LANCEJACK (The Union Series) (18 page)

‘Room
clear,’ Konny ended our conversation with his report, ‘Two lifts, one
stairwell. I see the other glass door.’

I
could see on my visor display that Konny had cleared the final part of our
floor, and was about to pass the message onto the platoon commander, when I
heard several weapons open fire on the floor above.

A
muffled voice shouted from somewhere above me, ‘Man down!’

I
knew what it meant. One of the other two sections had come across more rebels
on their floor and had taken a casualty. I felt their pain, but there wasn’t
much we could do for them unless the boss called for us to come up and help.

‘Fuck,’
Okonkwo hissed, ‘I thought we got away with it.’

I
chose not to reply and ran toward the glass doorway that separated us from
Konny, ‘I’m coming round now, don’t shoot!’

As
I reached the glass I saw Konny and his fire team securing a large open landing
tiled with glittering mosaics and decorated with exotic plants. Geany and Konny
covered the stairwell that connected us to the other floors, whilst O’Leary and
Leaman crouched beside two lift doors.

Beyond
the second glass door I could see Johnno tasking two of his work party to treat
the injured rebel, before bounding across the wrecked office with the remainder
of his party in tow. We were trained to kill, but the rebel was still a New
Earther and technically a Union citizen. He was also a useful source of
intelligence - if he survived long enough to be interrogated - so he was best
kept alive. I admired Johnno for taking the time to consider the fate of an
injured enemy despite knowing that one of his own platoon had also been hit.

‘Where
is he?’ Johnno demanded.

Stupid
question, really, I thought, but I let it go and flicked my head upward, ‘Up
there, mate.’

‘Is
it secure up there?’

Now
that
was
a good question; I didn’t know if the stairwell had been
cleared on the floor above, ‘Not sure…’

‘Boss,’
Johnno called out on the net, not bothering to use his call sign, ‘Have you
secured the stairs? I’m below you!’

The
roar of gunfire intensified, though it wasn’t directly above us. I imagined it
came from somewhere above the second office, furthest from the original platoon
entry point.

There
was a sudden loud bang and the sound of shattering glass as somebody smashed
through one of the glass doors above us. Konny and Geany twitched nervously,
their rifles trained up the stairwell.

‘Easy,’
I warned, ‘Watch out for friendlies!’

‘Johnno!’
A voice called urgently from above. It was Jimmy.

We
relaxed. I patted Geany on the shoulder and pointed downwards, there was no
point in covering up the stairwell now, the immediate threat for our section
was now below us.

Johnno
moved toward the stairwell, ‘Yeah?’

‘One
times casualty! One dart to the upper thigh, one to the abdomen! He’s pretty
bad!’

‘Can
I get to him?’

‘Yeah!’

Johnno
and the two remaining troopers in his work party sprinted up the stairwell and
around the corner out of sight. I heard the shuffling and grunting of them
taking some form of heavy burden away from someone else.

‘Got
him,’ one of the work party said.

‘I’m
gonna move him back to the entry point for extraction,’ Johnno said, ‘Tell the
boss!’

‘Roger!’
I heard Jimmy reply.

Suddenly
Geany jumped in alarm, ‘Contact!’

His
rifle magnets screamed angrily as he fired down the stairwell at something only
he could see.

One
of Johnno’s work party must have slipped over in surprise at the noise, because
he rolled down the stairs and ended up on his back on the landing.

‘What
the hell are you shooting at?’ I demanded, trying to raise my rifle to see with
its camera over the edge of the stairwell.

‘There
was somebody down there,’ Geany replied, firing again.

Geany
was indeed a gobshite, I told myself, but he wasn’t an idiot who would shoot at
nothing.

I
looked to Konny. I held up a fist - grenade - and then pointed, meaning ‘Down
there.’ Konny nodded his understanding, and tossed a phosphor grenade down the
stairs. My headset beeped to warn of the upcoming explosion, moments before the
grenade detonated.

The
noise of the explosion subsided and there was silence on the stairwell, broken
only by the sound of a single dart being fired somewhere upstairs. I wasn’t
interested in that. My entire world revolved around the stairs and our
casualty.

I
strained to listen, but all I could hear was my own ragged breathing and
thumping heartbeat. The shroud of smoke slowly lifted, revealing only a few
pieces of debris on the stairwell beneath us. I didn’t know if the enemy was
dead or simply keeping quiet, but I trusted Geany when he said that there was someone
there.

‘Shall
we push down?’ O’Leary whispered.

‘No,’
I answered quickly. We were already in contact on the floor above, and risked
losing control. The stairwell was easy to hold, since we had the added advantage
of being able to throw down grenades as often as we wanted.

Johnno
emerged onto the landing beside the fallen trooper. He held a finger up against
his visor, as if to his lips, to tell us to be quiet. I remembered that it was
all too easy for the enemy to fire through the floor beneath us, depending upon
how thick it was and the quality of their weapons.

Johnno
stooped over the trooper and checked that he was okay.  He responded with a
thumbs up, which was promptly returned.

‘Room
clear!’ I recognised the voice of Lance Corporal Matthews, two section’s commander.

Seconds
later Johnno looked up toward somebody on the landing above. He held up a
downward pointing thumb and then pointed with his finger to indicate that there
was enemy on the floor below.

I
assumed that Johnno was passing a message to Mr Moore. Clearly he would decide
to launch straight away, punching downward in an effort to keep the rebels off
balance. If we allowed our momentum to subside then they would have the time to
pull themselves together and counter attack, whereas if we kept going it left
them unable to do anything other than react to us, which was exactly what we
wanted. The art of combat was to make decisions and act upon them faster than
your opponent.

Johnno
nodded at whoever he was communicating with and then signalled for me to throw
a grenade. I drew one of my smoke grenades quietly from its pouch, set the
timer to two seconds and threw it down the stairs.

Somebody
yelped downstairs just before the grenade detonated with another plume of thick
white smoke.

‘Go!’

Boots
pounded against the stairwell as Jimmy’s section stormed past us all toward the
enemy, each trooper bounding several stairs at a time. The floor below erupted
into gunfire as the battle resumed.

‘Lance
Corporal Moralee!’ Mr Moore emerged from the haze, his signaller following
behind. I supposed he wanted to sound intimidating, but I was much more
interested in helping Johnno with his casualty.

‘Sir,’
I acknowledged curtly.

‘I
see that you have once again assumed the command of three section,’ he said
with disdain, and looked toward Konny, ‘Is that correct?’

Konny
started to speak, but I didn’t give him the chance.

‘Yes,
Sir.’

The
boss frowned at me, ‘It seems one medal just isn’t enough for you.’

I
said nothing, instead I simply imagined punching him in the face. Mr Moore
appeared to know how to do his job - and to be fair he wouldn’t have made it to
New Earth if he hadn’t - but my God he was arrogant!

The
platoon commander beckoned to me, ‘Come with me. Corporal Johnston, bring up
Moralee’s section, and keep two-section in reserve!’

‘Roger!’

I
followed a few metres behind Mr Moore as the platoon began its assault onto the
floor below, which was comprised of several much smaller offices divided by
walls of glass. Entire sheets fractured and collapsed as the lead section
exchanged fire with a group of at least ten of the rebels who had taken refuge
on the far side of the building.

We
kept low in the hope that the office furniture might provide us with some cover,
and I peered over the top of an upturned table to view the unfolding battle.

Because
of the floor being divided almost entirely by glass it was unlike a normal room-by-room
battlefield. The enemy could see and engage anybody as soon as they stood, and it
had turned into a fierce fire fight that left the air thick with darts and the
floor littered with shards of glass. Ahead of us the lead section had stalled
for fear of taking another casualty, and as I watched a trooper was snatched
backward as he was struck square in the chest by a dart.

‘Fucking
hell,’ the boss cursed angrily as the platoon echoed the word that once again a
man was down.

‘Boss,’
I called, catching his attention, and gestured with a sweeping motion of my
hand. I could take my section right flanking. We weren’t in a room clearance
environment anymore, it was an open battlefield, and so our tactics needed to
adjust accordingly.

‘I
know!’ The boss snapped angrily.

I
ignored his annoyance, it was the section commander’s job to make suggestions,
that was why the next reserve commander stayed so close to him in the first
place.

To
me that was as good as an affirmation, and so I turned to look for my section.
They were being held to the rear by Johnno, just by the stairwell, ready to go.
His work party and the second reserve were somewhere upstairs, left to protect
our rear.

I
tapped my helmet and Konny lead the section toward me in a half-crouch, their
boots crunching noisily on broken glass.

‘Go
to the far right hand corner,’ the boss ordered me, ‘Assault at a right angle
only. Understand, Moralee?’

‘Sir,’
I growled.
That’s Lance Corporal Moralee to you, cheese head
.

‘Go.’

I
needed no encouragement. As darts whizzed over our heads I quickly explained to
my section that we were going on a right flanking assault onto a group of enemy
on the far side of the building. Once I was happy that everyone knew what was
about to happen I lead them round.

We
kept our heads low as we ran around the edge of the building, keen for the
enemy not to see us moving around for the kill. It was critical for the
terrorists to remain distracted by the troopers to their front and not realise
they were about to be hit from their flank until the last moment.

Wind
whistled through the shattered windows of the Citadel, and as we came
precariously close to the edge I could see the domes of Nieuwe Poort far below,
reflecting the light of the setting sun. Flames licked over several buildings
as the once peaceful city turned into a battleground.

I
knew that the entire 5
^th
Battalion had descended upon Nieuwe Poort,
another two companies in all, whilst many more battalions of conscripts moved
in by land. Major Ruckheim and two platoons of his conscripts had surrounded
the base of the Citadel in order to catch the rebels as they tried to escape
our advance.

I
kept my rifle up into the aim as we snaked through office furniture and the few
glass walls that hadn’t been destroyed, aware that the enemy might be trying to
do the same as us, but we managed to get into position without any such
encounter.

I
stopped the section with a raised hand and ordered them to spread out facing
the enemy with my fire team to my left and Konny’s to my right. Crouching low,
I then raised my rifle just high enough above the office furniture to see with
its camera.

We
were now at the far end of the building on the enemies right flank, and I could
see one or two of them ten or so metres away using overturned desks and
cabinets as cover from view. They fired one or two darts in the direction of
the platoon and then ducked, moving to a new position before firing again.

Good
drills, I thought to myself, exactly what any good trooper would do. If you
kept popping up from the same place you became an easy target, especially when
the super high velocity darts fired by our weapons could punch through almost
anything. Nearby a rebel lay dead beside a cabinet riddled with holes, as if to
prove the point.

‘We
will assault in fire teams,’ I whispered, my voice carrying across the section
net, ‘Konny, you will give cover, my team will move first.’

‘Roger,’
he answered quietly.

‘Prepare
to move,’ I ordered, and Jackson and Okonkwo braced themselves.

I
looked back to Konny, ‘Rapid fire… now!’

As
one, Konny’s fire team opened fire and I bolted forward like a wild dog let loose,
sparks showering across my path as a stray dart struck metal and ricocheted.