Welcome To The Wolfpack

by Toby Neighbors

  “Yes sir,” came the reply.

  Chavez’s vid feed suddenly disappeared as he unlatched the seals on his battle armor and pulled the helmet off. Tallgrass held his helmet and Chancy took the Close Combat Specialists thigh holster and utility rifle. They waited just around the the corner as Chavez tucked his side arm into a band at the small of his back and walked toward the entrance.

  Dean enlarged the vid feed from the AAV hovering across the street. In the darkness Chavez didn’t appear to be in armor at all, just dark clothing. He was still a large, intimidating figure, but he tried the door and when he discovered that it was locked knocked lightly on the glass. Dean wished he could hear his Staff Sergeant, but the AAV didn’t have and audio feed, just visual.

  One of the security guards approached the door and twisted the lock, opening the door slightly to ask a question, but Chavez sprang into action. He jerked the door open and at the same time jabbed the guard in the throat with the knuckles on his left hand. His gun was out as he stepped through the doorway and fired two tranquilizer darts at the second guard before the man could react to the attack. Another two flechettes were fired into the first guard, and Chavez waited for any more threats to appear.

  “Looks clear,” Dean told Tallgrass and Chancy. “Advance.”

  The Demo team obeyed, hurrying around the building and joining Chavez who took his helmet and slipped it back on.

  “Staff Sergeant, get those guards hidden before anyone sees you and sets off some kind of alarm.”

  “Yes sir,” Chavez said, grabbing the first guard by the arm and dragging his limp body across the floor.

  “Tallgrass, Chancy, check that security board and see if they managed to sound some kind of alarm.”

  Dean felt helpless sitting in the back of the transport. He could see everything that was happening, but he couldn’t help and that nearly drove him crazy.

  “Everything looks normal,” Chancy said.

  “Green across the board, Captain,” Tallgrass added.

  “Good, find the power controls and shut them down,” Dean said. “I’m certain there will be a back up to keep the city from losing power, and once one system goes down that plant will be flooded with workers trying to get things back in line. We need the plant out of commission.”

  “No problem, Captain,” Tallgrass said.

  “We’re all over it,” Chavez said.

  Finding the control room was easier than Dean had feared. There were a few offices in the plant, and a large transistor in what looked like a garage with the main controls overlooking it from a nearby booth. It took longer to find the redundant controls. Tallgrass and Chancy did their work quickly and efficiently, after Chavez took out the workers manning the control board. The utility workers seemed bored and preoccupied which made shooting them with the tranquilizer flechettes a simple affair.

  “All done,” Chavez said, only half an hour after they had entered the building.

  “Get your asses back here on the double,” Dean said. “That was too easy, but once we blow the power things are going to get dicy.”

  A minute later Chancy, Tallgrass, and Staff Sergeant Chavez came running to the back of the transport. Adkins helped them inside.

  “Ghost get us moving,” Dean said. “Harper, Cat, can you recover your AAVs?”

  “It will take a few minutes,” Harper said.

  “Yes sir,” Cat responded.

  “Blow that power plant,” Dean ordered Tallgrass.

  They heard the booms even over the rumble of the transport engine. Dean watched the city from the rear of the transport and saw the power grid pop off as if someone had flipped a switch. He switched his comlink to the command channel.

  “Command, this is the Wolfpack platoon, requesting orders, over,” he said.

  “Wolfpack, this Major McDowell. Looks like our coms just came back online somehow. You’re the first platoon to report in. Where the hell are you, over?”

  “We’re in Vatican City sir,” Dean confessed. “Our shuttle made an emergency landing about fifty miles south of here. We have made our way into the city and managed to cut the power in hopes of reestablishing communications, over.”

  “Great initiative, Captain. I need to make contact with the other platoons, standby, Wolfpack. This Major McDowell, over and out.”

  Dean took a deep breath and then gave his platoon the thumbs up signal. They cheered in the back of the transport, but Dean could already hear the sirens racing toward the power plant. And he knew there would be fighters coming too, anyone in the capital with a weapon was their enemy and he still had to get his platoon to safety. His work was just beginning and there was no time to celebrate.

  Chapter 20

  Ghost drove the transport to a quiet street. They were low on fuel and Dean wanted to try and find a refilling station in case they were ordered to head for FOB Delta, but he didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention while he waited for his orders.

  Dean's attention was divided between snatches of conversation on the command channel, and monitoring the vid feeds that showed every direction around their position. The city, which had been bright with light from street lamps, business signs, and even from the windows of homes, had gone dark. There were vehicles with bright head lights, but not on the side street the transport was parked on, and for the moment Dean felt safe enough. His platoon waited quietly, the tension slowly building the longer they did nothing.

  Finally, after almost twenty minutes since they had cut the power to Vatican City, Major McDowell called for Dean’s platoon.

  “Wolfpack Platoon, this is Commander McDowell, do you copy, over?”

  “Command, this is Wolfpack. We read you Major, over.”

  “Report your position, Wolfpack, over,” the Major said in a tense voice.

  “We are in Vatican City, on the west side. We have commandeered a transport but it is low on fuel. We await instructions, sir, over.”

  “We’re in a real shit storm here, Captain. Only three shuttles made it down intact. Until you cut the power there, all our communications were jammed. That leaves your platoon in the best position to see this mission through. I’m ordering you to advance on the Pope’s palace at city center. I want control of it by sunrise, is that clear, over.”

  “Sir,” Dean said, trying not sound as shocked as he felt. “Are you saying you want us to attack the Pope’s walled compound, over?”

  “That’s right Captain. You take that compound, capture the Pope if you can. If he flees that’s fine, but you do whatever it takes to control Vatican City, over.”

  “Major, we’ll need support to advance on the compound, over,” Dean said.

  “Well, you’re shit out of luck and we’re running out of time. As long as the power stays off we can coordinate our rescue efforts and get the other platoons safely back to the established bases held by the rebels. If they find a way to get the power on and start jamming our frequencies again we may not have a chance to get off this rock alive. You have your orders Captain. You take that compound no matter what, understood. This is our one and only shot at derailing this mess before it gets out of control. Make it happen, Blaze. Command, over and out.”

  Dean sat back for a second, letting the reality of what he’d been ordered sink in. He had researched Rome Three before joining the crew of the Charlemagne and he knew that just like the Pope on earth, the Papal Palace and surrounding compound on Rome Three, was guarded by a well trained military force called the Swiss Guard. The soldiers on Rome Three weren’t Swiss, but they were still devoted soldiers who would give their lives to defend the man they considered to be God’s chosen vessel, the church’s supreme leader. And if Dean remembered correctly, the Swiss Guard on Rome Three included just over five hundred fighters.

  “Staff Sergeant, I want a personal inventory of weapons and munitions from every member of this platoon,” Dean ordered. “Ghost, get your battle helmet on and get this transport moving.”

  “Yes sir, what directio
n? And be advised that we are just under a quarter of a tank on fuel.”

  “That will be plenty. Head into the city, I’ll update you on our route as we go.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Dean pulled up the map of the city, overlaying it with his armor’s positioning system. He could see the movement of the transport via a bright blue dot. The map he had was actually a high resolution aerial photograph, which showed the city in bright sunlight. Dean zoomed in on the image, trying to gage a route to the Pope’s compound.

  “Ghost, go another five blocks then turn to your right,” Dean instructed. Keep going on that street until we reach the old city.”

  Vatican City had been the site of the original colony on Rome Three. Like almost every other colonized world, a large group of explorers, scientists, and engineers had been sent to Rome Three to ensure the planet was safe and viable for colonization. That group had built a small city, which had later been rebuilt with more permanent materials and was the epicenter for the industrial growth of the world. Still, it was considered holy ground by the church on Rome Three, who had annexed most of the buildings for the growing ecclesiastical members.

  “I want holes cut into the canvas,” Dean ordered his platoon. One on each side of the transport, another at the front above the cab. One HA Specialist at each hole, and two at the back, defensive positions with your utility cannons brought to bear.”

  “Pimrey, Adkins, take the back,” Chavez ordered. “I want Carver on the starboard side, Wilson on Port. Kliner, you set up above the cab. Get it done people.”

  “Tallgrass,” Dean said. “How much explosive is left?”

  “I have two resupplies of grenades for Harper and Cat. One shoulder mounted rocket with two rounds. That’s all sir.”

  “What’s the range on your AAV’s?” dean asked his Fast Attack Specialists.

  “Half a klick in any direction,” Harper said. “Five hundred feet ceiling. We can keep them in the air for maybe 12 hours without a recharge, depending on weather conditions.”

  “They’re all fully armed?” Dean asked.

  “Yes sir,” Sergeant Harper said. “Six low yield Thermobaric warheads each.”

  He was mentally adding up their explosive firepower. Essentially they had a lot of grenades and he wasn’t sure they would be strong enough to break through the wall that surrounded the Pope’s compound. The weakest section was almost certainly the main gate, yet it would also be the most heavily guarded area, and had a wide avenue that offered very little cover for the platoon if they had to attack the entrance.

  “We’ve been ordered to take the Pope’s compound,” Dean said over the platoon channel.

  “Holy shit!” Adkins said.

  “No way?” Harper added.

  “That’s impossible,” Chancy said.

  “Do we have back-up?” Chavez asked.

  “No back-up, no support,” Dean said. “We are one of three platoons that made it to the ground without crashing. The other two platoons are on rescue missions. We have to take control of Vatican City and ensure that however we were being jammed isn’t started up again.”

  “Isn’t there a big wall around the main compound?” Cat asked.

  “That’s correct, Valosky. And the Pope will be defended by his own personal army.”

  “The Swiss Guard,” Chancy interjected.

  “Holy Shit,” Adkins said again.

  “We have no idea how many soldiers are in the church’s militia here in the city,” Dean went on. “And no real idea how the compound is guarded. We have to find a way inside, and if we can, take the Pope hostage to bring hostilities to an end.”

  “It’s impossible,” Chancy said again.

  “We got company,” Ghost said as a flashing light appeared behind them.

  “Local law enforcement,” Pimrey said.

  “That’s the mission people. We take the Pope’s compound tonight, no matter what,” Dean said.

  “Sounds like a party,” Chavez said with gusto. “I love a good fight.”

  “Just remember the limitations of our non-lethal ammo,” Dean reminded them.

  “Two more bogeys,” Ghost informed the platoon.

  “Double check your weapons and make sure your armor is secure,” Dean said, before shifting all of his attention to the two vehicles pursuing them.

  There was another vehicle with flashing lights ahead, but Dean knew it was no match for the large transport they were in.

  “Watch for weapons,” Dean ordered.

  “I can take out those cars with grenades,” Harper volunteered.

  “No,” Dean said. “Save the grenades. We can’t fight everyone in this city. Our goal, has to be to reach the compound first.”

  “Looks like they’re trying to hem us in,” Ghost reported.

  Dean could see that another vehicle with a bright blue rotating light had joined the first ahead of the truck.

  “Change directions,” Dean said.

  Ghost downshifted, then took a sharp turn to his left, before punching the throttle and speeding up.

  “No chance we outrun them in this transport,” Chavez said.

  “I agree Staff Sergeant, but our non-lethal ammo won’t stop them.”

  “If they stop us before we reach the compound they could tie us up all night fighting,” D’Vris said as Ghost turned again.

  Shots rang out in the darkness. Dean had no idea who was shooting or what they were shooting at, but none of the bullets hit the cargo area of the transport.

  “Who has eyes?” Dean asked.

  “There’s no sign of whoever took the shot,” Adkins said. “It’s too dark to see much.”

  “Switch to low light if you can,” Dean ordered.

  He knew that even low light vision would be ruined by the strobing light from the police vehicles. They could switch to night vision but they would be blinded by the headlights of the other vehicles. That meant they were nearly blind to enemies as they raced along.

  “How much further to the old city?” Dean asked.

  “About a mile north of here, but if I turn we might get boxed in.”

  “Take that chance,” Dean ordered. “The longer they keep us driving the worse off we are.”

  “You got it, Captain,” Ghost replied.

  “Hang on people,” Dean ordered the platoon.

  “This is suicide,” Chancy growled, but everyone ignored him.

  The transport swerved hard to the right, the huge tires skidding on the asphalt roadway. Dean saw the two security cars stop at the far end of the street Ghost had just turned onto. They were still being pursued, and there was no way to turn to avoid the vehicles in front of them. Fortunately, the security vehicles were small, electric pod cars, just enough room for two officers and their gear. Even at bumper to bumper they barely reached across the narrow road.

  “Ghost,” Dean said. “Jump the curb and take out that lead vehicle.”

  “Yeeee Hah!” the sniper shouted and he floored the accelerator. “Everybody hold on to something.”

  Dean braced himself. There were no safety straps in the cargo bed of the transport. Everyone took hold of the long bench they were seated on, hoping it was strong enough to hold them fast if the transport crashed.

  The big truck lurched suddenly on the right side as Ghost drove up onto the curb. Only the right tires would fit, so half of the transport was still on the road. Then came the impact, a horrible, metal and glass shattering crash as the big transport smashed its way over the security vehicle. More gunshots rang out, this time accompanied by the sound of automatic fire from the Heavy Armor troops stationed on both sides of the transport. The non-lethal ammo chattered in puffs of pressurized gas as they were fired.

  “The cops are shooting!” Wilson said.

  “Pick them up, Adkins, Pimrey.” Dean ordered.

  More chugging reports sounded as the HA soldiers fired their utility cannons at the security officers who had exited their vehicles and were firing sidearms at
the large transport. One shot pinged off the shield of Adkins’ armor.

  “I’m hit,” he joked.

  Dean watched as the other vehicles stopped in the street, then tried to back up and resume the chase. He guessed it would take them at least a full minute to catch back up and he could see the tall, metal walls of the compound rising up in front of them.

  “Almost there,” Dean said. “Prepare for organized egress. Ghost, wedge this transport into the street to give us some cover.”

  “Yes sir,” Sergeant Bradus said.

  “We’re just south of the compound people,” Dean said. “Form up on me as soon as your boots hit the ground. Harper, Cat, launch your AAV’s as soon as we’re free of the transport.”

  “Yes sir,” the Fast Attack Specialists said in unison.

  “This is exactly what Force Recon was created for,” Dean said. “Stay sharp people. This is not an exercise. We go in, we kick ass, and we all go home.”

  “Force Recon,” Chavez announced. “First in the Fight!”

  “Tip of the spear!” everyone else chanted back.

  The transport suddenly veered to one side, the rear end sliding the opposite way as it came to an abrupt halt.

  “Port side!” Dean said. “Move! Move! Move!”

  Chapter 21

  The troops in Dean’s platoon jumped out of the side of the transport, following HA Private Tony “Atlas” Wilson who ripped the hole he had been manning into a section big enough for his massive body and armor to fit through.

  Dean was the last person out of the truck and his platoon was bunched tightly together. He silently reprimanded himself for not shouting out a formation, but they weren’t under fire yet.

  “Concave, Eagle, Pincer, Pistol, Neutral,” Dean shouted.

  The HA line formed in a slightly curved formation that angled back toward the transport. Harper took her position on the right side of the HA line, Cat took the left. Staff Sergeant Chavez was to Dean’s right, along with Demolitions Specialist Tallgrass. Corporal Chancy was to Dean’s left. Ghost used the jet pack that was part of his armor to ascend to the top of a building and take up watch.

  One glance toward their towering target showed movement on top of the compound wall, and emergency lights were giving the Pope’s palace a soft glow.