Gods of War (Jethro goes to war Book 5)

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Gods of War (Jethro goes to war Book 5) Page 68

by Chris Hechtl


  The Marines had staked out practically every bar near the bases. That had changed when enough numbers had come in for the Army to effect some changes in their favor. It had also sparked some spectacular bar fights … or so he'd heard. He grinned ever so slightly at the memory.

  He'd also put in a request for the games to be brought back. That had something he'd been surprised to have missed. The Army/Navy/Marine games had been a big thing back in the day. He'd loved football, but hockey was almost as much fun to watch. He could care less about soccer though.

  He hadn't been surprised when Colonel 101011 hadn't backed his request. But Lieutenant, no, now Captain JG Lincoln he reminded himself, had been more sympathetic. He knew she wouldn't buck it over the colonel's head though; that sort of thing wasn't done.

  But maybe … if he bent the ear of someone off duty in a bar … if it was the right person say …

  He scowled blackly. His drinking jarhead buddy Schultz was no longer around. He shook his head. Damn it anyway he thought in disgust.

  <)>^<)>/

  The much-anticipated arrival of Bismark's force was celebrated by all when they emerged at the B458 jump point. There was instant relief and celebration by everyone in the star system and beyond when the news was broadcast through the ansible. The news was followed by amusement when the army group arrived later that same day from the Kathy's World jump point on the other side of the solar system.

  Three days after their arrival, the army unit arrived in Protodon orbit. Colonel Pendeckle sent his files to Okinawa, along with a quiet message about the work the Marines were doing on the coast.

  "The real mission is to run General Busche down. ONI is now certain she's still alive; she let Colonel Paulings take the fall at her mine base a while back. But she's gone to ground pretty thoroughly, so I'm letting my people keep busy helping with the rebuilding. Anything you've got would help out immensely," he stated.

  Immediately, Major Wade Hayes assessed the situation and offered to help the government out with a loan of their engineering unit. They have a small engineering brigade as well as a hospital battalion to help rebuild.

  "It's good to see you again, Colonel," Major Hayes stated. He had been a Marine officer under the colonel for several years before he'd accepted a transfer and promotion to the Army. "And congrats on the promotion. It suits you," he said with a nod.

  "Good to see you too, Wade," the colonel replied with a nod.

  "I'm reading this report," the major said, holding a tablet up briefly before he set it down in front of himself. "We've got some engineers we can lend you. I also have some water purification specialists. Conway and Kaufman's water boys should help fill your needs," he said with a grin. "I've been trying to think of a way to keep that group busy."

  "Trouble makers?"

  "The usual kind," the major replied. "Sergeant Stern has his hands full with them. They thought signing on in the army reserves would give them some quick cash to open up an electronics store."

  The colonel snorted. "Little did they know the reserves are currently active."

  "Exactly. They picked the one specialty that we seem to need active at all times. So, they'll straighten up or end up in the brig permanently. Either way, we'll use them."

  "Good. Who else do you have?"

  "Well, we've got some RECON specialists. I'm assuming you're keeping an eye on the area your marines are working in just in case General Busche and her pals puts in another appearance?"

  The colonel nodded slowly. "We're watching for any of her shenanigans. Nothing yet, not even feelers. She prefers the deep mountains and forests of the main continent though. She's … well, thousands of clicks away."

  "Okay. Are you focusing on the main continent's coast line now or are you hitting the islands too?"

  "Main continent. I didn't want to do a shotgun approach and have my people too dispersed. I figured we'd throw everything we can at an area, clean up, and then move on in systematic fashion."

  "Agreed. I think we can work with that as long as our people don't trip over each other. Any ideas on where the money to rebuild is going?"

  "That I can't tell you. Most likely the big cities … which clearly don't need it," the colonel said in disgust.

  "I'll put a call in to the capital. It might help if you do too, sir," the major suggested.

  The colonel nodded. "Will do. Maybe it'll get IG's interest, and someone will kick some money loose to do the job they were supposed to be doing all along," he growled.

  "It might not be corruption. It might be some other stupidity—hiring people, training, whatever."

  "Excuses all. While they dick around, these people have been suffering. It was going on right under my damn nose and I didn't look," the colonel growled.

  The major sized him up and then nodded slowly. There was an element of shame going on there and guilt. But they all had a job to do, and the colonel had been focused on what he'd been sent there to do. The rebuild was outside his mission parameters.

  But it would help he thought. "Okay. Let's see if we can get others to help too. Get the local and Federation media involved."

  "Vultures," the colonel growled.

  "Ah, but if they are helping us, then it's all for the best," the major said with a shrug. "I'll make calls there. Not for the glory but to light some fires, get some people moving. Besides," he grinned. "I bet some goodwill here and there will make sure we've got an open keg wherever our people go on the planet," he said.

  The colonel snorted. "As if they need another excuse to get wasted," he said, shaking his head.

  "Oh come on, pretty girls, bikinis, beach, clam bakes …," the major suggested slyly.

  The colonel chuckled. "I see you do have an ulterior motive. But I won't tell anyone if you don't. Let's see what we can do," he said with a nod.

  Chapter 40

  Since it was mid-spring, farmers and other people were awake as the cocks crowed to the dawn. They were out and about with the chores when the swarms of shuttles, drones, and gunships moved out to secure the towns, villages, and other structures around the Marine's beachhead base.

  Those who were wary or spooked by the sudden sight of military fire power went inside and kept their families there. Others looked up, watched them pass by, and then went back to work.

  Each town or village was taken by a pair of platoons. One would encircle the town with air drones and gunships as backup while the second platoon moved in. They visited with the locals and then went door-to-door expecting resistance. They sparked some muted protests from the residents but little if any resistance.

  Weapons that were found were taken. Squad leaders and officers did their best to identify community leaders and law enforcement. Some residents showed off their Horathian IDs. These with the facial scans the Marine's equipment took were noted for later ONI and Marine Intelligence processing.

  MREs, solar powered radios, and water filters were handed out to residents who appeared friendly. Medical kits were given to doctors. After the sweep, a squad was left in place to keep an eye on things and then the rest of the Marines moved on to the next objective. Intelligence material passed on by the natives was passed on up the chain of command for processing and review.

  Radio chatter of their arrival winged outward. “There is so much of a difference! The Horathians, they took what they wanted, then killed people! These … these Marines are made up of all species and help!” a voice said over and over.

  One Marine platoon and three gunships remained on board the General Murtough as a ready reserve. They would drop on a moment's notice and land within ten minutes at any point on the globe to reinforce or provide air support where needed.

  By midafternoon the nearest cities had been surrounded by a company each. A platoon was selected to move in and begin sweeping with the drones.

  The Marines were wary of excited natives and kids as word spread that they were giving away handouts. Some of the streets had people lining up on the sidewalks like Par
is after her liberation in World War II. At the intersections, scratch bands played while women handed out flowers or tossed them from windows. A few of the human Marines were rushed and kissed. It amused a few, but they were also wary of a suicidal attack.

  “The ones on the roof tops make me nervous,” Captain Silverman said as she looked around. She saw a guy coming out of the mayor's office in a suit and top hat with what looked like the key to the city. She swore under her breath. “Get someone on lookout for snipers and bombs. I'll go … kiss babies. If he expects me to kiss his fat ass though …,” she growled softly as she shook her head and walked off.

  The two Neocats snorted softly at her antics.

  “I could get used to this,” Staff Sergeant Senjix, aka Speedy, said as he looked about them.

  “I heard to them it's like night and day,” Lance Corporal Kiara said, waggling her ears as her golden eyes continued to scan her sector. The duo was face-to-face but slightly offset so each could see over the other's shoulder as they talked.

  “The enemy will show up. This is just the calm before the storm,” Senjix said. “Keep your eyes peeled people,” he ordered.

  “We've got explosives in the crowd!” a sharp warning barked over the radio net. Both cats bowed their heads slightly to hear it over the din of the crowd around them, then looked up in alarm. They turned, scanning their zones as a drone winged in overhead. The flying saucer had weapons and sensors under it. It locked onto the chemical signature of explosives.

  The guy who had the bag knew he was made when he saw the drones coming right at him. He tossed it into the crowd and turned to run. The bomb went off just as the drone cut him down.

  The people on the streets screamed in terror as the explosion went off and the drone opened up. Panic ensued as they tried to stampede away from the sudden burst of violence.

  Senjix swore and then went back to back with Kiara and her team. He waved for people to go around them. “We need medics here! Bombers tossing explosives!” he said as movement caught his eye above. He looked up to see someone tossing what looked like a bottle his way. He instinctively raised his rifle and shot it out of the air. It exploded in fire and flaming liquid. “It's gotten hot here!” he snarled, ducking and covering himself from the fire.

  <)>^<)>/

  “We're getting reports of violence, ma'am. Bombs, Molotov cocktails, basic guerrilla tactics,” Major Zedeal reported. “Captain Silverman took a glancing hit. Her company has so far sustained minor casualties. Most of it from debris.”

  “Right. Where is their A team though?” Dana murmured; eying the map as orange and red codes sparkled on it. “There are the pawns and the patsies I bet,” she said.

  “It's push-back for us moving in. And we can't control or protect the crowds so our people are getting swarmed. It's going to bite us politically,” Major Zedeal warned.

  “We'll worry about that as it comes,” Dana stated. “Any radio chatter?”

  “None. We're monitoring all frequencies now, ma'am, plus we're monitoring the limited ground communication's the natives have. Nothing.”

  “So, this is preplanned and set up in advance. Do the people kicking it off know they are being used?”

  “I don't know, ma'am.”

  “Any signs of observers?” she asked, turning to the major.

  He grunted. “Too many since the attacks are happening when there is a crowd around the Marines,” he reported. “People are watching from windows, roof tops, all over.”

  “So we can't weed the sheep from the goats. Nice,” Major N'v'll stated.

  “Figure it out. They've got to be coordinating somehow,” Dana ordered. “Order the Marines to push the perimeter out further when a crowd surrounds them. Have them warn the crowd. They need to step up and help watch their own backs too,” she ordered.

  “It won't be enough, ma'am. It won't stop them,” her XO warned.

  “I know that. It's a step in the right direction,” she replied tartly.

  <)>^<)>/

  Lieutenant Lishman found a crashed Horathian drone by chance. Since it was a priority, he kept his team nearby as he and Adkins used the limited amount of hand tools they had carried with them to recover the electronics as well as whatever else they could off the bird.

  Sergeant Adkins reported that the drone was salvageable and could even fly again with some minor replacement parts and some time with a hammer. The lieutenant decided to hide the drone's parts in the brush nearby so they could salvage it later. Rounds from the drone's weapon pod were not usable in their rifles as he'd hoped; they were the wrong caliber. He swore but then decided the find could still put him in the good graces of higher so he ordered that they hump it and the other choice bits out.

  They dropped off the drone parts and munitions at a cache point just as they heard aircraft flying nearby.

  “Go bush!” the lieutenant ordered as he hurriedly took his betraying gear off and hid it in the cache as well. The others followed suit. They pulled out hand tools then got busy weeding and raking the fields.

  Occasionally, the lieutenant would look up like a groundhog to see Marines on the roads. His temptation and eagerness to engage them faded when he noted how well outfitted they were. Instead, he decided discretion was the better part of valor, and it was more important to stay hidden and observe so he could later report what he saw.

  They'd get their chance at a later time he vowed.

  <)>^<)>/

  The primary objective of the day was the spaceport. Every other place was secondary in comparison. The Marines were dropped well outside shoulder-launched SAM range and either hoofed it in or rode in on LAVs. They were surprised to see the place was a ghost town. The natives had made some minor repairs to allow them access to some of the runways, but when the Marines arrived, they found the place mostly deserted.

  But things weren't quite what they seemed.

  Gunnery Sergeant Anastasia Kodiak kicked the door in and then followed by moving in as quickly as her Neogrizzly bulk allowed. This was the second hangar they had assaulted. So far they'd only scared some rats and a few people hiding among the wreckage of crop dusters, air cars, and commuter planes. The Navy had done a bang-up job hammering the place. The main runways were toast. So was the vehicle park where the Horathian gunships and drones had been parked.

  The room was a cavern, to be expected in a hangar, but also pitch black except for the light around where the doorway behind her was. She knew something was in there; they'd picked up energy readings and motion. Her eyes took a half second to adjust.

  That was a half second too long apparently. She caught sight of the red glowing eyes on either side of her and in front of her as they brightened, then moved in.

  “Contact!” she called out just as something leapt on her ride side. She bellowed and tried to get it off while raising her rifle to fend off the robot in front of her. “Robot dogs!” she snarled as the thing on her back bit into her ear and clawed at her kit. “Get the frack off!” she snarled as the second one went for her left leg and the one in front sprang.

  They were eerily silent was all she could think of as the one in front went for her jugular. She got her rifle up and into its jaws just as the third one bit into her leg and clamped down hard.

  She bellowed in pain as her leg buckled but then her roar turned into one of anger as her implants took over. She turned her head and returned bite for bite, ripping into the machine's throat and neck. Sparks flew and painful electricity bit into her lips and gums. Her HUD fritzed and her comms spat and sputtered, a sure sign she'd just fried something.

  “Get the hell out of the way, Gunny!” a voice said behind her as she swung about. Her free hand tried to swing at the dog on her leg while she threw herself backwards and against the door jam. There was a satisfying crunch of metal and plastic plus the loud bang of her hitting the metal and wood wall hard. She shook herself as her own claws ripped and tore at the thing on her leg. The one in front was slack-jawed and glassy eyed, it
had lost power to its computer so went inert. She flung down her rifle with its torn-off head and reached in with her now free hand to grab the thing wrapped around her leg. She gave a heave with both hands and the neck severed. She kicked it just as the thing on her back came back to life.

  She'd moved just enough out of the way for Mysti to get in past her and clear the area. Weapon fire went off, Mysti was engaging something but then she snarled. “Check fire! Danger close!”

  “Frack!” a voice said as the rest of the fire team tried to get in. Anastasia felt hands trying to grab the thing on her back but she bucked forward hard, hard enough for the thing to lose its grip on her back and go flopping over. Her uniform, fur, and unfortunately some of her flesh went with it.

  It landed on its back though. Mysti used her shoulder stock to hammer it under the throat and in the thorax twice before Anastasia stomped on its skull with her good foot.

  “Frack me,” the gunny said as she limped to the side and recovered her weapon. She managed to pry off the head of the robot, but after she checked the weapon, she realized it was DX'd.

  “Frack me again,” she muttered. She looked down at the thing clamped around her leg.

  “I think you've got a new friend,” Private Marco said as he went past her.

  “They are in among the parts. Keep an eye out. High and low. They like to ambush,” Mysti warned.

  “Frack me,” the Neomastiff growled.

  “Not on my worst day,” the PFC replied tartly as she shot at red eyes above the hangar office. The eyes retreated. “Contact, we've got more robots high and low. Watch yourselves. Gunny's gotten a bit chewed up. We're going to need a medic in here,” she said into her implant microphone.

  “Hell with that,” Anastasia panted as she spat blood and teeth. She grimaced, feeling at her mouth then she reached up to where her implants said she'd sustained an injury. She probed it gently then withdrew her hand to see blood. A lot of blood. “Frack. Okay, maybe I do,” she muttered as she stared at it.

  She turned to look at the head of the robot still clamped around her leg at mid-calf. Her HUD frizzed again then showed her an overlay of her leg. One of the bones was broken and she had teeth embedded in her flesh. One had nicked an artery. “Yeah, that's not coming off until someone clamps the artery and does the job right,” she said, gingerly propping herself up against the dented and broken wall.

 

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