LANCEJACK (The Union Series) (21 page)

‘Let’s
get away from here,’ Mr Moore decided, ‘We’ll move round to Corporal Myers, at
least we know his entry point is safer than here.’

‘Fair
one,’ I agreed.

I
followed behind him and his signaller, patrolling slowly back the way we had
come. There was no rush, we had to wait for Jimmy to secure the other side to
his entry point and report before we pushed past him.

‘That
was pretty clever,’ Mr Moore admitted as we moved, ‘I think our friend Evans is
still putting a bit of military knowledge their way!’

I
was about to reply when Jimmy spoke up on the net, ‘Boss, I think you might
want to see this!’

‘What
is it?’ The platoon commander asked as he neared the mouse-hole.

‘It’s
a civvy, some woman who works here!’

Mr
Moore glanced back at me and raised an eyebrow. Now that
was
interesting.

#

‘Who
are you?’ Mr Moore demanded as a trooper lifted the woman’s respirator away
from her face and tore away the tape that had covered her mouth and eyes.

The
remainder of the platoon quickly swept across the floor, ensuring that no enemy
were hidden away. Above us, Johnno had arrived with the reserve section, so
that we were ready to assault again onto the next floor and resume our pursuit.
The problem was that we couldn’t move without knowing if more explosives had been
planted. Even more worrying was the possibility that the rebels had enough to
bring down the entire building.

The
woman was shivering uncontrollably, her eyes darting between all of us. She was
terrified, not that I blamed her. She had been sat in a chair, tied up, gagged
and blindfolded, with a Chinese military respirator placed over the top.  A
rifle had been taped to her hands.

The
first man to enter the mouse-hole had spared her because he had landed
awkwardly. The precious seconds it had taken him to raise his rifle to fire had
allowed for him to identify that his target was not a target at all.

‘Who
are
you?’ Mr Moore asked again impatiently.

‘I…
I work here,’ she mumbled nervously. She spoke English, though by her accent I
assumed that it wasn’t her first language. I swear I recognised her, but I
couldn’t understand how.

‘That
doesn’t tell me who you are. What are you doing here?’

‘The
rebels wanted us to give them access to the Citadel mainframe, then they just
kept us down here and waited.’

The
platoon commander frowned, ‘Waited? Here? For how long?’

‘Hours,’
the woman replied, her voice breaking. A tear crept down her cheek.
‘They said they were waiting for their commander.’

I
turned to Mr Moore, ‘It doesn’t make any sense, why would they wait?’

He
shrugged, ‘God knows,’ then to her, ‘What were they after? What were you
accessing?’

The
woman quickly shook her head, ‘I don’t know that, either. We were made to log
on, then we were taken away. They did everything else.’

I
leant toward her curiously, ‘You keep saying
we
?’

‘The
whole programming management team,’ she said, ‘We were kidnapped, right after
you arrested us…’

‘
What?
Who arrested you?’

The
woman’s glistening eyes fixed on to me, ‘
You did
. I remember you. And
him!’ She flicked her head toward somebody behind me, and we all turned to
look. Okonkwo was stood just behind us, and I realised that she was talking
about him.

‘Jesus
Christ!’ I exclaimed.

It
was the woman who had kicked and spat at Okonkwo when he had loaded her onto
the LSV that morning.

Mr
Moore looked at me, perplexed, ‘You know this woman?’

‘We
arrested her this morning,’ I explained.

‘You
arrested my whole team,’ she corrected angrily, ‘We all lived in that building,
it was company accommodation. Didn’t you know that?’

‘No,’
the platoon commander replied abruptly. His signaller was tugging furiously at
his arm.

‘Well,’
she said, her fear turning quickly into anger, ‘You gave them exactly what they
wanted, you gave them us!’

Mr
Moore wasn’t interested, instead he followed the signaller a few metres away to
allow him to pass on his message away from earshot. I watched a grin slowly
spread across his lips as the information he was given sank in. It had to be
good news, I thought, for the platoon commander had never smiled during the time
that I had known him.

‘You’re
as bad as each other,’ the woman said to me suddenly.

‘What?’

‘You,
the Chinese, the rebels… what do you do it for?’

‘Do
what?’

‘Kill
each other,’ she said, ‘What’s the point? There’s enough of the galaxy to go
round, isn’t there?’

I
sighed, ‘I don’t know. It’s not my job to know,’ then I frowned, ‘Who are you
to talk, anyway? You make the weapons!’

She
laughed bitterly, ‘You don’t get very much choice on New Earth, I’m afraid!’

I
realised that I knew next to nothing about the life that the New Earthers’
lived, and the internal politics of their planet. So many people seemed to be
against colonial rule, even those who worked for the corporations supporting
the Union war machine. They lived in the lap of luxury, in beautiful cities
clad in marble that the poor people of the European slums would have killed
for, but for some reason that wasn’t enough. What was wrong with them all?

‘So
you’re not on our side, then?’

She
sniffed, ‘No.’

‘Then
whose side are you on?’

‘New
Earth’s side,’ the woman replied, ‘The side of humanity. We can have a second
chance here, that’s why it’s called
New Earth
.’

I
was about to reply when the platoon commander returned, smiling broadly. He was
definitely the bearer of good news.

‘What’s
up, Boss?’ Jimmy asked. The smile had intrigued him, as well.

Mr
Moore looked down his nose at the woman, ‘Looks like NELAs plan backfired. The
rebel controlled saucer has been shot down, and our friends in the Citadel decided
to just run straight out into the conscript cordon.’

‘And?’

‘Surrendered,’
he said, ‘Ruckheim’s already taking them back to Eindhoven as we speak. They
mustn’t have thought there wouldn’t be anyone down there. Stupid, really.’

‘Yeah,’
I agreed, nodding slowly.

That
wasn’t just stupid, it was
ridiculously
stupid. Surely they hadn’t
expected for us to leave the back door open? We had expected the conscripts to
become engaged in a fierce battle with additional rebel units on the ground, who
were desperate to maintain a route out of the Citadel. A platoon of drop
troopers had even been placed on standby to assist them, we had been so
certain. Why had they waited for so long in the first place?
‘Hours’
the
woman had said. It was as if they had been waiting for
us
, but what
possible advantage could they take from doing that? It just didn’t make sense.

‘What’s
going on?’ I wondered aloud.

‘I
know,’ Jimmy agreed, ‘It doesn’t add up.’

Mr
Moore shrugged, ‘It doesn’t need to. These rebels are idiots. Take away their
computers and they’re just a bunch of kids with no idea, doing what a has-been
ex-trooper tells them to.’

‘They’ve
done some pretty impressive stuff up until now,’ I said, ‘And they seem to know
what
we’re
doing almost all the time.’

He
waved his hand dismissively, ‘That’s because they have Evans telling them what
to do.’

‘No,’
I shook my head, ‘There’s more to it than that. Ev - I mean Evans is a
sideshow. He’s not their leader. He has something they want, but he’s not their
leader. There’s somebody else in the mix, somebody who knows exactly what we’re
doing and is thinking one step ahead of us.’

The
platoon commander considered what I was saying for a second and then screwed
his face up, ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. We’re winning, that’s all we need to know
for now. We have air superiority, every rebel stronghold is falling and Major
Ruckheim has captured Evans and whatever equipment his men stole from the Citadel…’

The
woman’s eyes widened suddenly as if she were remembering something, and she
looked up at us in alarm, ‘Ruckheim…?’

‘Yes,
that’s his name,’ the boss agreed patronisingly.

‘The
rebels mentioned that name,’ the woman continued, ‘That was who they were
waiting for!’

‘What
are you talking about?’

‘Herr
Ruckheim,’ she repeated, ‘They said that they were waiting for Herr Ruckheim!’

Mr
Moore frowned, ‘What?’

It
took me a couple of seconds to realise what was going on, and when I did the
blood rushed away from my face as I turned to the boss in horror.

I
gasped, ‘We’ve just shut down the whole city network! The whole surveillance
system is down!’

‘And?’

‘Is
anybody actually watching the conscripts taking the rebels away?’

Realisation
spread across the platoon commander’s face, ‘Are you suggesting that Ruckheim
is a rebel?’

The
hairs on the back of my neck rose, ‘I don’t know, but we need to get back to
Eindhoven now!’

13

Who to Trust

The
platoon of conscripts who had been left defending Eindhoven never knew what hit
them. They had expected to defend themselves against anything from waves of
rebel fighters and LSVs, to the rogue saucer that had harassed our assault onto
the Citadel, but they hadn’t banked upon an entire company of elite drop
troopers descending upon them.

We
stormed out of our dropships as soon as they touched down, making our way
directly for the guard sangars dotted along the length of the compound wall.
Our main effort, briefed down to us by the OC during our rapid return flight,
was to seal off Eindhoven so that there was no escape for any of the
conscripts. After that, if anybody within the FOB wanted a fight, we would make
short work of them.

One
of the conscripts came to the doorway of his sangar to see what was happening
just as my section charged up the stairwell toward him. His eyes widened as he
saw that our weapons were trained onto him and that we meant business, and he
stepped backward into the sangar.

‘What
is going on?’

‘Don’t
move!’ Okonkwo hollered, and the conscript dropped his weapon at his feet. Like
a charging bull, he pushed the conscript backwards and into the sangar. The
remainder of my fire team piled in afterwards.

There
were two conscripts in the sangar, both of whom stared at us wild-eyed as we
rapidly stripped them of all of their weapons.

I
pointed out the door, ‘Downstairs! Now!’

The
conscripts couldn’t believe what was happening, and one of them threw up him
arms defensively, speaking in English, ‘What is this about?’

Okonkwo
jabbed at them menacingly with his bayonet, ‘DOWNSTAIRS!’

They
needed no more encouragement, they ran out of the door and down the stairs
where Konny and his own fire team waited to receive them. Something exploded
from within the compound, causing the conscripts to jump in alarm, but my
section all knew that the noise was caused by mouse-hole charges being used to
enter the buildings.

I
looked about the sangar, quickly assessing what equipment it had and how we
might use it. Ordinarily a relieving trooper would be briefed on everything to
do with his guard duty, a process that could take up to five minutes, but
unfortunately I didn’t have that luxury.

The
sangar was simple enough. It jutted just above the lip of the FOB wall, and had
long slits along each of its four walls that allowed weapons to be fired from
it, like a raised pill box. The slits were covered by hardened glass that
afforded some protection from snipers if they weren’t being used. I looked out
of each slit, seeing that the sangar had an unobstructed view both into the
city and inside the FOB itself. In the centre of the room sat the control
station for a series of remote weapon systems attached to the roof, including a
smart launcher and vulcan cannon.

‘Okonkwo,
work out how to operate that,’ I ordered, pointing at the control station, then
I turned to Jackson, ‘Keep your eyes out.’

He
nodded enthusiastically, ‘Roger!’

I
switched to the platoon net, ‘Hello Two-zero, this is Two-three-Charlie, that’s
my sangar secured.’

‘Two-zero,
roger,’ Mr Moore acknowledged, ‘Hold your position.’

I
used one of the sangar slits to look into the compound, watching as Konny’s
fire team drove our prisoners toward Johnno and his work party. With their
hands clasped behind their heads they were forced into a jog by relentless
pushing and shouting from their drop trooper captors.

We
were taught to maintain the shock of capture when dealing with prisoners by
rough, aggressive treatment and rapid processing that saw them pass from frontline
section to platoon sergeant to CSM and beyond, often in the blink of an eye. It
wasn’t to hurt them, after all it was entirely possible that most or even all
of our prisoners were innocent, but we weren’t going to take the chance. There
would be time to apologise later.

More
prisoners emerged from the other sangars as the two other sections announced
their success, and Johnno’s work party herded them toward a growing crowd that
was forming in the middle of the vehicle park. One of the conscripts fell over,
and a trooper grasped him by the rim of his helmet and dragged him the final
few metres.

I
looked back to Okonkwo, ‘Have you worked out how to use that remote weapon
yet?’

He
nodded, ‘Yeah, it’s pretty simple. Designed for a conscript!’

I
laughed, ‘Fair one.’

Beyond
the walls of Eindhoven, the city was strangely silent. The night before domes
had glowed and buildings had glittered like a collection of multi-coloured
jewels, but now Neiuwe Poort was shrouded in darkness. Without power, running
water or even a breathable atmosphere, its people would be hiding indoors or
underground, just as they had when the Union and China had battled it out two
years ago.
We had wrested the city back from the rebels,
I thought to
myself,
but at what cost?

‘All
sections,’ Mr Moore ordered, ‘Close your Charlie fire teams into my mark. Leave
your Delta to hold the perimeter.’

I
joined the other two section commanders in a chorused ‘Roger’, and then hurried
my fire team out of the sangar. Having heard the message, Konny and his own men
passed us on the stairs in order to take our place.

‘There’s
a remote weapon in there,’ I pointed out, ‘It’s easy to operate.’

Konny
nodded, ‘No worries.’

My
visor drew my attention to the platoon commander’s mark, which hovered beside
the airlocks that led into the main building, and as I ran toward it I saw the
other two fire teams converge with us from their own sangars.

Mr
Moore was stood inside one of the locks, its smouldering outer door beneath his
boots. Westy’s platoon had already blown their way inside whilst we had secured
the perimeter, so that the conscripts had no chance to seal themselves in, or
worse, regain the initiative and counter-attack.

‘We
need to assist in clearing out the building,’ he told us as we huddled around
him, ‘There are still around twenty conscripts inside.’

We
nodded as one, keen to get the job done, but Mr Moore held up a finger in warning,
‘Remember to maintain the aggression, but keep it under control. Nobody has
fired a round yet. We don’t know how many of the conscripts are in on this, so it’s
quite possible that this lot are completely innocent.’

‘They’re
still conscripts,’ Jimmy pointed out, and a few of us chuckled. Some of the
troopers in the platoon were probably enjoying shoving their comrades around, I
realised with a grin.

The
platoon commander frowned irritably, ‘
Controlled
aggression,’ he
insisted, Let’s do it.’

We
advanced into the lock, our weapons raised in anticipation of whatever might
lie beyond. The blackened inner lock door creaked in protest as we pushed it
open, revealing the same corridor that we had used previously to enter the
warrens beneath the FOB.

The
lights had been cut off, either by us or the conscripts, and my visor quickly
adjusted to the darkness. The building echoed with angry shouts and slamming
doors.

I
quickly identified two troopers stood in wait by the stairwell into the warren,
and one of them raised an arm.

‘Over
here,’ he called over the din.

As
we approached I could hear that most of the shouting was coming from down the
stairs.

‘The
building itself is cleared,’ one of the troopers told us, ‘Most of the
conscripts are downstairs.’

‘Good,’
Mr Moore turned to us, ‘Let’s go!’

The
warrens were pitch black, and they were noisy. Troopers were screaming at
frightened and confused conscripts, standing in a chain along the length of
every corridor, thrusting them toward the chamber where we had originally
received our orders. As I watched them violently herding prisoners through the
darkness, I remembered the chaos of the underground battle my platoon had
fought. Despite the carnage I had seen, at least I had known who my enemy was.
Now I wasn’t so sure.

‘Bad
memories?’ Okonkwo asked as we moved along the corridor.

I
sighed, ‘I don’t have any good memories.’

My
statement shocked me because it was true. Since leaving school I had no good
memories. New Earth was hell, and if anything, it was getting worse.

‘Where
is your platoon commander?’ Mr Moore demanded as he led us away from the
chamber, against the flow of prisoners. He pushed them out of his way as he
stormed along the corridor like a charging bull. I smiled grimly. Our boss was
a dour, arrogant arsehole, but he wasn’t shy!

The
troopers gestured us onward, and eventually I spotted Westy’s platoon commander
engaged in a heated argument with a conscript officer.

‘What’s
going on, Mr Williams?’ Mr Moore demanded. He glanced with a frown toward the
conscript officer, who glared back through the respirator that he held against
his face with his free hand.

‘This
is the company second in command,’ the younger platoon commander explained, but
Mr Moore simply kissed his teeth.

‘I
don’t care who he is,’ he snapped, ‘He goes with the rest of the prisoners to
the chamber before being segregated for questioning.’

‘This
is an outrage,’ the conscript officer shouted in English, making his fury
clear, ‘Who do you think you are dealing with?’

‘Potential
rebel sympathisers,’ Mr Moore retorted, and looked back to Jimmy, ‘If you would,
please, Corporal?’

‘Yes,
Boss,’ Jimmy gripped the conscript officer by his shirt and threw him backward
up the corridor. The officer’s protests were cut short as more troopers’ hands
grabbed at him and he was rapidly passed up the chain along with the rest of
the prisoners.

Mr
Moore ordered our three fire teams to assist in the clearance of the warrens,
and we joined with our comrades in the systematic search, moving through the
caves without leaving a single corner untouched. We searched through accommodation
laid out in a similar fashion to our own in Lash, as well as through large
caverns filled with stores and others stacked with computer equipment.

Most
of the conscripts had already been captured, but occasionally we found somebody
hiding and they were quickly dragged away. All of them appeared to be
completely shocked by what was happening, and I began to doubt that the ones
left within Eindhoven had been a part of Ruckheim’s betrayal.

Once
the two platoon commanders were satisfied that we had cleared every metre of
the conscript warrens, we returned to the cavern where the prisoners we had
found within the warrens had been amassed.

Westy,
as the platoon sergeant, had segregated the prisoners into three groups,
officers, NCOs and privates, each of whom was kept in a separate corner of the
cavern under guard. They were sat cross-legged with their hands bound behind
them, and tape was stuck across their eyes beneath their respirator visors so
that they could not see . I knew that their headsets would have been
de-activated so that they could not hear either, effectively rendering them
unable to communicate.

We
didn’t restrict the senses as a means of torture, although I had no doubt that
it was unpleasant. We merely did so in order to impair the ability of our
prisoners to attack us; not that a few terrified conscripts would be a match
against more than a platoon of highly trained drop troopers anyway.

Somebody
amongst the huddled privates sobbed in despair, and the pathetic sound caused
me to grimace.

Westy
strode up beside me and we exchanged a respectful nod, ‘You alright, mate?’

I
sighed, ‘Just about. We took two casualties in the Citadel.’

‘Bad?’

‘They’ll
live.’

Westy
looked toward the sobbing conscript, ‘They haven’t a clue what’s going on, have
they?’

‘No,’
I agreed.

As
we watched as a trooper nudged the conscript. It wasn’t a violent nudge, I
realised, for the trooper then leant over and patted him on the shoulder,
whispering for him to remain calm. Nobody in the cavern had anything to fear, so
long as they were innocent.

I
looked at my old friend, ‘What the hell is going on?’

Westy
puffed his cheeks, ‘I don’t know, mate. But I don’t think any of this lot have
anything to do with it,’ he nodded toward the privates. ‘Ruckheim left half of
his boys at the cordon, then took off in the LSVs with all of the rebels. The
boys he left behind didn’t have a clue, apparently, pretty much the same as
these.’

‘What
about the officers and NCOs?’

He
shrugged, ‘Who knows?  But would you hang out here, if you were involved in all
of this?’

‘I
guess not,’ I agreed, ‘There was something about Ev, too,’ I added.

Westy
raised an eyebrow, ‘Oh?’

‘I
don’t think he went willingly. He looked like he was being forced.’