Veech looked away in deep thought. “Yeah, that makes more sense. Do you know what they were talking about?”
She jerked her head toward Stanner. “You watched them for hours. Who came out of that big truck? Mostly men or women?”
Stanner’s eyes grew large with realization. “Women. Almost all of them women and not nearly enough to operate an air wing.”
“What is it?” Veech shifted his stare between them.
“Their BattleMasters.” Stephanie felt dizzy. “And they’re planning a trap.”
Chapter Thirteen
Olsen nibbled on his last nail with anything left within reach of his teeth. He’d have to find another way to channel his nervous energy soon, or he’d start whittling his fingers down.
Stanner had been missing for three days now. Three days without his best friend to keep him grounded. His runaway imagination was now free to invent new ways of torturing himself.
Everyone assumed Stanner was dead, but not Olsen. He wasn’t ready to start down that road of grim acceptance. He needed Stanner to be alive out there, because he, Olsen, needed him. Olsen knew he was a wreck and Stanner was the crutch who took enough of the weight of the world off his shoulders for him to breathe.
It had been that way since they were little kids. For reasons he wasn’t sure of himself, Stanner had befriended him, sticking up for him when bullies gave him a hard time and had made sure he was included in group activities.
Now Olsen was alone and the universe pressed down upon him.
To make matters worse, rumor had it they were getting ready to renew the offensive. The thought of going into battle without Stanner seemed impossible, but he was determined to do just that.
He’s out there somewhere, and the only way to find him is to fight our way to him.
Determination to find his friend solidified Olsen’s resolve. He stopped biting his nails, wrapping his fingers around his rifle. It was time for him to stand up for Stanner and he’d find his friend alive, return his body to his family or die trying.
***
General Mendez had finally issued the attack order.
Reba closed her eyes and advanced her minions. About damn time. Mendez is an idiot. We should’ve counterattacked immediately. I can’t believe they put a man in charge. How stupid. No ape can handle the kind of data necessary to lead an army.
Her mini-tanks rolled ahead as part of a larger group conducting flanking maneuvers. A ragged line of fifty-caliber guns spat thousands of rounds at the thin Euro line. A volley of rockets launched, hammering the few Goliaths opposing them. The spider column surged forward amid a chorus of thwmoops from the mortars and a light show of lasers.
Euro troopers ran before the wave of steel that washed over their dead.
The tanks completed their arc and poured fire into the shattered line.
Open terrain laid ahead.
A methodical laugh boomed from Reba’s mouth. She shook her fist at the fleeing foe. “Run, you cowards! Next time fight harder. That was too easy!”
***
A breeze rustled the grass and bushes around the three stalkers. That was good, as the movement made Stanner, Veech, and Stephanie’s detection more unlikely.
They’d used the stream to hide their tracks, changing their point of entry to watch the enemy camp from another angle. The Euros were on high alert, but the area was too large for them to cover. Infiltration wasn’t an option; security was too tight for that. Observation was the most they could do for now.
Stanner had kept watch while the others grabbed some sleep. Hours passed with no change in activity. Then the camp’s personnel ran around like a poked beehive and the compartments of the three land-trains opened up like a field of blossoming flowers.
Stanner shook his compatriots. “Something’s happening.”
They awoke with instant clarity of thought. Adrenaline wiped away any chance of groggy morning minds.
Veech scanned from side to side. “They’re getting ready to spring the trap. We must be attacking again.”
“Wow.” Stephanie’s jaw dropped. “Would you look at that?”
The items in the compartments were visible and came to life. Mini-tanks, very similar to American Army models, rolled off the flatbeds. Something they’d never seen before unfolded, growing larger like a metallic tree emerging from the ground in a time-lapse video. They took the form of small versions of the Goliaths. At three times the size of a man, they were still frightful to look at. Aerial drones lifted off vertically.
Stephanie cleared her throat. “We need to radio this in, even if we give away our position in the process.”
“I think you’re right.” Veech typed on his wrist computer. “Um, we have a problem.”
Stanner regarded him. “That’s an understatement.”
Stephanie closed her eyes, focusing on information in her mind’s eye. “They’re jamming all channels. There’s no way our low-powered transmitters are going to get through. I’m not certain we’d reach anyone even if the frequency was clear, but with the jamming, we can’t at all.”
“Can we work our way out of the jamming range?” Stanner shifted to his side.
Stephanie bobbed her head. “In theory, but we’d have to run further away from our forces to get out. The jamming’s line-of-sight. Not only will it take time, but the increased distance isn’t good.”
“I don’t think we have that long.” Veech sighed. “This trap will have likely played out by the time we get a message to HQ.”
“We have to do something.” Stephanie glanced at them. “We can’t just let our guys walk into an ambush. Euro BattleMasters will take us by surprise.”
Veech turned his palms up. “I’m open to any ideas you two have.”
Stanner gazed off into nothingness, a thousand thoughts swirling around. BattleMasters, modern warfare, weakness, electronics, control signal, hacking. “Hack.”
Stephanie regarded him. “What did you say?”
“Is there any way you can pirate their control signal?” Stanner inched closer to her. “Their tech has to be similar to ours. Your implants have to be at least somewhat compatible with their drones. Even if you can’t take control of their drones, maybe you can mess up their plans.”
She shook her head. “It’s not like turning the dial on a radio. The connection between a BattleMaster and each drone is highly encrypted and localized, not networked across a wider system. Even if you managed to hack a link, you’re only hacking one small group of machines, and even that’s a big if to begin with.”
“What if we found a backdoor?” Stanner pointed at the camp. “There have to be computers and interface terminals in there. If we got you to one of them, do you think you can do some damage?”
“Well...” Her eyes drifted off. “Maybe, but everything will be in German. I won’t be able to read anything.”
“I can read it for you.” Veech perked up.
Stephanie pressed her lips together. “It’s still a long shot. Their computers will be firewalled even if we can get to an interface. They know someone is out here and sneaking in won’t exactly be easy. Hell, sneaking out almost got the both of you killed.”
Stanner frowned. “Yeah, you have a point there.”
“No.” Veech pounded a fist into the ground, sending a muffled thud into the air. “We can’t just watch while our men charge into a trap. If this attack fails, we’ve likely lost the war and then everything will have been for nothing. I refuse to accept that.”
Stephanie nodded. “I don’t like it either, but you’re right. We have to try. So what do you propose?”
“We wait.” Veech’s hot gaze burned into them. “There’s nothing we can do to prevent the Euros from springing the trap, so we wait until they’re fully committed, and then we see if we can sneak in. If they’re anything like us, combat troops will be a precious commodity and they won’t want to waste too many guarding a rear post from a few stragglers who are most likely no longer anywhere near her
e. We pick our moment, infiltrate their camp and see what we can do.”
“That’s a bold plan, sergeant.” Stephanie looked at Stanner. “What do you think?”
“Me?”
She shrugged. “It’s a crazy plan and more likely to get us killed than anything else. I’d rather you agreed, not order you to give it a try.”
“Oh.” Stanner stared at the branches swaying in the breeze. I could really die on this one. I wonder how mom and dad will take it? News travels fast; they might already think I’m dead, or at least missing. What about Olsen? He got away and is one of the dipshits walking into a trap. We have to try, for him and the others, even if we all die here and no one ever knows we died trying to save them. He looked up and nodded. “I’m in, lieutenant. If nothing else, we can go down swinging, causing them as much trouble as we can.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Stephanie regarded Veech. “Okay, sarge. This is your specialty. What do we need to do to get ready for this little mission of ours?”
A sly grin crossed his grim coated face. “We need to keep working our way along the perimeter, searching for a gap in their security. The closer we get to their front-facing line, the thinner it should be. Take it slow, because we’ll only get one shot at this.”
“When do you think the fighting will start?” Stanner rearranged the gear on his body to move out.
“It’s already started, corporal.” Veech exhaled. “What we’re waiting for is the shit to hit the fan, and that will happen too soon. Let’s move out. We’ve got a lot of people counting on us, even if they don’t know it.”
Chapter Fourteen
A deafening bang exploded next to Olsen. It was like someone hit the mute button on him and switched to slow motion. Dirt flew up in the air, pelting his uniform as he was lifted off his feet. Something warm bit his leg. At first it was a pinch, but it quickly grew into agony.
Olsen flopped onto the ground. The world around him was chaos, a mess of blood, fire, and metal. He screamed so hard his throat hurt, but all he heard was the constant ringing that pierced his brain.
His platoon was falling back; he could feel the shift in momentum. Their attack had been halted and now something drove them back. What had happened, exactly, was an unknown. All he knew was that he had to get out of there.
A pair of strong hands lifted him onto his feet and held him up as he ran through the pain the best he could. They were making good time when his helper’s body shuddered and paused. Entangled, he fell alongside the limp soldier.
Olsen was screwed, that much he knew, but he didn’t give up. He didn’t know where Stanner was or if he was even alive, but he could hear Stanner’s voice telling him to keep going, to fight through the pain. That’s the kind of friend Stanner was. He never let Olsen just quit. He pushed Olsen to step outside his comfort zone.
Arm over arm, Olsen fought to escape the onslaught but in vain. He was alone, left behind. The last thing he remembered was wishing Stanner had been there to make sure he got out. He wouldn’t’ve forgotten me.
***
Reba was a woman who refused to be afraid. Fear was weakness, and she’d never be weak again. The weak were victims like her mother.
When the first miniature Goliath appeared on the battlefield, she chuckled. It was almost cute, and at a fraction of the original size, it failed to trigger the same respect she’d developed for its bigger sisters.
Then another showed up and another and another. The iron soldiers charged straight at her while small, familiar-looking tracked vehicles swung out from behind them. Neither their numbers nor their attack did much to affect Reba’s disposition.
It was how they moved that knotted her stomach.
It was a ballet, a choreographed dance of death she’d only seen one place else. It can’t be. There was no mistaking it, though. She was dueling with another BattleMaster.
The revelation didn’t strike fear into her heart but it did unnerve her. Her three remaining spiders and two mini-tanks froze. She lost her focus, rendering the link between woman and machine ineffective.
The enemy forward line raked the staggering American forces with perfectly coordinated fire. Smart-bullets filled the air with puffs of shrapnel, and an unending volley of laser bolts illuminated the landscape in a morbid red glow.
Bombs fell from the sky.
They have air superiority! The same thing’s happening to our aerial drones!
Rockets and fifty-caliber rounds poured in from the flanks. Euro mini-tanks were moving in to catch her in a crossfire.
“Fall back!” rang out across the com-line. “All units fall back!”
No!
A rage boiled within Reba. She was the goddess of the modern battlefield and she wasn’t about to forfeit that title without a fight.
Her eyes narrowed, fists clenched and her mind sharpened to a razor’s edge. Her five bots surged ahead as one, unloading every ounce of munitions they could before being destroyed.
Using the curves in the terrain, she shielded her small force from much of the harm directed toward it. Still her bots fell, one by one, against the impossible odds. Reba made her presence known nonetheless, bringing down the tiny Goliaths one at a time with concentrated precision.
Ammo spent and laser coils melted to slag, her last spider bot charged ahead until a wall of energy and steel shredded it to pieces.
The link blinked out and she was inside her own head. The sound of grinding teeth muffled the shouts surrounding her.
Reba needed to run away, to get more bots and fight another day, but she couldn’t make her legs move. She wanted a rifle. It was irrational and quite the opposite of her usual self, but she wanted a gun so she could make her stand there and then.
Cracking open her jaw to bark an order, it slammed shut as a man wrapped his arms around her and carried her away. She squirmed against his grip, hating the feeling of being under his control. She was powerless against his raw physical strength, which only increased her rage.
“Put me down! That’s an order!”
The man ignored her and tossed her inside an APC as though she were a doll. A roar filled the hull as the engine struggled to put distance between them and the Euro onslaught.
Reba stayed on the floor, bouncing with every bump in the terrain. She balled her fists and beat them against the armor. This isn’t over. I will get my power back. This isn’t over, not by a long shot.
***
Stanner sucked in a breath to steady his nerves. He advanced with slow, deliberate movements. He prayed Stephanie was as careful behind him.
A flurry of activity had infected the enemy camp as the sun fell. Most of their infantry detachments bugged out on APCs and standard trucks with the BattleMasters and their drones. Their departure left the perimeter thin, forcing individual soldiers to cover dozens of yards. It wouldn’t get any easier than this.
They noticed a gap on the guard’s patrols. There was a shallow crease in the ground between two Euro guards which neither bothered to properly check. It was their best option, so they went for it.
It sounded like a better idea at the time.
Stanner’s arm snaked forward but froze stiff when Veech went still, melting into the landscape. His uniform adjusted to shades of black and gray, making him nearly invisible. It also concealed his body heat and muffled any EMF he generated.
A moving blackness caught his eye. There was a soldier strolling toward them from the right. Camp lighting silhouetted his dark frame, casting an elongated shadow.
Thump, thump, thump. Stanner’s heart pounded. It felt so loud he feared it would give away their position.
The guard came closer. Stanner told himself he was yards away and not in the guard’s direct line of sight, but he would have sworn he could feel the Euro’s warm breath on his neck.
The trio remained motionless, silent. Time passed like a glacier. Seconds were minutes and minutes, hours. Tick, tock. How long before they were discovered and killed or capt
ured? Could he kill Stephanie like she’d ordered if she was about to fall into enemy hands? Did it matter anymore, since the enemy now had BattleMaster tech? He said a silent prayer that he’d never have to find out.
The ominous black figure shifted and moved away. The distance grew until Veech thought it safe to continue their daring — or insane — attack.
They were inside the Euro lines, but now each inch increased the risk. They charged for the closest land-train. Success or failure, Stanner didn’t know how they’d survive the night.
Overconfidence has destroyed more armies than brilliant generalship, that was the only thing Stanner’s father told him the day he was shipped out. He never really understood the point until now. The enemy soldiers deeper in the camp were relaxed, unconcerned about what might slip past their skeleton guard.
Boisterous laughter and liquor bottles reflecting flashes of light spoke to the casual attitude of their foe. They were the rear echelon of an army on the march. Defeat and danger were not forefront on their minds.
Sneaking into their perimeter, however, was a totally different story than getting inside one of their land-train sections unseen. The three of them found refuge between stacked supply crates. They crouched and whispered like mice plotting to evade a room of cats.
“We can’t stay here long.” The whites of Stephanie’s eyes glowed as she spoke. “Someone is sure to stumble onto us.”
“I know.” Veech studied their target’s entry point. It was a lowered ramp facing away from the camp’s interior. Sporadic foot traffic made any approach a serious gamble. “We can’t just make a run for it, though. We need time once we’re inside and can’t have them chasing us.”
Stanner wetted his lips. “A diversion?”
“Yeah.” Veech nodded. “Any ideas?”
Stephanie’s eyelids drew back. “I’ve got one.” She unzipped the infantry BDU top she’d taken from their defeat, exposing the skin-tight black body armor underneath.
Stanner shared a look with Veech. “Um, what are you doing?”
BattleMaster (The BattleMaster Corps Book 1) Page 10
