Scouts Out 3 - War

by Danny Loomis

  “We’ll have a live feed coming through in a minute on Tac three. Needs to be sent to the rebel HQ. Get hold of a woman named Bernadette and tell her it’s coming, will you?”

  “Wilco.” The comm went dead.

  “Scout one and two, someone closing on your backside. Looks like a kid. Got a rifle.”

  Two Eagles seemed to sink into the ground and disappear. Irish keyed his comm. “This is Scout one. Don’t shoot him. Not yet.” He turned, raising his faceplate as well as his hands. “I’m a friend. Mister Stefans asked me to get you to Gaston. They want to help.”

  The shadowy figure lowered his rifle and stepped forward, the light from the window falling across him. Grief and anger still masked the once yourthful face. “Stefans? Yeah, I know him. Glad you came. Wasn’t sure anyone left knew ‘bout this place. Ole man Yeager used to live here. Died couple years ago.” He stepped around Irish and opened the door.

  Inside the youthful chatter died when Irish entered, all eyes on him. “What happened?” he asked.

  A flood of emotion struck him when sobs and whimpers arose from twelve throats.

  “They killed all our folks,” a voice grated behind him.

  He twisted around to the young man. “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Dave. Dave Sterns.” He sank to the floor, tears starting. “I watched while that Goddamned Alliance sicko shot Dad for no reason.”

  “Did you say Alliance?”

  Dave angrily wiped tears away. “Yeah, a bunch of them and some Leg soldiers. Kept killin’ and burnin’ till it was all gone. If it wasn’t for Ma they would have had me, too. She jumped on ‘em when they grabbed me. I crawled under the building and out the other side.”

  Minutes later he ran down, no more story in him. Once more he let the tears come. Most of the others had quieted, except for the occasional whimper. Irish let his eyes sweep the room, vaguely surprised to feel moisture on his cheeks. “How’d all of you escape?”

  “Our folks sent us to the safe place on the hill,” a girl in her early teens said. “Ever since the Legs been around, they thought it best to have an escape plan for us kids.”

  Irish did a slow pivot, fixing each grieving child’s face in his mind. “Tomorrow morning we’ll take you to Gaston. Some of you have relatives there, and all of you will have a safe place to stay. Right now, let’s try and get some sleep.” He lifted Dave to his feet. “C’mon outside, will you?”

  Once away from the others, Dave’s face once more hardened. “You’re with the rebels, ain’t you?”

  “We’re working with them.” He indicated a nearby log. “Let’s sit a minute. Like to ask you a couple more questions.”

  They’d just gotten settled when Two Eagles appeared out of the darkness. “Bernadette said thanks. They got the whole thing. Went out live on all stations.”

  Belated relief washed through Irish. He’d completely forgotten. “Thanks, man.” He turned back to Dave. “You remember anyone’s name being mentioned?”

  “Yeah, there was a fat guy named Pauley. Captain Pauley. He was with the Legs. Didn’t seem to mind when that Vogel creep started killing folks.”

  Irish suddenly found it hard to breathe through the tightness in his chest. He felt Two Eagles’ hand clamp on his shoulder. It couldn’t be. “Did you say Vogel?”

  “Right. He really liked to see people die. Now I know what evil looks like on two legs.”

  “His death is mine,” breathed Two Eagles, eyes wide. On Edo, he and Brita had been tortured by him, with Brita ending up permanently crippled because of it.

  Irish shuddered. To have the beast who’d tortured his fiancée on the same planet…He surged to his feet. “No, his death will be ours together, Brother.”

  Dave glanced between the two. “What the hell’s wrong with you guys? I tell you the name of a walkin’ dead man and you freak out.”

  Irish faced him “A walking dead man? What makes you say that?”

  “Because next time I see him will be through the scope of my rifle.”

  Two Eagles managed a grim smile. “Looks like we got competition in our quest.” He held out his hand. “Dave, I’m Two Eagles. This is Irish. We’ve also sworn to kill that maggoty excuse of a human being.”

  “Take me with you,” Dave said. “Once the kids are safe in Gaston, I want to become a freedom fighter.”

  Irish indicated his rifle. “You any good with that?”

  “I’m the best shot in the District. Knock down a running deer at seven hundred meters, and nail targets at nine hundred ten out of ten times.”

  Irish and Two Eagles looked at each other in surprise. “How old are you?” asked Two Eagles.

  “I’ll be eighteen in three months. You gotta take me. I know I need more training before I can take on both the Legs and Alliance to get to the Maggot.”

  A sudden disorienting weakness hit Irish. He touched his chest. “Dave, get back inside. Douse all the lights and keep everyone absolutely silent. Company’s coming.”

  “What’s up?” Two Eagles asked.

  “Shuttle just dropped off a squad of Alliance troops. They were patrolling the area by air and spotted lights in the cabin.” He pointed north. “They’re about two hundred fifty meters that way, moving slow.”

  “Want us to remove ‘em quiet-like?”

  Irish nodded. “In the meantime, I’ll pay a visit to the shuttle.” He moved out rapidly, fastening his Mark IV down securely and taking out his needler. On single shot it was silent, making it the ideal weapon in these situations.

  He approached the Alliance shuttle cautiously, on the lookout for security. So far, all he’d spotted had been one guard lounging in the opening of the rear ramp. Sloppy. A slow circuit of the ship with no other precautions noted eased his mind even more. Time to move in.

  Irish crawled to within 30 meters of the guard and fired his needler, putting two rounds in his head. He waited twenty seconds–good, no alarms–and crept up the ramp.

  Two men conversed in low tones on the flight deck. A double shot to the head of each, and the shuttle was his. Now to wait and see if Two Eagles and his team were successful. He busied himself dragging the bodies into the small bay of the shuttle, and rolling them out of the way against one bulkhead.

  Minutes later Two Eagles commed. “All Clear. Need help with the trash.”

  He smiled grimly. Good description. “On my way.” He exited the shuttle and trotted back the way he’d come.

  It was two busy hours before they’d cleaned up the site. Irish gave a last critical look around the clearing. “Okay, think that’ll do it.”

  Dave had ventured over from the cabin in time to assist with carrying the bodies back to the shuttle. “What’re you going to do with the extra shuttle?”

  “Dump it far enough away they won’t suspect it happened here,” he said. “In fact, we’d better get with it. We’ve got to get your bunch over to Gaston. You want to go back to the cabin and get the others ready to go?” He watched him trot off. Definitely had the makings of a good troop.

  Two Eagles walked up, followed by the rest of his team. “We’re done.”

  “All right. Once we drop off the kids, we’ll join you in the south. I’ll even give Wells back when we get there.”

  Two Eagles sighed. “Damn, and here I thought you’d reward us for a job well done.” There were snickers and outright laughter in the group he led to the Alliance shuttle.

  Irish trotted off, mind busy. Wells had called ten minutes ago. They were on the ground just a couple hundred meters from the cabin.

  Dawn was breaking when Irish guided the shuttle to a landing next to a stream, over a hundred kilometers south of Gaston. Irish glanced at Nolan while lowering the ramp. “You feel up to flying back to the rebel base? I’ll stay in the co-pilot’s chair to handle the comm and cloaking.”

  “Sounds good, Sir,” Nolan said with a grin.

  Irish headed into the bay just as Two E
agles and the team arrived. Wells, half asleep in one of the seats, perked up. “Hey, is it time to go to work yet?”

  “Man, you’ve been on vacation since they screwed up and made you a Sergeant,” Two Eagles said. He turned to the rest. “Put your gear away, and strap in. Next stop, real chow and a shower.”

  Irish slid into a seat next to him. “How’d it go?”

  “No problems. I turned on their comm, so someone’ll be around to investigate when they get annoyed enough from the steady signal of an open mike.” He shook his head, lips drawing into a thin line. “I still want to kill something. Ever since finding out Vogel’s on the same planet…”

  “Me too,” Irish said. “Makes it hard to concentrate. I promise you, though, we’ll go looking for him soon as we get a chance.”

  “He might come looking for us first. All those dead bodies with needler holes in ‘em might be hard to ignore.”

  Irish nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. In fact, maybe we can use his eagerness to our advantage.” He stood, moving towards the flight deck. “In the meantime, we’d better head for the barn. Not sure about you, but I could do with a shower.”

  * * *

  “Hello, Bernadette. How’s my favorite receptionist doing today?” Irish strolled in, buoyed by her smile. God, she was good looking. He handed her a small package, face reddening. “Brought this back from our trip. It’s for you.”

  “Me?” Her smile grew even larger. “You shouldn’t have.” She tore it open, eyes widening. Holding up the bluish white four centimeter orb, her smile turned to laughter. She leapt up and hurried to Brian’s office. “Look, cousin. Look what Mister Irish brought me!”

  He hesitantly followed her into the office, wondering what he’d done wrong this time. “Um, hi. Everything okay?” He paused, mouth open. Bernadette had placed the orb in front of Brian, who was gasping for air in between whoops of laughter.

  Irish was opening his mouth when Bernadette stepped close and gave him a hug. “I’ll talk to you later about this,” she said, a sparkle in her eye when releasing him. “Right now, Brian has something he’d like to tell you.” She fled from the room, leaving him more confused.

  By now Brian had regained control of himself. “Sit down, man. You look like a fish out of water.”

  He complied, looking over his shoulder while he did. “Apparently that wasn’t just a pretty rock I brought her, was it?”

  Brian touched the orb and chuckled. “Oh my, no. It’s what a woman gives a man when she becomes pregnant. The hormones in her body cause the stone to turn pure white. It’s called a Beltane Stone.”

  “Well, Hell,” Irish muttered, feeling laughter well up. “At least we know I’m not pregnant.”

  After the laughter finally died away, Brian sobered. “I’m thankful for your trip to Murray’s Rest. The live feed you sent back of your interview with the children exonerated the freedom fighters completely. In fact, the Legs and Alliance are somewhat on the defensive at the moment. How about the rest of the trip?”

  “Before we got away from the area, an Alliance air patrol spotted the cabin where the kids were. Had to take care of that before moving them to the town of Gaston.”

  Brian picked up the sphere again. “How’d you come up with this?”

  “We delivered one of the kids we saved to their aunt and uncle in Gaston. They owned a curio shop and this was on display. Thought it’d look nice on Bernadette’s desk, so I bought it. Now I know why the proprietor was giving me such a funny look.”

  “Surprised you hadn’t heard of ‘em before. One of our biggest imports far as jewelry is concerned.” He tossed it to Irish. “The only other news that impacts you is something we talked about in regards to your sister. I had her arrested along with ten others. We’ll be holding them for the duration of the war, and turning them over to the Carrow district once peace is restored. Sorry to tell you that.”

  Irish shook his head, frustration setting in. “Wish there’d been some way I could have gotten through to her.”

  “Don’t fret yourself, man,” Brian said. “Like you said before, when she watched your folks being killed it unhinged her. With any luck we can eventually do something to help.”

  “Hope you’re right.” He took a breath, shaking himself. “What’s the latest concerning the Alliance and the troops they’re landing?”

  “Not good, not good at all,” Brian said. “The troops are down, and their equipment is on its way. However, on the bright side, the entire countryside of both continents is in an uproar. The Legs and Alliance troops already in place have been experiencing discomfort from all the incidents that’re happening. A good example is how roadblocks on Burunda are being overrun unless there’s at least a platoon’s worth of troops at each one.”

  “From what I’ve heard, the sniper teams are doing pretty well, too,” Irish said with a smile. “There were ten teams out while I went on the mission to Galway. We should have at least twenty available now.”

  “That’s good news. Will there be more in the near future?”

  “Fifty teams total within two weeks, probably more,” Irish said, eyes lighting. “They may not be the best trained troops you’ve seen, but they can shoot the eyes out of a Leg at three hundred meters.”

  Brian leaned his elbows on the table. “I think we need to make sure their missions are tied in with our other forces. If we were able to start trimming back on their leadership it would be most helpful.”

  He lifted his head. “Bernie, could you get my planning team in here? Oh, and also ask Mister Two Eagles to join us.”

  2nd OF THE FIRST BATTALION HEADQUARTERS NEAR CITY OF GALWAY (Day +73)

  Major Vogel stared at the top of his desk, stomach churning over the call he’d just gotten from the Regimental Commander. The mission to Murray’s Rest had turned from success to disaster, all because he’d failed to remove all the inhabitants when his men burnt the place down. He’d known at the time the children had gotten away. Why hadn’t he gone after them? He shook his head. Getting soft.

  His desk comm buzzed. “Sir, you have a call from Lieutenant Wolfe.”

  He straightened. Wolfe? Oh, yes. The officer in charge of air patrols. He touched his comm. “Major Vogel here.”

  “Sir, I’ve found the missing patrol that was reported last night. They were all killed. I think you need to see the site of the ambush. Something disquieting has surfaced.”

  “Such as what, Lieutenant?”

  “The wounds on all the bodies are from weapons not normally used by the rebels. Looks like needlers were used, Sir.”

  “On my way.” Vogel jumped up and hurried from his office, pausing long enough to snatch up his weapons. “Corporal Feltz, I need transport down to Lieutenant Wolfe’s location. Now.”

  Vogel commandeered the co-pilot’s seat and focused on the forest and grasslands they flew over, especially after passing the burnt out remains of Murray’s Rest. Low hills, mostly trees–not much of interest.

  The pilot pointed. “Approaching them now Major.”

  A small clearing in the forest with a stream winding through it appeared ahead. “Take us twice around them,” ordered Vogel. “And keep it slow, will you?”

  Once on the ground, Vogel was greeted by a thin young officer. “Welcome, Major.” He indicated the other shuttle. “This way, Sir.”

  Vogel nodded in approval when he approached the scene of death. All the bodies had been left in position. He bent down, examining the first they came to. “You were right, Lieutenant. Needlers did this.”

  A slow pivot while he scrutinized the surrounding area, and he shook his head. “I don’t think this is the scene of the ambush. Can’t prove otherwise, but it doesn’t feel right.”

  “The last call we got from them said they were going to investigate a light they’d seen. Unfortunately, they didn’t give their coordinates. Probably wanted to make sure it wasn’t a false alarm before letting us know. Not proper procedur
e, but some of the patrols have been doing it because they get chewed out for too many bogus calls.”

  After a close inspection of each body, Vogel nodded. All killed by needler fire. Which meant at least a squad, maybe a platoon of Long Range Scouts were on planet. He straightened from a last inspection and started towards his shuttle. “Thank you for the call, Lieutenant. Good eye on spotting the difference in the type of ammunition used.”

  “My pleasure, sir. Can we clean up the site now?”

  “Yes. Just send your report through normal channels, would you?” He trotted up the ramp, the Lieutenant already forgotten. He raised his voice. “Let’s head for home!”

  By the time Vogel entered his office, the beginnings of a plan had formed. Put out a call for snipers, and get them reassigned into a team under his leadership. Then, once the Battalion Commander was back in the saddle, he’d go hunting. He touched his right eye. Didn’t have the ability to take down a target at long range anymore, not since the wound that had come so close to killing him. But he knew how to lead a sniper team, and his sneak’n peek skills were still top notch.

  He relaxed at his desk, and touched the comm. “Corporal Feltz, please put in a call to the Regiment’s personnel officer, would you?”

  * * *

  General Howell stood at the window of his office, looking out at the beautiful day. Since moving the Legislaturist militia base to Mauldin Heights, his office now overlooked a stretch of the Bann River. It flowed from the northwest and through the heart of Galway, eight kilometers from here.

  His lips pursed in disapproval when he looked left, at what he considered an eyesore 12 kilometers away. A huge gash had been cut through the virgin forest, dozens of block buildings taking its place. Since it had been an agreement between President Kendall and the Alliance Commander to build the Alliance Division’s barracks at that location, he’d had little or no say in the matter. Even when they’d turned it into more of a fort than agreed upon. He sighed, rubbing his balding head.

  His desk comm chimed. “Sir, General Lawry is here.”

  After a glance towards the small conference table to ensure everything was ready, he touched his comm. “Send him in.” He stepped around his desk, hand outstretched as the Alliance’s Forty-First Division Commander walked in. “General, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Has the landing of your troops gone well?”