Uncommon Purpose (The Hope Island Chronicles Book 1)

by P J Strebor

  “Yes lass, where?”

  She swallowed hard, held up five fingers, pointed forward and hit her palm quickly.

  “Fifty plus coming from the bow, fast,” Redpath interpreted.

  “Many … from the stern. Don't … know how many. Lots.” News that they were surrounded and cut off from all assistance should have produced a grim response from the marine sergeant. Instead a canny grin crept onto his face. Archie decided right then she would never understand marines.

  “Did they see you, Archie?”

  “No … too quick … for them.” Redpath knows my name?

  “All right lass, they’ll be coming for us now,” Redpath said. “They don't know you're down here so hotfoot it to corridor three and hide. When you can, make your way back to the boat. Tell the commander the entire enemy force is at our position. Have you got that Archie? The entire enemy force.”

  Archie nodded and Redpath turned her sweating body around and pushed her down the side corridor. While she staggered away from the doomed team Redpath's voice grew to a bellowing crescendo.

  “We will move forward and link up with Beta Team.” A slight pause. “Now damn you! Run!”

  CHAPTER 55

  Nathan stood shoulder to shoulder with Dearkov, careful to avoid being hacked to pieces by her swinging ax. He parried the Headhunter's blade and struck into the opening beneath his chin. Dearkov’s ax smashed another brown clad enemy with a horrendously violent blow to the helmet.

  Meta and Ozzie covered the gaps from behind. A huge headhunter charged. Moe shot him in the stomach with her last arrow. The six remaining combatants gave ground. Through their visors terrified eyes said they wanted nothing to do with the crazed Monitor Corps demons. For the first time in the remarkably brief battle the odds were almost even.

  When arrows started cutting them down the headhunter troops had been first surprised then shocked into inaction. Their broadswords were uncivilized weapons wielded clumsily by a barbarous species. They were no match for skilled exponents of the blade.

  “You outnumbered us four to one and this is the best you can do?” Nathan roared.

  The enemy’s nerves broke, they ran for their lives. Apparently Dearkov disliked running. She pulled Nathan aside, hoisted her ax over her head, swung it three times and hurled it spinning toward the fleeing soldiers. The heavy ax smashed two headhunters across the back of their helmets. Their limp bodies dropped to the deck.

  Nathan leapt over their inert bodies and sprinted after the remaining Pruessens.

  The last four headhunters were fifty meters from the entrance to engineering. Safety was almost within their reach when Nathan caught up to the straggler. He struck under the straggler’s armor. The blade smashed past ribs to rip into the lung. When the enemy fell Nathan twisted his sword free from the body. Nathan swung his blade, catching the next enemy behind the knees. The headhunter screamed as he collapsed to the deck. Nathan ran on.

  The last two glanced back at the blood-soaked devil who closed on them. Headhunters were opportunistic raiders used to attacking defenseless civilians. The sight of what pursued them caused them to whimper. They were ten meters from the engineering hatch when Nathan drew level with them. He swung his sword at the enemy’s head. The headhunter dropped to the deck, avoiding the blow. The sword continued, slicing the throat of the other one. He fell in a bloody heap.

  Nathan skidded to a halt and rounded on the one he had missed.

  The terrified scum had fallen to his knees his helmet thrown aside, hands raised.

  “I surrender! I surrender! You’re Monitor Corps. You’ve gotta accept my surrender.” His eyes were huge, his bearded face covered with filth and sweat.

  Nathan wrinkled his nose. All headhunters stank but this one had compounded his misery by soiling his armor. Nathan wanted to drive his sword through the wretch's eye. He hung onto a tiny wisp of humanity that hovered at the edge of his bloodlust madness.

  “Name.”

  “Huh?”

  “What is your name?”

  “Err, Himmel.”

  Nathan knelt beside him.

  “Himmel, I am going to ask you some questions.”

  The interrogation proved him to be a dense thug, a blunt instrument too stupid to know anything except how to butcher civilians. Nathan leaned in close to him. “If I find you have lied to me …”

  Himmel cringed.

  A wave of nausea crashed over Nathan as he stood. Coming down from a massive adrenaline high had sapped his energy. He remembered the headhunter he had taken at the back of the knees.

  When he turned around three middies and a blood soaked petty officer stood in a loose group staring at him. What did he see in their eyes? Respect? Uncertainty? Shock? Fear? Did his friends fear him? He wanted to scream at them: They’re only Pruessens for Christ’s sake.

  “Will someone get that for me, please?” he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at cowering headhunter.

  Nathan pushed past them and found the headless body of the last headhunter. Dearkov had not been in the mood to show mercy. He dragged his aching body back to the boat.

  CHAPTER 56

  Archie's heart beat so fast she thought the headhunters would hear it. She had barely slipped up the access ladder when a group of enemy troops passed below. If one of them had glanced up the access tube … When they were gone Archie continued on, her soft soled footwear silent on the hard deck-plates.

  Alert for the tiniest sound Archie silently jogged to corridor one on deck four. The clatter of tramping boots caused her skin to prickle. Archie spun the dog on the nearest hatch and ducked inside. When the stampeding boots faded, her heart started to beat again. She examined the large, dimly lit room and noted a long control panel positioned before a clear rectangular view-plate. Totally by mistake she had wandered into the Cargo Control Center. Cautiously, she edged to the view-plate. Below, a scene of frenzied activity greeted her.

  Against the starboard bulkhead a five-meter wide loading hatch was the single entry point into the hold. The hatch’s smashed locking mechanism hung from the wall. Sergeant Redpath shouted at the fourteen members of Alpha and Beta Teams, officers and enlisted alike. Archie quickly recognized what they were doing. With applied brute strength they were building an artificial corridor out of the available containers.

  At the end of the hastily contrived passage they had cobbled together a shoulder-high barricade by stacking the smaller containers together. The headhunters would have to run the gauntlet of the three-meter wide corridor and scale the barricade to get to the good guys. The teams faced odds of more than six to one. By the weight of sheer numbers the enemy would overcome mere courage.

  Behind the barricade the eighteen rescued civvies huddled in the far corner.

  She repositioned to get a better view and the marine spotted her. Redpath glanced up winked and jerked his head aft. Archie got the message and stepped to the hatch. From somewhere in her memory, a school history class perhaps, the word Alamo came to mind.

  CHAPTER 57

  In the ten minutes since the battle ended Nathan's blood lust had cooled. His exhaustion faded to a numbing lethargy. However the ache in his chest had little to do with the sword blow to his breastplate.

  The last time he had killed he employed surgically precise shots fired to stop creatures who were threatening his family. There had been distance to those engagements. This time he had been close enough to smell the enemy’s last breaths, feel the shuddering of their bodies as life deserted them. Close enough for their blood to splash across his armor.

  Combat had a numbing effect but as the adrenaline bled away pain flooded in. Still, there was nothing to prevent him fighting on.

  “Movement,” Ozzie said from his sentry post at the open hatch. Nathan leapt to his feet. “Ha!” Ozzie laughed. “It’s a female of the genus Lepus.”

  At the end of the corridor, Archie froze at the sight of the battle’s gory aftermath. Her
face turned white as she cautiously sidestepped the bloody corpses. Nathan caught her as she staggered through the hatch and cradled her head in his lap as she fell. Archie snatched the offered canteen with both hands, gulping down half its contents. Cmdr Demianski hovered, waiting with inhuman patience.

  “Commander,” Archie gasped, “both teams … trapped … deck five.” She took another sip of water and leaned against Nathan's aching chest. “Sergeant Redpath … says he is … surrounded by … entire … headhunter force. He emphasized … the entire force, sir.”

  The commander’s mouth stretch thin as he slowly nodded his head. He keyed his larynx mike. “Truculent, we have a go for Gamma Team. I say again, we have a go for Gamma Team.”

  CHAPTER 58

  “This is a simple enough plan,” Cmdr Barbara Grimmett said, “but theory doesn’t always follow planning. So we do this by the numbers, people. If we fuck this up many of our shipmates will pay the price.”

  The four team members nodded thoughtfully.

  Her comm beeped. “Grimmett.”

  “You have a go, commander,” Waugh said. “Good hunting, Babs.”

  “Roger that, skipper. LB three out.” Grimmett stepped onto the landing boat flight deck and tapped Chief Miller on the shoulder. The boat shuddered when the throttles pushed into the red zone. A minute later, after matching speed, it leapt from Truculent's topside.

  Landing Boat three docked with Picaroon three minutes later. The boat hatch opened and Grimmett attached the tumbler to the headhunter's external hatch. While it worked on the combination she secured flat sensor suppressors to each corner of the external hatch. Without the suppressors set exactly in place her team would show on the enemy’s scans as soon as the hatch opened.

  The tumbler clicked into place and the hatch opened. They made their way hastily to deck one without incident and minutes later approached the bridge from the stern. With a blinding flash, lighting came to life as the power was restored. They would now show up on the internal sensors.

  “Go, go, go,” Grimmett yelled. Slinging swords and grasping energy weapons the team fell against the bridge hatch.

  “Babs, you're going to have a whole lot of company in about three minutes,” Demianski reported.

  “Terrific.”

  Grimmett attached the tumbler to the bridge hatch. While the last combination engaged, the five combatants steeled themselves to charge into the teeth of fire. With a final click the bridge hatch slid aside.

  Gamma team stared with disbelief at the slab before them. Brilliant in its simplicity, the solid section of toughened battle steel stood as an impenetrable barrier between the team and their objective. No outside locking devices were visible.

  “Harry, the shaped charge or the cutting torch?”

  Matrakas went to work on the barrier with his cutting torch. His doubtful expression did not fill Babs with confidence. For a full minute he applied the torch to the unyielding hatch cover.

  A sound reached her ears, stampeding feet on the deck-plates, the shrieking cacophony of a headhunter charge.

  “One minute, Babs, and you’ll be shit-deep in enemy troops,” Demianski warned. “Report your status.”

  “Main hatch open,” Grimmett said. “There is a secondary hatch of toughened battle armor held in place by a manual locking system. I will use the shaped charge to try and gain access.”

  “Hold on that. Harry, will the charge work?”

  Matrakas’ mouth tightened. “Against battle armor it won't make a dent.”

  “That's it then.”

  “Hold on,” Grimmett snapped. “We can still – ”

  “Commander,” Demianski said, “you will withdraw your team immediately. Confirm your orders.”

  With ashes in her mouth Grimmett said, “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “Get the hell out of there. Hostiles are approaching your position from forward and astern.”

  “Moving now.”

  ***

  When the lights came on Redpath grabbed his rifle.

  “Everyone behind the barricade.”

  A high-pitched squeal began to echo through the hold. A narrow shower of sparks sprinkled from the main hatch.

  “Commander, do you read me?”

  “Yes Rusty. Bring me up to date with your situation.”

  “We are in the main port side cargo hold. The enemy is using cutting tools to get to us. I estimate no more than ten minutes until they get through. How is Auntie doing?”

  The commander's update on Grimmett's failure painted a gloomy picture. “Can you hold out, Rusty?”

  “Guess we'll have to,” Redpath said.

  A long pause followed. “You have eighty plus on the other side of the hatch.” Again the silence.

  “We’ll make sure to take some of them with us.”

  “Very well. Demianski out.”

  ***

  Cmdr Grimmett fired her rifle, bringing down another enemy combatant. Gamma team fell under attack twenty meters from their LB. A desperate running gun battle ensued as the Athenians backed toward the boat. Blazing silver pulsar fire ricocheted off the bulkheads from more than twenty enemy soldiers. The gammas killed five of their attackers and wounded an unknown number. Just shy of the LB Iris Ahrens was hit in the chest. Grimmett dragged her into the protection of the boat.

  “Chief, stand by to disengage on my mark,” Grimmett yelled.

  “Standing by.”

  Grimmett removed the shaped charge from her satchel and primed it.

  “Fall back to the boat now,” she yelled.

  Firing automatic rifle bursts the team cleared the corridor of all resistance before diving into the boat. Grimmett pulled the pin on the improvised explosive device, threw it into the corridor and secured the hatch.

  “Now, chief,” she yelled.

  To the accompaniment of severe grinding the LB disengaged from Picaroon. Grimmett counted the seconds. She had no idea if the makeshift bomb would work.

  Through the forward view-plate she saw a brief burst of orange flames as Picaroon’s hatch disintegrated. The escaping air turned into fine mist as it bled from the vessel. Most pleasing to the eye were the four mangled bodies expelled into space.

  While the medic worked on Iris, Grimmett reported to Demianski.

  “Commander, we have egressed Picaroon and are in transit to Truculent.”

  “Very well.”

  “So, what do we do now?”

  “I suppose we’ll have to come up with another plan.”

  ***

  From the outset the operation had been plagued by bad luck. Without the ingenious secondary hatch to frustrate their efforts, Gamma Team would have had the bridge crew for breakfast. Redpath reflected that bad luck could undo the best-laid plans.

  The COB stood by Redpath’s side watching the line of sparks make its final slow cut. The cutting torch spilled the embers onto the deck of the purpose made corridor CPO Rocca had named Redpath’s Run.

  “Well Emmett,” Scaroni said, “it's been quite a life we've had.”

  “Wouldn’t have had it any other way, Corrina.”

  In silence he stared at the hatch for some time while contemplating their short futures.

  “This is the only way for soldiers to retire,” Scaroni said

  “Definitely!”

  She stepped close and whispered. “I'll take care of the civvies, if you like?”

  He snorted without humor. “I'll deal with my responsibilities.”

  “Fair enough.”

  The line of sparks stopped when they reached the hatch’s lower coaming. Minutes passed before the lights went out. Once again the overheads cast a dull green hue across the hold. Now we're for it.

  “Switch,” Redpath yelled.

  The fourteen determined men and women prepared for the final assault.

  A great slab of hatch crashed onto the deck. Redpath braced for the sound of the screaming, frenzied attack. Inst
ead, a tall, lean man stepped through the opening and onto Redpath’s Run. The cheeky sod marched down the corridor smiling as he examined the makeshift construction. Rank after rank of armored troops followed him. All were armed with broadswords. The newcomer stopped five meters from the barricade while his troops crowded in behind him. Removing his helmet revealed a long, pock-marked face lacking the usual headhunter beard. His hands went to his hips.

  “Who speaks for this detachment?” he demanded.

  ***

  “I suppose we’ll have to come up with another plan,” Cmdr Demianski said, ending the transmission.

  Nathan noted the dull hue of defeat in the commander’s eyes.

  Demianski glanced at Nathan, did a double take then sighed.

  “Very well, Telford, if you’ve got something to say, get it off your chest.”

  As succinctly as he could, Nathan patiently explained the bones of his strategy. The commander procrastinated.

  “You’ve seen what we can do to an organized enemy in a confined space,” Nathan said.

  Cmdr Demianski set a hostile eye on the acting ensign. “I saw everything you did, Telford. Everything.” He rubbed his chin. “If they drop the dampening field, they’ll detect your team’s weapons emissions. Even if your sensor suppressors mask your bio signatures you will show up on their internal sensors. When that happens – ”

  Nathan slammed his sidearm onto the console. Four more sidearms joined his.

  “If this plan doesn't work a few sidearms won't make a shit’s bit of difference, will they?” Nathan’s expelled a noisy breath between pursed lips. “Commander, I apologize for my … abruptness. I appreciate that the responsibility for this operation falls squarely on your shoulders. But we can’t just sit here while our shipmates are butchered. To do nothing is unconscionable, sir.”

  The commander shook his head.

  “I don’t like the idea of sending grommits into the teeth of battle.” He shook his head again. “But I’ll agree to this as long as you stick to the plan. Do you read me, ensign?”

  “Aye, sir.”