Revolution
Page 43
“No, there isn’t,” Rayne said, uneasily.
“The whole idea of the laser grenades is psychological intimidation,” she explained.
“Well, it worked. I’m intimidated,” Peter said.
“The fact that there is no actual explosion works to scare the enemy out of their wits. All they see is a blinding flash of light and then pieces of their colleagues start falling all around them.”
“I can see how that would be intimidating,” Rayne said as he approached the crater.
He figured there was no way he could jump forty feet so he dangled his feet over the edge and dropped down to the crater’s rough rock floor. He walked across it and tossed his rifle up when he reached the edge. He grabbed the edge and pushed himself up onto his arms. Grunting with exertion, he lifted himself over the edge. Standing, he turned toward the other rebels waiting at the edge on the other side.
“I need one of you to go back to the elevator and get the rest of the squad,” Rayne shouted across the crater.
“You got it, Lorick?” Brennon asked the young black woman.
“No problem,” Thompson replied, turning and running back down the corridor toward the elevator.
Brennon lowered herself into the crater and walked across. The remaining soldier, a tall, brown-haired man in his early twenties whose name Rayne had forgotten, followed her. Rayne helped them up when they reached the other side.
“I figure we’ll do some recon in case there are more squads waiting for us ahead,” Rayne said. “The good thing is this squad had no time to radio for reinforcements before they were vaporized.”
********
Campion steered toward the closest red blip on her radar screen and felt as if she was on top of the enemy craft when it suddenly disappeared from her screen. She saw a bright explosion in the sky ahead as another rebel chopper beat her to the punch.
No problem, there’s still plenty of targets left.
Jane climbed toward another target high above her. She came up under it and caught the enemy craft visually. Her eyes squinted as it suddenly exploded into flaming wreckage. Jane steered away from the exploding airship into the clear sky. Looking down at her radar screen, she suddenly realized there were no more red blips. She switched her headset to the main channel.
“L-1 to all Battle Groups. All enemy fighters have been destroyed. I repeat, all enemy fighters destroyed,” Jane communicated to her surviving fighters. “Attention Battle Groups Bravo, Charlie, and Delta. Resume attacks on primary targets. Battle Group Alpha, converge on my signal and assume attack formation. We’re resuming course for our secondary target.”
“Enemy destroyed. Resuming course for secondary target,” Sergeant Jacques repeated.
“I’m switching to channel two to talk to B-Squad,” Campion said.
“Received,” Sergeant Jacques replied.
Jane watched her fighter squadron assemble around her and counted the number of green blips on the radar screen, ten total. Her group had suffered the loss of four more fighters in the air battle for a total loss of nine fighters.
Those soldiers will be remembered as heroes. When this is all over, we’ll build a memorial in the city.
“L-1 to Bravo Squad. Come in, Sergeant Pearlman,” Campion spoke on channel three.
“L-1, this is Corporal Bosworth,” an unfamiliar voice answered her. “Sergeant Pearlman didn’t make it.”
The blow hit her like a sledgehammer. She had known Pearlman for close to eight years. He had been one of the original members of the freedom organization.
He was a brave fighter and a good friend.
Jane tried to concentrate on the task at hand so she wouldn’t break down.
“All right…..corporal. Message received,” she said, trying to focus on what she had to do next. “How many fighters do you have left?”
“Sir, Bravo Squad has four remaining fighters, including myself.”
Jane closed her eyes, gritting her teeth.
Only four fighters! Sixteen fighters from Bravo Squad have been destroyed!
“Corporal, I want you to abort your air attack and land your fighters near the Statistics Bureau. The location should be programmed into your navigation computer. Get in contact with B-Squad’s remaining Sergeant on the ground, Peter Rayne, and back up his troops. Understood?”
“Received, L-1. We’re setting course for the Statistics Bureau,” Bosworth replied.
“Very good. Switching channels,” Jane said.
Campion returned to channel one. She didn’t have time to check with the other two squads because she was closing fast on her secondary target. She could see a number of fires breaking out in the cityscape ahead. As they moved closer, she could see the White House on fire. Delta Squad had targeted the security station located in the left wing of the White House during their initial attack.
“Battle Group, switch to guns. We want to minimize destruction,” Campion ordered, diving toward the fire.
She reduced her speed, dropping toward the White House lawn. Looking around, she saw her squad dropping with her. She hovered her chopper fifty feet above the ground, moving cautiously toward the flames at the left edge of the White House.
“Battle Group, prepare to launch fire-suppression agent,” Jane instructed.
“Received, L-1. Preparing for fire-suppression,” Sergeant Jacques repeated.
Campion pressed upward on the anti-grav shift, steering her fighter so she was hovering directly above the White House fire. Glancing left and right, she watched her squad assemble around her.
“Drop fire-suppression canisters,” Campion said, flipping a lever on her control panel. “Battle Group, when all canisters are released, follow my course.”
“Received L-1. Canisters dropped. Preparing to follow your course,” Sergeant Jacques repeated.
After dropping her cannister, Campion pushed forward on the thrust, circling around toward the undamaged side of the White House. Looking right, she saw a massive cloud of black smoke rising from the other side. A few small stray fires burned here and there, but most of the conflagration had turned to smoke.
“S-1, I need you to take three choppers with you and circle in the air above the target,” Jane said to her sergeant. “Keep your eye out for any enemy activity. You’re going to provide cover while the rest of us set down near the south entrance. Understood?”
“Received, L-1.” Sergeant Jacques replied. “Broderick, Gilmore, Whitman. Follow my course.”
“Monitor the main channel and provide back-up for the other squads, if they need it.” Jane added.
Campion landed her fighter on the lawn and the rest of her group followed her lead. She counted six other choppers landing with her and calculated the number of soldiers in the troop compartments. She smiled when she realized she had 140 men to storm the White House with her. Campion switched to her fighters’ direct channel and spoke.
“Disembark,” she ordered.
********
Rayne halted when he heard the sound of footsteps ahead. Brennon and the other soldier halted beside him, training their weapons forward. The hallway traveled ahead ten feet and made a sharp turn to the left, blocking any further view. The sounds were coming from around the corner. As the source of the noise moved closer, it grew louder. Rayne recognized the sound of heavy boots striking the floor.
Shock Trooper boots.
“We’re about to have company,” he said to Brennon.
“I noticed,” she replied, impatiently, as if he had just stated the obvious.
“It must be a normal patrol, they’re moving slowly,” Peter observed.
“They’re probably going to relieve someone at the post we just wiped out,” Karyn said.
“We have a slight problem. We can’t shoot them because there’s a security room down the hall. They’ll hear the sound of gunfire.”
“These patrols travel in pairs. I should be able to take them both out with a single blow. Stand back,” Brennon said, pushing pa
st him.
She approached the corner, changing her grip on her rifle so she was holding the barrel rather than the stock. She gripped the barrel tightly with both hands like a baseball player holding a bat and brought the stock back over her shoulder as if she was preparing to hit a home run.
“I need you to get ready,” Brennon whispered to Rayne. “If I don’t take them out in the first swing, I may need your help.”
“Okay,” Peter said, copying her stance.
Rayne glanced over his shoulder and saw the rest of the squad approaching with their weapons raised. Looking at them, he raised his right index finger to his lips. The squad slowed their pace and moved cautiously, being careful not to clank their armor or weapons.
“They’re right on top of us. Any second now,” Brennon whispered, tensing her muscles. The sound of marching boots was extremely close.
Brennon swung her improvised bat at the first glimpse of gleaming blue armor. Rayne heard a loud crack as her rifle stock collided with a Shock Trooper’s faceplate. There was a resounding metallic clanking noise as the Trooper hit the floor.
The second Trooper, standing directly behind the first, was knocked back into the wall. Rayne sidestepped Brennon and came around the corner swinging. As the Trooper lifted his rifle to shoot, Peter cracked him across the side of the helmet with his stock. The helmet collided with the wall and the Trooper dropped.
Glancing left, Peter saw Karyn turn the corner, lower her rifle and draw her combat knife. She leaned over the first Trooper and plunged the knife into the vulnerable space between his helmet and chest plate. Blood gurgled out from the Trooper’s neck like a tiny red oil strike. Brennon moved on to the next fallen Trooper and repeated the violent act.
“Remind me not to piss you off,” Rayne said, watching her execute her deadly moves with surgical precision.
“Just doing what I was trained for, Sarge,” Brennon said, grinning at him over her shoulder.
“Yeah, right.”
“You said something about a security room ahead?”
“About fifty feet down the corridor there’s a security room behind clear glass walls. The walls are probably bulletproof, so I don’t think we can shoot our way through,” Peter advised.
“We’ll just have to repeat our first successful attack,” Karyn said, casually, pulling a laser grenade from her belt. “We’ll have to get a bit closer. Tell the rest of the squad to hang back.”
“You got it,” Rayne said, ducking back around the corner and gesturing to the group to wait.
Brennon annihilated the security room with two well-placed grenades and they were free to move on. The strike zone of the two grenades overlapped, blending the blasts together to form a single massive crater. They walked along the bottom of the barren crater for about sixty feet until they reached the end. This crater was slightly deeper than the last, so Rayne needed a “ten fingers” lift from Brennon to reach floor level.
Then, he reached down and pulled her up. They did the same for the rest of the group. Peter looked right and saw the hallway ended at the entrance to the main personnel tunnel dividing the underground complex.
Rayne motioned for the rest of the group to hang back while he peered around the corner. He observed a pair of white-coated technicians walk by the opening to the personnel tunnel. A moment later, he saw a man wearing a suit pass by. Rayne turned to Brennon.
“We’re approaching a heavily-traveled corridor,” he said.
“How many people are in the Underworld?” Karyn asked.
“I’m not sure. At least a couple hundred. Maybe more,” Peter replied.
“How many security personnel?”
“I couldn’t tell ya.”
“I thought you’ve been down here before,” Brennon said.
“I have. I was too busy at the time to keep count,” Rayne replied, frowning.
“I’d ask our squad’s scanner technician to check the place, but he was one of our guys gunned down in the lobby by that guard,” Brennon said, sounding frustrated. “Now, we don’t know the exact locations of our enemies. This is going to hurt us in battle.”
“Don’t you have a backup technician?” Rayne asked.
“Sure, but he was riding in a different chopper. What’s our primary target?” Brennon asked.
“The President and any other top government officials we can find. We’re supposed to take them alive, if we can.”
“Oh, only them,” Karyn said, smirking. “What about the people walking around?”
“I don’t think any of the technicians are armed,” Peter said, feeling uneasy at the thought of gunning down unarmed personnel.
“I recommend shooting anything that moves: technicians and security personnel alike,” Brennon advised. “We can’t take the chance of anyone being armed.”
Rayne felt sweat forming on his forehead.
I don’t like this part of the mission at all. I don’t want to participate in a massacre of unarmed people.
“Look, let’s give them a chance to surrender first,” Peter said.
“Including security?” Karyn asked, raising her left eyebrow.
“No, we’ll shoot anyone in blue armor, but when it comes to technicians, we’ll give them a chance to surrender,” Rayne stated decisively.
“What are we going to do with them once they surrender?” Brennon asked.
“We’ll frisk them to make sure they’re not armed and force them to lie down on the floor. If they move, then we’ll shoot them,” Rayne said.
“You’re the boss,” Brennon muttered, sarcastically.
Rayne frowned at her.
Turning away from him, Brennon addressed the rest of the group, “If you see any security personnel, shoot-to-kill,” she instructed, severely. “But, we have to give the technicians an opportunity to surrender first,” she added, rolling her eyes. “But if they make any sudden moves or give us any trouble, shoot them. Got it?”
“No problem,” Thompson answered for the group.
“Let’s go,” Brennon said, turning the corner and advancing toward the main hallway.
Rayne walked with her. When they reached the opening to the main personnel corridor, Brennon stopped and turned to him.
“We have to send people both ways. That way, no one can outflank us.”
Brennon turned to the rest of the squad following behind them in combat pairs. She recited names of people who would follow her and Rayne down the right-hand corridor. She recited another list of people who would travel in the other direction.
“You ready?” she asked Rayne, raising her sleek left eyebrow.
“Yeah. You?” Peter asked.
“Let’s do it,” she said, stepping into the main corridor.
Chapter 38
Close Combat
Campion and her squad approached a black steel door in the south wall of the White House. She pulled a laser grenade from her belt and told the rest of the group to get back. When the other soldiers had retreated to a safe distance, Jane tossed the grenade at the door. She ran back a few steps and covered her eyes with her free hand. She waited a few seconds, uncovered her eyes, and gazed at the destruction. A large section of the wall surrounding the steel door was gone. There was no sign of the door itself. It had been vaporized.
“Let’s go,” Jane said, taking the lead.
She moved towards the gaping hole in the wall with her rifle barrel scanning ahead. Leaping down into the crater, she walked under the improvised archway formed by the grenade. The crater traveled into the White House for about twenty feet and ended at normal-level flooring.
Campion waited for the other soldiers to catch up. She gave Corporal Rodriguez a “ten fingers” lift to normal floor level. Reaching down, Rodriguez helped her up.
Jane checked the hallway ahead; the White House corridor was empty and silent. Apparently, the occupants in this area had all fled – probably when the opposite end of the building was bombed.
I guess they were afraid they were ne
xt. They obviously didn’t realize that our forces were only targeting the security station. Even better for us. We’ll be able to reach our destination unhindered.
Lt. Campion and Corporal Rodriguez continued down the hall, checking the rooms as they went. Looking back, she saw the rest of the squad following. They reached an intersecting corridor.
“Spread out,” Campion called back over her shoulder.
She continued forward with her colleague while other squad members went to the left and right. Several of them continued straight with them. Jane heard the muffled sound of automatic weapons fire nearby.
“Who’s firing?” she asked, switching on her headset.
“I am, sir,” an unknown voice replied on channel one. “We found some guards hiding out in a security room. The area is secure now.”
“Thank you, soldier. Keep me appraised.”
“Will do, sir.”
“We’re heading for the elevator room at the center of the building,” Campion said to the soldiers following her down the hall.
They continued forward, checking rooms as they went. All the rooms were silent and empty; it was eerie.
I expected to encounter some resistance. The place is completely deserted. They must have all evacuated the building or escaped to the Underworld.
Jane led her squad toward the center of the building where her spies told her the elevator to the Underworld was located. They took a left down another corridor, walked several hundred feet, and reached a plain steel door.
“This should be it. I only need forty soldiers to accompany me to the Underworld,” Campion said, turning to Rodriguez. “I will only take two squads. I need you to take the rest of the squads and search the eastern sector for any high-level prisoners. Be sure to keep me appraised.”
“No problem,” Rodriguez said, moving out.
Jane turned to the steel door.
“I’m not sure if we want to use a laser grenade on this door,” Jane ruminated aloud. “It might damage the elevators. Do any of you have light explosives?” she asked her tech, Beth Connor.