Spartan could see she needed more, so he stopped halfway up to the next level, well away from prying eyes.
"Kanjana. Nakoma is an animal, but she does have resources, and knowledge of the capital we don't possess. I intend on using her to open up a new front, and when I'm satisfied she's fully committed, we will strike."
"How will you know she's fully committed?"
Khan laughed.
"My dear. You should have worked this out already. Nakoma is going to be a diversion. She'll start the fight, and by the time we arrive, it might be too late for her."
Spartan seemed to like that.
"Yes, it would be a shame if we arrived just a little too late, wouldn't it?"
Kanjana raised her eyebrows as she listened to what Spartan was saying. This was the first time in the many years they'd worked together he'd sounded so cold, and so clinical about what amounted to an execution. For a few seconds, she even wondered if this was just another of Spartan's infamous ruses. But a cursory look confirmed something else going on, and as she looked into Spartan's eyes, she saw fatigue. She hadn't seen that for a long time now. Spartan knew what she was thinking before it even happened.
"Kanjana. This has to end, and if that means sacrificing that creature, so be it."
CHAPTER SEVEN
3km East of Fortress Alpha, Southern Depression
A gentle glow from the small defensive position back in the previous tunnel provided minimal light in the next section. Spartan had selected it as a holding location for his team, purely due to it being a small hub between different tunnels, and that gave them options if things went South. There was also the fact that a small vertical airshaft ran to the surface, providing a minuscule amount of light, plus a source of much needed air.
"Stay frosty, they could be in any of these tunnels right now."
Spartan's image intensifier technology in his armour could amplify available light, but once extinguished, only artificial light or imaging could help. He moved cautiously, using every last piece of light he could. He glanced at mapping data on his helmet overlay and tried to put himself in the mind of his enemy. Coloured shapes marked the known position of Byotai blocking units, and the breach in the front-line was relatively easy to spot. There were still more than a dozen tunnels, of which half were navigable. Security drones and cameras should have provided a tactical overview of them all, but something in the last three hours had knocked out each and every one of them.
They're here, and they don't want to be found.
The very fact they had the audacity to penetrate the front-lines showed something had changed in the last few days. Spartan had prepared his forces well, and each attempt to breach the fortified tunnels had left their new enemy with heavy losses.
They keep getting beaten back on the surface, so they hit us down here...and still fail.
Spartan's mind raced, but no matter what options he considered, they all came back to the fact they were after prisoners, prisoners with a direct connection to him.
They want to get to me. That's their new strategy. It has to be.
He moved on and then paused. Years of combat experience told him when there was imminent danger, and something deep down warned him to be wary. He'd left most of the unit further back to wait for his signal, but he couldn't just keep still. So Spartan had brought one fireteam along to check each of the connected and collapsed tunnels, just to be sure. He took another few steps and watched as the wall to his left disappeared. Darkness filled the next part of the tunnel, his mixed mode imaging system temporarily inactive to avoid alerting enemy units.
Spartan lifted his carbine and took aim while also raising his left arm. As one, the small party of mercenaries and militia paused and then shifted to the cover offered deep underground. Distant gunfire could be felt through the dense flooring material, but at this far below the surface, it was all but impossible to pin down the location.
Shapes moved on Spartan's mapping data on his helmet overlay, and he checked the changes before letting out a short sigh of relief. He then glanced back at the others. He sensed the tension among them, especially as they all knew how many enemy kill teams were in the area. This was a risky mission, but the payoff was worth it, at least to Spartan and Khan. Though both considered the chance of it being a ruse to get Spartan and Khan away from the safety of their fortress. It was a possibility, but Spartan wasn't prepared to let this one go.
A Byotai moved to Spartan's flank and held up a powerful beam lamp. He looked to Spartan who gave him a slow nod. The lamp flashed on, and for a tiny fraction of a second, the view from the helmet went completely black; a standard safety feature on all military helmets and visors to protect both the eyesight, and any night vision that had been acquired. As his vision returned, Spartan relaxed. The tunnel was another of the collapsed points in the underground system. He marked it on his mapping unit and then turned around.
"All clear, back to the holding position."
The small unit turned and retraced their steps to rejoin their comrades. Spartan moved through them and took up his position at the front. As they clambered over the broken masonry littering the floor of the tunnel, Spartan detected a low mood in the group. It wasn't in the way they spoke, but the way they moved.
"Not much longer now."
He tried to sound buoyant and lively, but the nearest young alien soldier walking a short distance behind him merely nodded. Never before had Spartan fought in a conflict with so many different races working together, and never with such a rapid fall in morale. If it hadn't been for the basic translator circuits, he would have been at a serious disadvantage. Spartan might be an incredible fighter, and a great leader in times of conflict, but he was hardly the best-educated man in the Alliance. He could speak no foreign languages and had little to no understanding of alien tongues, even though others picked up the words with relative ease, much to his frustration. The translator engine in Spartan's armour did a rough job converting the alien's words, and as usual, Spartan smiled as he listened to the off sounding generated words and again tried to reassure those around him.
"What is it, son?"
The soldier opened his visor so they could see each other's faces as they spoke.
"We should hit them while they are down here. We can do some serious damage. Down here, they don't have the numbers, or the aircraft supporting them. It gives us a way to hurt them."
Spartan smiled, trying his best to look disarming. Those few words told him more about the situation than an entire series of reports ever could have. He tried to smile once more, and this time it came out as more of a grimace. He winced in frustration.
We should have won this by now. One battle and we could have been going home.
"Son. Sometimes it's better to hit them on their way home, and not when they're fresh and ready. You'll see."
The young soldier looked up and placed a hand on the masonry. Underground it was cool, but all of them could tell what was still happening on the surface. Spartan felt the mood reflected by these soldiers, and they had changed a great deal in such a short amount of time.
"We hide, all the while Karnak burns. This is not war, Major."
Spartan sighed.
"This is exactly what war is, cruel, violent, and destructive. It's never like it is in books and movies."
He licked his lips and then beckoned towards the stack of four rifles leaning against the wall.
"Just be ready. We'll be in action again soon."
The young soldier picked up his weapon, and Spartan moved a little further inside the tunnel while checking his mapping data. He didn't want to go any further until scans confirmed his target’s route.
Can't be much longer now.
He looked to the ceiling, trying to tell if there truly was more warmth spreading from the carnage above them. The firestorm that raged through Tanau told the story of the new war better than any poet could have described. An entire city block burned with such heat, the metal glowed white and
melted, while stone and masonry cracked and splintered under intense temperature. A strong wind swept through Tanau, sending dust into the shattered remains of the great settlement, as well as fanning the flames of the great inferno. A number of smaller fires continued to burn in the rest of the settlement, and the never-ending sounds of machinery served as a reminder of the many crews working to find survivors buried in the rubble. Tanau, like so many of urban areas, was a city at war.
Who knows?
He nodded as another soldier moved past, and then watched as the rest moved about, making sure they were ready for what was to come. They were one of many groups fighting the war underground, but of them all, none were closer to the heart of the enemy's stronghold than them. Spartan waited for his chance, deep underground, and just metres from their enemy's extraction point. Lacking the numbers to fight them indefinitely, Spartan had elected to wait until they returned from their mission, tired, and perhaps more likely to make mistakes. The Byotai had pushed him to engage in a headlong fight, but he'd refused. There were several different arteries they could have used in their aggressive push inside the Byotai lines, but just three routes back. And Spartan had already deployed substantial forces to two of them, with strict orders to be as noisy as possible, without being too obvious.
Spartan reached the others and stopped for a breather. He wasn't tired, but the fatigue of constant fighting had at least some effect on him. The real problem was the mission, and the possibility of failure. Just thinking that one of his old friends could be facing death at this very moment left a dull ache in his chest. He kept yawning, a classic sign of stress and fatigue.
We cannot fail, not this time. We need this win. Hell, I need this win!
After seeing Nakoma leave the fortress, he'd felt uneasy. Even with a heavy escort, and hostages left behind, his forces were vulnerable. Nakoma couldn't be trusted, his sole security knowing that she'd been betrayed to a greater extent than Spartan had. Even so, there was always the future to think about, and one thing above all else; Nakoma would have to be dealt with. Spartan had imagined killing her in a hundred different ways, and as time went on, the ways become more and more varied. Today his objective could not have been clearer. He was here to save the suspected prisoners and inflict damage on the enemy, and he'd do that in whichever way he thought best. There was little he could do against such overwhelming forces on the surface, but he was still the master of the tunnels.
We'll have to do this the old fashioned way, one scrap at a time.
Spartan clenched his teeth, doing his best to keep his bitterness to himself, even as the dull crump of distant bombs reminded him of this new reality. They'd tried to stay on the surface, but the new enemy was proving far more aggressive than Nakoma had ever been. He recalled those last hours where he'd found his enemy before him, when he'd expected to cut the head off the snake and reveal himself as the saviour of Karnak. He could sense the bitterness and loathing so many aimed now at him and his mercenaries, a failure unfairly placed at his feet. A pair of lightly armoured Byotai looked at him, and Spartan was sure he could feel their disappointment.
If it weren't for us, you'd be in chains, all of you.
Spartan's patience was starting to wear thin, and it took all of his self-control not to snap. Instead, he checked the status of his suit, making sure the power levels and sensors were working correctly. As he checked, he spotted the broken sensor markers in other parts of Tanau. The scanner drones left behind by his patrols provided an incomplete, but still useful picture as to what was happening up there, and this new information wasn't good.
A pair of militia carried an ammunition crate back into the tunnels, and Spartan watched them go. It felt like they'd been down there for years, and not just the few weeks since their failed attempt to end the war. He pushed back his frustration and activated his communications channel.
"Khan, are you reading me?"
There was almost no delay as his old friend answered.
"Yeah, I'm here."
"We're ready and waiting down here. What have you got for me?"
"Good, we're in position, too. Sensor drones confirm their capture teams are heading back. Looks like they have at least two large prisoners with them, and they are taking their time. They tried the Southern tunnel, but the thermite charges persuaded them to come this way instead."
Spartan swallowed painfully, and then asked the question he didn't want to ask.
"Is he with them?"
Khan paused, though it might have been just so that he could check the data. It took so long Spartan thought he might be trying to cover something up.
"Unknown. Could be him, or some of the wounded Blood Pack. But they were near the crash sites to the West of the city. If he was alive, then they probably have him. They have a big team, so it must be an important mission."
A series of alerts activated inside Spartan's armour, and he sighed with frustration. It was hard enough trying to stay alive underground, without the constant and diverting interruptions from above.
"All units, this is Spartan. We have another imminent air assault incoming to Tanau. They are trying to distract us from the snatch mission. Take cover and wait it out."
Acknowledgements came back from the scattered warriors, including the handful of squads still inching their way about on the surface. Spartan knew they could do little against the attack, yet the militias and armed civilians wouldn't be able to resist striking back, even though it might reveal their own hiding places. It didn't take long for the calm of the early hours to be broken by the sound of hundreds of guns from those hidden in the ruins. Scores of tracer rounds leapt up into the sky from rifles and machines doing their best to strike the invisible enemy. Few came anywhere near the armoured spacecraft as they hurtled down from high altitude.
When will they ever listen?
A poor quality image appeared in the lower corner of his visor. One part was completely broken due to the failed imaging elements, but it still showed enough for him to know this attack was real. The line of twelve bone-white Ma'heen assault gunships were the fastest strike aircraft in the Star Empire's arsenal, and by diving from a great height just breached the hypersonic threshold at three and a half thousand kilometres per hour. Their new colour schemes made them stand out against the dull sky and barren surface of the planet. The brightly lit reptilian iconography attached to the flanks of the spacecraft shone like neon signs, identifying their allegiance, as well as their contempt for the attempts of the defenders to stop their attack. As the bombs dropped, Spartan called out to his people one last time, but it was too late.
"Stay down!"
Spartan tensed his body and waited impotently, as these powerful craft pulled away from the city, their bombs tumbling down in a sickening spiral. These were not the precision weapons used by the Alliance or Byotai, but free-fall bombs designed to maim, kill, and destroy indiscriminately. One by one the warheads bit deeply into the rock, stone, and metal of the city, tearing holes in roofs and blasting walls apart. The city was already a great ruin, but that didn't stop these spacecraft from smashing anything still standing.
Those underground threw themselves to the nearest walls or down to the floor, as a single massive explosion shook the ground. It took less than a minute for the second wave of bombs to reach them. As they fell, the external sirens pulled in the cool air to create a terrible screeching sound. Those unfortunate enough to still be above ground scattered, though there was little chance of escape from the indiscriminate attack. Hundreds of small flashes marked the impacts of the thermite incendiary bombs. These terrible weapons combined flammable material, mixed with thermite and magnesium paste to create the ultimate terror weapon. As each container split open, it spilled its contents onto civilians, soldiers, streets, buildings, walls, and vehicles. The initial explosions were terrible, but the burning heat melted bone, flesh, and even metal armour in a matter of minutes. That single close barrage finally ended more than a hundred years of history, t
he massive dome over the ancient basilica finally breaking apart. Half of the architectural masterpiece split apart, sending vast chunks of masonry down into the ruined structure. By the time the largest sections were on the ground floor, the remainder of the roof groaned and subsided by another three metres. A testament to the great Byotai architects of the past that any of the dome remained in place.
The once proud civic building now lay shattered by weeks of fighting. Most of the surrounding buildings still burned from the last aerial assault, but this time it was the turn of the grand basilica. The heart of the old administrative district lay a burnt out hulk, its massive dome half broken and caved in to the rest of the structure. Every building bore the scars of the fighting, yet for all the damage, thousands of Byotai still toiled to repair what remained, trying to survive in the appalling conditions. Only the wailing of the warning sirens stopped their work and sent them hurrying to whatever shelter they could find.
Not much more, then we strike.
The air attacks were now a daily occurrence, but this one seemed heavier than normal, and that made Spartan wonder if they were using it to cover something else. As the volume of falling bombs decreased, he sent a wide-area transmission.
"Be ready. Their kill teams often move in right after attacks to pick off the confused and the wounded. If you find any, kill them! Teach them a new lesson today."
Spartan signalled to the squad of Byotai militia waiting patiently to move into position. Each waited in silence, their eyes locked firmly on him. Spartan was the one man that could bring them salvation, or that was what they were always being told.
"We will make this right."
The tunnel was narrow and half filled with discarded crates, ammunition stores, and broken equipment. Improvised lighting hung from the ceiling, bathing the area in a dull yellow glow that did little to improve their morale. They were the Rats of Tanau, their fear obvious, even though their faces were covered. Even thirty metres below the surface, and hidden away in the labyrinth of maintenance tunnels, there was no more than minimal safety. Buildings collapsed above them, weakening the tunnel system and causing multiple tunnel collapses. Spartan grimaced as the ceiling broke away, half filling the tunnel with dirt. A metal girder slid down and impaled a Byotai militiaman in the chest. The young warrior looked to Spartan and screamed, while blood dripped down from his mouth. At the same time, the screams of the trapped and injured filled his ears.
War Zone (Star Crusades: Mercenaries Book 5) Page 11
