LANCEJACK (The Union Series) (16 page)

‘Making
a wrong decision,’ I finally said.

Okonkwo
nodded his understanding, ‘Konny’s afraid of that, too.’

I
sneered, ‘He doesn’t make
any
decisions, so there isn’t much chance of
him making a wrong one, is there?’

‘Maybe
that’s the idea.’

I
frowned, ‘What, so he freezes, waits for me to do something, then gobs off at
me and complains to the boss?’

‘Isn’t
it obvious why he’s doing that? He’s trying to hide the fact that you’re better
than him. You can’t blame him for that, you turned up cutting about the place
like ten men!’

‘That’s
an exaggeration.’

Okonkwo
chuckled, ‘Mate, seriously, you need to have a look in the mirror. You walk
about like one mean looking bastard. Konny’s afraid of you being better than
him, and everybody else seeing it. Konny’s afraid of more than just the enemy, he
fears something that all men fear the most.’

‘And
what’s that?’

‘He
fears losing his place as a man amongst men.’

I
said nothing. I knew that Okonkwo was right about one thing. Troopers feared
nothing more than being seen as weak, especially the commanders.

‘The
lads love you,’ Okonkwo went on, ‘They think you’re crazy, but they also think you’re
hard as nails and you know what you’re doing. But you’ve got to have Konny on
your side too.’

I
realised that in a very careful way Okonkwo was admonishing me for what I had
just done to Konny. The trooper was at least as senior as Geany, and although
he hadn’t experienced as much combat as I had, he still held the wisdom gained
by years of service to the Union. For such a large and powerful looking
trooper, I realised that he was far smarter than he looked.

‘If
he messes up again, that’s it,’ I said firmly.

He
shrugged, ‘I know. You’ll have no choice. But just try to put yourself in his
shoes. If you do have to take over the section, you’ll need him to work for
you.’

‘And
Geany,’ I added.

Okonkwo
rolled his eyes, ‘He’s not that bad.’

‘He
has a cocky answer to everything.’

‘That’s
just Geany,’ Okonkwo replied with a sigh, ‘You’ll never get that out of him.’

‘I’ll
knock it out of him.’

Okonkwo
laughed loudly, then caught himself as somebody stirred, ‘You’re a proper
horrible bastard. Just as well you saved my life today.’

‘Why?’

He
grinned, ‘Because I’d have knocked you out for calling
me
a coward on
that ambush. See you in a few hours.’

He
rolled over and shut his eyes.

#

‘A
Company, close in!’ The CSM bellowed from the centre of the cavern, waking us
from our slumber. I opened my stinging eyes and checked my datapad, it was just
past eleven o’clock in the morning. We had been asleep for only a few hours.
The company slowly rose, and the cavern echoed with a chorus of groans and
uttered complaints at the lack of sleep.

Konny
caught my eye as we both stood to pick up our kit, and he quickly looked away.
I remembered my conversation with Okonkwo, and then felt slightly guilty for
attacking my section commander whilst everyone slept. The guilt quickly turned
to anger, though, as I remembered how rude Konny had been to me and the trouble
he had got me in.

The
CSM wasn’t impressed by the lack of motivation in the company, Take your time,
lads, why don’t you? I’m sure I can think of some way of making up for it when
we get back!’

The
company hastened, and troopers quickly picked themselves up and grabbed their
kit.

‘Who
needs sleep,’ Geany said sarcastically, clipping his belt kit around his waist.

Okonkwo
nodded, ‘I hear sleep’s over-rated anyway.’

‘HURRY
THE FUCK UP!’

The
CSMs fury brought us to life with a jolt, and we ran toward him, some of us
with our kit thrown over our shoulders with no time to put it on. A rifle
clattered to the ground as somebody tripped over something in his haste. You
didn’t mess with the CSM, not unless you wanted to spend the rest of your life
on fatigues.

The
three platoon sergeants quickly arranged their platoons into a square formation
around the CSM, hurrying any remaining stragglers. They stalked the centre of
the formation counting their men as they did so, whilst the CSM waited
impatiently. Westy caught my eye and gave me a wink.

The
CSM addressed the three of them, ‘Platoon sergeants, happy you’ve got all of
your men?’

Westy
was first to speak, ‘One platoon, twenty-eight men, all present, Sir!’

Johnno
was next, ‘Two platoon, twenty-eight men, all present, Sir!’

‘Three
platoon, twenty-nine men, all present, Sir!’

As
the third platoon sergeant announced that his platoon were present the mood in
the company turned sombre. The three platoons were normally between thirty and
thirty-two men strong, with thirty-two being the most that they could fit into
their four dedicated dropships. The company had been forced to move troops between
platoons to equalise its manpower, otherwise Johnno would have had to
cannibalise his work party in order to maintain the three sections. Our platoon
had lost almost a section troopers in two days, three of whom had died of their
wounds. A few heads turned downwards as we thought of the friends and comrades
who were with us no more.

‘Get
a grip of yourselves, men,’ the CSMs tone was harsh, ‘The enemy is still out
there. We all feel the pain of our loss, but this is no time for feeling sorry
for ourselves, we’re drop troopers. Remember that.’

A
conscript entered the cavern cradling a holographic projector in his arms. We
looked on in silence as he placed the device in the centre of our formation and
then walked away.
‘Shortly the OC will be
arriving to brief you all on the situation,’ the CSM continued, ‘Pay attention
and stay awake. I know you’re all tired. If you feel like you’re falling asleep
then stand up and go to the back. If I catch you sleeping then stand by! Now,
sit on your kit.’

Whilst
we arranged our daysacks into something comfortable to sit on the holographic projector
sprang to life, displaying a glowing replica model of the city that covered the
CSMs boots. He strode through the city like a giant, sweeping his gaze across
us as he checked that the men in his company were in good order ready for their
brief. The CSM was more than just the disciplinarian, he was the heart and soul
of the company and the man that set the example for all of us to follow; never
weary, never afraid and fiercely proud.

The
OC entered the cavern flanked by the three platoon commanders and the chief of
police, making his way directly toward us. It was the first time that I had
seen any of the other officers in my company, since everything had kicked off
within hours of my arrival. Ordinarily I should have been taken aside by the
OC, CSM and various other personalities who would have been keen to get to know
a new lance corporal, but instead I had been thrown straight into the thick of
it.

The
other two platoon commanders looked nothing like the boss. He was a dour,
unpleasant man, easily in his late twenties and presumably on the cusp of
promotion, but they were both young lieutenants who had probably completed
their training not long ago. The OC appeared much older, and like the CSM, his
rank had been reached after years of Union service. He was to be respected, for
no officer would ever be promoted in drops if he didn’t prove himself capable
in the field.

The
OC regarded us all as he stepped into the hologram, his entourage moving away
to one side of the formation. We didn’t stand for him, and no order was given
to brace up by the CSM - we were, after all, on an operation and not on parade -
but still we gave him our full attention, and not a single word was uttered
within the ranks. The feeling of anticipation across the company was almost
electric, everybody wanted to know what was going on in the city outside, and
more importantly what we were going to do about it.

‘I
want to start,’ he began sadly, ‘By taking a minute to think about those who
are not with us anymore.’

We
lowered our heads, and for a full minute we sat in silence, remembering our
dead and wounded. I remembered Patterson, the young recruit who I had never
really known, and my old friends from years past. I missed them, all of them. I
checked that nobody was watching and wiped a tear away from my eyes.

Finally
the OC told us to raise our heads and continued.

‘We
will properly mourn for our fallen,’ he said, ‘For those who have made the ultimate
sacrifice for the Union. But now is not the time. We need to remain focused
upon the task at hand, for while we have been licking our wounds the enemy have
been very busy indeed.’

The
OC took a deep breath, ‘It would seem that the information collected by the EW
team here in Eindhoven was not only incorrect, but it was in fact a deliberate
ploy by NELA to lure us into the city.’

Our
platoon visibly bristled when the information began to sink in. The rebels had
intentionally created the two data spikes that led to our fateful operation in
Nieuwe Poort. We had been tricked, and the result had been the loss of several
troopers and many more conscripts. Everything that had happened up until the
company arriving to our rescue had been to our enemies design.

We
listened in dismay as the company commander explained to us the full extent of
the situation in the city, seeing how the enemy had taken full advantage of our
folly. The rebels had effectively cut all of our communication across Nieuwe
Poort, and had managed to send a fake feed through to the orbital platform to
make it appear as though the operation was running smoothly. The two robotic
saucers had been cut off from their controllers in Eindhoven, but not before we
managed to purposefully crash land one of them so that it couldn’t be used
against us. The other had disappeared. The LSVs had run amok throughout the city,
attacking both Union troops and police and causing widespread panic amongst the
population.

Whilst
both Union troops and the police battled with the rebels through the streets,
NELA had mounted a series of co-ordinated attacks into key governmental and
corporate buildings, including the Citadel. Numerous buildings across the
holographic city flashed red as the OC spoke, highlighting the full extent of
the rebel attacks. Most prominent of all was the Citadel, towering even in its
holographic form to almost the same height as he was.

‘This
is by far the most sophisticated and well-orchestrated attack mounted by NELA
to date, and it has resulted in him taking control of almost every key building
in the city. In short, the rebels have captured Nieuwe Poort.’

The
OC paused to allow us to come to terms with what he was saying. It was unthinkable.
Where had they all come from so quickly and easily? Surely such a huge number
of people couldn’t just take up arms and mount a rebellion without somebody
noticing? We had well and truly been caught with our pants down, and I found
myself wondering what other tricks our elusive foe had up his sleeve.

‘We
have been discussing the intention of the rebel forces for some time,’ the OC
continued, ‘And we believe that they intend to hold Nieuwe Poort for long
enough to smuggle large quantities of military hardware out of the city using
the extensive and largely unmapped Chinese warren network beneath us. At the
same time their insurgency sends out a powerful message to the population of
New Earth, which could lead to similar attacks across the planet.’

I
thought about the vast quantities of military equipment manufactured in the
factories beneath Nieuwe Poort. There were probably enough weapons stockpiled
underground to arm every civilian in the southern continent.
It made sense
,
I thought to myself. But something wasn’t quite right about it. I seriously
doubted that the enemy were capable of moving large weapons of war underground
undetected, and so anything larger than a buggy would have to be left behind.
They could steal rifles, armour and smart missiles, but they had large
quantities of those anyway. Was it really worth all that effort?

The
OC went on to describe the enemy forces occupying the Citadel, and as he went
into greater detail it became apparent that our company were going to re-take
the towering building.

‘The
Citadel is occupied by approximately one hundred rebel fighters,’ he said as
the hologram zoomed toward the building, ‘Equipped with an assortment of weapon
systems that are similar or even identical to our own. They don’t appear to
wear any form of standard uniform, which enables them to dump their kit and
merge back into the civilian population, however they wear a green band around
their arm which they use to mark themselves to each other whilst in combat.

Interestingly
we have received reports that one of the key rebel leaders is present in the Citadel,
suggesting that they consider the building to be of significant strategic
importance. We have had no previous knowledge of this individual, and I think
you will agree that his presence may explain the sudden and dramatic mobilization
of the rebel forces in the region.’