Battle Cry, page 14
“Charge!”
The battalion erupted into motion as they leaped towards the enemy, one group split off towards the airfield, everyone ran as fast as their legs would take them. They had one moment of initiative in this breach, they had to make it count.
As Emma’s legs propelled her ever closer to the main door of the building, the pipes kicked up behind her, and blasted away with Star Rest the Brave.
For just a moment, Emma wondered what it had been like for generations of Highlanders before her who had charged into battle this same way, weapons readied as the war pipes blared their songs of honor and battle. If they’d felt like she did. If they had that rush of adrenaline as they raced to bring the fight to their foes.
The thought fell away on its own, as Emma burst through the burning doorway, her troops hot on her heels. Her brain ceased to think. There would be time for that later if she survived. Now she must live and die on her training, her instinct, and her sheer force of will. It was all she had, and she wielded them well.
◆◆◆
The smoke of the building enveloped her as she breached in, throwing herself clear of the vortex of fire that any entry way could easily become during close combat. Emma bounced off a wall as she righted herself and raised her rifle.
No fusillade of fire greeted her, and the remnants of the door and the men who had guarded it did. A brutal way to die... but so their own attack on her battalion had been plenty brutal in it’s own right. They would find no mercy in Emma’s cold heart today. Just retribution.
Squads started to break off as they moved deeper into the building. Groups used the building map and guidance information available to adjust their plan on the fly, with troops headed towards all manner of areas.
Everything needed to be secured, but the control center and whatever passed for a power plant in this hell hole took priority. Emma discarded the thoughts of the other objectives. She had hers.
Emma had to cut the head off the viper.
When they estimated they were about half way up and into the building towards where the control center likely lay, they began to encounter more organized resistance.
There had been groups of enemy soldiers in twos or threes scattered throughout the halls, manning makeshift defenses. They had quickly been eliminated as the tide of Highlander infantry flooded the building, but as they got deeper, the desperation of their enemy, and the sounds of combat intensified. They echoed down the halls as men and women fought for life and limb all around her.
Emma’s squad found their own piece of hell when they were ambushed from two rooms, the troops fired through the somewhat thin walls of what appeared to be an office space as Emma’s troops hit the floor.
The weapons fire continued unabated, and only slackened when they realized they had started shooting friendlies in the crossfire. The second the rate of fire dipped, Emma and a few of her soldiers hurled grenades into the two rooms.
The occupants dived for any form of cover they could find before the violent explosions returned the favor they’d gifted Emma’s squad.
Total casualties: Two Highlanders dead, one injured, a half dozen enemy infantry dead. Emma processed and filed the information away as a medic was called up. Doc triaged the fallen trooper in an instant and was dragging the injured Highlander back towards the aid station they’d established near where they'd made their entry into the building.
The rest of Emma’s people were already back on their feet, and hurtled along in the wake of their boss. The keys to close quarters battle was keeping the initiative, the tempo of the battle firmly in your control. You needed to hit hard, fast, and stop for nothing, save success.
Emma however, moved a little too quickly. She hadn’t stopped and checked the hallways at a T-shaped junction before she proceeded. She had gotten confident, cocky even perhaps, and she paid the price for getting cocky in the two way shooting gallery.
Three kinetic darts, freed from their sabot slammed into her upper arm and shoulder, one penetrating her armor and into her flesh before some nuisance in heavy armor tackled her like a football player. The man slammed her against a wall and knocked the wind from her lungs.
The rage in the man’s eyes as he tried to kill her, crush her to death even, was admittedly a sight that would haunt Emma for years to come. Bloodshot, a slight yellow tinge to the irises, the man appeared more as a beast on a rampage than a human being.
The impact of a few close range rifle rounds convinced him to drop Emma, as he turned to engage her squad. Another pair of well aimed shots planted themselves square on his face plate. They weakened the material as shards of fibers fell in the wake of the bullet’s impact.
Her arms freed, Emma slammed the butt of her rifle against the back of the man’s helmet, and as he turned to face her again, she hammered the steel butt of her rifle square against his face plate.
She shattered it with a single furious blow with the steel alloy butt plate, the armored material shimmered in the light as Emma spun her rifle around and rammed it forward. The bayonet sunk deep through flesh and bone with a squelch that sickened Emma. Her finger caressed the trigger once... and her assailant slumped to the ground.
Emma panted and gasped as she regained her breath, and Ezekiel slid an arm under her shoulder to support her.
“I’m fine, Top. Hah... just... had the wind knocked out of my lungs. Ugly bastard... eyes were pretty jacked up. Bloodshot eyes, even a little jaundiced. Make sure to mark that body, I want blood samples. He was drugged up on something, I’ll bet a month’s pay on it.”
Ezekiel cocked his head for a moment, “Combat drugs of some kind? Pretty sure those are illegal and have been for centuries.”
“Well someone forgot to tell that guy. I’d say check his eyes but...”
“But you pretty much mulched him from the neck up, right ma’am.”
“Yeah. That,” Emma shook off the assistance and signaled her squad, “Alright, break time’s over people. We should be getting close. When we get there, you know the drill. Charges on the door, or doors if they’re available, and let’s slap an actual door charge on a bit of wall that looks nice.”
Door charges were a set of explosives that could be placed on a wall, or the armored hull of a spaceship, anything solid, and the shaped charges would give the users a convenient access point that wasn’t in the enemy’s defense plan.
It wasn’t a standard piece of gear for conventional troops, but a normal part of Force Recon’s loadout. Gunny Wu had “loaned” some of the charges to the assault teams charged with capturing the reactor and the command center.
The trooper who’d been chosen to carry the bag with the charge in it smacked the bag at his waist and nodded, “Weapon ready, ma’am. You just pick a wall and I’ll make you a door no problem. These things are neat, boss. We should get supply to give us toys like this more often.”
Emma smirked, “You take it up with the quartermaster when we get back then. Come on people. Let’s move out. I don’t want to be late for my date with whoever runs this joint. They owe me a kilo of flesh, a couple liters of blood and some answers.”
After they cleared a few more corridors and side rooms, they finally arrived at the helpfully marked command center for the base. The squad secured the area unopposed, which made the hairs on Emma’s neck strand up. No obvious defenders outside the command center was suspicious, very suspicious. There was little to do for it all besides fight dirty. The enemy had to know they were coming for them. Emma could only hope to surprise them on when, and which direction.
“Spread out and stack up,” Emma knife handed the two doors, “First door’s our distraction, three second delay on the charge. Second door and our new special door are on a six second charge. No grenades, we need as much of this equipment intact as possible, so strike hard, surprise is just about the only advantage we’ve got here.”
“Where do you want the third explosive charge, ma’am?” asked the soldier with the special door charge.
Emma considered her options for a second, the broad wall in front of her could have all manner of equipment between her and the juicy meat within. With some time, they could find other options along the perimeter of this room. Emma’s mind ran through the possibilities, considered the time, and chose.
“Square in the middle if you’d please Corporal, no need to be fancy when we’re playing with a new toy.”
The squad split into two, and carefully placed themselves against the wall as the charges were set. Finally, after a few tense moments, everything was ready. Emma allowed herself a few deep breaths, settled her mind and issued her order.
“Execute.”
“Breaching! Breaching!”
The three troopers that had set the charges triggered their explosives and moved clear as the fuses silently ticked down. No dramatic fuse wire, or little box with a blinking timer like a kiddie cartoon, just the silence before electrical impulses jumped from detonator to explosive with violent results.
The door to the far left of them disintegrated even on its reinforced hinges, and a torrent of automatic weapons fire poured through the door just like Emma had hoped. The attention of the entire room was now focused on that door.
Three.
Two.
One.
The other charges went off, perfectly synchronized as their fury tore down the door, wall and equipment alike. Emma had no time to appreciate the skill her people had displayed. Every second counted, and the stack surged forward like a viper that had just snapped out at its prey.
Troopers flooded into the room, rifles raised. Bolt actions slammed back and forth again as rounds hammered away at the armed occupants of the room.
The defenders were caught entirely flat footed. Many were in the process of reloading their weapons, having emptied their magazines on the decoy doorway. The tide of violence Emma had brought upon them crashed down and swept them away.
The fast rifle fire was interrupted by long bursts from her squad’s Bren gunner, the 480 rounds a minute rate of fire more than happy to drown out all other noise in the vicinity. The return fire from modern rifles and pistols sounded almost puny in comparison.
Again the bayonet showed its value as a weapon in such close quarters, Emma’s ten round magazine ran dry right as she closed in on another heavily armored soldier who’d failed to put his helmet on. Emma’s mind processed her options in microseconds, raced forward, and brutally kicked the enemy soldier square in his center of gravity.
The force of the blow hurled him to the floor and sent his weapon flying, but still he tried to rise... only to meet the blade of Emma’s bayonet. It slammed down towards his heart, piercing through his unprotected neck and deep into his chest cavity. Once. Twice. Three times... the man collapsed. A fourth blow was not required.
Still Emma pushed forward. She vaulted over dead defenders and their equipment. The large room was packed to the gills with equipment of all kinds. Command consoles for radar and other sensors, communications, even the control stations for the various emplaced weapons were here.
The shape of the room naturally led her to the single door at the back. Unadorned, but clearly of exceptionally fine materials brought in from off world. Emma shattered the door with another furious kick. No reinforced hinges as she’d guessed. It was an office door after all, not a defensive redoubt or safe room. Why would you stick a kick plate there?
The man within had flipped his desk to afford himself some form of cover, and raised his pistol against his armored assailant. Emma lashed out with her bayonet again. The long blade cut deep into the back of his hand and sent the pistol flying.
“Who the hell are you people? And why the hell are you killing my troops?”
The man lunged for his personal computer on the ground nearby. Emma couldn’t begin to imagine what for. All manners of possibility flashed through her mind as she vaulted the desk and kicked it away.
The man rolled to his back and glared up at her as hate burned in his eyes.
“I’ll ask you again. Who are you? What the hell is this place? Cooperate and you’ll only have to worry about the justice system on the nearest USC military installation or capital ship. Make my life hard and you’ll face my justice instead. And I assure you, the hardest military judge in the Concord’s an angel of mercy compared to me.”
The man spat at her with a derisive look carved into his face, “Go to hell. We’re a free and independent people and I’ll die before you take me.”
He worked his jaw in an odd way as Emma moved to try and stop him... and died. His head simply exploded as the micro charge he must have had concealed in his mouth did its job. There would be no answers from this man for the crimes committed against her battalion. Even a simple reason why all of this had been necessary.
“You okay, ma’am?”
Emma caught her breath again and checked her chrono as Ezekiel walked up behind her, and covered his boss. Just over a minute had elapsed from when the charges had detonated. It had felt like weeks.
“I’m good, Top. What’s our status?”
“Secured. I called up Captain Fang on the battalion net. The intel boys will start tearing this place apart.”
Emma looked to her top NCO, “Anyone taken any prisoners yet? I bet Fang’s got a HumInt interrogator in his team who’d just love to practice his trade.”
Ezekiel shook his head, “No, ma’am. No prisoners I’ve heard of, certainly not in here... they died fighting, nothing nearly as dramatic as this pathetic pile of meat.”
“Right,” Emma sighed and dropped to her heels for a moment, letting her rifle hold some of her weight, “He said something odd right before he suicided. Something about being free and independent.”
“Sounds like some of the shit pirate bands throw around from time to time. We have no evidence of any pirate activity in the area, but the locals wouldn’t know considering they were forced underground.”
“I’ll make sure to pass that to Fang.”
“Take over the local work, I’m going to get back to my real job and put out fires if needed.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll have a team ready to go with you if you’re needed elsewhere.”
Emma stopped before she walked out of the office with her First Sergeant and popped the seal on her chest plate. Cool air rushed into her climate controlled battle armor and refreshed what should have been a sweat drenched body, the moisture wicking material in the under armor jump suit the only thing keeping her comfortable and dry.
She set Fae securely in the middle of the dead man’s desk and triggered a power up cycle before she reached down to retrieve the personal computer she’d stopped the room’s former occupant from destroying.
“Good morning, Major.”
“Hi Fae. How are you doing?”
“Fine Major. I’m glad we’re somewhere insulated. I’m also glad my systems weren’t wiped by the storm you conjured.”
“Me too, Fae. Ready to play with your code breaking software?”
“I’d be happy to, Major. What do you need to crack?”
“I captured a personal computer off the bad guys’ boss. It’s gonna be awhile before Fang can get to it so I want you to see what you can do with it. Be careful in case it’s got some sort of anti hacking virus or other countermeasures.”
“I shall be cautious... please place it as far away from me as the fiber optic cable will stretch. Just in case one of the possible countermeasures is explosive in nature.”
“Done. Good luck, Fae.”
Emma left her computer to her work and manually clicked her comm net over to the main battalion network. There was an emergency cut in if something had required her immediate attention elsewhere, but she generally kept external channels cut off during breaching or other situations requiring her to focus.
