Renegade (The Kurgan War Book 7)

by Richard Turner

  “That’s correct, Sergeant. It was far too dangerous for us to try to return to our own lines until last night.”

  “More like your water and rations ran out. Save your cockamamie story for the Provost Marshall.” The sergeant looked at Sheridan and saw the discomfort in his eyes. “What’s his problem?”

  “He’s temporarily deaf in both ears. He was right next to a mine when it went off.”

  “I’ll have a medic check him out.”

  “Thanks, Sergeant. What’s going to happen to us now?”

  “I’m handing you two over to the MPs who will conduct an investigation into what happened to your patrol to see if charges are warranted.”

  “But I’ve already told you what happened.”

  “I don’t care. Take your friend through the far door. A couple of MPs are waiting to take you into custody. At least you won’t be on the front lines for a day or two.”

  An idea flashed through Cole’s mind. “Sergeant, do you get many people through here?”

  “Sure, why do you ask?”

  “I thought I saw a five-man patrol heading in this direction before we accidentally set off that mine.”

  “I haven’t seen them. There are at least ten entrances into the base. They could have come in through any one of them.”

  “Right you are, Sergeant, thanks.”

  The sergeant stepped close and studied Cole’s weathered face. “You two have to be the oldest-looking privates I have ever seen.

  Cole cringed inside. The average age had to be eighteen for most of the conscript soldiers. “Uh, we’ve been busted a couple of times.”

  “I don’t care. Get moving.”

  Cole took Sheridan by the arm and guided him across the room and out the door where they were met by a couple of MPs with broad shoulders and tree trunks for arms.

  “If we’re going to be here a while, could we please have a room for two with a nice view?” said Cole with a smile on his face.

  Chapter 20

  The sun edged up on the horizon bringing with it the gray light of a new day.

  Tarina looked out of the narrow concrete culvert she and Wendy had taken refuge in and said a small prayer for their friends, wherever they might be.

  “We’ve had women in combat roles since the twenty-first century,” grumbled Wendy. “You’d think they’d have designed these uniforms to allow women to go the bathroom as easily as men.”

  “In an environment covered with radioactive fallout, chemical, and biological agents, I’m all for doing it in the suit if I have to,” replied Tarina.

  “I know, but nature’s going to catch up with us soon enough, and I’m not defecating in my coveralls.”

  “Let’s hope we’re at the shuttle by then.”

  “How far do you think we got last night?”

  “Eight, maybe ten kilometers. I hate to say it, but we’re going to be crawling across this ground for two or three more nights.”

  “Let’s hope we stumble across some water, or we’re going to go down from heat prostration in these enclosed uniforms.”

  Tarina sat down and rested her back against the side of the culvert. She set her rifle on her lap. “If we do manage to get our hands on the shuttle, do you think you can reverse what happened in our timeline and get us back there?”

  “Why not? The math required should be in the shuttle’s computers. All I need to do is double-check their calculations and then we’re on our way back home. The thing I don’t understand is why even bother to return to our time? After all, aren’t the assassins all robots? What do they care if they live or die?”

  “I was wondering the same thing. I think it has to do with how Colonel Kadir sees time.”

  Wendy sat up and brushed off some dirt from her weapon. “How so?”

  “He’s hedging his bets. I’m not sure what he’s planning to do, but he’s looking for confirmation that their mission was a success.”

  “But he’s dead.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t plan for things to turn out the way they did. Besides, the people at the shuttle most likely have no clue their boss bit the big one. They’ll wait for word from the robots before leaping back to our century with the good news. Only, in a short while from now, it’ll be us waiting comfortably at the shuttle for word from Alan that they’ve neutralized the threat and it’s our time to leave.”

  “I hear you, sister.”

  “Wendy, why don’t you take the first watch to get some sleep? We’ll do four-hour shifts until the sun goes down.”

  “I’m okay. I can stay up if you’d rather get some rest.”

  “My mind’s going a thousand kilometers an hour. I doubt I could sleep if I tried. No, you get comfy, and I’ll cover us.”

  “If you insist.” Wendy slunk down to the bottom of the tunnel and placed her rifle on the ground next to her head.

  Tarina turned her body so she would be facing out the culvert. Her friend was right. Food they could do without, but if they didn’t find drinkable water soon, they would suffer horribly and risk dying of thirst. Tarina shook the thought from her mind. She was going to find some water, and that’s all there was to it. Tarina reassured herself that negative thinking never helped anyone survive. She checked that the safety was off on her rifle and got as comfortable as she could. There was no way in hell anyone was going to sneak up on her. She’d been a prisoner of the Kurgans once before, and their brutality still made her angry. Tarina and Wendy had vowed they would rather die at each other’s hands than be taken alive by the Kurgans.

  Tarina glanced at her watch and saw it was just after six in the morning. She let out a tired sigh; staying awake was going to take a lot of concentration. It was going to be a long day.

  Chapter 21

  “Can you hear me?” asked the young medic. Her voice had a slight Hispanic tinge to it.

  “Yes, I can,” responded Sheridan, with a thankful smile.

  “Very good. The batteries in your hearing aids should last about a month.”

  “Who do I speak to, to get replacement ones?”

  “Soldier, you’ll be lucky to be here a week from now.” The medic closed her bag and exited the cell.

  “Well, her bedside manner sucks, but the hearing aids don’t,” said Sheridan to Cole who was lounging about on his cot. He moved over next to his friend and whispered, “lower your voice. We need to watch what we say to one another from now on.”

  “What did you do with the old one?” asked Cole.

  “I swallowed it. I couldn’t run the risk of her finding it.”

  “I suppose that’s one way of dealing with it. Mike, have you taken a good look at the people guarding us?”

  “No, not really. Why?”

  “The next time Corporal Kew comes by with our food, check him out. His uniform doesn’t look like it’s been washed in months. His hair is far past regulation, and he’s growing a beard. Either discipline sucked a century ago, or these people have a severe shortage of water.”

  “I think I remember reading that toward the end of the struggle water had to be rationed. The highest priority were the children followed by the sick and wounded. Most people only got a cup of water a day for personal hygiene. Disease is everywhere. Don’t get sick because they don’t have much in the way of medicine either.”

  “Wonderful.”

  “Alan, I’ve been doing some thinking, and I don’t believe Colonel Kadir was as flaky as I first thought he was.”

  “Come again?”

  “When he semi-explained his plan to me, he alluded to having two shuttles in case the first one failed. I think he’s going to try multiple lines of operation here on Terra Nova.”

  “Great, and I figured it was going to be difficult enough tracking down a team of killer robots. I hope the MPs give us our stuff back when we leave or I’m going to have a hell of a time tracking down Kurt’s brothers and sisters. Mike, what do you think he’s planning?”

  “If we go with the theory that you can
alter time, the prime targets in my mind remain Denisov and Suparat.”

  Cole absentmindedly scratched the end of his nose. “That makes sense. What if he goes with the theory you can’t alter time?”

  “He’s already factored that into his plan. I think he intends to do something here in the past that will resonate in our timeline. Don’t ask me what that could be as I haven’t a clue. I’ve been wracking my brain but can’t come up with a decent answer.”

  “So for now, I take it our primary mission will be on keeping Denisov and Suparat alive?”

  Sheridan nodded. He stood up and looked around their cell. “The problem is we can’t protect anyone from inside here. It could be days or weeks before anyone gets around to dealing with us. We’ve got to get out of here right now.”

  “Hey, if you two really want out, ask the MPs for an immediate sentencing,” said a gruff-looking man with long scraggly hair in the cell beside them.

  Cole stood and eyed the man. “What’s that?”

  “You can waive your right to a fair hearing and ask for a judgment to be made on the evidence at hand,” explained the man. “Sometimes it works in your favor, but most of the time it doesn’t.”

  “Have you ever heard of such a thing?” Cole asked Sheridan.

  Sheridan shook his head. “Never. It sounds like a temporary wartime measure to speed up the military courts.”

  Cole raised an eyebrow. “We’ve got to try something.”

  “Have you ever asked for an immediate sentencing?” Sheridan asked the man.

  The prisoner chuckled. “Me? Never. I don’t want to fight. I’m happy to be safe and warm in a cell rather than on the frontlines where they’re being butchered by the thousands on a daily basis.”

  Sheridan had heard enough. He banged a hand on the bars of his cell. “Hey, Corporal Kew, come here.”

  “Step back from the bars,” ordered Kew as he walked toward the cell.

  Sheridan complied.

  “What do you want, prisoner?”

  “My friend and I demand the right of immediate sentencing.”

  Kew scrunched up his face. “Are you sure? Captain Martin isn’t the most sympathetic company commander I’ve ever worked with.”

  “We’re sure,” stressed Cole. “Fetch the captain and let’s get this over with.”

  “It’s your heads,” replied Kew, turning to leave.

  “I hope this doesn’t blow up in our faces,” said Sheridan. “They still had the death penalty for desertion on the books a century ago.”

  Three minutes passed before Corporal Kew and Captain Martin walked in. Under the captain’s arm was a book of military law.

  “I understand you two prisoners have asked for the right to be tried under the military justice code article NN-113A, more colloquially known as immediate sentencing?”

  “That’s correct, sir,” responded Sheridan.

  “I need to hear from you as well,” said Martin to Cole.

  “I also request immediate sentencing.”

  “Corporal Kew, as my witness did you hear both prisoners ask to be tried under article NN-113A?” said Martin

  “Yes, sir, they clearly asked for sentencing,” answered Kew.

  “Very well. Since you both returned to our lines under your own free will, I do not believe that you are deserters. However, this does not mitigate the fact that for close to a week you did nothing to rejoin your unit. Therefore, I find you both guilty of malingering. Corporal, bring the accused to attention for sentencing.”

  “Get your heels together,” barked Kew.

  The two Marines came smartly to attention. In the back of Sheridan’s mind, he was praying for a hefty fine to be levied against his pay which, due to the fact he didn’t really exist in this time, he’d never have to pay.

  “Privates Marshall and Hill, I sentence you both to be removed from this cell immediately so you can join your new unit, the 333rd Infantry Regiment, before it moves to the front later this evening.”

  Kew unlocked the cell door. “Salute the captain.”

  Sheridan and Cole saluted and remained at attention until Martin was gone.

  “Follow me,” said Kew. “I’ll return your possessions and issue you both with a new rifle.”

  Cole nudged Sheridan. “Hey, this isn’t so bad. At least we’re out of jail.”

  Sheridan looked over his shoulder. “The 333rd isn’t a normal line regiment. I read about it at school. It’s a penal regiment formed from deserters, cowards, thieves, malcontents, and the odd murderer and rapist. The only consolation I can think of is that Denisov commands the regiment’s second battalion.”

  “Well, let’s hope we end up there.”

  “Alan, come tomorrow morning, if we’re still alive, we’ll all be under Denisov’s command. This regiment is about to lose two-thirds of its strength in battle in just under an hour taking a Kurgan position.”

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re full of cheery trivia?”

  Kew made them take a seat while he went to fetch their belongings.

  “As soon as we can, we’ve got to split up,” said Sheridan. “I think it would be best if I stayed close to Denisov while you protect Suparat.”

  “No disrespect, Mike, but shouldn’t it be the other way around?” said Cole. “I’m the better soldier of the two of us, and if things are about to turn as nasty as you say, I stand a better chance of coming out of this alive than you might.”

  Sheridan patted his friend’s arm. “I’ll be okay. Besides, you have the gift of the gab and can B.S. your way in and out of trouble far better than I can. Your time in the ranks will help you blend in with these people. Before we move into the line, I want you to make a run for it and steal someone else’s identity to use as your cover.”

  “Okay, but you’d best keep your head down or your better half will never let me hear the end of it.”

  Corporal Kew escorted the Marines from the jail into the massive underground complex dug under the Sayan Highlands where close to two million soldiers and civilians had taken refuge after the first Kurgan nuke strike. The cavern stretched as far as the eye could see. Kew hurried them along to the orderly room of the 333rd, which was little more than a folding table with a fat, unshaven, sergeant missing a hand sitting there scowling up at the two new “volunteers.”

  “Name and rank?” demanded the sergeant.

  “Privates Marshall and Hill,” replied Kew, handing over their transfer orders.

  “Which is which?”

  “I’m Marshall,” said Cole. “The other guy’s Hill.”

  “From here on out your rank will be convict until you die or get promoted,” said the old NCO. “Not too many of the fresh meat ever get promoted so don’t get any ideas of grandeur. You’re to report to Alpha Company, Third Battalion. They’re down below half-strength and could use some topping up.”

  “Yes, Sergeant,” said Cole.

  “And don’t get any ideas about trying desert. Unlike the line regiments, our officers are allowed to shoot anyone who breaks ranks when facing the enemy or not. Got it?”

  “We hear you loud and clear.”

  “Good, now get out of my sight and report to your new company.”

  Sheridan looked around and spotted a hand-painted sign on the wall indicating where the third battalion’s headquarters was located. They slung their rifles and marched sharply. The area was a beehive of activity. Soldiers ran to and fro as sergeants barked orders for everyone to get ready for battle.

  “My God,” said Cole, shaking his head. “If there’s a private out of his or her teens, I haven’t seen one yet.”

  “You’re absolutely prehistoric compared to the people here,” joked Sheridan.

  “Mike, look at their faces. They’re terrified. I bet half will run the first chance they get; the others will cower under cover praying that someone else does the fighting for them.”

  “History doesn’t record it that way.”

  “You mean the same histo
ry books that conveniently glossed over the millions, if not billions, of people we’re about to abandon without a fight to the Kurgs during the peace talks?”

  “Touché.”

  “Why don’t you report to the company clerk while I take a stroll past the commissary stores to see if someone wants to take a couple of days off?”

  Sheridan held out his hand. His eyes showed his steely resolve to see the mission through to the end. “I should be back in a few days’ time. Whatever you do, don’t kill anyone who isn’t trying to kill you or Suparat. I believe that time is linear, but just in case it’s not, let’s go easy on the people around here.”

  Cole smiled as he shook his best friend’s hand. “No promises.”

  “Good luck, Alan.”

  “You too, Mike.”

  Sheridan watched his mentor walk away whistling a tune to himself, trying to look like he belonged there.

  “Hey, you, what are you doing standing around gawking at things?” bellowed out a sergeant, bringing Sheridan back down to Earth.

  Sheridan pointed at himself. “Do you mean me, Sergeant?”

  “No, I mean the man behind you. Of course, I friggin mean you. What’s your name, Convict?”

  “Private Hill, Sergeant.”

  “No. Your name is Convict Hill. Make sure you get it right next time.” The sergeant was Asian with a dark beard and a stocky body. “My name is Sergeant First Class Ito. Which company are you reporting to?”

  “Alpha.”

  “I’m also with Alpha Company. Follow me, Convict.”

  Sheridan nodded and fell into line behind Ito. They handed over Sheridan’s papers to the clerk who filed them and recorded his tombstone info before pointing at a tall master sergeant.

  “That’s Master Sergeant Hansen,” said Ito. “He was once a convict like yourself. Now he’s the top NCO in the company.”

  Ito motioned for Sheridan to stay where he was while he spoke with Hansen. He returned a few seconds later, grinning. “Hill, you’ve been assigned to my platoon. I’ll introduce you to your squad leader; after that, pay attention to Staff Sergeant Travers. Do what he says when he says it, and you might come through this in one piece.”