Citizen X - BP01 Read online

Page 21


  "I can fix that with some of my special Cajun crawdad sauce. Some of you guys help me load this thing onto an oh-gee sled."

  As they started to move it, the creature began twitching. A few laser shots to the head was all it took to quiet it down again. Once the creature was secured on the sled, the platoon moved out.

  By dawn, the platoon was weary from trudging through jungle swamps and Syd was wondering if they would ever find dry land again as they proceeded east on the trail blazed by the lead scout. The thick overhead canopy of tree branches and leaves provided full cover from the air, and the rear scout, who was now holding position roughly three kilometers behind the platoon, reported that he hadn't seen or heard any sign of the rebels in hours and that the trail being left by the platoon was faint. Kennedy decided to order a stop in a section of jungle that was mostly dry and Marines dropped their packs and then themselves where they stood. They would find no nice dry cave in this area, and breakfast would be served cold from emergency ration packs. The Lampaxa Vorheridine would have to wait until they had a proper camp set up.

  * * *

  "We're almost ready to spring the trap," Suflagga said to Currulla. "Thanks to the motion sensors we dropped, we know exactly where the Spaccs have stopped after traveling all night. We're assuming they have made camp and intend to remain there to rest up."

  "And they're still headed directly for the trap you established?"

  "No. They changed direction twice, forcing us to select a new ambush each time, but we've always found a new place. The current ambush point isn't as ideal as the others, but it'll work. It's pretty much an open area and they'll have a ridge line on their right flank with a sheer wall of rock that will block any chance of escape." Pointing to a location on the holo-map, he said, "The map indicates that the rock wall is seventy meters high and almost vertical, so it eliminates any chance of escape in that direction."

  "So it's un-scalable?"

  "Un-scalable without oh-gee ascent packs or climbing gear. And if they attempt to scale the wall, even with ropes, they'll be exposing themselves to fire from every one of our people."

  "How do you know they don't have oh-gee ascent packs?"

  "If they had them, they'd have used them to evade pursuit. We don't have them and neither do they."

  "That wall won't remain on their right. They'll turn and head for it so they have it against their backs."

  "I'm counting on it. All other escape routes will be cut off because my people will close in on the other three sides."

  "By putting them near a wall like that, you lose the advantage of using the fighters. They can't get near enough to attack the Spaccs without hitting the wall."

  "Without rockets, they're of no use anyway."

  "They still have their laser canons."

  "We have all the laser weapons we need. My people will decimate the Spaccs without air power."

  "How are you going to trap them if they're not on the move?"

  "We're going to drive them into the trap by dropping every available man who can hold a gun behind their position and prodding them forward."

  "I've told you that the men still in camp would be no good in a ground action. They're ship people."

  "When the Spaccs see a force of a hundred men coming at them, they'll move quickly enough and in the direction we want. They won't know if the men are professional soldiers or cabin boys."

  "My men are not cabin boys," Currulla said angrily.

  "I didn't say they were. I was only drawing a contrast between professional soldiers and the least offensive profession I could imagine."

  "A hundred men?" Currulla said, calming down.

  "Yes, it will take several trips with our three shuttles. I don't need them to fight. I only need them to drive the Spaccs into my trap. I already have a hundred fifty men positioned in front and on their left flank. When the Spaccs move into the trap, the flanking squads will close any avenue of retreat. Then we just pick them off until every last one of them is dead."

  "And what happens to my people?"

  "Once we spring the trap and have the Spaccs pinned down, your people can return to the shuttles and be back here in time for their afternoon tea social. As you've said, they'd be no good in fight; they'd only get in the way. I have more than enough people to handle the Spaccs. We'll have them outnumbered four to one without your ship people, and they'll be under our guns before they realize how we've trapped them."

  "Where will you be?"

  "I'll remain at the command post and direct the action from here."

  "Shouldn't you be out with your people?"

  "My place is here at the command post."

  "Yes, it is much safer here."

  "I'm not here because it's safer," Suflagga said, his nostrils flaring slightly. "From this location I can better coordinate the action."

  "Of course," Currulla said lightly, knowing that his tone would irritate Suflagga even more.

  Suflagga glared at him for a moment and then turned his attention back to the holo-map.

  * * *

  "Bravo-Leader, this is Charlie-One."

  "Go ahead, Charlie-One," Kennedy said to the scout who was watching their rear.

  "Three shuttles have just dropped about fifty enemy soldiers between your position and mine. They're about one klick behind you. They're standing around as if they're waiting for more people before they move out."

  "You think they're headed our way?"

  "That would be my guess."

  "Roger, Charlie-One. Keep me informed. Bravo-Leader out." To the platoon, Kennedy said, "Everyone up. We have enemy combatants massing on our rear. We're moving out in five minutes."

  The oh-gee sleds had been loaded before everyone not on guard duty tried to get some sleep, so there was little to do in preparation for resuming their withdrawal. When the five minutes were up, the platoon moved out, quietly but not completely stealthily. Since it appeared that the enemy already knew of their location, they didn't waste time trying to conceal their trail.

  "Bravo-Leader, this is Charlie-One. The three enemy shuttles have dropped another group. You have about one hundred combatants on your six."

  "Roger, Charlie-One. Hold back and keep me informed."

  "Charlie-One. Affirmative. Out."

  On Com 1, Kennedy announced, "There are approximately one hundred enemy soldiers to our rear and they're headed this way. They apparently know where we are, so we won't waste time covering our trail. We have to make some time, people, but don't panic. We have a good lead and they won't catch us as long as we keep moving."

  Sydnee, as an officer, was monitoring both Com channels and had heard the reports from the scout. She rolled her eyes at Kennedy's speech, then immediately scolded herself silently for doing it. Since everyone was wearing their helmets, no one saw her slip. She wondered what expressions their hidden faces wore while wishing again that they had never left the cave.

  Over the next three hours, they jogged east, all the while keeping the ridge line on their immediate right. If they strayed north, they'd be in swamp or bog. The area along the ridge was higher and drier, allowing them to make better time.

  "Bravo-Leader, this is Alpha-Two."

  "Go ahead, Alpha-Two," Kennedy said to one of the two advance scouts.

  "It's a trap. I can see troops up ahead on the far side of a clearing. They mean to catch us out in the open."

  "How many do you see?"

  "Just three, but there have to be more hidden in the jungle cover ahead."

  "What's the terrain like?"

  "As flat as my little sister's chest. There's hardly a pebble to offer cover."

  "Roger, Alpha-Two. You and Alpha-One return to the platoon. Bravo-Leader out."

  "Oo-rah. Alpha-Two out."

  "Platoon halt," Kennedy said on Com 1, then looked first towards the east and then south. "People, we've been tricked. The rebels have been pushing us towards a trap. They're both behind us and in front of us. We can't turn north be
cause we'd be easy targets in the bogs, so we're going to head for the ridge to the south and dig in. Let's move it."

  Knowing that there was a force of a hundred enemy soldiers behind them was bad enough, but knowing that perhaps an equal number were waiting ahead put new vitality into everyone's step.

  Sydnee managed to keep up but was out of her element and knew it. She wasn't afraid of a fight but preferred to do it from the cockpit of a fighter or the bridge of a ship. And she was real tired of wearing the confining armor. She longed to slip naked between the sheets of her rack aboard the Perry for a good night's sleep after a deliciously hot shower. But this wasn't the time for daydreaming, so she focused her full attention on keeping up with the man in front of her.

  They reached the vertical face of the ridge without incident and began preparing for the fight that everyone knew was coming. There was a meter-and-a-half-deep trench against the face of the rock which appeared to have been cut by rain runoff from the ridge. It was dry at present and provided sufficient cover so that no one would be exposed to direct fire.

  * * *

  "Damn, damn, damn," Suflagga uttered as he stared at the holo-map.

  "What now?" Currulla said as he entered the tent. "Another setback? Did you lose them again?"

  "No, we know where they are," Suflagga said through gritted teeth. "They're just not where I want them to be."

  "Didn't a famous general or other once say that 'in combat, you can't always expect the enemy to do exactly what you wish him to do?'"

  "That was General Verimilla. He said, 'When you believe an opponent has just two options, he will always surprise you with a third.'"

  "Yeah, that's the one I was thinking of."

  "Well, in this case, it's true. The enemy has done the unexpected. Instead of proceeding into our trap, they've turned south towards the ridge. You can see it here," Suflagga said, pointing to the ridgeline on the holo-map.

  "But you said the mountain was un-scalable."

  "It is, without special gear— which I've been assuming they don't have."

  "So perhaps they have that gear after all."

  "No, it's more likely that they discovered our ambush somehow. I had expected them to fall back towards the ridge after they had gone further east. Once we sprang the ambush, their numbers should have been greatly reduced , and the ridge there offered a lot less protection than the area they're in now. Now we'll have to dig every one of them out like ticks." Pointing to the map he said, "There's only one open space against the ridge in that area and the Spaccs are probably on the south side. If they are, they've probably taken positions in this trench."

  "So your people will have to cross a hundred meters of open ground to get to them?"

  "Yes."

  "That's exactly what you were planning for the Spaccs, wasn't it— to fire on them from concealed positions as they crossed a hundred meters of open ground?"

  "Yes."

  "Then it would appear that you have a serious problem."

  "Yes."

  * * *

  "Charlie-One to Bravo-Leader."

  "Bravo-Leader."

  "There's something strange going on out here. The rebels who were dropped between us, and who then made the push to drive you east, have fallen back and are being picked up by shuttles. Rebels from the group that was in front of you have moved west and established front-line positions along the north side of the open ground directly opposite the ridge wall. Some then filled in the area on your left flank that was just vacated. We were trying to rejoin the platoon, but they closed the gap too quickly."

  "How many would you estimate remain on our left flank and in positions facing us?"

  "Best guess at this point would be about a hundred-twenty."

  "Do you see any ordnance?"

  "My vid unit caught sight of two mortars being set up about fifty meters behind their front line, and every soldier facing you seems to be carrying a sack with four RPGs in it."

  "Roger, Charlie-One. Stay outside the perimeter and keep feeding us intel. Bravo-Leader out."

  "Oo-rah. Charlie-One out."

  Kennedy stood up and looked at the tree line across the rocky, open ground. It seemed as though he could see a little movement in the woods, but there weren't any clear targets. He dropped to the ground again so as not to present too inviting a target.

  Lying in a ditch, even one was that dry, would have been preferable to racing through a jungle if not for the certainty that a large force was preparing to attack their position. Sydnee tried to think of more pleasant times, but the image of her MAT at the bottom of the sinkhole kept invading her thoughts, so she concentrated on thinking about its recovery and the best ways to dig it out since they didn't have a tug or shovels and she didn't expect the Perry to return.

  She was working on an idea to tunnel down a few meters from the MAT and then go horizontally toward one of the two hatches. She'd seen a number of old prison movie where inmates tunneled out using only spoons or sticks. She knew they could do it if they tried. She just hoped the work would go faster than that of the Count of Monte Cristo, the protagonist in Alexandre Dumas' classic story that illustrated the abuse of political power, and the retribution served up by an oppressed individual. She tried to remember how long it had taken Edmond Dantès to escape, but she couldn't place it exactly. She thought it might have been about fifteen years because his former lover had a teenage son when he had returned to confront her.

  Suddenly, a loud whooshing noise from her external microphone was followed with a shout of "incoming," on Com 1. A second later, a loud explosion high up on the cliff face behind them shook the ground and rained bits of dirt and rock on them. Lattice rounds began bouncing off the wall behind them and laser shots momentarily seared the rock.

  The lattice and laser fire lasted for several minutes, during which a half dozen mortar rounds landed in the clearing in front of them or against the rock face behind them. Then everything went silent.

  "What's happening?" Sydnee heard someone ask on Com 1.

  "Easy, Adams," Sydnee heard Sergeant Booth say. "They're just trying to rattle us into deserting these positions. Everybody okay?"

  "No one hurt over this way, Sarge."

  "What the heck were they doing with the mortars?" someone else asked. "They were dropping them all over the place out there."

  "I think they have some people who have never fired a mortar before," Sergeant Booth said. "They're trying to learn how to use them as they zero in locations in the open area."

  "Jeez," someone said. "They wait until a battle to learn how to use a mortar? Give me one; I'll show them how to use it."

  "I think their ordnance is a little low," Sergeant Booth said, "thanks to our visiting their camp. They probably couldn't afford to waste any of it until they had a chance of it possibly being— useful."

  "So what are we gonna do, Sarge?" someone asked.

  "We're going to do whatever the LT tells us to do, when he tells us to do it. Now pipe down."

  Sydnee didn't know if Kennedy was listening in on the Com 1 chatter or if he had turned it off. It seemed like he would have said something to calm everyone if he'd heard the conversation. He was lying immobile on his back in the ditch roughly five meters from her position. "You okay, Rett?" she asked on Com 2.

  "Yeah, I'm okay."

  "Okay. I thought you might have been hit."

  "Nope. I'm fine. I'm just waiting to see what they attempt next now that they know we won't run away in a panic and give them easy targets."

  The next overt act occurred some twenty minutes later. A section of the wall behind the platoon suddenly blew apart.

  "Mortars," someone yelled on Com 1.

  "No— RPGs," Sergeant Booth yelled. "Keep up your heads down."

  Rocket-propelled grenades weren't as deadly or as accurate as mortar rounds, but the armor wouldn't protect anyone who was struck by one.

  The RPG attack lasted for twelve minutes. Like the first barrage, it failed t
o dislodge the Marines. Towards the end, the rebels were experimenting with firing the RPGs into the air like mortars in an attempt to land them in the ditch. They had come close, but so far no one had been injured.

  Kennedy looked up and down the line of his command, then squatted on his knees and said, "Okay, people, we're not going to get out of this lightly, but I think they may have fired a good amount of their RPG arsenal and now is the time to counterattack. Rather than sit here until they get lucky with those RPGs, we're going to charge their line. This new armor may not stop mortars and grenades, but it'll stop lattice rounds and laser fire, so once we start moving, we keep going until we're in their ranks. Burn down everyone who doesn't want to surrender. Everyone get ready because we're going to charge their line on the count of five. One, Two, Three…"

  When Kennedy reached five, he stood up, but no one stood with him so he dropped to his knees again.

  "I said move out on five," Kennedy yelled, "Now move it. We're attacking their front line."

  When nobody moved to this repeat order, Kennedy lost his temper. "I said we're going to attack. Now, people."

  When no one moved to the latest order, Kennedy reached up and removed his helmet in anger, then screamed for everyone to move as he rose up on his knees.

  Sydnee was surprised when Kennedy stood up without having said anything first, then dropped down again, but she couldn't believe her eyes when she saw him remove his helmet, scream something, and rise up on his knees. She yelled, "Rett, stay down. They can see you," but he apparently couldn't hear her because he had removed his helmet. She activated the speaker on her armor's chest plate and yelled again, "Stay down."

  Thinking she was countermanding his orders, Kennedy yelled angrily, "Don't listen to her. I'm in command here and I'm ordering you to get up and charge that enemy line."

  Sydnee realized then that Kennedy must have turned off his Com 1 channel and forgotten to turn it back on. Perhaps the chatter was breaking his concentration as he tried to formulate a plan. But before Sydnee could correct his misconception about her shouted words, a three-round lattice rifle burst hit Kennedy. The first round bounced off the armor on his shoulder. The second round struck his skull and cut a groove of skin off the back of his head. The third round entered his ear hole, skidded around the inside of his skull, and exited through his right eye.