by C. R. Daems
I wanted to get up but couldn't seem to get my muscles to cooperate. Finally, I got my mouth working.
"What's our status?" I asked wanting to know but at the same time not wanting to know. I could just lay here and pretend everyone had survived. It seemed like hours passed before Smitty knelt beside me with Peppermint.
"Two with serious wounds, four with less serious wounds, which includes you, three with minor wounds…and one dead–Firebird," Peppermint said just above a whisper.
"That was a good call, Fox," Mamba said, looking down at me. "I thought it crazy at the time, but it was what we were trained to do. Half of us would be dead if we had tried to shoot it out with them. We're all going to miss our brother, Firebird, but he died in the best Tasmanian tradition. You made the right call, Jolie, we all felt it as we rose out of the jungle like wraiths of death."
"Truly a Ghost Platoon, Jolie," Smitty said as Peppermint jabbed me with a needle that mercifully turned my world black.
* * *
Camp #1 took eight days to reach. Peppermint arranged for a drone to drop medical supplies as several of the injuries required additional medication, bandages, and equipment. Fortunately, no one else died, although without the drone drop, Taipan and Spiderman might not have made it. Peppermint and Salamander had insisted we wait until Taipan and Spiderman could walk, and afterward that we stop after three to four hours’ walking each day. I had to admit, I was thankful each day when we stopped early. One bullet had torn a hole in my thigh and the other cracked a rib, which was lucky as it deflected the metal from hitting important organs.
While we recuperated at camp #1, I sent Howard a message.
Professor, we are recuperating from a surprise encounter with thirty-two of Nuranjo's troops from camp #1. Whoever was in charge decided or was ordered to march down to Bapoto and kill the woman and men from Delphi. We met them on the jungle trail halfway between the two villages. We are pretty beat up, one dead, so I intend to rest at camp #1 until you need us or Nuranjo shows up. Fox.
Howard responded almost immediately.
Fox, Nuranjo may well show up. We are going to search the area you indicated we might find camp #2. If we find it, he and some of his fighters could escape. So, be careful. Howard.
I laughed to myself. Talk about bluster. In our current condition, we would have trouble defending nuts from a family of pygmy squirrels.
"Tasmanians, I need a conference," I shouted, and slowly the eight wandered or limped over to me and sat. "You're a sad looking bunch of Tasmanians."
"At least we managed to walk over to you. You don't look like you could walk that far," Wolf said.
"How would it look if the boss had to walk over to you?" I said, fists on my hips with the proper look of indignation.
"Like an old woman who should be retired, judging by the sight of you," Bulldog said. That got laughs and everyone clapped.
"Alright, we all look and feel like roadkill. So, the question is how do we kill Nuranjo when he arrives?" I asked and received open-mouth stares. "Howard is searching where we were told Nuranjo's camp #2 was located. When he finds it, unless the space gods are asleep, Nuranjo and some number of youths are going to get away and head…guess where?"
"Here!" everyone shouted.
"Right, because no one told him he no longer owns his swamp-side resort," I said looking indignant again. "So, how do we get a few hours' notice, and since we aren't in a condition to run, how do we live through the experience?"
"We can work on the few hours' notice," Smitty said, "while you work on the 'living through the experience' part."
That got another round of clapping. I clapped too, which quickly stopped their smiling.
"Well, at least I got you to do something," I grinned.
* * *
I estimated we might have as little as three days to as many as ten days to prepare, depending on how quick Howard could locate their camp. DAMN, I swore, Nuranjo could decide not to fight and bring the entire camp. I saw Wolf and waved him over.
"What do you want, Jolie?" he asked as he neared. "Need help with your problem?"
"Actually, yes. I need a drone to drop us all the plastic explosives they have," I said, hoping they had a truckload. "And tell them we need it today and to ship what they have available immediately rather than wait until they have it all together."
"The boys and I thought we could take them on hand-to-hand," Wolf quipped.
"A hundred?" I asked, frowning.
"We were thinking ten or so. You didn't hear me say it, but the boys are a little tired." He smiled, turned and ran off. Me too, I thought.
To my surprise, the first of four drone drops delivered a fifty-centimeter square package seven hours later.
"Smitty, your specialty is finally going to be useful," I said, invoking the memory of Firebird whose specialty was also explosives. "I want you to design a killing field for Nuranjo and his friends."
"You have an explosive specialty." He grinned.
"Yes, so I'll watch. It will be good training for me," I said. "I'm concerned that Nuranjo may choose not to engage Howard and come here with his hundred-plus militia planning to join with the group here before taking a stand against Howard."
"What about us?" Bulldog asked.
"I'm hoping he considers us dead or lost or in some village looking for him," I said. "And with a hundred-plus fighters, he wouldn't be worried about running into us on the way here. I know my brothers are ready for another hand-to-hand fight, but your sister isn't."
"Okay, for your sake, we'll use the plastic they sent," Smitty said, taking out one of the plastic-wrapped orange cakes from the box. "Good, I prefer Semtex to C4. It has a bigger punch. If they send more, we could put charges all around this camp and make Nuranjo and his band of killers go poof."
"That assumes they are all in this area and he doesn't send twenty or thirty to another village, or see that this one is empty when he's expecting troops here and doesn't enter, or…" I said, envisioning worse case and our great trap not surviving contact with the enemy. Our last encounter was a good example of what happens when inexperienced youth panic and their fingers get stuck on their triggers. I could just imagine thirty or forty spraying the jungle. They would kill every living thing including the ants. I cringed at the thought. "I thought we might use small charges to herd them into a killing zone."
"That's diabolical. No wonder you got Fox as a call-sign." He shook his head. "I'm glad you're on our side."
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Planet Dodoma: Howard
"I don't know how she does it," Howard said looking down at his TCom at the message Jolie had just sent.
Professor, we are recuperating from a surprise encounter with thirty-two of Nuranjo's troops from camp #1. Whoever was in charge decided or was ordered to march down to Bapoto and kill the woman and men from Delphi. We met them on the jungle trail halfway between the two villages. We are pretty beat up, one dead, so I intend to rest at camp #1 until you need us or Nuranjo shows up. Fox.
"We haven't encountered one Nuranjo gang member, and the Ghost Platoon has killed over seventy, captured one of his camps, knows he has a second camp, and that we are likely to scare him into going to his other camp," Howard said while looking at his platoon leaders.
"Not too surprising. She gave us Nuranjo's spy-guide, so she was a ghost. Thanks to our guide, Nuranjo not only knows where we are but also where we are going next," Gonzales said with a snort.
"Meaning he can pick the time and place to attack us, or he can choose to abandon camp #2 and flee to camp #1. Our platoon there won't survive."
"I like Fox's suggestion: shoot the guide and take the cell phones from the camp spies," Tang said, pointing a finger-like gun at Owiti. "Bang. Then maybe we can surprise Nuranjo at camp #2."
"I wouldn't underestimate Fox. Some of our brothers may rush to doing things that are suicidal, but Fox thinks before she acts. She will have something prepared just in case Nuranjo does come. Of cou
rse, that doesn't mean they will survive the encounter," Howard said. "And the demise of the Ghost Platoon would be a tragic loss. She's managed to pull together nine of the best Tasmanians in the battalion, and she has a unique talent for finding our opponents’ weaknesses and disrupting their operations. Like now. She's caused Nuranjo more trouble with nine men than we have with ninety."
"The problem is that her platoon is not fully functional if she has seriously wounded and is one man short," Harman said, frowning with concern.
"I'd like to split the company, but if Nuranjo does decide to take us on with well over a hundred fighters, he could overrun one platoon on its own. We, the Tasmanians, can't afford to lose a thirty-man platoon." Howard laughed. "I swear I'm going to take Jolie's Vanquishing Fear course when I get back. If she were here, she would sit down and close her eyes, and when they opened, she would have the best option. Whereas I'm frozen with indecision because I can't separate the various scenarios from the consequences," Howard said and stood quiet for a long time. "Tang, have someone discreetly watch Owiti. I've made my decision." Howard stood watching Tang who nodded and walked back to his platoon area. Howard scanned the area, found Owiti not to far away, and waved for him to come over.
"Owiti, I want to go to Bapoto. What is the best way there?" Howard asked. Owiti stood for a while, rubbing his chin before answering.
"I thought you wanted to find Nuranjo?"
"Do you know where he is?'
"No, Commander Howard. He's like a ghost. Could be anywhere. He has spies everywhere, so he's impossible to find," Owiti said, looking sincere, which of course he was. He was a spy, and each camp had a spy, so they were everywhere. And he probably didn't know where Nuranjo was since Howard doubted the man would trust anyone with that information.
"My people in Bapoto may know. So, what is the shortest way to get there and how long will it take?" Howard asked, putting a bite of impatience in his words.
Owiti picked up a stick and drew a small circle in the dirt. "We are here," he said. "The closest village is Atieno to the southwest about sixteen to eighteen hours’ walk." He drew another circle directly south. "That is Gugu, about eight to ten hours away. From there, we go west to Bapoto, maybe ten hours."
"Why can't we go directly from Atieno to Bapoto? It appears to the west of Atieno," Howard asked looking at Owiti's drawing.
"No good trail. Take twice as long, maybe longer."
"Okay. We leave tomorrow morning at dawn," Howard said. He turned and walked back to the Tasmanian camp area, hoping he wasn't drawing Nuranjo to Atieno for an ambush. If he was, it could result in the two armies meeting in the jungle, and that would be a disaster. It would negate the Tasmanians training and be like fighting blindfolded.
"What now?" Harman asked.
"We wait for Owiti to tell Nuranjo we are leaving for Atieno in the morning. Tomorrow morning, we leave as planned. Twenty minutes into the jungle, we shoot Owiti and turn north and double-time to find camp #2."
* * *
They left the next morning at daybreak on the trail Owiti indicated. Howard had been informed that Owiti had been on his cell typing shortly after his discussion with him.
"Halt," Howard called about an hour later. "Owiti, your cell phone, please."
"Why?" he asked, clearly nervous. "It has personal information on it that has nothing to do with our agreement."
"We know you're in communications with Nuranjo. Your phone." He held out his hand. Owiti immediately moved his hand with the phone behind him. "And I'd like to know the exact location of camp #2."
"I don't know anything about Nuranjo's location or the whereabouts of his camps," Owiti said, his voice rising as he spoke. Just then, Tang appeared with his Jericho drawn and pointing at Owiti's leg.
"This is going to hurt, and you are going to give up your phone anyway," Tang said in a conversational tone. Owiti finally handed it to Howard, who immediately opened it and began reviewing the text messages.
"I had no choice. He would kill my family if I didn't," he pleaded, his eyes moist with fear.
"Lead us to camp #2 and you will live to see your family," Tang said, moving the weapon to point at Owiti's head.
"I don't know where it is," he shrieked.
"Too bad. We can't let you go, and you are useless to us."
"I think it may be north and west of the Rehema village. I help find." There was excitement in his voice as if his death sentence had been pardoned.
"How long to the Rehema village?" Howard asked.
"Nine hours if we fast."
"You have twelve hours to find it or we will find it without you," Howard said leaving no doubt he meant Owiti would be dead if he failed to find camp #2 by then.
"I find, I find."
"Garrick, you take Owiti and set a Tasmanian pace. Nuranjo thinks we are going to the Atieno village and then on to Bapoto. If he is any good, he will want to collect his troops at camp #1 and hit us on the trail to Bapoto or when we arrive. With a surprise attack and traps, he might think he could win."
Garrick nodded and grabbed Owiti by the arm and pointed north. Owiti began a slow run as Garrick followed behind him. Howard spread the three platoons a half klick apart—close enough to support each other but far enough to avoid a total surprise to the company. They kept a grueling pace that had Owiti sweating and panting even though he had no equipment to carry.
They reached Rehema seven hours later but didn't stop. Three hours later, Garrick signaled a stop.
"There is a large clearing ahead, but it appears empty," Garrick said when he joined the platoon leaders.
"Harman, send several scouts to the left; Tang, several to the right; and Gonzales, several into the camp," Howard said, feeling sure it wasn't a trap. Nuranjo was taking the most logical option, consolidating his forces for a strike against the Delphi troops. Fifteen minutes later, the scouts were back.
"It's empty. The fire pits are still warm. They left less than four hours ago," Garrick said.
"Owiti, how far to a point six hours north of Bapoto?" Howard asked, caught in a conundrum. Catching up with Nuranjo on the trail could result in a cluster-fuck as the youths would have their weapons on automatic, and the resulting thousands of bullets generated by a firefight would result in a large number of Tasmanians wounded and dead. On the other hand, if he let Nuranjo beat him to camp #1, the Ghost Platoon would be unlikely to survive for the same reason. The ideal solution would be to arrive just after Nuranjo and his troops arrived and encountered whatever traps Luan had arranged for them.
"Twenty hours at normal pace, maybe sixteen fast. Nuranjo will have to stop for six to eight hours," Owiti said after several minutes’ thought. "Youth might make it without sleep but not fit to fight. Nuranjo couldn't."
"Okay, six hours’ rest. That will put us ten hours behind them. I'm hoping they will rest for eight hours and take two hours longer to make the trip because we are going to make camp #1 in sixteen hours nonstop," Howard said. "In the ideal, I'd like to arrive as the Ghost Platoon springs their trap. He then typed a short message to Jolie.
Fox, Nuranjo is heading to camp #1 with all his troops from camp #2. Could be one hundred plus. We estimate he will arrive in as early as twenty hours. We will try to arrive within minutes of his arrival. Professor.
She replied immediately.
Professor, we are tired, but we will try to give him a welcome fitting a monarch. Fox.
Howard laughed. He showed her response to the platoon leaders.
"I don't know what nine Tasmanians are going to do against over a hundred troops with automatic weapons, but I don't think I would like to be in Nuranjo's shoes," Tang said to nodding heads.
* * *
Howard and the troops left six hours later. He knew Owiti wouldn't last the sixteen-hour run but felt they could leave him when he dropped from exhaustion. He would be too far from a village to get a phone, too weak to get to a village without a rest, and by that time, it would be over.
"If
they stopped halfway and rested for eight hours, we must be only five hours behind them, and they have a ten-hour march to camp #1.
Five hours later, they found Nuranjo's rest stop, and an additional five hours later, Garrick passed word back that they had caught up with Nuranjo's army. Howard then assembled the platoon leaders.
"I want to remain a klick behind Nuranjo's troops and to maintain company silence. If we are discovered, it could be a disaster if Nuranjo chooses to fight, which I would if I were him. We have to hope the Ghost Platoon distracts him enough for us to make our entrance a surprise."
Five hours later, Howard heard the first explosion and waved to attack. That had ninety-four Tasmanians moving at a ground-eating run toward camp #1.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Planet Dodoma: Camp #1
"If there are over one hundred troops headed our way, they will be on the trail leading here and will stretch back over two hundred meters," I said after opening my eyes. I don't know how long I had been meditating, but I had a clear picture in my mind. "I think two bombs. One at two hundred meters the other at one ninety. The one at two hundred goes first then five seconds later, the second one explodes."
"That will force the troops forward but off the trail," Smitty said, frowning and shaking his head in disapproval.
"True. But we plant bombs beginning ten meters ahead on both sides every ten meters at say thirty degrees and explode one on each side every five seconds," I said drawing the picture in the dirt.
"Keeping them from running into the jungle…"
"Right. Then two bombs say five meters apart running up the trail towards the camp, spaced ten meters apart," I said.
"Forcing them to flee into the camp where…boom!" Smitty said and smiled.
"And I want three trenches dug about fifty meters from the edge of the camp clearing for us to shoot from," I finished, hoping that would be enough to survive.
"That's devious. Did I teach you that in my demolitions class?" He laughed, then continued. "We blow up the few people on the path at the end of the line. They will naturally leave the path seeking safety in the jungle only to find it also has bombs, so they run back only to find the trail has bombs that are walking up the trail. Having nowhere to go except forward, the survivors head for the camp where bombs and snipers wait." He clapped and gave a small bow. "I like it. Let's get everyone that's fit to start digging."
