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Authors: Phillip Richards

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The mood suddenly
turned sombre. We all knew what the boss meant. We would sit back and watch as
the Guard systematically rounded up and killed all the people it saw to be
traitors, guilty of nothing more than trying to survive.

‘Does anybody have
any further questions before I call in our “friends”?’ Mr Barkley looked around
at us all, but there were none. We knew what we had to do.

The platoon commander
sent a messenger to collect the liaison officers, of which there were now only
two, including Yulia. It didn’t take long for them to arrive, regarding us
warily as they joined the huddle around the hologram. The atmosphere
immediately turned icy as the two guardsmen joined us, and I could almost feel
the other commanders wondering why we were still working with them.

‘And then there were
two …’ Corporal Abdi whispered.

Yulia caught my eye
briefly as she knelt next to me, before turning her attention down toward the
image of Dakar.

‘I trust you’ve all
had a good sleep?’ Mr Barkley asked with a friendly smile.

‘We have slept,’
Yulia responded coldly.

Liar, I thought, my
eyes burning into the side of her helmet, you haven’t slept, you’ve been up
discussing how to fuck up our plan, and how to kill us when the time is right.

‘I’ve summoned
everyone here for orders,’ he said, oblivious to the tone in Yulia’s voice. ‘Are
you happy for me to begin?’

The two guardsmen
nodded.

‘Good. Listen in for
a set of orders for our assault into Dakar …’

We listened as the
platoon commander went through his plan again, this time in fine detail. We all
knew that it had to appear as though we hadn’t already discussed the operation,
and that nothing had changed in our perception of the Guard.

He explained how we
would approach the city that night from the southwest, crossing the river a few
kilometres downstream before stealthily moving through a swamp until we reached
our objective just before daybreak.

Nobody groaned when
we heard that the route involved crossing large stretches of water and
swampland. We were trained to carry out such tasks, not that we could complain
anyway, because unlike in regular dropship units, our route in had been found
and recommended by our own sections. Recces conducted by the sections over the
past two days had concluded that the swamp was the best approach. It would be a
thoroughly unpleasant route, taking us many hours to cover a relatively short
distance, but it was necessary to sneak past the Loyalist positions. A large
force could never make it through the swamp undetected, but a single platoon of
recce troopers could manage it.

‘It is a good route,’
Yulia nodded approvingly. ‘Our spies have all said that the Loyalists have
little defences out in the swamp. They don’t think that the FEA could do it
without being caught.’

‘They couldn’t,’
Corporal Abdi replied brusquely, and the sergeant major shot him an angry
glance.

Yulia didn’t appear
to notice. ‘No. I do not think so either.’

I noticed as Mr
Barkley went on that he made no mention of our move onto the city roof, so that
Yulia and the other liaison officer couldn’t tell their superiors. We wanted
for them to think that we were merely doing what they wanted - destroying the
city air defence and then withdrawing. We didn’t want for them to know that we
would then press on with the assault, helping the FEA to take Dakar before they
could arrive.

After delivering his
orders, Mr Barkley turned to the two liaison officers. ‘I would like to keep
one of you attached to my multiple, and the other working with the sergeant major.
I take it you have no quarrel with that?’

All eyes switched to
Yulia, who was first to speak. ‘No, that is good. We have information gathered
by our spies which may be of use as you move through the swamp. I would like to
be kept forward as much as is possible.’

Mr Barkley smiled
broadly, hiding the resentment we all felt for working with the two guardsmen.
‘I will do my best.’

After the platoon
commander was finished, we listened to the sergeant major gave his final spin
on the upcoming operation, focusing on the administration of our sections -
water, ammunition and rations. In particular he reminded us of the casualty
evacuation procedure, and the importance of treating any injured trooper and
getting him out as quickly as possible.

‘You take a casualty,
win the fire fight first, and then get him out of harm’s way as soon as
possible. Be aware that in order to evacuate any casualty we need to call in a
dropship from Paraiso, and so the speed at which I can arrange that extraction
will be slow - between forty minutes and several hours depending on the
severity. Bear that in mind. Take good care of him and keep a keen eye on his
vital readings, because he may be waiting around for a while. Understand?’

We nodded. We all
knew that our job was risky when we first joined the platoon, but took comfort
in knowing that the sergeant major would do his best for us if we were injured.
It was more than could be said for the poor kids fighting in the FEA units.

The platoon commander
quickly summarised his orders before allowing us to return to our sections,
waking them from their slumber so they could prepare for the attack. It didn’t
take me long to have my men fully briefed and ready to go, although they had
barely got into their thermal bags when I found them.

As I had expected,
they took the news that we were still working with the Guard badly, grumbling
at the prospect of seeing Yulia again.

‘This is a fucking
joke,’ Skelton complained - to murmured agreement - ‘we should just put one
between her eyes and be done with it.’

I regarded the weary
faces of my section. I couldn’t blame them for being angry. They had seen what
the Guard were capable of - atrocities far worse than any of them had seen
before - and to make it worse they had attempted to kill us to try to stop us
from finding out. It was deplorable asking them to continue fighting alongside
the Guard, but that was exactly what I was doing.

‘I don’t know what to
say, lads,’ I said finally, ‘I know you don’t agree with what we’re doing, and
frankly neither do I, but we’ve got to do it. We don’t have a choice. All I can
say is, let’s just get this done. Keep an eye out for each other, watch your backs,
and let’s try to get out of here in one piece.’

As soon as I was
finished I ordered them to go back into hard routine, ensuring that everyone
had a chance to have plenty of sleep prior to our night-long march toward
Dakar.

I watched as my
section went back into routine, some of them wriggling into their bags, while
others sat up and observed the trees, watching for danger until it was their
own turn to rest.

‘You want some head-down?’
Puppy offered as I turned to leave. During hard routine one of us two had to
remain up at all times, ready to command the section in the event of attack.

‘You go first, mate,’
I replied. I was tired, but I didn’t want to sleep.

The section 2ic
looked concerned. ‘Are you sure, mate? You haven’t slept for a while …’

‘I’m fine,’ I
snapped, surprising both of us. I paused to collect myself before speaking
again. ‘I need to study my map - I’m not familiar with the ground.’

I couldn’t bear the
thought of sleeping, not after all I had seen in the past few days. Even during
the day, the vivid images of murdered civilians loomed in the back of my mind,
threatening to consume me as soon as I shut my eyes. But I was also too tired
to sleep.

He hesitated for a
moment, and then nodded. ‘Fair enough.’

 

I wandered away from
the section, finding a quiet spot amongst the ferns to sit and soak up the
information on my map. I stared at my datapad for a few minutes, aimlessly
moving the map around with my finger. I couldn’t absorb the information, I
could see it, but there was something on my mind that made it near impossible
to focus.

I sighed, lowering my
head and placing my visor in my hands.

How could we play a
part in something so awful? We were no better than the Guard, or the Loyalists.
Like the FEA, we were just mindlessly following a plan decided by someone else,
someone who didn’t care how many innocent people died just as long as the
outcome was favourable. The Union didn’t care about the people of Eden, it
simply wanted to retain power, and it knew that the only way to hold on to the
planet was by keeping the Alliance on side.

My section were
hurting, they had almost lost a friend to the Loyalists, and now they were
threatened by an enemy working within our own platoon, fighting a war without
any sense of morality. But it wasn’t just they who were hurting. I was in just
as much pain, and I couldn’t bear it.

A twig cracked behind
me, and I grasped my rifle instinctively, spinning around to confront the
threat.

Yulia held up her
hands. ‘It is only me, Andy.’

My rifle remained
steady, aimed at her chest.

Only you? Oh,
that’s alright then.

My eyes narrowed. ‘What
do you want?’

Ignoring my rifle and
the sharp tone in my voice, Yulia took off her daysack and sat down beside me.
I bristled at the proximity of the woman I believed to have ordered my
execution.

‘I have asked to
return to your section for the attack,’ she announced. ‘My comrade will be with
the sergeant major.’

‘Corporal Abdi may
need your help as well,’ I replied bluntly.

‘Yes, but I will
remain with you unless I am required somewhere else. You have only seven
soldiers …’

‘Troopers,’ I
corrected.

‘Yes … you have only
seven troopers, so I will be of use to you.’

Like a hole in the
head
.

Damn the platoon
commander, what was he thinking? I suppose he figured that I knew Yulia better
than the others, and so would be better suited to keeping an eye on her. I
sighed.

She cocked her head.
‘Are you OK, Andy?’

‘I’m fine,’ I blurted
angrily. ‘I just want to get this whole thing done.’

‘Then you will go
home to your family?’

I turned my head up
to the heavens.
My family
. I hadn’t seen them for so long I doubted they
would even recognise me anymore.

‘Maybe one day.’

‘You should. I wish
that I had a family to return to.’

Why do you have no
family? Did you have them executed too?

‘My family died
during the war,’ Yulia continued sadly. ‘They were killed during the Union
bombardment of Edo.’

I found it difficult
to feel any sympathy for the Guard captain. She was part of a murderous
organization that ruled over its people by fear and intimidation, and whatever
her past, it changed nothing.

You lost your
family, Yulia? Aww, my heart breaks for you!

‘You are busy,’ she said
after a few moments silence, detecting my hostility. ‘Make sure that I am woken
when it is time to go.’

She stood, returning
her daysack to her back. ‘Not everyone in the Guard is as bad as you think.’

‘I’ll bear that in
mind,’ I answered gruffly.

I would have to watch
her like a hawk, I told myself as she disappeared back into the undergrowth.
There was no telling what she might do when we suddenly changed our plan and
charged toward the city. Would she order another gang of guardsmen to kill us,
or would she attempt to do it herself? The platoon commander made a huge
understatement when he said that the operation had turned ‘messy’ - it was far
beyond that. The enemy weren’t just in Dakar; one of them was now within my own
section.

 

Back to the contents page

 

 

 

The Burrows

 

We emerged out of the
mist like spectres, slowly wading out of the cold water and onto dry land.
Careful not to make any noise, I moved in amongst the trees and lay down in a
fire position, ready to repel an attack from any Loyalists unfortunate enough
to stumble upon us. One by one the section followed, taking up their positions
until we formed a semi-circle formation up against the bank. Yulia copied us,
taking up a position within the formation. I glanced left and right of me,
seeing the other sections slip out of the swamp to do the same.

Puppy approached from
the shadows, leaning right over me to whisper, ‘All in.’

I nodded in
acknowledgement, and he moved back into the darkness.

Nobody moved. We lay
there on the edge of the swamp in total silence, accompanied only by the sound
of a cold breeze moving the trees around us. We listened out for any sign of
enemy activity, just in case they had noticed us moving through the water.
According to previous recces, and Yulia’s spies, the marsh was poorly defended,
but we weren’t going to take any chances. The Loyalist defensive layout could
change, and none of us trusted Yulia further than we could throw her.

The wind seemed to
penetrate through the fabric of my soaking wet combats, ripping the heat out of
my body. I shivered in the cold, watching the seconds on my visor display
slowly tick away.

Five minutes passed
before the Mr Barkley gave the signal to prepare to move. Normally he might
allow time for the platoon to change into dry kit, but we had a deadline to
meet, and we would soon forget about our wet combats when the fighting started.

I checked the map on
my datapad, studying the route that had been given to me during the platoon
commander’s orders. We were exactly where we wanted to be, with the first
predicted enemy position four hundred metres to my northeast.

Myers closed in to
me, having activated his scanner.

‘Ready?’ I asked him
quietly, and he nodded. ‘Good. Let’s get going.’

We stalked through
the undergrowth, following the route laid out by the previous recce in order to
avoid the enemy defences. Keeping the butt of my rifle pressed firmly into my
shoulder, I swept my arcs with my finger resting over the power up button. I
didn’t like moving with all of my equipment switched off, but it was necessary in
order to get close to the first position. The Loyalists wouldn’t be expecting
an attack behind their front line, but they weren’t idiots - they would be
listening out for us.

Myers patrolled just
ahead of me, slowly creeping through the ferns without making a sound. Every
step he took was slow and deliberate, gently applying pressure with each boot
as he checked for any fallen twigs or other vegetation that could snap noisily.
I allowed for him to take his time. The scanner he carried in his daysack was
our only defence against Loyalist sensors, and there were bound to be some
somewhere. Smaller pieces of equipment like sensors were far more difficult to
detect, even with our advanced scanner. It wouldn’t work if we rushed.

Visibility reduced
even more as the mist thickened, forcing us to decrease the distance between
each other to little more than five metres. With our platoon and section net
deactivated, it would be difficult to link back up if somebody became
separated. I turned around to check that Skelton was still behind me, seeing
his ghostly figure following close behind in the gloomy mist.

Suddenly Myers froze.
His hand quickly raised above his head, motioning for us to stop.

His scanner had
detected something. We waited, frozen like statues, watching him nervously as
he studied information only he could see on his visor display.

I crept up to him,
just as he slowly lowered to one knee. I knelt beside him, leaning right over
to his headset earpiece.

‘What?’ I whispered.

‘Reading,’ he breathed,
pointing off to our left. ‘One there, one to our right, and one in front.’

‘Sensors?’

He was quiet for a
moment. ‘I think the two either side are … they’re very small readings.’

I nodded slowly,
scanning the mist for any sign of enemy presence, but there was nothing to
suggest that there was a Loyalist position in front of us.

Thank God for the
scanner, I thought. Without it, we would have walked to our deaths. Not that we
would have been alive for the operation on Dakar anyway - our scanner had
already kept us alive once.

Sensors were good
bits of kit for defensive positions, covering arcs that a single pair of human
eyes couldn’t, but they could be double-edged weapons when used against modern
electronic warfare equipment. Fortunately for us, the scanner Myers carried was
state-of-the-art - so new that only a few units in the Union army carried one.
Instead of providing early warning of a hapless patrol, the sensors placed out
by the Loyalists merely told us where they were.

I nodded forward. ‘What
about the reading to our front?’

Myers didn’t respond
straight away. He waved his arm about, pointing his finger and drawing lines in
the air as he navigated the menu on his visor. ‘It’s bigger. Possibly a
weapon.’

‘Automated gun?’

He shrugged. ‘Not
sure. It looks like a weapon, but I couldn’t tell you what.’

I looked back and
beckoned to Yulia, who crouched just beside Myers. ‘Let’s see what our
ally
thinks.’

Myers blinked. ‘You
think we can trust her?’

I watched her as she
silently negotiated through the undergrowth toward us. ‘I don’t know. It’s hard
to trust anybody you don’t know these days.’

Yulia joined us as
Myers resumed waving his arms, trying to decipher the information provided by
his scanner.

‘You have found
them?’

I ignored her
question, and asked instead, ‘Do they have automated guns here?’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Robotic weapons,
auto-turrets …’

Yulia shook her head.
‘Not here. They have them placed in the middle of their main defence screen,
and in re-entrants to the east where their own positions can’t guard.’

‘You’re sure?’

She frowned. ‘Yes, I
am sure. Our spies have watched them for days, we know their positions and they
have not changed.’

I studied her for a
second, and then finally nodded. ‘OK. So we have one slightly larger reading
directly ahead of us …’

‘It is one of their bunkers,’
she interrupted. ‘There are three of them on this side, twenty metres apart.
Two men are in each one. The sensors and automated guns are connected to them
by optical cable.’

‘Myers?’

The young trooper
paused to think, and then said, ‘That would make sense from what I can see. The
reading could be two weapons, powered down, maybe a few computer screens …’

‘How are they
constructed?’ I asked Yulia.

‘They are dug in and
fortified with sandbags,’ Yulia replied. ‘They have overhead cover, but they
have large openings to fire their weapons through.’

I considered my
options, thinking about how best to deal with the situation. Ideally I would
want to get eyes onto the position, and maybe find a way of sneaking right up
to it, but with the enemy sensors threatening us with discovery, it would be risky
and would cost us dearly in time – and time was something we did not had in
short supply. H-hour was a few minutes away, and not long after that the first
wave of FEA dropships would sweep into the area.

I looked back to
Skelton again and patted my arm with a single finger -
2ic
. I then
patted my helmet -
on me.

He nodded his
understanding, and passed the hand signal back. Seconds later Puppy’s
unmistakable shadow emerged out of the mist; he had been expecting my call.

I pointed my thumb
downwards and indicated the direction of the enemy, and he nodded as he joined
the growing party at the front of the section.

‘What’s the plan?’ he
whispered. ‘We haven’t got much time …’

‘No shit,’ I replied
irritably. ‘We’re on the edge of their position. We’ve got sensors either side
of us – what - twenty metres away?’

‘About that,’ Myers
agreed. ‘Thirty to the bunker ...’

‘Which is directly
ahead of us,’ I finished. ‘We’re going to launch. Straight in.’

Puppy frowned in
puzzlement. ‘You want me to move round into fire support?’

I shook my head. ‘No,
we haven’t got the time, and you’ll risk being detected. We’ll rush them.’

‘OK. I’ll hold my
fire team here until you call for me.’

‘No dramas, give me a
thumbs-up once you’ve briefed your lads.’ I glanced at my visor clock. ‘You’ve
got three minutes.’

Puppy nodded and made
his way back to his fire team, while I waved Skelton in so that I could share
my plan with him.

Yulia was staring at
me. ‘You’re just going to charge?’

‘I’m banking on
surprise,’ I explained. ‘You need to stay with Delta fire team until I’ve
cleared the position.’

‘It would be better if
I come with you,’ she argued. ‘I am here to fight, not to watch.’

I considered the
proposal. Yulia was as well-armed as any of us, and even if she couldn’t access
our section net, she would be a useful addition to our fighting power. If she
wanted to shoot me in the back, then she could have done so at any time during
our patrol. At least for now, she was on our side.

‘OK,’ I decided, my eyes
flicking across to Skelton. ‘You will work as a pair.’

Skelton nodded
gravely, knowing that he would need to keep a close eye on Yulia. We didn’t
know if or when she might turn on us.

I explained my plan
as the fire team and its new attachment huddled around me. On H-Hour we would
charge the last thirty metres onto the enemy bunker, with Yulia and Skelton
giving cover as Myers and I made the assault. It was simple as hell, but it
would be so quick that the Loyalists wouldn’t know what had hit them, and by
the time they worked out what had happened, the first bunker would already be
taken.

We quietly moved into
position, forming a four-man extended line no more than ten metres across. I
didn’t want for us to spread out, too much movement would equal compromise,
especially at such close quarters.

I looked behind me,
and exchanged a thumbs-up with Puppy. We were good to go, and with less than a
minute to spare. On H-Hour, at the exact timing given to us by Mr Barkley
during his orders, both multiples would strike at once along a broad frontage,
destroying several of the positions located by our recces. Following that, the
multiples would continue their assault, maintaining surprise as they bounded
forward to attack the burrows in which the anti-aircraft weapons were buried.

It always amazes me
how slowly the seconds pass whenever I am waiting for H-Hour, it was as though
time slowed down for me to contemplate my fate. Was I right to use such a
simple plan? It was barely really a plan at all, and Puppy certainly didn’t
sound too happy with it. But did he have any better ideas?

I shook my head as
the last few seconds passed. There was no time to change what I was doing, even
if there was anything wrong with it. When time was short you had to make your
plan, and stick with it.

My rifle butt was pressed
firmly into my shoulder, and my fingers flexed around the pistol grip of my
rifle to give me the perfect grip. Muscles tensed, my heart pumped, and my eyes
narrowed; I was ready for battle.

I held up five
fingers so that everyone could see, and then counted the last seconds to
H-Hour.

Five, four, three,
two, one … GO!
I reactivated the
section net.

Nobody said a single
word. We didn’t need to. Instead the four of us launched forward as if we had
been set free from a spell. Four sets of magnets powered up as we crashed
through the undergrowth, like a pack of wolves breaking cover in their final
dash for the kill.

BOOK: EDEN (The Union Series)
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