RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5) (19 page)

‘Fucking hell . . .’ someone exclaimed.

The OC nodded. ‘My thoughts exactly. I have been
ordered to withdraw from this location immediately. Sergeant Major, clearly you
will continue as platoon commander in the absence of Mr Barkley. Do you have a
replacement second in command?’

The sergeant major nodded, then gestured toward Abs.
‘Corporal Abdi has stepped up. We only have three sections now, so he isn’t
needed as a section commander anymore.’

‘Good.’ The OC spared Abs a respectful nod. ‘I
suggest you report immediately to our company sergeant major so that we can
arrange to replenish all of your supplies and equipment. We don’t have long.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Abs replied. He glanced briefly at the
sergeant major, who nodded for him to go. He then picked himself up and
scrambled out of the trench, assisted by a couple of nearby troopers.

The OC continued to address the sergeant major.
‘I’ll give you a minute to delegate any implied tasks to your section
commanders. Once you’re finished, please close in to me so I can deliver your
orders.’ He turned toward Yulia. ‘And you must be Captain Kristov of the
Presidential Guard, I presume?’

‘I am no longer a Guardsman,’ she replied abruptly.

The OC didn’t appear bothered. ‘Very well. Would you
like to follow me? I think it would be prudent for us to have a quick chat
before we pass like ships in the night . . .’

Yulia followed the OC. The two of them walked along
the trench, the OC’s hand waving dramatically as he began to describe to her
the situation as he saw it.

The sergeant major looked to me and the other two
remaining section commanders. ‘Get the lads ready. Have your 2ics prepare ammo,
equipment and water states ready for Corporal Abdi.’

‘Yes, sir . . .’ Our chorus was glum.

He swept a finger across the platoon. ‘Stay
motivated, men!’

As he turned to stride away in pursuit of the OC and
Yulia, there was a shocked silence across the platoon. Despite our terrible
losses, we were being sent behind enemy lines once again, this time against the
backdrop of a full scale orbital bombardment.

Then, after a moment, training kicked in and the
mass of troopers sprang to life.

Puppy resumed checking the section ammunition and equipment
with renewed haste, knowing that Abs would expect him to provide an accurate
request shortly. Each trooper held up an item as it was called for, physically
checking that it still functioned correctly. Batteries were checked, as were
water levels and rations. Even our respirators and visors were inspected for
damage.

The men in my section responded to Puppy’s orders
without pause, such was their sense of discipline, but it was plainly obvious
that they were as unhappy with the situation as I was.

‘I can’t believe we just left our boys for dead,’
Griffiths uttered as he rifled through his daysack, checking how many horror
bag ration packs he had remaining.

‘Me neither,’ Myers agreed.

‘Well, we’ve just got to crack on,’ Puppy said.
‘Things are different now. There’s a war on.’

‘There was a war on before,’ Griffiths countered
bitterly. ‘The only difference now is that no one gives a fuck about
us
.’

I ignored the exchange, instead watching the OC as
he spoke at length with the sergeant major and Yulia. The sergeant major was
engrossed in his datapad, presumably downloading our orders from the company
commander. I could tell by the OC’s rapid hand gestures that he was trying to
get whatever points he had across quickly. Time was a commodity he no longer
had.

I expected that B Company had been ordered to extract
from the Edo province entirely, avoiding any confusion in what was becoming an
increasingly cluttered battlespace. With us directing our naval might onto
Europa, there was no longer a need for a softly-softly approach working
alongside the FEA. There was also the danger that the inner circle might use
its influence to twist the bombardment into a reason for Edo’s armies to attack
us instead. Perhaps they might convince them that the bombs were from Alliance
ships, and that they had finally returned to capture the entire planet.

Edo was far too volatile for us to retain our
foothold on Hill Bravo. The sooner we moved, the better. I assumed that B
Company’s final act would be to drop us off somewhere close to Europa so that
we could make our final move on foot.

It didn’t surprise me that we were being re-tasked.
Now that we were at war with Europa, the Union’s attitude to casualty-stricken
units would have altered significantly. Though we were only fifty percent of
our original strength, we still had three functioning sections, with the
equipment and training necessary to identify key targets for our ships to
engage. Alongside marking dropship landing zones, directing orbital fire was
one of our many conventional roles, so it made sense to send us in. I had no
doubt that there were already people doing the job right now, including our
special forces, but the philosophy would be “the more the merrier”. Every
additional set of eyes on the ground was worth a thousand rifles as they
selected and prioritised targets, disregarding decoys and minimising collateral
damage.

Seemingly satisfied with his instructions, the
sergeant major moved away from the OC and Yulia, leaving them to talk alone. He
caught my eye and gestured for me to close in the commanders with a two-fingered
tap against his upper arm.

‘Commanders close in!’ I parroted the instruction
aloud and left my section to administrate themselves.

I felt Yulia’s stare as I moved up to the sergeant major
along with the other two section commanders. Though locked into conversation
with the OC, she seemed to watch me closely, as though deeply concerned by my
mental state after my accidental killing of the civilians in the valley.

My eyes briefly flicked to hers, then away again as the
sergeant major began to explain the change in plan using the map on his
datapad.

He ran a hand over his visor before he spoke,
indicating that he was under a great deal of pressure. ‘Right. . .’ he began,
collecting his thoughts, ‘here’s the score . . . EJOC’s Union- sponsored plan to
allow the Alliance back into Edo is still on, but the puzzle palace have
decided that an Alliance-controlled province can’t exist alongside the
Loyalists. We’re looking at more than just a bombing campaign, the required end-state
is regime change in Europa.’

‘Regime change . . .’ I started. ‘We’re going to
invade?’

‘When do our relief arrive?’ the sergeant major
asked suddenly.

I fell silent, thrown off by the question.

Stan’s brow furrowed. ‘Six months?’

The sergeant major shook his head, then pointed toward
the clouds. ‘They’re here now. Three battalions of French dropship infantry,
plus god knows how many gravtanks. Somebody called them in early.’

We gawped at the sergeant major, shocked by the
revelation. No wonder the arrival of the Alliance fleet had been kept quiet . .
. it came along with a
Union
fleet as well.

‘So . . . Brussels must have known we were gonna
invade Europa all along . . .’ Stan said slowly. ‘They must have been planning
this for ages.’

I wondered how long it would take to mobilise an
entire brigade six months before its intended tour. They probably would have
been halfway through their readiness training, a year-long series of exercises
conducted on the surface of Uralis prior to their deployment. But they couldn’t
just jump in their ships and head out at the drop of a hat. Moving such an
enormous body of men and equipment was a massive undertaking, especially when
they were likely to be rotating between exercises, in-camp training and leave. Brussels
and EJOC - or at least the Union component of EJOC - must have been planning
this for months, perhaps longer.

The sergeant major tapped his datapad screen. ‘We’re
pressed for time, so I don’t have the luxury to go through our orders in great
detail. All you need to know is that we’re now working directly under EJOC
command rather than brigade, and that we’re being sent to disrupt Loyalist
anti-orbital defences in a marked “ops box” to the north of this area. Our main
effort is the location and destruction of anti-orbital launch sites, including
the stolen missiles which could still theoretically be used to target Alliance
warships when they begin the annexation of Edo.’

A glimmer of hope flickered faintly in the back of
my mind as I wondered if somehow we might get to resume our pursuit of Bhasin
and Helstrom. I quickly suppressed the thought, though, as I remembered that
our ops box would restrict us to a certain area in order to prevent us from
accidentally stumbling upon other call signs such as special forces units.
There was no guarantee the missiles would be taken there.

The sergeant major glanced over at the OC. ‘B
Company are going to extract from here in the next five minutes. The OC’s plan
is to conduct a tactical withdrawal southward, with One and Two Platoons’
dropships bounding rearwards on the west and eastern flanks whilst company
headquarters moves up the middle. Three platoon is going to move further out to
the west to cover that withdrawal from enemy missile fire. We will join Three Platoon,
but when they go firm we will dismount and move off.’

We nodded, understanding the ruse to drop us off
away from the village. B Company could have escaped easily enough by speeding
southward in a single formation, since the threat posed by the Militia’s meagre
shoulder-launched anti-aircraft capability was minimal, but an elaborate
withdrawal would provide the smokescreen we needed to continue with our
mission. The Militia wouldn’t think anything of B Company’s manoeuvres, instead
assuming that we were playing careful. Whilst Three Platoon waited out to the
west of the village as an apparent flank protection, we would melt into the
forest, heading northward to our new objective.

‘Did the OC say anything about the boss?’ Corporal
Kamara asked.

The sergeant major fixed him with a hard stare. ‘Nobody
is specifically looking for him anymore.’

We all stared back at him for a moment. In my mind I
searched for arguments why we couldn’t simply give up on our fellow platoon
members, but relented as the grim reality finally set in. Our heedless pursuit
of our platoon commander had resulted in nothing but death and injury, and the
victims were mainly civilian. There would be no further search for our missing
troopers. They would be classed as “missing in action” . . . but Mr Barkley and
his men were almost certainly already dead.

‘What about Yulia?’ I asked.

‘It seems she has the OC’s approval,’ the sergeant major
said, nodding toward where she and the company commander were deep in
conversation. ‘He thinks we should take her with us.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

‘She claims to have a good knowledge of the border
area, and has friends up there who can help us. The OC is confirming her story
with brigade.’

‘What do
you
think?’ I asked. Despite the
difference in rank, the OC didn’t have any authority over us. Since we were now
working directly to EJOC, the OC’s opinion was just that - an opinion. We
didn’t have to do anything he told us to if we didn’t think it benefitted our
mission. That was another reason why the role of Recce 2ic was taken by a
sergeant major. He needed the respect and the presence to be able to tell
company commanders if we weren’t going to do what they wanted.

The sergeant major paused for a moment, before
replying, ‘As much as it pains me to admit when I’m wrong, I think I’m willing
to take her if she’s up for it. She’s proven herself reliable up until now. But
we should still be careful. While I agree that the hum-int she offers could be
priceless, it could also turn the other way.’

We all nodded.

Human intelligence, or hum-int as we called it, was
one of the most useful methods of obtaining information, especially in the
Bosque. No warship in orbit, saucer or drone could ever collect information as
effectively or as covertly as the local population. If Yulia knew people who
were willing to share information about the Loyalist’s movements, then she
would truly be worth her weight in gold. For all his reservations over Yulia,
though, the sergeant major was right about one thing - even if we could trust
her, we didn’t know anything about her “friends” or where their loyalties lay.
People living close to the border were undoubtedly influenced by the Loyalists
and their marauding Militiamen, and the threat of reprisals would be severe for
any suspected informant. If that wasn’t enough, the reward for handing over a
platoon of traitorous Union troopers was probably temping as well.

The OC returned with Yulia. ‘You’ve struck gold with
Captain
Kristov,
here, Sergeant Major. She has
agreed to come along with you, and I think she will serve as a useful asset.’

The sergeant major looked at Yulia and nodded.
‘Good. I’ll show you where we’ll be operating in a moment.’

‘Corporal Moralee, Union Star . . .’ The OC switched
his attention to me. ‘I heard your name when we met earlier today. It’s been a
long while since we last worked together, and it’s such a shame that we meet
again under such heart-breaking circumstances.’