Steel Walls and Dirt Drops (38 page)

"Don't know.
That is not my problem. I suppose when we get there they’ll shout a warning and we answer."

Second Cauton came around the corner
stopping next to the two men. Misha did a mental adjustment. She knew she was facing Kilo Squad.

Cauton
said, "Damn, I hate the dark." Both men looked at each other, but said nothing. "So what are you two lame excuses for troopers doing just standing here?"

The short man said, "Just waiting on you, Deuce.
I figured you’d want to cover us as we move out of the light again."

Cauton
replied as more of the rest of the squad bunched up in the light, "Yeah, well you've got all of the cover you’re going to get. Move it out!"

Misha did a quick count
, seeing only eight bodies. She knew that one of Aardrmicksdottir’s makeshift squad had come from Kilo, but she couldn't remember who it was. It didn't matter which, because the eight in front plus her one still left two Kilo troopers unaccounted for. Even though Cauton was the least experienced second-level commander in the outfit, surely she had ample sense to have two troopers as a rear guard. Misha had to try and hold her fire giving Kilo’s rearmost guard enough time to get past DeLaPax.

All eight
Kilo APES moved forward as one. No one hung back, although they did stretch out a bit. Almost unconsciously humans huddle closer together in the dark. Misha's team would hold their fire until she shot first. She hoped to hear DeLaPax open fire as a signal that all of Kilo had gone past, but when the small knot of bodies became nothing more than silhouettes against the light at the corridor curve, she opened fire aiming directly for the shadowy middle mass of Second Cauton. "Fire," she shouted. A storm of needler shards, small metal pellets and polypropylene capsules rained down on Kilo. Second Cauton pitched over backwards and lay still on the deck. Half of Kilo collapsed, either injured or dead in the first volley. Only the clustered bodies of their comrades kept them all from dropping in the initial round.

A split second later
the rest of Kilo Squad dropped to the deck. As if to announce they were still alive a round from one of Kilo's guns spanged off the deck above Misha. Involuntarily she flinched, even knowing that ducking was a waste of time. The shot was long gone by the time the sound reached her ears.

She
heard a grunt behind her followed by Lamont’s voice. He sounded calm as if he were ordering lunch, “Well, shit. That ain’t right! They gone and ruined a new uniform.” But, she heard his pumper blast and saw its bright muzzle flash. The pumper used a gas propellant to spray exploding capsules down the darkened corridor.

She threw her arm across her face as a flood of glass needler shards showered her and Lamont
, hearing the shards whack into boxes and ricochet off the bulkheads all around her. She felt a small sting along her right side and what must have been pieces ricocheting off the bulkhead peppering her arm.

"Lamont
," she shouted over her shoulder. "Cease fire. You'll give your position away. Everyone shift to position Blue-12!" She fired back into Kilo Squad, unable to tell what or whom she was hitting, but she didn't move. There was no position Blue-12. If Kilo believed her team shifted, they might not shoot the same spot they had hit before. It was a wide corridor, but not that wide. Still, anything that was a miss was better than the alternative.

"Tammie
," Misha said forcing calmness into her voice so as not to rattle the rookie. "Light up Kilo Squad, if you please."

"Roger that,
Third." Suddenly, a blaze of light illuminated Kilo, but they were so close the light washed over Misha's team, leaving them very exposed.

Misha shouted, "Fire at will, Lamont."
But, there was silence from behind her. She wanted to turn and check on the India Squad veteran, but instead she continued pouring fire into the remainder of Kilo Squad.

She felt
Qualls slam an elbow in her back. The rookie shouted, "They’re coming in from behind. I’m lighting it up now." With weapons fire echoing off the metal bulkheads and decks, Misha didn't hear the commotion coming from behind her. Bravo Squad must have broken past Raza and was now threatening her team. She heard Lamont's pumper roar behind her. She swiveled her head and saw him jack another round into the chamber with one hand. His other arm hung limply at his side. Cutler also turned and furiously shot at Bravo Squad peering around the curve.

Qualls
shouted, "Incoming." Misha spun back to face Kilo. In the time it took to check on Lamont and Cutler, a female Kilo trooper had risen up and tossed a grenade at them. It was too late to stop her throw, but shots from Lamsa, Everridge, Na'aranna and Misha all impacted in neat precision on her torso. Qualls leapt into the air, twisting her body horizontal to the deck and caught the grenade before it hit the deck. She seemed to rotate and spin, throwing the grenade in a straight line further along the corridor towards the advancing Bravo Squad, where it bounced off the metal bulkhead and dropped around the curve. Qualls hit the deck and slid to a crumpled heap at Cutler's feet.

The
whump of the explosion was muted, but a wave of concussed air passed over Misha. In the muted silence after the explosion, she could hear cursing and running feet as Bravo Squad pulled back into engineering. She turned her aim to Kilo Squad, but before she could fire she heard metal tearing and felt a vibration rumble through the deck.

"Hold fire.
” She shouted. “Everyone, hold fire. Kilo Squad, drop your weapons and surrender."

A voice shouted back, "The fr
ak you say. We got you trapped in the open between us and Second Moraft. You surrender."

Misha thought about
DeLaPax's team. Even though the firefight had only been seconds long, it seemed a lot longer. Unless, Kilo's rear guard had DeLaPax trapped, she might be able to move up and box Kilo in tight. Doing so would expose her team at the lighted corner where she would be very exposed.

Suddenly, five
Kilo troopers leapt to their feet and raced back up the corridor. They stopped suddenly as an APES combat suit lumbered around the corner into the light. The short man who had been Kilo's point man, slid to a stop within arm’s reach of the suit, his head about navel high on the massive suit. The suited APE reached out, grabbed the man delicately by the front of his utility uniform, and tossed him with a flick of a finger against the metal bulkheads. The man oozed to a heap on the deck.

The remaining four
Kilo Squad members turned to escape. Misha took aim to prevent the men from getting past her. A sound from the combat suit froze everyone in their tracks. The suit ratcheted a huge load of ammo into its mass drivers. She didn't know who was in the suit. It was a rookie suit without any of the usual veteran’s personalization or artwork decorating it. In the long run, it didn't matter whether it was a rookie or a veteran in the suit; if they opened fire with their mass driver, it would sweep the corridor of everything and everybody. Normal mass driver ammo configuration was armor piercing rounds. The shots would not stop until they were well into the vacuum.

A metallic voice boomed over the suit
’s loud speakers. "All hostiles will drop their weapons and surrender to Able Squad. They will do so now." The four remaining Kilo effectives dropped their weapons as if they were scalding hot.

Misha said, "Everridge and Lamsa. Pick up
all weapons. Na'aranna, cover them. If anyone moves, shoot them." She turned to check the rest of her team. Lamont was still covering any possible Bravo Squad approach and Cutler was bending over Qualls with a first-aid kit open. The woman croaked something she couldn't hear. "What did she say?" Misha asked as she moved quickly to Lamont.

Cutler smiled, "Something about
finally catching the perfect double-play ball, whatever that is. She’s going to be all right. She just had the wind knocked out of her. But, it looks like you’ll need a bandage or two."

Misha looked down to see blood trickling from a small puncture on her right side. It was not a bad wound, but her left arm was slashed and ripped with enough that it looked like she had been in a wrestling match with a tangle of DropSix warthog razor-wire and lost. "What do you know!" she exclaimed. "It doesn't hurt yet. I don't think I am going to bleed to death anytime soon. Lamont, how are you holding up?"

Lamont was still on his knees. His pumper pointed resolutely in
Bravo Squad’s direction. The man replied calmly without any hint of emotion or humor, "I got my uniform dirty. Sorry Trey, but I can't seem to make my left arm work. I must have a malfunction in the gears or somethin'."

Misha hear
d a slight slur in his speech as if it was taking too much of an effort to form the words. She expected Cutler to step up, but when she looked over her shoulder, Cutler was already bending down checking on Kilo Squad’s wounded, dying, and dead. She started to call him back, but Lamont stopped her. "He's doing triage, Trey. He has to work on those who need it more. You and I are still standing, so we wait for medical attention. Right?" His voice was quiet and a bit slurred, but he spoke in a professional tone as if discussing a hypothetical situation.

"
That is a-one thinking, trooper. Keep an eye on our six for a bit, okay?"

"Roger that, Trey
," the man slid to the deck. "I think I’m going to keep watch from down here if it’s okay with you. It seems the air is a tad bit less hazy down by the deck."

Misha laid a comforting hand on the top of his head. "
We'll get a medic to you soonest. You hold here and keep an eye on Jigsaw."

Qualls
croaked. "I ain't bleeding and I ain't dead yet." The woman rolled to a kneeling position next to Lamont. "You do what you gotta do, Third. We will hold here, right Lamont."

"Fr
akking A, little sister,” was all Lamont could manage to squeak out.

Qualls
smiled weakly, "Lock and load, big brother."

Misha walked away from the two as they trade
d cliques, some older than Earth trench warfare. She walked past Cutler working on a bloody trooper, past Everridge and Lamsa stuffing weapons in a huge carry-all and straight up to the combat suit. She reached up with her left arm and winced at the pain. She switched arms and rapped her knuckles on the suit's chest. She could only image the damage the ship had taken when the suit ripped its way through hatches and smaller corridors. Without a sound, the face shield slid back out of the way to reveal Aardmricksdottir grinning at her.

"Vark, reporting for action, Third. Sorry it took so long to get here.
Per your instructions, we had to make sure the armor bays were locked down tight."

Misha nodded. "What weapons do you have
in there? I want to make sure we do not gut this puppy into open space."

Vark grinned, "You know, Third. I haven't ever tried to breathe vacuum and I don't intend to start. This suit
’s been stripped bare. It’s an old spare we keep around to train new troops. All we have is the armor shell with muscle enhancements."

Misha said, "That
’s not exactly standard equipment for deployment, Second. As a matter of fact; I’ve never seen a stripped out model."

Aardmricksdottir nodded, "Yes
, sir. We kind of reported it scrapped for parts. Third Cans never seemed to care and it seemed like a good idea to me. The tri-wave simulators are decent for suit training, but nothing equals real time grunt work."

"Roger that. After this is over you send the specs up the chain and let the big boys bat the idea around. And next time, let me know about things like this. I
’m too young to die from a heart attack. I almost had one when I saw you crash around the corner."

"Yes
, sir," Aardmricksdottir said with a chuckle.

"Now, let's get back in the game. Did you strip out the comms in there?" All combat suits had enhanced communications circuitry that should
cut through any interference.

"No. We have the wires
to tap into the Kiirkegaard's comm system, but all spacecraft internal comms are completely down now."

Misha look
ed around the suit to check for DeLaPax's team. She saw Peace looking back. "All right?" she asked.

"No casualties,
boss. We hung back as long as we could, holding for rear guard, but none showed up. Vark came by before we jumped into the fray. Anyone hurt beside you?"

"Lamont took a hit
. It looks bad. We've got to get back into this quick. Raza's team got overrun and Moraft jumped up our backside."

Vark rapped her steel knuckles on the
bulkhead with a clang. "Then pardon me, Third, but get your ass out of my way."

Misha nodded at
DeLaPax. "Peace, you follow behind Vark." She banged her fist on the suit’s chest. "Judiciously, Vark. Let’s do this very judiciously so as not to damage our ride home."

Aardmricksdottir flexed her arms
in the suit and shot her hand sideways. With a screeching clang, she dug steel fingers into the corridor bulkhead, closed her fist and grabbed a handful of twisted metal. She yanked backward tearing loose a strip of the metal bulkhead. Calmly she said, "Yes, sir. Very judiciously. I won't tear open anything that isn't holding air. But, I assume everything else is fair game?"

"No more personnel damage than is absolutely require
d. These are still Allied personnel. Got me?"

"Yes
, sir."

"Good, we
’re going to back down this corridor to the next set of hatchways. That was where Raza was making her stand. We’ll check on her team and from there you’ll take point. We’re going to take engineering back, but I don't want damage to any machinery. I am not walking home from here and I cannot afford to pay for a tow truck for this distance, got me?"

"Roger that,
sir."

Misha turned to Everridge and Lamsa. "
Get your butts back on intel. See if you can hack into any open communications signal."