they made their way to the surface and into anther darkened trench system. The longer the fight went on, the more it resembled wars fought long ago on Earth to Sheridan. A Kurgan shell landed in the trench ten meters behind them, killing four Marines, sending their bodies flying up into the air like a child’s rag doll. Bloodstained dirt and rocks rained down inside the trench.

  Sheridan swore but kept moving. There was nowhere safe, not tonight. It was if the enemy knew that one last push would finally break the defender’s back. They were not holding anything back. They could sense victory was within their grasp.

  When they came out of the zigzagging trenches, Sheridan and Cole found themselves inside a heavily reinforced bunker overlooking the river. A gruff looking gunnery sergeant, who looked as if he hadn’t washed or shaved in weeks, met them. He checked Sheridan’s orders before he took them over to a lieutenant colonel who had assumed command of the regiment when its colonel had died from his wounds earlier in the day.

  Sheridan introduced himself and Cole to the senior officer, who told them to keep to one side and out of the way of his people. Sheridan knew the man was under considerable stress. He acknowledged the order and moved over to a viewport with a clear view of the river. He brought up his binoculars and looked across to the far bank. The smoke and fires raging through the houses made it hard to see anything. He handed his glasses to Cole and
looked down at his watch; it was coming up on 2100 hours.

  All of a sudden the hellish barrage stopped. An odd, uncomfortable silence fell over the city for a couple of seconds before the sound of buildings burning and collapsing replaced the awful sound of the bombardment. Cole tapped Sheridan and pointed to the far side of the river. Sheridan took back his binoculars and spotted a couple of wounded men staggering towards a flimsy pontoon bridge built across the river. Within seconds, the trickle turned into a torrent as scores of men, some of them severely wounded, rushed for the crossing.

  Sheridan heard someone inside the bunker swear. “God damn it, they’re pulling back too soon,” said another angrily. Whatever had been carefully orchestrated was rapidly falling apart. Sheridan guessed that they had planned for an orderly withdrawal in the face of the enemy. However, after an hour of unrelenting pounding, the men had broken. It was a rout.

  The sound of a deafening loud explosion further down the river made Sheridan’s heart skip a beat. He turned his head and watched as the bridge he had fought so hard to defend was blown to pieces to prevent its capture by the enemy. He shook his head and looked back towards the flood of men trying to escape. It was hard to see the river as thick black smoke from a nearby fire billowed past the viewport. Switching on his thermal binoculars would not help. There were too many fires burning to be able to tell the fleeing men from the white-hot background.

  “Here they come!” yelled out the gunnery sergeant.

  Sheridan and Cole saw several Kurgan officers running towards the river with flags held high above their heads. Behind them like a surging white wave came thousands of Chosen warriors, cheering at the top of their lungs. From concealed positions on their side of the river, Marine heavy weapons teams opened fire and cut down files of Chosen soldiers, their bodies tumbled down the steep riverbank into the cold, black water. Marines trapped out in the open on the narrow pontoon bridge fought and died to a man under the heavy fusillade brought down upon them by the Chosen. Sheridan ground his teeth as he watched, impotent to stop the massacre. In less than a minute, there was not a single Marine left alive. The dead littered the ground or floated downstream carried by the fast flowing river.