BattleMaster (The BattleMaster Corps Book 1)

by Nathaniel Danes

  He put those big picture questions out of his head. He was a sergeant in a platoon on the move in enemy territory. If his head wasn’t in the here and now, men would die.

  “First squad.” Hart splashed out of the water. His boots sank into the soft soil of the bank. He pointed at a rise in the terrain to the left in the direction of the enemy. “Secure that position. Take a look around.”

  Too many troopers were moving like slugs for Veech. “Move it! We don’t want to get caught here with our pants down.”

  He jumped to his feet and led the group, beating them to the summit. Shallow rolling hills covered in tall grass stretched as far as the eye could see. Men filled the space around him, looking in every direction.

  Olsen jogged to his side. “What’s the plan, sarge?”

  “Ask him.” Veech jerked his head toward Hart.

  “Don’t ask me. This is the captain’s show.” Hart’s eyes went blank and he held a hand over his ear, the one with the com bud. “Okay, here’s the plan. We own the skies. Recon drones paint a clear path for us to sprint to the enemy, but they look to be packing up.”

  “Good, then we don’t have to fight them, “ a green private remarked.

  Veech stared him down. “Grow a pair. We aren’t just gonna let them pull back to another prepared position.”

  “Right you are, sergeant.” Hart tapped his wrist computer. “Sending you the coordinates. We’re heading deeper into their rear to try and cut some of them off. Give ‘em a bloody nose.”

  “You heard the man!” Veech clapped his hands, sending a sharp noise out. “On your feet. This is what all that PT is for.”

  They ran, heading away from the river at an angle. The hills turned into flat plains but the grass stayed to provide a measure of cover. Their lungs sucked in air as fast as they could. The huffing and grunts were as loud as elephants breathing.

  A trooper ahead of him stumbled and fell face first. He lay still on the ground. Veech stopped next to him. “Get up, private. We can’t stay here in the open. You can rest when we get to the tree line.” He picked the limp man up. “Move out.”

  Nearly a hundred rumps hit the dirt as one when they reached the tree cluster, one of many spread throughout this area. Veech was exhausted but refused to sit. He wouldn’t show weakness in front of those young pups.

  He strolled through the scattered soldiers drinking from straws when a faint noise in the direction of the river caught his ear. He paused, focusing on it. It was a rumble and it was growing louder. He would have recognized that sound anywhere. It was the sound of mechanized war.

  He switched his com to the wide channel. “Tanks! Get deeper into the woods and get down! Incoming!”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  An aura of energy and confidence infected Kyle’s command post. Staff and security personnel buzzed from task to task with facial muscles twitching, working to hold neutral expressions.

  The war was about over — that’s what they thought, at least. He wanted to believe it himself, but Samantha’s warning echoed in his ears, congealing his innards into a ball of acid-soaked worry.

  He raised his binoculars and scanned the far side of the river. What do you have waiting for me? When will you show yourself?

  “General,” Captain Luke Lynchburg said behind him, “beachhead secured. We’re moving deeper into enemy territory at a good pace.”

  Kyle pressed his lips together and grunted, not taking his eyes off his men. Infantry hopped off boats and ran up the bank while a detachment of combat engineers finished securing the end of a pontoon bridge.

  Luke stepped alongside him. “If they couldn’t make a stand here, they shouldn’t be able to stop us anywhere.”

  “I’m not so sure, captain. They let us cross the river. It was always their intent to pull back after they bled us, but the loss of their air power in this area moved up their timetable. They couldn’t stop us from outflanking them without air cover, so they moved out to keep us from surrounding and destroying their assets.

  “Those men and vehicles are going to redeploy and make us pay later. I’d rather have fought them here and now, where I knew they were. Now...” He shook his head and exhaled. “They can surprise us again. And now we have the river at our back if we need to pull back.”

  “I see your point, sir. Though...” Luke pressed two fingers against his com earbud. “Sir, one of the infantry companies sent across up river has made visual contact with retreating enemy armor and infantry.”

  Kyle let his binoculars fall and swung his tablet in front of him. “Where?”

  “Grid thirteen, southwest corner. They’ve concealed themselves in a wooded area and don’t believe they’ve been seen.”

  “Can they engage?” Kyle needed to hurt the enemy, weaken whatever trap they had for him.

  “They’re heavily outmatched, sir. They’ll need support. Should I order an airstrike?”

  “Negative. That column will have solid anti-air defenses and we can’t afford to lose more aircraft today.” Kyle’s stomach churned. The metal and plastic warriors were too valuable, more valuable than the flesh and blood soldiers he’d lose because of his unwillingness to sacrifice the lifeless drones. He hated these command decisions the most.

  Kyle studied the tactical situation on his tablet. A ground BattleMaster was crossing the bridge. “Tell them to engage and we’ll send a BattleMaster ahead to support them. Get a detachment of APCs together also. Send them ahead as soon as they’re ready.”

  “Yes, sir.” Luke stepped away to fulfill the orders.

  Kyle selected the lead BattleMaster and opened a channel to her. “Captain Chandler, I have a mission for you.”

  ***

  “What?” Veech whispered to Hart. They lay in the brush thirty yards in the woods. The sound of rolling treads and tires were a constant presence. Snapping twigs and conversational Chinese grew louder as Chinese infantry guarded the convoy’s flank,

  Hart typed on his wrist computer and a mechanical voice spoke into Veech’s ear. “We attack. Not my call. Support coming. Get ready. Three minutes. Hit from tree line.”

  Veech nodded and passed the word to his squad leaders. A flutter of groans rose from the undergrowth. Leaves rustled from cautious movements to check weapons and reposition limbs for quick movement.

  This is crazy. What is command thinking?

  Veech sighed. He knew exactly what they were thinking. A surprise attack by a company here and now would cause more damage than charging against fortified defenses later. And, he had to admit, it would probably save more lives in the long run. That sentiment felt hollow, though, since it was he and his men who would likely be doing the dying today.

  Support is coming, they said?

  He silently laughed to himself. That’s something they always told young officer schmucks to get them to throw their men at impossible odds.

  Well, if we gotta go down, we won’t sell our lives cheap. The next time we face these pricks, they’ll be weaker because today they tangled with Second Company.

  “Attack,” an emotionless computer said into the earbuds of every waiting soldier.

  As one they leapt to their feet and sprinted. A roar broke out when enemy troops came into sight and the pace of their legs sped up. Dozens of rifles barked, cutting down the opposing picket line with ease.

  In seconds they hit the brakes, stopping just before exiting cover. At the bottom of a gentle slope was a column of men and machines. Hundreds of soldiers and at least fifty armored vehicles, a mix of triple-turret tanks, APCs, and utility vehicles.

  “Fire!” a voice yelled out.

  A cacophony erupted. Thousands of rounds tore into Chinese infantry caught in the open and tinged off armor plating. Soldiers scattered in a blizzard of directions in desperate search for protection.

  Screeching RPGs zipped forward, their rocket trails decorating the battlefield like streamers. Impacts plunged the enemy line into a haze of smoke. It cleared to reveal a few of the lighter
vehicles on fire, but the heavy tanks and APCs suffered little more than scorch marks with a couple immobilized with hits on their tracks.

  Turrets swiveled to aim at the tree line. A lump plugged Veech’s throat.

  It was like God cracking open the heavens, releasing every thunderbolt in the sky at once. Trees blew apart, turning them into thousands of pieces of woody shrapnel. An endless supply of fifty-caliber smart-bullets ripped into them, exploding all around in black puffs or disintegrating flesh. A trickle of small arms fire grew into a flood as enemy soldiers recovered from the initial shock.

  The Second wasn’t taking it laying down. They returned fire and RPGs whizzed down upon the armor, but it was a one-to-fifty exchange.

  Their strike hadn’t hit the entire enemy convoy. It was too long for a single company to engage. The unmolested ends moved to flank the lone outmatched foe.

  Veech jammed in a fresh magazine and trained it downfield but he felt a tug on his shoulder. He turned to see Hart. “Get deeper into the woods!”

  Looking right and left, Veech saw he was about the last man on the line. Hart took off and he followed as hell nipped at their heels.

  ***

  The APC cruised over virgin land at top speed, bouncing with each imperfection it rolled over. Reba’s limbs swayed with the rocking, her body held in place with shoulder straps. She was only partially aware of the pressure the tight fiber applied against her skin.

  Her mind was miles ahead of her body, sprinting to the sound of the cannons. Four spiders and four mini-tanks raced to catch the fleeing enemy. Zooming her optics, she saw the unaware prey laying waste to trees. Elements of their convoy moved clear of incoming fire.

  Damn it! Can’t those useless apes do anything right? All they had to do was sit behind cover and throw rocks. Once again it takes a woman to do a man’s job.

  Her bots increased speed. The spiders’ legs slammed into the ground with such force that it sent simulated trembles through her body. The thwmoop of mortars firing warmed her loins.

  Plumes of black soil shot into the air as rounds impacted in a scattered pattern. A lucky hit struck the top turret of a tank and burned through the thin armor to fill the confined space with a pressure wave to kill everyone inside. Venting gases made it look like a ready tea kettle.

  Panic reigned in the enemy ranks. Soldiers scurried like rats while some vehicles turned to face her and others ran.

  A pair of tanks trained their three barrels on her and released a volley of armor-piercing projectiles. The spiders were ahead of the game, each taking action to avoid harm. One flung out its legs to hug the ground. Two darted off at angles while the last couldn’t escape a strike to its laser ball.

  Reba’s head kicked back. “Fuck!” Secondary optics flickered on for the damaged unit. Without the laser, all it had was a rapidly-dwindling supply of mortar rounds. She sent it on a suicide charge to take heat off the others, which sent beam after beam against the heavily-shielded tanks.

  A trio of Chinese APCs engaged her sweeping mini-tanks with their twenty-five millimeter cannons. Zigging and zagging, most missed, but she was taking damage. A roar cut through the air as her entire complement of eight rockets lunged ahead to knife into the boxy carriers. Direct hits on two turned them into smoking heaps. More took damage but we're still standing.

  Her wounded spider closed and was torn to pieces by multiple hits. A sting of loss hurt Reba’s heart. She wouldn’t allow its sacrifice to be in vain. Concentrating their lasers, the three remaining heavyweights used the distraction to turn the opposing tanks’ front plating to slag.

  Reba let out a battle-cry. She sensed the startled reaction of the men around her and it pleased her.

  ***

  Veech caught sight of a grenade sailing toward their line. It landed between him and a private. “Get down!” He left his feet, tackling the boy to the forest floor.

  Bang!

  His ears rang, but he bolted up, tugging on the stunned trooper as he rose. “Get up and fire that weapon!”

  This was the end of the line for them. They either held the center of the woods, died in the open or died where they stood. Intense ceaseless fire poured in from their front, keeping their heads down while the enemy encircled their position.

  Veech kneeled behind a tree and emptied his mag with three-round bursts, forcing a squad of ambitious Chinese to rethink a bold advance.

  It’s not going to be that easy, you bastards.

  Soon it would be easy. He was down to his last three reloads and doubted anyone was much better.

  A new verse of battle sounds joined the clatter of small arms. Large explosions in the direction of the convoy could only mean one thing: help had arrived. If the noise hadn’t told him the change in the situation, the shift in enemy actions would have.

  The intensity of suppressive fire dropped off dramatically until it stopped. Hart screamed in the platoon’s ears to cease fire and save ammo. An eerie silence fell over the trees. A few seconds later, his improving hearing picked up Chinese officers shouting for them to pull back. Panic soaked their voices.

  “Attack!” blared in his ear.

  He raised his rifle and yelled. Others joined and followed him forward.

  Small arms fire again dominated the local space. A fluid fight ensued, with the enemy pausing to lay down surges of smart-bullets, then retreating as Veech and his men kept the pressure on.

  Veech weaved through the trunks, crushing plants and snapping sticks with hot steps of pursuit. Sporadic exchanges punctuated the deadliness of the hunt. He caught sight of fleeing Chinese infantryman making the mistake of running in a straight line.

  He leveled his rifle and rested his finger against the trigger. Coming to an abrupt stop, he took aim and sent a single round downfield. The target veered right at the last moment to avoid the slug. The projectile sensed it had missed and detonated inches from the man’s face.

  Tiny shards burned into the soft flesh, scarring his features and blinding him. He threw his hands to his face and screamed. The shriek sent a chill up Veech’s spine. He ended the suffering with another round in the man’s back.

  The company gained speed and almost overshot the tree line. Veech turned, spread out his arms and screamed, “Stop!” to arrest their enthusiasm.

  The line reformed. Veech looked left and saw where a BattleMaster detachment had wreaked havoc on the rear guard. Another two drone teams raced forward to press the assault. He scanned the convoy.

  Chinese tanks from the center reversed course to buy time for the rest of their brethren. He didn’t concern himself with those. The drones would take care of them. No, what he wanted was more of those who’d live to fight another day.

  Veech switched his com to companywide. “Every RPG left! Aim for the treads of the ones running away! Break their legs!”

  The guided munitions trickled out one at a time in random intervals, until a dozen vehicles sat to await their grim fate.

  ***

  Reba’s heart pounded in her chest. This was what she lived for, charging headlong into a shattered enemy.

  Rocket trails zipped out from the forest to disable more delicious targets for her to devour with her final two spiders and three mini-tanks. She wanted to surge ahead, taking the glory for herself, but she knew she couldn’t do it. Beat up, out of mortars and rockets, she needed the support of the BattleMasters coming up.

  They hit the jumbled mess of Chinese soldiers and smoking vehicles like a champion boxer’s jab. Chunks of metal and flesh were tossed aside. Mortars and missiles from the reinforcements hammered a pathetic holding force.

  Reba’s bots were the first inside the enemy perimeter. Her ball laser turrets swirled in all directions. The fifty-calibers on her tanks did the same as they swerved to bypass the cluster of disabled APCs and tanks.

  She lacked the firepower to dispatch them with ease and had her sights set on their crews, who abandoned the vehicles, leaving only skeleton forces to man their guns in an effo
rt to buy time.

  The mini-tanks brushed the edge of the woods. Branches struck her speeding units. She caught grimaces of the sorry souls cowering there. The new rear guard fired upon her but was immobile. She left them in her wake and descended down the slope with guns blazing into the nearly defenseless mob.

  It was a massacre and she loved it.

  ***

  Clunk. The stone Stanner tossed at the tree trunk deflected off. He reached down to pick up another projectile when the APC fired up its hydrogen engine. The flat bed hauling his initial supply of Wasps followed suit.

  Sergeant Stanford waved at him to load up. “We’re moving out, chief. Word has it we took a bite out of ‘em and are hauling ass for Shangri-La.”

  “That’s great.” Stanner frowned when Sanford’s smiling face turned away. Could it really end before I get a chance to show what I can do?”

  ***

  A rectangular-shaped cargo container slammed into place on the back of the truck, sending a deafening bang throughout the industrial center of American HQ.

  “Be careful!” Bach rushed to the dock foreman, wide-eyed. “This is critical war material! Everything could depend on it reaching the front as soon as possible and intact.”

  The extra Wasps should’ve been sent ahead in batches as they were finished, but a screw-up in logistics had held them until Bach checked their status.

  The foreman scratched a week’s worth of stubble on his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, doc, I get it. Your shit’s important.” He pointed at several loading trucks. “Their shit’s important. Their shit’s important, and some general told me his shit’s super important. It’ll get there as soon as we can and in the best shape we can. No guarantees, doc. There’s a war on, in case you hadn’t heard.”

  Bach straightened, but the man still towered over him. “I can make guarantees. I guarantee you’ll regret the rest of your life if this container doesn’t reach Warrant Officer Michael Stanner when he needs it.”