Scouts Out: Books One and Two

by Danny Loomis

  He propelled himself onward and began to closely scan the sides of the tunnel. He’d been told there was a hideout every hundred meters along these smaller tunnels. Just then a bullet whipped by, the bang of an alliance weapon sounding almost at the same time. Damn! He hadn’t thought about ricochets. He sped up, desperation giving him additional speed.

  There, on the right. He braked to a halt and began to scrabble at the floor of the tunnel. A round door popped open as his fingers depressed a small handle. He backed into the hole as several more rounds whipped by, one grabbing at the back of his uniform. The cork-shaped door pulled shut and sealed him away from the rising barrage of fire. For several seconds he laid there and gasped for breath, before rolling onto his back and sitting up. His head brushed the ceiling of the two meters in diameter cell. The darkness lightened, and a dim illumination increased in the rear of the chamber.

  Mark spotted a small cooler and scrambled over to it. Inside was enough bottled water and food concentrates for three days. He twisted the lid off one of the bottles and guzzled it, forcing himself to stop after the first four or five gulps. Hadn’t had food or drink since becoming separated from his platoon. A muffled Bam sounded, as someone hit the tripwire of his booby trap. He gave a half-snarled laugh. That should ruin someone’s day.

  His mood brightened as he remembered more of the hurried briefing they’d received days—weeks?—ago. Something about a communications device in these hidey-holes… There. Behind the cooler was a small box with wires to the wall. He opened it, took out the ear plug and inserted it. Flicking on the power he pushed the alert button, and settled down to wait.

  Several minutes later he received a reply. “This is Central. Go ahead.”

  “This is Gunnery Sergeant Hartwood. Anyone there from Alpha Company?”

  Another voice came on the line. “Gunny! We’d given you up for dead. Where are you?”

  “Not sure. I’m in one of those fancied up spider holes we got briefed about. Who’s this?”

  “Ensign Wilbert. We’ve put out a call to your platoon. They got back two days ago.”

  “Any casualties?”

  “Four wounded, one badly. You were listed as missing in action. One of the enforcers is telling me you should look on the back of the commo device. There’s a four letter designation there.”

  “Yeah, C101.”

  “We’ve got you located. About five klicks from us. Sit tight, Gunny. We’ll have a patrol pick you up.”

  “Will do. By the way, tell ’em to keep their eyes open for a squad of Alliance pukes in the same vicinity.”

  “Roger, Gunny. Out.”

  Mark leaned back, and gave a long sigh of relief. The pent-up stress from running and hiding for the past several days oozed out. He crawled over to a sleeping pallet only marginally softer than the floor and started removing his boots. By the time he’d unlaced the second one he was fast asleep.

  * * *

  Sergeant Fiengold had been following the luminescent patch on the back of Enforcer Miyama’s head scarf for what felt like hours before he noticed it was no longer moving. He froze in place, and was bumped by the person behind him. Several more bumps could be felt, as succeeding bodies piled into one another. Fiengold grimaced in disgust, wishing for the umpteenth time he was anywhere but here. He couldn’t think for the life of him what he’d done to piss off the First Sergeant. Detailing him and two of his fire team to ride herd on this platoon of newly trained Edoans was bad enough. Going into action with them was another level of bad.

  He turned and patted the grey-haired man on the shoulder. “Remember,” he whispered, “watch the person ahead of you. Keep your spacing at five meters. Pass the word back.” Facing to the front he rolled his eyes heavenward. Give me strength, he thought. A touch on his arm by Enforcer Miyama brought him back to full alertness.

  “We are near the cavern, Sergeant. Do you wish to brief us here?” At Fiengold’s nod Miyama hissed and twelve people gathered round, the four squad leaders and their team leaders. Privates First Class Herrera and Steen were two of the squad leaders, with Miyama and the grey-haired guy, Eggers, the others.

  He laid a small map on the floor of the tunnel, and shone a dim light on it. “Alright, listen up. We’re goin’ into the cavern just around the corner and set up an ambush for the asswipes. Miyama and I’ll go in first to recon, ensure they haven’t gotten here ahead of us. Then I want first and second squads to set up firing points on the left side of the cavern, third and fourth on the right. Make sure you squad leaders check with the other squads. We need to interlock our fire for best effectiveness.”

  “What’s interlocking, Sergeant?” a girl asked who looked to be no more than fifteen.

  Fiengold rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. “That’s when you fire your weapon in the direction your team leader tells you to. Someone in another squad on the other side of the cavern will be doing the same in your sector of fire. This makes for lots of bullets bein’ brought on the ass of the asswipes.”

  “What’s an asswipe, Sergeant?” another girl asked, also in her mid-teens. Fiengold’s face colored as he heard Steen and Herrera trying to smother their snickers. Shit. The whole company’d hear about this. “Uh, it’s an—it’s another name for Alliance soldiers. We always come up with nicknames for the enemy when we’re on a mission.”

  He waved his hands. “Enough with the questions. I want first squad to send two men down the tunnel, on the far side of the cavern. Set some booby traps. That’ll let us know when they’re gettin’ close. Furthest out you go is one hundred meters. Fourth squad, in case everything gets ratfucked you’re to act as the rear guard while the rest of us beat feet.”

  “Sergeant, I’m afraid no one knows what ‘ratfuck’ means,” Miyama said.

  “Er, when everything goes to shit. Falls apart. Anyway, be aware the enemy’s weapons are loud when they fire, and they have a muzzle flash. Aim just above the flash and you should do alright. Make sure your weapons are set on three shot bursts. I don’t want anyone ripping off an entire clip at one stroke. Too wasteful. Any other questions? Then get with your troops and brief ’em. Enforcer Miyama and I’ll be right back.”

  Fiengold entered the cavern, peeled off to the left and Miyama right. Ten meters in Fiengold went to one knee and studied his surroundings. The large cavern was at least one hundred meters long by eighty wide, and over fifty high. Stalactites and stalagmites were everywhere, giving good cover for his forces.

  Quickly but quietly he worked his way to the far side, where a high arching entrance led off to the south towards Vanport. This was one of the direct routes into the Edoan stronghold, and had to be protected at all costs. His platoon had to hold for one day, long enough for a battalion sized element of Edoans to come on line through the training mill and be sent to the front.

  Fiengold stood at the far entrance and waved his forces on. They trickled in, underlining the sparse numbers of his force compared to what he needed to defend this important point. Two soldiers, PFC Herrera and one of his girls, sprinted by him, heading down-tunnel to set booby traps. Over half his force were kids or girls, something Fiengold still found strange. Didn’t seem to matter how old or young they were, they still fought. At least he hoped they could fight. He had a bad feeling about this.

  Within an hour he got the signal they were ready. He and Miyama inspected every position, made changes where necessary and continually stressed the importance of staying in their defensive position until told to drop back. Secondary defensive positions had already been established, and everyone had extra ammo for their needlers. On impulse he mined the entrances to the cavern so they could close them up at least temporarily. Dark shapes flitted among the stalagmites as the Edoans settled into their primary defensive spots, foxholes dug at least waist deep behind and alongside stalagmites.

  One piece of tactical training that had met with success had been the importance of hurry up and wait. Being set up in an ambush sometimes meant long periods of
waiting. The Edoans had proven to be exceptionally patient. This group was no different as the hours went by. Not a sound or telltale motion betrayed where they were dug in. Even Miyama finally commented on the ability of his newly trained soldiers to withstand the boredom of waiting. Fiengold spent the time admiring the beauty of the cavern. In the dim light of the glowing fungus he could see the wonderful admixtures of colors streaked through the entire display.

  The sudden crack of a flash-bang echoed from the watched tunnel. “Steady,” Fiengold whispered over his helmet comm. Each squad leader had been furnished communications to ease his command and control problems. Smoke swelled from the tunnel in enormous amounts. Fiengold switched his faceplate to infrared, and waited for signs of troops. He was not disappointed. Dozens of figures abruptly boiled into the cavern.

  “Fire!” he shouted, squeezing the trigger of his needler. Twenty rounds ripped from his pistol, causing a shrieking whine. Damn. Couldn’t even follow his own orders. As the numbers of enemy increased, Fiengold switched to his grenade launcher and began to lob rounds over their heads into the tunnel from which they came in overwhelming numbers. He rolled to the opposite side of the stalagmite as incoming fire got uncomfortably close.

  Enemy fire began to slack off as those still on their feet scrambled to safety behind anything that would turn a needle. Most began to fire and maneuver as they withdrew into the tunnel. Within minutes the last Alliance trooper had disappeared, leaving at least twenty unmoving bodies behind.

  “Squad leaders, gimme a sitrep. I need to know numbers of wounded or dead. Also how you’re doin’ on ammo.”

  Amazingly only three Edoans had been wounded, none badly. Thank God for small favors.

  “Herrera, did you get that video bug planted in the tunnel while you were puttin’ out booby traps?” Fiengold asked.

  “Yeah, Sarge. But if it goes active they’ll spot it right away.”

  “We’ll have to chance it. Give it a one-second burst and see what’s in there.”

  Ten seconds later Herrera was back on line. “Looks like about two-three hundred sittin’ and waitin’, Sarge. More movement back down the tunnel far as the camera can see. They didn’t even notice the bug, it’s still active.”

  Oh, hell. At least two companies, probably a battalion of storm troopers. Now what? With a sigh he straightened and squared his shoulders. As his First Sergeant always said, being a leader was mostly just trying to look like you knew what you were doing. “Miyama, get your squad almost on top of the entrance. I want concentrated fire on the next bunch that comes out. After ten seconds, drop back and we’ll blow the entrance once we let about a platoon of ’em in the cavern. Maybe we can whittle ’em down some. Eggers, get your squad to put a lot of antipersonnel mines down the center of the cavern. We brought twenty-five per squad. Get ’em from everyone else. Herrera, Steen, move your squads to form a V shape. We want to funnel the asswipes down the center of the cavern much as possible. We probably got no more than ten minutes before they attack again, so move it!”

  Well within the ten minute limit everything had been completed. Not with the effortless ease of a combat veteran, but bustling enthusiasm worked just as well.

  “Eggers, your squad is the last line of defense. No one gets past you. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir. No one past my line.” Opening his mouth to correct him, Fiengold paused. If it made him happy to call an NCO ‘sir’, he’d let him do it. Chances were pretty good they’d all be dead in the next few hours anyway.

  “Miyama, tell your troops to put their weapons on full auto. Just have a couple of extra magazines close by so they can change ’em out real quick.”

  “Will do, Sergeant. My squad wishes me to pass on their thanks for the honor you have bestowed upon them by placing them in the fore.”

  Fiengold shook his head in amazement. These Edoans might be green troops, but they sure tried hard.

  The next attack developed quickly. Smoke poured out of the tunnel, followed by dozens of Alliance troops. This time they attempted caution, but were caught flat-footed when the Edoans opened up from close range. With eleven needlers on full auto the whining roar counterpointed the thunderous blast of noise made by dozens of Alliance rifles. Thirty seconds went by with no let-up before the blast of sound dissipated. Again the Edoans had beaten back the assault.

  “Move back, Miyama,” commed Fiengold. “Watch out for the mines in the center. Eggers, get ready to receive Miyama’s squad. They’ll help strengthen your line. The rest of you, keep your butts down and your eyes open. They’ll be back a little quicker this time.”

  Miyama’s squad filtered back, carrying two still forms. Several others had wounds being hastily bound as they moved.

  Seconds later the next attack came, this time in the form of dozens of grenades being thrown or launched from the mouth of the tunnel. Before any had landed Fiengold and Steen had launched grenades of their own as a counterpoint back into the tunnel. A continuous rolling blast enveloped all of them, and continued for an interminable time. At the first sign of letup, Fiengold peeked around the stalagmite sheltering him. Luckily no one had been close to that end of the cavern. Large holes could be seen in the floor of the cavern through the choking dust and debris.

  “Heads up, troops. Make sure you’re back on three-shot setting with your needlers.” Fifteen seconds, he thought. Give ’em fifteen seconds, then blow it. He gripped the remote detonator for a second, and laid it by his side as he hitched around for a better firing angle.

  A flood of Alliance troops entered the cavern, all of them sprinting full out. Again the roar of their weapons firing on full auto reached overpowering levels. Too many. Have to block the tunnel now, thought Fiengold. As he reached for the detonator, a blow to his shoulder knocked him back. Dazedly he rolled over, and felt a spreading wetness on his uniform. He scrabbled around with his right hand—something wrong with his left—located and flipped the switch on the detonator.

  The ensuing rumble was almost unnoticed due to the ferocity of the fire fight that had developed, but there were no more enemy soldiers coming out of the tunnel. Those left were being forced back towards the middle of the cavern, where they again sprinted for the far end. Sharp bangs of anti-personnel mines could be heard as the enemy troops reached the hastily set-up mine field. Needler fire poured into their flanks, thinning their numbers. Still they advanced at a frighteningly rapid pace.

  Many died before reaching the final defensive lines. Still, fifty of them were on their feet as they overran those positions. Edoans appeared from everywhere as the flanking squads collapsed their lines onto the enemy. Violent hand-to-hand ensued. Fiengold, badly wounded, had managed to pull himself into a position from where he had a ring-side seat.

  Out of the boiling mass of dust and violence he freeze frame on individual actions. One girl leaped on the back of a soldier, repeatedly stabbing him with her knife. She was ripped from her victim by another, who plunged a large knife of his own into her side just as she slashed his throat in a spray of blood. All three collapsed together, in an embrace. Miyama appeared for a moment, his short staff now tipped with a sharpened point. With every lunge another Alliance trooper collapsed. A track of death followed him.

  Herrera spun into his line of sight, grappling with two of the enemy. Fiengold managed to bring his weapon up and shot one off his back. Split seconds later Herrera broke the neck of the other. Everything wavered in front of Fiengold, turned to black. He slid to the floor, unconscious.

  Sergeant Fiengold came back to awareness, and tried to reach for his needler, but couldn’t move his arms. Too weak. “Take it easy, trooper,” a familiar voice said.

  That was… “Captain Stanton! Sir, what’re you doin’ here?” he croaked. Jeez, he sounded bad. Thirsty, too.

  “It’s okay, Ernie. You’ve been unconscious for three days. We moved the first Edoan Battalion up. In fact we’ve just got here. Your soldiers saved all of us. Seems there was a major offensive developing,
but you blunted it.”

  “How many—how many of my platoon made it?”

  “It was bad. Twenty-three dead, only two unwounded. According to Herrera, once you passed out the Edoans went crazy, thought you’d died. You seem to’ve performed miracles with them. They drug you out of the cavern and stripped the enemy dead of their grenades and any other explosives they could find. When the Alliance dug through to begin their attack again, they counter-attacked. Chased ’em a quarter mile back down the tunnel, then blew it in for fifty meters of its length. No one will be attacking through that avenue for some time to come.”

  “Shit, sounds as if they did better without me.”

  “I suppose that’s why they wrote ‘Fiengold’s Fort’ over the entrance. Take a look.”

  With the captain’s help he managed to roll over. The dark red letters were barely visible. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “They dragged a couple of Alliance corpses in here and used their blood for the lettering. I’m told they’re going to spray a clear perma-seal over it. Means those words will be here long after we’re gone. You might say you’re their number one hero. Just an opinion, Lieutenant.”

  “Lieutenant?” Fiengold croaked, wondering if he was dreaming all this.

  “Yes. You’re now our main tactical liaison with the Edoans. Once you’re back on your feet they want you to direct their overall defensive strategy. You rest now. We’ll move you back when the medics say we can.”

  A black-clad form, left arm in a sling, materialized next to Captain Stanton.

  “How are you, my friend?” Enforcer Miyama asked.

  Tears threatened to overwhelm Fiengold for a moment. “Miyama. Hey, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for so many to die.”

  “But for you we would all have died,” he said. “It has been my pleasure and privilege to serve you.” He took Fiengold’s hand and held it. “And now if you think you have the strength, your platoon wishes to congratulate you on your promotion.”