Redemption (The Boris Chronicles Book 4)

by Paul C. Middleton

  One of her brothers had refused to combine his band with the assault, instead of retreating to the West. The other saw what their father had done as a breach of everything he had taught his children. While grieving over the necessity of his father's death, he blamed that man, and not his sister.

  Junior leaders had taken over after senior leaders hesitated. Most of the rank and file partisans were on board. Some of the top leaders seemed to want the interminable warfare to continue. Olaf even understood why.

  With the never-ending conflict, they saw their leadership as never in doubt. Without it, those leaders could lose status and control. They had been fighting for so long they knew little else in life.

  They would need help from the outside to survive and prosper after the conflict ended. The only logical source of it was through Olaf, from Boris’s lands.

  Others were highly supportive because they were so tired of the fighting. The partisans were a distilled group of fighters. Although they were less disciplined than he was used to, they still had some of the attributes of military discipline and loyalty.

  Their training, those that had survived, made up the difference. Rather than the formal training of Boris’s forces, every day was training. Survival, for them, had been all the training Olaf could have asked of anyone.

  Those who had actively objected to the plan were being prepped to be sent away, to the North, under the guard of those who would make up the northern reserve and assault force.

  Watches from his people had been synchronized. All six parts of his assault force had at least two.

  Now that enough people in the leadership was on board with the plan, he communicated with Lilith again. “Can you link me through to the command of the relief force, please, Lil?”

  Olaf could almost feel the shy smile in her response. The implanted transceiver allowed much more than simple communication. Emotions and underlying images flowed through the link as well. <>

  A familiar, but unexpected, voice answered. “Olaf, why the fuck have you been silent? You should have called in when you crashed! Your dad was a mess, and I had to volunteer to take command down here to stop him from coming. That would have been a disaster!” It took Olaf a moment for the voice to register as Paul’s.

  <> Lilith scolded over the link, <>

  “What. The. Fuck. Boris is not going to be happy about that,” Paul said, then he paused and took a deep breath. Olaf could almost see Paul making a scrunching movement then a throwaway gesture with his hands.

  After he took another deep breath, he continued. “Situation report.”

  Olaf summarized the information his scouting of the base, the plan of attack and the rough layout of the base, as well as the numbers of the force that seemed to be moving in the direction of the relief force. He concluded with, “Even with the loss of a patrol, none of the partisans have detected a significant change in their operations. They sent a reinforced patrol to investigate the lost patrol, but that seems to be their SOP.”

  Paul sounded concerned when he said, “But you plan to assault this base while low on rations. With troops of unknown training or psychological state.”

  “Anatoly and Vlad have helped me do a field assessment of all the leaders and as many other individuals as possible. Thirty are being escorted with the force traveling north, and they will travel farther north. They are a mix of battle fatigue sufferers and those leaders who were ousted for objecting to the assault.” Olaf continued going over the details, the experience level, and the psychological state in his opinion.

  Concluding, he said, “Morale is high. This is the best opportunity these people have ever had. That your force was detected two days into movement is a concern. Either they have forces out closer to you than I estimated, or they pushed patrols out from their borders. If we are pushed back from the assault, we will filter back to your position.”

  “It is a bad option, everyone knows it. But at least four partisan bands have been wiped out by the tank and its weapon. They have to act now to take out the base while the tank is out of immediate range on the base. We will leave for the assault in seventy-two hours. If you can push scouts out to confirm the tank force location, that would be appreciated. Suggest Were scouts along the highway.”

  Paul grunted, then said, “Confirm. Will send out a special group tonight. Will dig in at least twenty-four hours out from contact. Any additional information on the weapon?”

  “Beyond the fact that it can target the shuttles before they can localize it? No. Do not use the shuttles to take it out. I have my only railgun with a team of Weres circling the base to take out the tank when it engages you. I hope they are in range before you engage.”

  “Understood. Will report your status to higher. Will try to obtain confirmation of tank route. Out.” Paul finished with a sigh.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Paul had cut it close. Less than thirty minutes before the deadline Olaf had given him there had been a report of the tank. It was about thirty-six hours out from the main body of the relief force. They were digging in like wombats in place on his orders. He had two 30mm mortars that he had sent behind the scouts to perform a few shoot and scoots.

  Firing from behind hills in a couple of places, they could hit and move out of the line of sight of the tank. With Weres defending them as they left, any patrol that ranged on them would be chewed up before they could take out the mortar teams.

  And even if the mortar teams were killed, their presence would keep the focus of the tank force on Paul. If they headed back now, Paul was close enough to chew them up with harassment from the rear. They had to move forward, force an engagement.

  The northern force was in position. The troops on the eastern flank should reach their assault point in the next thirty minutes. An hour after everyone was supposed to be in position the assault would begin—with the noonday sun. The Vampires might have a way to circumvent the usual sun sensitivity. Then again, they might not. Best to take every advantage they could.

  Every survivor of encounters with Vampire-led patrols had reported them at night. Their plan had to form around that detail.

  <<<>>>

  In bear form, Olaf was waiting with a pair of partisans ready to cut the first layer of razor wire. He would have to wreck the second line with his body. No one would be able to keep up with him.

  Waiting, he could hear every shuffle, every nervous movement, from the force behind him. He gritted his teeth at every sound. He knew the quiet sounds couldn’t be carrying to the enemy. But every single rustle ratcheted up his nerves.

  The minutes ticked by slowly. Oh, so slowly. Olaf must have looked tense, because the closest partisan murmured, “Fifteen minutes.” How he wished it was Stasia or one of his men there. But, in the end, the guerrillas had requested they be spread among the groups as trained advisers.

  Stasia had been picked to lead the southern assault group. It was the largest with a hundred and fifty stationed there. Olaf had a hundred and twenty-five in his own. The rest were in the Eastern group–the Fall-back position.

  Suddenly, the silence broke with gunfire to the east. If he could have sworn, he would have. On a hair trigger, the two partisans moved up and clipped the wire. Then everyone else froze, even Olaf, as thirty men swarmed out of the bunkers.

  He had been right. These men were no more disciplined than bandits. For all they knew, their returning patrol had been ambushed. The volume of gunfire to the east made it clear that there couldn’t be more than thirty men firing in addition to the Fallback group.

  Olaf held a paw to the side, and the assault group behind him froze. Straining his ears, he heard a single voice shouting, “Get back into position, soldiers! It could be a feint, damn it!”

  But no-one stepped from the bunker to back it up.

  Then a shot rang out, and someone near the fron
t of the mob that had been moving to the gunfire fell. Over speakers in the compound went an amplified voice. “Return to your posts or be shot. Now!”

  Olaf surged forward as the soldiers out of the bunkers hesitated. When he hit the second line of razor wire, he roared as it sliced into his paws. Even as thick as his hide was, it managed to cut. Still, he healed fast, and his roar had the additional advantage of making the undisciplined troops hesitate again.

  He charged forward hard. His claws shredded the wire where he smashed it into the ground. His armored bulk crushed it to the ground, a satisfying feeling of metal straining and snapping as his weight stressed it beyond its limits.

  Those with the wire cutters would widen it as the first assault team filtered through the gap he made.

  Inside the base perimeter, Olaf quickly made out his target, the bunker back from the others. He could already hear sniper fire from his observation site. Two of the machine guns opened up on him, but he was moving faster than they could track.

  The first assault team moved along the inside of the razor wire, half firing at the machine gun posts as the other half surged forward. The fire and maneuver tactics were utterly unnecessary. Distracted by the gunfire from the east, panicked by the bear in armor that had burst through the razor wire, they had tunneled in on Olaf. They charged as soon as they realized they were under no threat. The lead group charged the closet gun pit.

  The snipers had already taken out the three gun-pits that they could target. They were now working on the troops frozen in shock at the carnage that had burst in amongst them.

  The stench of death hung heavy over the entire base. It made Olaf feel nauseous, but he focused on the task at hand. He was fast approaching the bunker. Rather than risk the door, he approached one of the vision slits in the side. Stomping on the charge, lightly for him, and he felt the trigger fuse break. He had about ten seconds before it blew. Knowing how fast he was, but not knowing how fast any Vampire inside might be, he counted to five.

  ‘One bloody, two bloody, three bloody…’

  Then he threw it in and started counting again. At two bloody, not having heard any movement, he moved away from the bunker as fast as he could. The explosives that Lilith had come up with were more powerful than C4. The amount used in the satchel charge was not ‘just enough’ kill—it was complete overkill. Even with the bunker walls to absorb most of the explosion, he didn’t want to be too close when it went off.

  He was over a hundred meters away when the charge went off. He was still thrown onto his face.

  Sniffing the air, all he could smell was the Vampire stench of old, rotted, blood. Even the flame and explosive odor didn’t penetrate it.

  Olaf now knew why the observation point had never been found by the Vampires. They wouldn't have been able to identify individual scents that close over the stench of death that came from the reinforced cave entrance. The smell that could only come from a group of Vampires living there for decades.

  And it was overwhelming. Olaf looked around and saw groups of soldiers assaulting the bunkers.

  The dull thuds of grenades through the slits and groups of ten moving in to clear the bunkers could be seen.

  Here and there he could see fallen partisans. At least twenty were down. Some were being aided by comrades. Others had people grieving over them. But the loses should have been higher. Luck had been on their side.

  The gunfire from the east had finished sometime before his hearing fully returned. He could see a figure trotting down the roadway towards them. He hoped the casualties had not been extensive in that group. He had deliberately placed most of those who showed signs of battle fatigue in it.

  That left the cave. Olaf had to assume there were at least three Vampires in it. As well as an unknown number of Nosferatu. He wished there were at least some shotguns amongst his force. Invading those caves was going to get bloody. None of the AK variant rifles that both of his forces used were a particularly effective weapon in cave fighting, especially not in cave where they were fighting against Nosferatu.

  <<<>>>

  Olaf shifted back to human form to organize a group to assault the cave. Others from his platoon were organizing a team to take perimeter watch while seventy or more rifles were aimed at the entrance in short order.

  All those involved had heard at least tales of the Nosferatu. The remaining Weres from his bodyguard approached him, as did several of the group leaders.

  Before Olaf could even say a word, Anatoly said, “Don’t even think of it, Olaf. We’re coming. You are not walking into a cave with at least twenty, if not more, Nosferatu and probably three full Vamps alone.”

  Sighing, Olaf nodded. Then, after thinking about it, he said, “No more than fifteen in the lead group. Twenty in reserve. At least two Weres stay with the perimeter in case it takes until nightfall, and we have leakers. It seems that they either can’t be out in the sunlight or have chosen to fight in the caves. Still, leaves us with the same problem. We have to fight them on their terms.”

  “There are lights in the caves,” one of the other Weres said diffidently. “You can see the glow from them around the corner.”

  “We can’t rely on lights being there the whole way. If that’s all there is, I’m going ahead alone in the dark areas. I’ve trained for fighting hand-to-hand while blind. I doubt many in the group have. Besides, what if they turn them off to ambush us?”

  “All the bodyguards have flashlights or gun lights,” Anatoly reminded him.

  “But we need some of them to stay with the perimeter force. We don’t want to have to track down an escaped Vampire,” Olaf responded.

  Anatoly shrugged. “Have them trade with the assault group. All of them can use the 47s most of the partisans have. There aren't that many differences with the rifle we use. In a cave fight, it'll be trigger and bayonet anyways.”

  The group nodded grimly. Olaf said, “Get it organized, then we take it to these bloodsuckers. Now, I need something to eat before we begin.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Olaf was relieved to finally be in the cave and hunting. It should have taken fifteen minutes to get the assault team ready. Instead, it had taken nearly two hours. It seemed every single one of his bodyguard wanted to argue with him being the scout. Two had tried to show they could withstand it in wolf form.

  They had ended up on the ground retching in disgust and writhing in pain from the stench coming from the cave. It was just too pungent for their animal form nose, and it would only get worse the farther into the cave they went.

  Somehow, continued exposure was allowing Olaf to ignore it. With the modifications Lilith had made to his father’s line, his sense of smell was not significantly weaker as a human compared to his bear form.

  The biggest problem was that he could not smell anything else through it. Smell was not a particularly vital part of fighting blind, but it did feed into the other senses.

  None of that changed the fact that he was the person in the group most suited to be scouting ahead. In his bear form, he could take more punishment than anyone else, and it was most likely that the Nosferatu would be sent ahead of their masters.

  If they tried to feed on him, they would at least be incapacitated according to Lilith. Something about that amused him. But Olaf wished that she had made changes to the nanites in the other Weres. He knew that the programming had been modified before he was born, so they were no longer potentially lethal to other humans.

  What had prevented her from giving other Shifters the same protection that he and his family enjoyed? Then again, maybe it had been a decision she had made on her own. After all, she was incredibly protective of them. At least in some peculiar ways.

  She was perfectly happy for them to throw themselves into battle for their own reasons. But she wanted them as capable as possible when they went into a fight.

  She wanted them to have every advantage, every edge, against anything else out there. Boris, on the other hand, would worry about any h
arm the modifications might cause those who carried them.

  Olaf shook himself. He needed to stop philosophizing and get ready for what would probably be the most brutal fight of his life.

  It would be the greatest risk he had ever faced. His other over-protector, his own father, had seen to that.

  As the first team reached the entrance to the underground complex, Anatoly took him aside quietly, asking, “Are you sure you want to scout, boss? I know I already said most of my piece, but there is one factor that you need to consider. You are holding all this together. Oskar might be able to if things go truly awful down there. If Stasia wasn't going, she might be able to as well. But you are the one that has and can.”

  Olaf looked at him, honestly considering the argument. Most of the other arguments people put forward had been based on Olaf being critical because of who his father was.

  This one made him reconsider them all in a different light. However, it was still missing a vital point. Olaf shook his head and said, “If we take catastrophic losses pulling these people out and I had stayed, people would turn away from me as a leader. There is no point in putting this off. No point in thinking there is another way. If I go down preventing catastrophic losses, my authority will devolve to you, Stasia, or Oskar. And it will be enhanced.”

  Taking a rigid stance, Olaf continued, “Besides, there isn't anyone else who could possibly take down a powerful Vampire. Not here. The closest one who might—might—be able to do as good a job as I can is Paul. And there is no way whatever is in there is gonna wait a week or more for more troops to get here. Even if Paul does manage to take out the tank with its accompanying force.”

  Anatoly nodded and let Olaf pass him. Once he was at the cave entrance, he shifted. They had managed to find a dozen shotguns for the assault teams in the bunkers and above ground camps, as well as six, thirty round magazines for each of the scavenged AA-12s.