Hell Fighters From Earth Book 2

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Hell Fighters From Earth Book 2 Page 8

by William C. Seigler


  “Sir? I’ve heard that we have the war well in hand.”

  “Who has told you this?” asked Fitz.

  “Everybody knows it. The navy recently cleaned out some Reptilian infested planet without their help.” He motioned with his glance in the direction Denver had taken.

  “Further, I understand that we don’t need them anymore, as if we ever did.”

  “Skipper, do you know where we are going?”

  “I was just instructed to report to you; the details are loaded into the computer.”

  Fitz shook his head. “We are going to investigate that world supposedly liberated by our navy to see if the Reptilians are completely wiped out.”

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, we are going to check out what has really happened by direct order from the Admiralty. Do you want a career in the navy?”

  “Oh, yes sir.”

  “Then don’t screw this mission up. Everything we do here will be reported directly to Parliament. Therefore, in spite of your stupid prejudices, you might want to do everything in your power to make this mission a success.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Then I respectfully submit that you begin by not antagonizing our fellow human allies. Is that clear?”

  “Yes sir, it’s just that …” his voice trailed off.

  “I know, our whole lives we have been taught to look down our noses at the rest of humanity. Perhaps it’s time to rethink that indoctrination.”

  A bit more quiescently, he replied, “Yes sir. Will there be anything else sir?”

  “No, just keep the rest of the crew from smarting off at these people. They are good people if you just give them a chance.”

  “Of course sir. I do have one question.”

  “Yes, what is it?”

  “That planet is out on the frontier. What did they hope to accomplish by taking it?”

  “I don’t know. My guess is that somebody wants to prove that we can win the war on our own.”

  “Yes sir. If you don’t mind, I have another question,” the ship’s captain asked.

  “Go ahead.”

  “Is that Legion officer the one who blew up the Reptilian nest and destroyed their eggs?”

  “Yes, yes it is. Why do you ask?”

  “Everybody’s talking about it. It was a hell of a thing.”

  “Yes, it was. Will there be anything else?”

  “No sir, I’ll get the ship ready.” He came to attention, saluted, and left.

  After he had left, Fitz said aloud to no one but himself, “If we can survive the alliance, we might be able to survive the war.” He went to find Smith.

  Dmitri’s men had attached machine guns to the beach buggies on arched racks. The buggies had been repainted to the color of the desert they were going to be operating in. The guns were locked down so that they would not swing up and impact the top of the cramped cargo area in the tiny ship when they exited.

  Fast and maneuverable, they were nothing like the navy or the Legion had ever used before. They would land, the buggies would launch, and the ship would take up its post in orbit, recording as much data as possible. In case of real trouble, they could extract the ground team.

  A shiver went up Fitz’s spine as he wondered if they would really pick them up, or was this just some sort of trick, to put an end to their investigation into the assassination of the Prime Minister. There was not much he could do about it now. Just stay alive, and keep his people alive.

  He thought of Mei Ling, her long slender body, thick black hair, her aroma, her high cheekbones, and dark eyes. If he could just survive this, they would be husband and wife. She would make a wonderful mother. He only hoped that he would make a good father.

  As he strode into the cargo area, he pushed these thoughts from his mind. He had a job to do.

  Smith was looking over his dune buggy, making sure the seat was adjusted for him. His rifle was in its rack, and the ammo had been properly stored away. He looked up as Fitz entered.

  “Hi boss, here we go again.”

  “Yeah,” answered Fitz. Then he added, “Do you mean the mission or the navy’s attitude problem.”

  “Both I guess. I will keep our people out of their way as much as possible.”

  “Everything ready to go?”

  “Yes, I just need to load the oxygen rebreathers and the emergency bottles.”

  At that moment, Argie and Farouk entered the cargo bay carrying the last of the gear. Smith stood and smiled. “That the last of it?”

  “Yes, I hope there is room for us once we have everything loaded,” said Farouk.

  “I just hope we can remember where we put things when we need them,” added Argie.

  Smith turned to Fitz. I hope we haven’t loaded these things down too much.”

  “We will learn really quick what we need and what we can do without,” replied Fitz.

  “Creating tactics as we go along, our specialty,” added Smith with a grin.

  “Before we finish up, there is something we need to talk about,” Fitz said.

  Argie and Farouk set their burdens down on the deck. “We’ve already run into attitude problems with the ship’s personnel. I don’t want this to become some sort of distraction. The ship’s captain and I have already had a discussion, and I hope we’ve heard the end of it. However, don’t count on it.”

  “This is getting old sir,” noted Argie.

  “Ditto,” added Farouk.

  “Tell me about it,” replied Fitz. He had grown up with other people’s attitude problems. “But to the mission, let’s get this equipment secured then see if we really fit.”

  * * * *

  The jump ship returned to real space, and the tiny navy spacecraft lifted up and expertly slid out of the giant cargo bay. The captain wasted no time in coming up to speed and streaked toward the objective planet.

  Fitz and his team had buckled on their recon vehicles. They were ready. The captain brought the ship down low and swept across the ground many kilometers before setting the spacecraft down about three kilometers from the first objective.

  They felt the pressure change in their ears as the crew chief adjusted the cargo bay’s pressure to equal that outside the spacecraft. The pressure was somewhat lower and high in carbon dioxide, probably from vegetable matter that had rotted centuries ago as the planet encountered some sort of natural environmental disaster.

  That is why the legionnaires wore oxygen masks. Suits were not necessary, as pressure was not too low; it just was not good to breathe. The masks had radio link microphones inside them, and their helmets were equipped with headphones.

  The door opened, the ramp dropped down, and they were out. As soon as they were clear, Fitz called for a com check.

  “Captain, how do you read?”

  “We have you sir, loud and clear,” Hapsburg said as the ramp folded up and the cargo bay door closed. The ship lifted up and streaked off, back into space.

  “Okay, Smith let’s go,” and off they went with Farouk standing behind Fitz and Argie manning the gun behind Denver.

  At first, Denver trailed Fitz, but soon decided there would be less dust to eat if he ran off to one side. He hit a bump throwing Argie against her restraints.

  “I think you missed a bump back there,” she said over the intercom.

  “Next time I’m taking Farouk; you complain too much.”

  “I don’t think he’s willing to put up with you,” she replied.

  Fitz cut right and began running up a hill. “Smith, go around the side, but keep to cover.”

  “Yes sir,” Denver replied. Then to Argie, “What do you mean, he won’t put up with me. I’m easier to get along with than you are.”

  “Want to bet?”

  “Smith, I’m stopping just below the crest. I’ll dismount and
have a look around,” said Fitz.

  “Yes sir. Argie can you see the other buggy?”

  She turned. “No.”

  “Hold up Smith, right where you are,” instructed Fitz.

  Denver brought the dune buggy to a halt.

  Fitz scanned the area below. Nothing remained standing. “Lieutenant Jones, keep a sharp lookout all around.”

  “Yes sir.” Farouk was just below the crest, and he could still see Fitz. He turned around and looked behind them; nothing moved as far as the eye could see. It looked like a dead world.

  Fitz radioed Denver, “I don’t see anything. We can go down and have a look around.”

  “Sir, let Argie and me look this one over while you guys cover us.”

  “Okay, good idea. We’ll get the next one, that will keep our exposure time to a minimum,” he assured Denver.

  He motioned for Farouk to bring the dune buggy up to the crest where they could keep the other team covered with their gun. Farouk pulled alongside him, then returned to the gunner’s position.

  Denver approached the target area quickly, but not recklessly. He was glad he wore the suit and breathing apparatus which would keep any radioactive dust off him.

  Argie stood behind him with both hands hanging on to the fifty-caliber machine gun she had at her disposal. They both could see the radiation meter. It wasn’t too bad yet, but she had no desire to hang around.

  The place was dead, no sign of anyone walking around on the surface. Smith set the ground penetrating radar up and quickly saw that there was nothing under the surface but rock.

  “Sir, this one’s clean,” he radioed.

  “Okay get clear, we’ll join you before heading off to the next target.”

  Soon, they were wheeling across the desert to the next objective, which was about sixty kilometers away. Fitz radioed the orbiting ship.

  “We’ve left the first target. It appears to be clean, and radiation levels are no worse than expected.”

  “Yes sir, and sir, there’s something else. From time to time, I get what seems to be a part of a message, but it is pretty garbled. I can’t make anything out.”

  “Understood, keep a check on all the frequencies you can, and report back to me if you hear any more.” Fitz thought about this. Was it possible that the Reptilians had not been completely wiped out, and some were lying low, listening to them?

  He radioed the ship. “Have you noticed any other activity?”

  “Negative, sir.”

  “We should be at the next target in less than one hour. When will you be above our horizon?”

  “Stand by a moment, sir.” After a few seconds, the captain came back, “We should be able to spot anything in your area in about fifty minutes, but we will be low on the horizon. I can’t promise we won’t miss something.”

  “Okay, let me know if you spot anything.”

  About that time, he joined Denver and Argie. He pulled alongside. “Go to low power on your transmissions. The ship has heard something on the radio, but is not sure what it was.”

  “Right,” replied Smith.

  Chapter 10 - A Target Rich Environment

  “All I’m saying Cap is that if the Reptilians show up, we should get out fast, and leave the monkeys on the ground,” offered Hapsburg’s FO, Lieutenant JG McMillian.

  “I agree with you, but how do we explain it back at the base? We just run out on the ground team at the first sign of trouble. That should really impress any future promotion board.”

  McMillian shook his head. “Well, I don’t know what we’ve come to if we have to depend on a bunch of monkeys to save us.”

  “I’ve already had a visit with Commander Fitzpatrick because of them. Just don’t do anything to make this mission any worse than it already is.”

  At that moment an alarm sounded.

  “Uh oh,” said Hapsburg. “Where’s it coming from?”

  “The surface and it’s rising fast, two, three, I see ten missiles coming up from the surface.”

  “That does it, let’s get out of here,” called Hapsburg.

  “Where we headed, back to the jump ship?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m taking us out to geo-synch to a point over the ground mission. You get on the radio and let them know that the planet is not as dead as we had been led to believe.”

  “Yes sir.”

  * * * *

  Argie was enjoying the ride, bouncing along with the wind whipping at her. Maybe when we get back, we should rent one of these for a few days on an extended camping trip down the coast, she thought to herself.

  “Ground Pounder this is Mother Goose.” This was a new voice, and a bit more military.

  “Go ahead Mother Goose,” replied Fitz.

  “Sir, we’re being shot at. We have missiles coming up from the surface. The Captain is taking us out to geosynchronous orbit where we should be able to keep an eye on you.”

  Fitz failed to dodge a bump, and the tiny dune buggy was knocked around even more violently. Farouk was thrown against the restraints.

  “Ground Pounder, are you there.”

  “Yes, we’re here and understand you are being fired upon.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Continue as planned. Contact me when you are in position.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Great, now they won’t be able to get as close a look at the planet, but at least we know the navy didn’t knock everything out. Then he thought of something else.

  “Mother Goose, are you in contact with the jump ship?”

  The same voice came back. “Negative.”

  Great! “Send a Contact Report to the jump ship. Advise them of your situation, and let them know we are on our way to the second objective.”

  “Yes sir.”

  It’s like this everywhere; protocol is breaking down. Make a note to put that in your report.

  Fitz detoured around a gully and up a small ridge. There was a dark smear slightly above the horizon. He stopped and took out his binoculars. At that moment, Smith pulled up next to him.

  It took a moment for it to register. That black smear was aircraft of some sort, a huge number of them.

  “Mother Goose this is Ground Pounder. Get us out of here.”

  Hapsburg’s voice came on the radio. “Sir, we are on station, and there appears to be something happening about five kilometers east of you in your direction of travel.”

  “Yes, I see them. There is a large number of the enemy flying craft heading in our direction. We are turning around; get us out of here, now!”

  “Yes sir, we’re on our way.”

  “Come on Smith, let’s get out of here,” called Fitz as he brought his dune buggy around.

  Smith complied. “Okay, Smith that dark streak on the horizon is a huge number of flying craft coming our way. Let your gunner know to be ready for action.”

  “Roger, Wilco.” He then called Argie on the com.

  “Argie, you remember our last escape?”

  “How could I forget it?”

  “Well get ready, this one might even be better.”

  “Something’s chasing us?” she asked.

  “Yep, ‘something wicked this way comes’.”

  “We didn’t really think about that. I’m set up for shooting to the front and sides.”

  “Hang on!”

  Denver jammed the accelerator.

  As Argie was knocked around, she had an idea. If she could just get the gun out of its slot and rotate it one hundred and eighty degrees. It would be easy if she were not being bounced so much.

  She got the gun loose just as he hit a bump. The machine gun hit Denver on the head.

  “Hey, what are you doing?”

  “Sorry,” was all she said. She tried to lift the gun. “I’m trying to turn
it around.”

  “What?” He came to a stop. He jumped up on his seat and together they got the gun back in place and pointed in the direction of the threat.

  “Smith, why are you stopped,” demanded Fitz.

  “We’re turning the gun around to shoot behind us.”

  “Good idea.” Fitz brought his dune buggy to a sliding halt.

  “Sir, if we move my gun around and the enemy gets in front of us, we won’t be able to fight,” reasoned Farouk.

  “You’re right.” Fitz floored it. “Smith, get behind me. Farouk will shoot to the front and ninety degrees to either side. You will shoot to the rear and sides, understand?”

  “Yes sir.” I understand we’re about to get our asses shot off.

  “Mother Goose, how long before the incoming are on us?”

  “You’re out of time sir.”

  “Here they come!” cried Argie. She opened fire. At first her shots did not seem to do much damage, but suddenly an aircraft nosed over right at the ground. It hit and exploded. The rest laid back.

  “I got one, I got one!” she cried, as she brought her gun around.

  As the aircraft swept past, Farouk opened up. He was glad for the tracers. Next time I’ll have them load all tracers. Next time? Now that’s optimism.

  Farouk had multiple hits on one aircraft it maneuvered right to avoid his firing and ran smack into another aircraft. They both went down.

  “Two for her majesty,” called Farouk.

  The aircraft were big and swept all around them, but never fired. Fitz looked over his shoulder as one appeared to be about to set down on him.

  “Where the devil are you, Jones?”

  “I’m killing these guys.”

  Fitz looked to his left. Another aircraft swept past smoking. “Look right,” commanded Fitz.

  “I am.”

  “Blast, starboard!”

  Farouk looked over his other shoulder. There, not ten meters away was a Reptilian aircraft, but it was not an attack aircraft. It was a troop carrier.

  The harness restricted his movement, but he swung around in time to see a side hatch open up. It was full of troops. He opened up raking the aircraft fore and aft. It began to smoke and fire shot out the open hatch.

 

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