“Sir, First Platoon is reporting that they have secured the ridgeline,” said Cole.
“Okay, let’s join them up there. The rest can stay down here in all-around defense,” replied Sheridan.
They climbed to the top of the hill and joined Second Lieutenant Lowassa.
“Any sign of movement inside the camp?” Sheridan asked. His breath hung like fog in the cold morning air.
“None, sir,” reported Lowassa.
Sheridan brought up his thermal binoculars and looked over the facility. It was as dark and as quiet as a cemetery at night. His gut told him something was wrong and that he should be wary.
“Okay, Mister Lowassa. I want you to remain here until relieved by Ensign Jones and the headquarters’ heavy weapons teams.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When she is set on the ridge, I want you to push on and set up a hasty defense on the outskirts of the base facing due west. Make sure to linkup with Morgan and Robinson, who will already be there ahead of you.”
“Will do.”
Sheridan patted the young officer on the shoulder. “See you in the camp.”
“Okay, Ghost Two and Three, let’s get moving,” said Cole into his helmet mic. At the base of the ridgeline, like wraiths rising from the grave, the white-clad soldiers got to their feet and began to trudge up the hill.
Cole looked over at the UAV operators. “Stay here and report to Miss Jones when she takes command up here.”
The redheaded soldier nodded her understanding and took a seat in the snow.
Although both men knew better, Sheridan and Cole were soon out front of the company leading it toward the silent base. To the east, the first gray slivers of dawn began to creep up on the horizon. Clustered around the massive warehouse were what appeared to be the workers’ quarters and the Kurgan garrison’s barracks. All sat quiet and dark.
Sheridan spoke into his headset. “Ghost Two, detach a squad to First Sergeant Cole and then carry on to the small hill five hundred meters to the north of the camp. I want you to set up a blocking position up there in case a counterattack comes from that direction.”
“Roger, that, sir,” replied Morgan.
“Ghost Three, sweep through the buildings to the south of the warehouse and then go firm facing south.”
“Will do, sir,” reported Robinson.
Sheridan slowed his pace down as the squad from Morgan’s platoon dashed to catch up with him and Cole.
“What’s your name?” Cole asked the squad leader. His Kurgan was getting better by the day.
“Corporal Kolben,” replied the soldier.
“Okay, Kolben, stay close.”
“Yes, sir.” No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t get the former Chosen soldiers to use Cole’s actual rank. In the Kurgan system, there was only one grade of sergeant, so to them, he became just another officer.
They all took cover alongside a one-story building.
“Cover me,” said Sheridan as he reached for a closed door. His heart began to race as he pulled down on the handle and pushed the door open. He popped his head around the corner. Sheridan half expected to see a Kurgan soldier standing there waiting to kill him. Instead, the inside of the house was unlit. Frost covered the walls. The heat has been out for some time, thought Sheridan. He brought up his rifle to his shoulder and went to take a step inside but found Cole hanging onto the back of his winter jacket.
“You’re not a lieutenant anymore,” said Cole. “Let the men do their jobs.”
Sheridan lowered his weapon and stepped back.
Cole tapped Kolben on the arm. “Clear the house.” The soldier nodded. With his men close behind, he entered the building.
A minute later, Kolben came back to the open doorway to report. “Sir, this house once belonged to a person who worked in the warehouse. He’s nowhere to be found, but there’s a lot of blood splattered all over the walls of the bedroom.”
None of what was happening made any sense to Sheridan. He flipped on the light underneath the forestock of his rifle and said, “Show me the bedroom.”
Sheridan found the room to be in worse condition than described. There were blood stains on the walls, floor, and in the bed itself. The sheets looked like they had been torn to pieces. He keyed his mic. “All stations, this is Ghost Six, we’ve entered a house. It looks like the occupant was murdered; however, his body is nowhere to be seen. Be vigilant, but don’t fire unless you are being attacked. There could be survivors hidden inside the base. Six, out.”
Cole contacted Komada, who was in the ridgeline with Jones. “Komada, send your message via the drones. Perhaps someone will hear it and come out into the open.”
Almost right away, the pre-recorded message calling on the Chosen workers and soldiers to surrender came down out of the sky. Sheridan and Cole walked outside and looked around. If people were in hiding and could hear the message, they weren’t responding.
Morgan reported, “Ghost Six, this is Ghost Two, we’ve skirted the warehouse and have begun to clear the three buildings between us and the hill. So far all of my squads are reporting the same thing. No bodies, just a lot of blood.”
“Sir, we’ve encountered the same,” reported Robinson, as did Lowassa a minute later.
“Very well, once you’ve completed your sweeps, go firm and await further orders. Cole and I will check out the warehouse.”
Cole said, “Sir, we should have the drones widen the search for us. Their thermal cameras should be able to find people if they’re hiding in the woods to the west and south of the base.”
“Make it happen,” replied Sheridan.
The sound of the UAVs’ engines faded as they flew away from the installation.
“Shall we?” said Sheridan to Cole, pointing toward the darkened warehouse with his rifle.
“Sure thing, sir,” replied Cole as he waved at Kolben and his squad to take the lead.
29
The warehouse dwarfed everything around it. Like all the other buildings in the camp, it stood silent and dark.
Kolben tried a side door. It wasn’t locked. He pointed at the two men behind him who dashed inside and took up fire positions covering the rest of the squad as it entered the warehouse.
“Safe,” called out Kolben.
Sheridan and Cole walked inside and were taken aback by the sheer size of the building. Sheridan judged it to be over three hundred meters long with a height of thirty meters and a width in excess of fifty meters. He shone his light around the room and saw there were shelves as far back as the eye could see filled with boxes and containers.
“Spread out and search the place,” said Sheridan to Kolben.
“Odd that they’d take off and leave all this stuff behind,” said Cole.
“Maybe they did not have a chance to pack it all up when they skedaddled out of here,” replied Sheridan.
“Yeah, that’s if they left.”
“If they didn’t leave, then where are they? And what the hell happened to them?”
“Major . . . Major Sheridan, I think we’ve found something,” called out Kolben.
Sheridan and Cole ran over. “What did you find?” asked Sheridan.
“This,” replied Kolben, shining his light into a darkened office.
“Jesus, what happened to him?” said Sheridan when he saw the shredded remains of a Kurgan officer lying on the cold floor. His body armor had been torn apart. The corpse’s entrails had been ripped from its body and spread everywhere.
“Where’s his head?” asked Cole.
Sheridan had been so shocked to come across such a grisly find that he had failed to notice the head was missing. He stepped over the body and looked down. The head hadn’t been cut from its shoulders as much as torn.
“Are there predators large enough on this rock which could have done this to this poor sod?” Cole asked.
“The intel brief didn’t mention any large predators.”
“Major, this place is giving me the cre
eps. I’m all for setting the charges and blowing this warehouse and everything in it to kingdom come and then getting the hell out of here.”
“I agree, but I’d like to find out what happened here. There must be surveillance discs at the Kurgan platoon location. Perhaps they can shed some light on what happened to the people here.”
An excited soldier called out, “Sir, I think there is a floor hidden beneath this one.”
Sheridan walked out of the office and saw a man holding up a trapdoor.
“Look, sir,” said the soldier as he shone his light on a metal ladder leading down.
“I wonder what the Kurgs had down there?” said Sheridan.
“Let Kolben take a look, sir,” said Cole.
Sheridan shook his head. “Corporal Kolben and his squad can guard this entrance in case we have to come back up through it quickly.”
“I knew you’d say that. In that case, let me lead.” Cole set his foot on the ladder and began to climb down into the cold darkness. He climbed down for perhaps thirty meters before his feet touched pavement. He pulled his rifle off his back and shone his light all around. They had come down into a hallway. At the end was a closed door.
“Maybe this wasn’t the smartest decision I’ve ever made,” said Sheridan. His voice was barely louder than a whisper.
“It’s a bit late now for regrets. Come on, sir, let’s see what’s behind that door.”
Cole walked over and tried the door. It was unlocked. With his weapon at the ready, he pulled the door all the way open. Inside was an abandoned laboratory.
“Maybe our luck has changed,” said Sheridan as he picked a couple of large flashlights from a desk and turned them on. The scale of the room quickly became apparent. It was at least half the size of the warehouse above it.
“What the hell were they doing down here?” said Cole as he moved his light over a row of steel tables.
Sheridan’s blood turned cold when he saw leg and arm restraints on the tables. Frozen blood covered the floor beneath the gurneys.
“Sir, if that creeps you out, take a look at these,” said Cole.
Sheridan turned around to see Cole’s flashlight illuminating a shelf full of sharpened tools. They all looked too big and clumsy to have been used as precision cutting tools. “We need to find out who was down here and what they were doing. Look for a log book or a computer workstation we can access.”
After a couple of minutes rummaging through the lab, Cole said, “I’ve found a notebook but I can’t read it.”
Sheridan took the book in his hand and opened it. “It’s the personal journal of Major Krozen. He’s a research scientist with the advanced bioweapons branch of the Kurgan Imperial Guard.”
“Those buggers again,” said Cole, remembering back to their fight to the death with the Imperial Guard on the Kurgan prison planet.
Sheridan skimmed through the pages until he found a passage to read. “Krozen wrote that they had been given the entire human population from the captured colony on Ambria Minor to experiment on.”
“What kind of demented experimentation are we talking about?”
“I’m not sure. The terms ‘aggression enhancement’ and ‘surgical augmentation’ are listed several times in his notes, but that’s about it. His more detailed notes must be on a disc. Where exactly did you find this book?”
“Here,” said Cole, pointing at a nearby desk.
Sheridan dug through the drawers of the desk until he found a small box with six discs inside of it. “This should help us understand what these bastards were up to.” He secured the box into a pocket on his parka. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Screw blowing up the warehouse. Wendy can do some target practice on it with the transport’s cannons. Fleet’s going to want to know what’s on these discs, like yesterday.”
“I’m with you, boss.”
Lowassa’s voice crackled in Sheridan’s earpiece. The message was garbled. “Say again, Ghost One, say again your message,” said Sheridan into his mic.
His message came in much clearer the second time. “We’ve found a survivor. I say again, we’ve found a survivor.”
Sheridan began to run. “That’s great news. Hold him until we reach your position.” The first thing he noticed when he stepped outside of the warehouse was that it was snowing. With a cold wind coming down from the north, it sent the snow blowing like a white curtain across the camp. Accompanied by Kolben’s squad, they ran to First Platoon’s location on the west side of the base.
“Over here, sir,” called out a soldier standing outside of a two-story building.
Sheridan saw the man through the falling snow and ran to the open door. He stepped inside and brushed the snow off his uniform. “Where is Mister Lowassa?”
“He’s in the basement, sir,” replied the soldier.
Cole looked over his shoulder at Kolben. “Stay here and keep watch while Major Sheridan and I see what is going on.”
Sheridan and Cole followed the soldier down into the dimly lit basement. They found Lowassa and couple of men huddled around a figure cowering in the corner.
Lowassa saw Sheridan and came to attention. “Sir, we searched this house where we found this Kurgan officer hiding under a blanket.”
“Come again?” said Sheridan. He had never heard of a Kurgan acting in such a cowardly way.
“We found him right here. He was using this blanket to try and hide from us.”
“Let me see him.” Sheridan moved past the gaggle of soldiers and bent down so he could look the Kurgan in the eyes. Half of the Kurgan’s face was covered with an intricate tattoo.
“Young Guard?” asked Cole.
“He sure is,” said Sheridan. “He’s a senior lieutenant and looks like he’s in shock.” Sheridan took his flashlight and moved it back and forth in front of the Kurgan’s golden eyes. The officer’s eyes never moved; they just stared straight ahead as if Sheridan and the rest of the soldiers weren’t in the room.
“Did he say anything when you found him?” asked Cole.
Lowassa nodded. “‘Lord Kurgan, protect my soul.’ He repeated that for about a minute and then nothing.”
“Have your medic check him out and then bundle him up,” said Sheridan. “I want to take him with us. Perhaps he can explain what went down here.”
Sheridan removed his helmet and then ran his fingers through his hair. “What do you think, First Sergeant? Time to collapse the perimeter and get the hell out of Dodge while we still can?”
“Couldn’t have said it any better,” replied Cole.
Jones’ voice came over the radio. “Ghost Six, this is Ghost Five, the UAV team has just picked up a massive thermal signature coming down from the north toward the camp.”
A shiver ran down Sheridan’s back. “How large of a signature?”
“We’re unable to tell. The snow is affecting the thermal cameras on the drones.”
“Ghost Five, where is it now?”
“Less than three hundred meters north of Ghost Two’s position and closing fast.”
“Ghost Two, can you see what Ghost Five has reported?” Sheridan asked Morgan.
“Negative,” replied Morgan. “With the snow blowing in our faces we can barely see twenty meters in front of us.”
Sheridan’s combat instincts kicked in. “All stations, this is Ghost Six, stand to, I say again, stand to. We have an unidentified force bearing down on Ghost Two’s position. Watch your rules of engagement and only engage hostile targets.”
Jones’ voice came over the radio again. This time, she sounded scared. “Ghost Six, we have detected two more thermal signatures moving toward us.”
“From which direction?” asked Cole.
“There is a large group moving straight toward Ghost One’s location. The other one is coming up from the south.”
“We’ve got to get topside,” said Sheridan to Cole.
They had barely reached the top of the stairs when Morgan reported over the radio, “Contact, wait
out.”
Sheridan sprinted outside and looked toward Morgan’s position. It was hopeless. He couldn’t see what was going on through the snowstorm. He swore. His people were under attack by an unknown force and at the moment, there was nothing he could do about it.
30
Morgan ran forward to try to see whatever it was coming their way. He had barely gone five meters when firing erupted all around him. Whoever it was attacking his platoon had encircled his position. He stopped next to one of his squad leaders and peered out into the snow but couldn’t see a thing.
“Did you see what attacked you?” he asked the corporal.
“That, sir,” replied the soldier pointing at a lifeless shape at his feet.
Morgan bent down to examine the body. He saw the dead assailant was a man in his late twenties with dark skin, wearing dirty, gray coveralls. He was human or, at least, had been at one time. His mouth lay open. Morgan grimaced when he saw the man’s teeth had all been sharpened to a point. It reminded him of a shark’s mouth. His left arm had been replaced with a crudely built mechanical arm. Clenched in the corpse’s fist was a razor-sharp ax.
The sound of a gun firing right above his head startled Morgan. He turned his head to see a man fall to the ground with a hole blasted through his skull. He was dressed like the other attacker, except this man’s lower jaw was made of. Barely a second later, a wave of attackers emerged out of the snowstorm. Howling and screaming like wild animals, they ran straight at him. Morgan flipped the safety off on his assault rifle and fired off a burst into one of the assailants, killing her. The rest fell to the soldiers standing next to Morgan like wheat under the scythe.
Morgan stood up. His mind was reeling. It was as if they had been dropped into the worst possible nightmare scenario a platoon leader could possibly face. An unknown attacker that didn’t care how many casualties he took as he was no longer capable of rational thought. Morgan reached up to key his mic when a long metal spear came flying out of the falling snow and struck him in the chest. His knees buckled and Morgan tumbled to the ground. He lay there unable to move or call for help. With his vision narrowing, Morgan knew he was going to die. The last thing he saw before his world went black was his men fighting for their lives as spears and axes rained down on them out in the open.
Ghost Company Page 18
