The Conscripts: Fight or Die (Blood War Book 3) (32 page)

“Where the fuck are you going?” Hu yelled.

“Got some explosives left over!”

Striker ran to the opening and threw the bag of explosives, then turned and started running back. There was a large explosion, and smoke and debris boiled out of the opening. Then there was a second and finally a third explosion farther out on the plain.

When Striker returned to stand by Hu, he asked him, “What did you do?”

“Beats me, but I think that might slow them down.”

Hu and Striker walked back to the cockpit, then turned outward to provide cover.

“How we coming, Borges?”

“Pretty good. Now hush. He’s regaining consciousness and I need to talk to him.”

Striker looked over at Hu and shook his helmeted head. He laughed. “I like her.”

“Hey there, can you hear me?” Borges said to the pilot.

“Yesss,” the pilot mumbled.

“Good, now tell me your name,” Borges said.

“Uh, sure. I’m Zenes Lee.”

“Okay, Lee, where are you?”

“I’m…I’m…oh, fuck. We crashed. I’m the pilot. How is my crew?” Lee said.

“Look. Don’t worry about that right now. I need to get you stable.”

“Goddamn. Odaka! Odaka, answer me!” Lee began to yell.

“He’s gone, Chief,” a voice behind Hu said.

Hu turned his head to see the figure standing there. It was the rear gunner.

“Toland, good. We need to get Odaka out. He’s all messed up. You’ve got to help me.”

Lee began to fight Borges. Hu looked back and saw Borges inject something into an IV she had established on Lee, and then he was quiet. Borges looked up at the crew member standing there, staring down at her pilot.

“Look, sweetie, I got your pilot. Hey, Kant, get her to the CCP. I got this,” Borges said.

“No, I’m not going anywhere until my pilot is out.”

Kant came up behind the crew member. He and Borges exchanged a glance.

“I got it," Borges said. "I got enough strong backs around here. Get her out of here.”

Kant pulled a syringe out and gave her a shot. She collapsed into his arms, and he took off toward the casualty collection point across the open sand. Two of the penal soldiers ran with him, giving him cover.

“Okay, guys. We need to roll this instrument panel off of him, and then I think I can slip him out and onto the stretcher.”

Hu and Striker secured chains from one of the rescue tools to the points labeled Rescue on the body of the ship and ran their other ends under the instrument panel. Borges turned on the rescue tool and it rolled the dash off the pilot’s legs toward the nose of the ship and the rescue point. When the pilot was free, Borges had Hu push the stretcher over. It hovered inches off the ground, waiting for its load. Borges carefully pulled the pilot out and onto the stretcher. She closed the two clamshells, covering the pilot in an armored cocoon. She punched in a bunch of numbers, and the stretcher’s systems began to provide a medicated atmosphere that would begin to stabilize the pilot, it also slowly collapsed into an outline of his body. Hu could movement under the cocoon as the stretcher began to treat the pilots wounds.

“Now we haul ass,” Borges said, grabbing the stretcher, and she began to run back to the building, the stretcher hovering inches over the plains behind her.

LSD Tarawa

Tactical Operations Center

Combined Confederation Expeditionary Force

“Sir, you need to see this,” said the battle captain.

“What is it, Captain?”

“Video from the spaceport. It’s only a few minutes old. I was monitoring the LZs and didn’t see this.”

“Any reports on this action from the ground yet?”

“Negative, sir.”

Sand leaned back in his command chair and waited while the captain brought up the video. It flickered on the room-wide display at the front of the TOC, then came into focus.

“What am I looking at, Captain?”

“It’s the east side of the spaceport. This is about ten minutes old.”

At first it was just a video of the wide, barren plain that the spaceport sat on. Suddenly doors in the sandy plain flashed open. Hundreds of hybrids streamed out. They were making a final push on the spaceport. He watched as the Raiders opened fire into the rushing wave of hybrids. They began to fall by the scores, but it wasn’t slowing the rush.

Then out of the top of the frame came a Mike boat. It was firing its metal storm and rockets into the waves of hybrids. Sand began to catch sight of Xotolis mixed in with the hybrids—this had to be the final push if the Xotolis were attacking too. The rounds from the Mike boat were chewing up the hybrids and Xotolis by the tens and hundreds as they continued to rush forward. It was almost hard to watch a living being shredded. It was so graphic. The first wave slowed and stopped. Then the waves behind them began to slow to make it over the bodies that littered the sand, so the fire from the Raiders was even more effective. The Mike boat runs were making a difference. The attack was slowing to a stop.

“Did the spaceport ever call for naval gunfire support?” Sand asked.

“Negative, sir. We’ve been keeping them informed when destroyers are in the right orbital position to fire. They were out of range when the attack started.”

“Shit,” Sand said.

The Mike boat made one run, then another, firing into the now-slowed hybrids. Then it tried for a third pass, but this time a rocket flashed up and knocked it out of the sky. It came skidding down into the middle of the aliens, throwing hybrid bodies, Xotoli, rocks, and sand out in a huge plume of dust and gore.

When it finally came to a stop, nothing moved on the body-filled field. Then a few hybrids came stumbling out of the dust. They were immediately cut down by well-aimed fire from the Raiders. As the dust settled, Sand could see that the attack had been stopped. All that remained was a few moving bodies on the plain. The runs by the Mike boat and its crash into the hybrids had halted the attack in its tracks.

Then, before Sand could say anything, he saw small figures running out of the Raiders’ positions toward the crash.

“What are they doing?” the battle captain said.

The room was silent as the figures ran to the crash site. They set up a perimeter and began to tear at the ship, trying to get the crew out. Two figures toward the ship with a stretcher. If Sand had had to make a guess, he would have bet it was Borges and Kant. They were the best in the battalion. He had seen their work firsthand on Rift, and now they were medics for the Raiders. He felt real pride as these tiny figures worked to free the crew, and then something struck him.

“Lieutenant Chuto, what is the tail number of that Mike boat?”

The Naval Special Warfare Squadron coordinator checked the video closely, then stood and said, “Seventy-nine, sir.”

“What was the tail number of the boat that rescued that platoon?”

He checked his displays, then sat down before he said, “Seventy-nine, sir.”

“Fuck,” Sand said.

He should have known it would be that crew. He watched the video with a renewed sense of urgency. They had extracted the tail gunner but were still working on the pilot. He watched as they carefully extracted the pilot then put him on a stretcher and rushed him across the open plain to a casualty collection point.

Sand surveyed the bodies on the plain. He saw Xotoli mixed with the hybrids. He had never seen them mixed in combat before—not on Rift or 703. It must mean they were short on hybrids. He stared at the formerly empty plain. It was now literally covered with bodies. You could walk for hundreds of yards without ever stepping on the sand. That was a hell of a lot of troops to lose, even for the Xotoli. He might have the break he had been waiting for and could never quite get.

“Give me a live fly around the spaceport,” Sand ordered.

The battle captain had a drone do a three-sixty over the port. It was quiet—a few shots here and there but no real firefights going on. There were more hybrid bodies than he could count. The attacks on the spaceport all night had hurt them badly, and that last rush had to have been the last big push on the spaceport. The Xotoli might have had more troops stationed on Chika than intel had predicted, but even the Xotoli would have to reorganize before they could attempt another push.

In addition all three of the LZs were pushing forward now, so the Xotoli were being pressured from two directions. If I was the Xotoli general, I would be scrambling to reorganize my forces, Sand thought. Okay, now or never.

“Battle captain, are the reserves still standing by their APCs?”

“Roger, sir, they have been on standby for hours. They are ready and anxious to get into the fight.”

“Good. Send 3rd Battalion of the 1st Marines to the spaceport as planned. Relieve the Raiders and get them back up here. I want those Raiders rearmed and refitted so they’ll be ready for their next assignment. Lieutenant Chuto, get your Mike boats back on board and do the same. Naval gunfire, I want you to pound the plains east and west of the spaceport, with special attention on the east side where the last attack came from. Do not stop until I tell you. I want it pulverized. Have every destroyer we’ve got fire on that plain every time they make a pass. Now get to it, ladies and gentlemen.”

Sand knew it was going to be close, but maybe, just maybe, he could get back on the battle timeline with just a little luck. He watched as the entire room came alive to handle all of the details his orders demanded. Come on, he thought.(italics) Let’s get this done.

1st Raider Battalion

Alpha Company

First Platoon

Nani was standing with Hu and Striker in what was left of the administration building, discussing how to reposition the platoon after the attack, when her comm squawked from the acting battalion commander.

“Flash traffic. Repeat, flash traffic. All Raiders, we are being relieved. The APCs are on the way. We are being taken back to the Tarawa to rearm and refit and prepare for our next mission. Get your people ready. We will load by company and platoon. We’ll use Hangar Two as our rally point. You have approximately ten. Repeat, ten minutes. Be advised the navy will begin firing on the east and west of the port to cover the incoming. Have your people keep their heads down. We don’t need any additional casualties. Ten minutes.”

Nani looked at Hu and Striker. She wished she could see faces. Sometimes this damn armor got in the way of understanding what someone was thinking. If they could see her face now, all they would see was relief and a big smile.

“You heard the man. Now get your people organized.”

“What about us?” Striker said.

“What do you mean?” Nani asked.

“We’re not Marines or Raiders,” Striker replied.

“Striker, after the way you and your people have performed, you're with us. I’ll make sure you’re treated that way. I can take care of the details later,” Nani said.

“But.…” Striker began.

“Staff Sergeant, you don’t have time to sit here and argue. Now get your ass moving and get your people ready. This is Alpha Company, and you’re part of the first platoon, so we will be first extracted. Move your ass.”

Striker turned and ran toward the platoon’s positions to organize his people.

“You know you can’t say that. Von Fleet is going to have a seizure,” Hu said.

“You know, for a newly promoted staff sergeant you don’t have much faith in your new lieutenant. I’ll worry about it, and if I know General Sand, he will approve anything we want. Now get your people ready.”

Hu laughed and said, “Aye, aye, Lieutenant.”

He turned and ran toward the platoon’s position. Nani switched frequencies.

“Snipers, did you hear the word? Pack up your shit and get down here.”

“Roger,” Fenes said.

“Check, but Nani, don’t you want us to stay for overwatch until the boats are down?” Basso asked.

“Negative. You'll understand why any second,” Nani replied.

Suddenly the plain was lit up by three streaks of red light as destroyers began their shelling. Nani loved to watch a kinetic bombardment. It was awe-inspiring—nothing could survive underneath that amount of power. When that depleted uranium struck the ground, a fountain of sand, rocks, and glowing debris flew skyward at an impossible speed. She could feel the ground under her shake with each round, and it continued until the destroyer was out of range. It was a comforting feeling. For the first time since she had landed on this damned planet, she felt like they had the upper hand.

“Oh, I got it. On our way,” Basso said.

Nani waited for the two sniper teams. First Basso and Mara appeared.

“Nice job, you two,” Nani said.

“Thanks, Nani.”

“Well?” Nani asked Basso.

“They were good. With a few tips I think they will make a damn good team,” Basso answered.

Nani had asked Basso to watch Fenes and Minga to make sure they knew what they were doing. If they had not, she would have had them replaced by her own people, but they had come through.

“You had them watching us?”

Nani turned and saw Fenes and Minga had just come down the ladder and were standing behind.

“You bet your ass. I don’t believe anything until I see it. You did a good job, but you can always learn something. When we get back on the Tarawa during our turnaround, get with Basso. She can give you a few tips. She’s been doing it a lot longer than you have.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” Fenes said.

“You four get with Hu and get on the first boat. I want you guys to get as much rest as you can before our next mission. We also need to get the armorers to fit Fenes and Minga with some new armor and proper weapons. Get a move on.”

Nani watched as the four hurried down the hall. She followed them stepping over the hybrid bodies and being careful not to expose herself in front of any windows or openings in the building. The doors were so much bigger than human doors. Everything was too big—it made Nani feel small. Another planet and another battle. Taro and Elias were gone now, plus more than she wanted to count. Some were wounded, but a lot were dead.

This had been one more costly battle. She didn’t know how much longer she and the others would survive if this kept up. In the dark, alien building it seemed as if she had been at war forever. She was tired, but she needed to get her shit together. She was the platoon lieutenant now, and leadership meant you overcame your fatigue and doubts and led the men and women in your command. She didn’t have time for this shit. She hurried down the dark hall toward the hangar.