RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5) (38 page)

‘Fire through there!’ I shouted at them, pointing
toward a window to the left of the airlock before spurring them with a frenzied
wave. ‘Go, go, go!’

The two Boskers set up their launchers and fired
moments later, their missiles striking against the Militia held building with
almighty thumps.

Using the shock from the missiles, the battered
Bosker platoon withdrew across the parade square, dragging and carrying as many
of their stricken comrades as they could.

‘I’m going to send out another attack!’ the
Frenchman said as the sorry procession limped and staggered in through the
airlock. As we watched, one of the last Boskers was struck by a dart on the
back of the head, causing him to collapse to the ground.

‘What?’ Myers returned his launcher to his daysack.
‘Through the same airlock?’

The Frenchman wasn’t finished. He pointed back the
way we had come. ‘I want you to attack from further back simultaneously!’

The young trooper paused for a moment, struggling to
comprehend what he was hearing. ‘You’re gonna use them as a diversion so we can
get across instead?’

‘Yes. I’ll send another platoon to follow you once
you’re in.’

Myers pointed out onto the square, where the
unfortunate members of the last platoon lay dead. ‘They’ll fucking
die
out there, just like those poor bastards!’

The Frenchman glanced at Myers like a man might glance
at a raving drunk at a bar, then looked back at me expectantly.

There was no chance of my arguing. Even if I disagreed
with the cynical disregard of human life, it didn’t matter. Einsatzgruppe-19
were in charge, not us, and our mission was to ensure that they achieved
theirs.

I gripped Myers’ shoulder with a restraining hand,
then nodded. ‘We’ll be in position in two minutes. One Section, prepare to
move!’

‘Prepare to move!’ everyone responded . . . except
for Myers.

‘Come on, Myers!’ I ordered, then spun on my heel
and ran back the way I had come, beckoning for my section to follow.

I ignored Myers’ protests as I led my men away, as
well as the stares of the Bosker platoon that were forming up, ready to be sent
to their deaths.

As I ran, it suddenly surprised me how readily I had
agreed with the Frenchman’s sacrifice of an entire platoon of Boskers. Then I remembered
what the sergeant major had said about Eden.
It sucks you in, corrupts you.
. .  
I had thought that New Earth had done all of the damage that could be
done to my soul, but I realised then that it had only made the first scars.
Eden was doing the rest.

 ‘All Blackjack call signs, this is One-One!’ I
announced as I hastily searched for a room close to the eastern end of the
barrack building from which to launch my section. ‘I have been instructed to
conduct a simultaneous assault with the Boskers against the second building. I
may require fire support to complete the crossing!’

‘One-Zero, roger,’ the sergeant major responded from
somewhere on the second floor. ‘Where do you intend to break in?’

I found an unoccupied room complete with a window,
and stepped as far into it as I dared, careful not to expose myself to the
Militia firing from the other side of the parade square. I then pointed to the
furthest right-hand window on the far building, dropping a crosshair at its
base. ‘Look for my crosshair. The Bosker assault is two hundred metres to the
west of the crosshair, and is intended as a feint.’

‘Seen.’ The sergeant major confirmed that he had
identified the crosshair. ‘We will keep most of our weapons trained onto your
area, but won’t fire unless required. We’ll fire a couple of grenades out to
the west in order to add to the deception.’

I looked over my shoulder, confirming that my men
were all ready. ‘We’re going to cross the open ground on my order! Don’t stop
for anything! Once we’re in, we need to cause maximum shock until the Boskers
follow in behind us. I want total chaos in there!’

Five heads nodded.

‘Remember,
do not stop
in the open ground!’ I
repeated once more, then I switched to the net. ‘Poltergeist-Three, that’s me
in position!’

‘Good,’ the Frenchman replied. ‘I am about to launch
the diversion now. Allow a short pause so that it draws the enemy’s attention
before you move. Poltergeist-One, are you happy for me to proceed?’

Aleksi’s response was instant. ‘Proceed.’

‘I can’t believe we’re using them as a diversion,’
Myers muttered from behind me, loud enough for me to hear.

‘We don’t have a choice,’ I replied without turning.
My eyes remained fixed on the window ahead of me as I mentally prepared for my
assault. I drew my last grenade from its pouch, keeping it ready in my hand so
that I could throw it as soon as I reached the window on the opposite side of
the square.

Myers wasn’t giving up, though. ‘We seem to be
getting pretty good at sacrificing innocent people to get what we want . . .’

I flinched as the young trooper touched a nerve, my
anger suddenly boiling over. ‘Well welcome to the real world, Myers!’ I
snapped, baring my teeth as I turned back to confront him. ‘If you don’t like
it, piss off to Two Section and wait with them in the sangar compound! I’m sure
you know the way!’

Myers said nothing, silenced by my suggestion that
he leave the section.

What’s wrong with this boy?
I
asked myself as the two of us glared at one another. I knew that he was
suffering, but now was not the time for a trooper to decide he didn’t want to
play.

‘That’s the Bosker assault launching now,’ the
Frenchman said, bringing an end to our stalemate.

Seconds later, the noise of gunfire increased on
both sides of the parade square, marking the appearance of the fresh Bosker
platoon. Emerging in exactly the same place as the last platoon, they instantly
drew all of the Militia’s attention - which was exactly what their
Einsatsgruppe-19 controllers wanted.

‘Prepare to move!’ I warned, then waited a few
seconds for the Boskers to soak up all of the Militia weaponry. Despite Myers’
misgivings, I knew that it would give my men the best possible chance of making
the crossing in one piece. As a leader of men, I considered it the lesser of
two evils. Better that some of us made it to the second building than none of
us at all.

‘Let’s go!’ I shouted.

Myers surprised me as he exploded into action,
barging past me to take his position as point man. I presumed that the act was
intended as some kind of display of anger, but I wasn’t going to kick off over
it. He was meant to be in front of me in the order of march anyway. I followed
just behind him, running across the room, vaulting through the window and then out
onto the square.

The carpet of glass cracked and gave way beneath my
boots as I sprinted toward the window in pursuit of Myers, hooking around to
the right in order to avoid the ferocious exchange of firepower between the two
buildings. The square flashed continuously as thousands of darts struck the
ground nearby, illuminating us and casting long shadows that danced like ghouls
across the walls of the barrack buildings. I didn’t know if any of it was
directed at us, and I was only vaguely aware of the fresh wave of Boskers off
to my left. All that mattered was to get my men across the square.

We had almost reached the second building when
somebody behind me yelped. I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes widening in
horror as I saw that Puppy had fallen to the ground.

Myers saw the same thing, and he slowed. ‘Puppy!’ he
cried out in anguish.

‘Keep going!’ I roared, pushing the young trooper’s
daysack and propelling him on toward the open window. Regardless of what
happened to Puppy, we couldn’t hesitate in the middle of an assault. Doing so
would be suicide, not just for the individual but for the section as a whole.

‘We can’t leave him there!’ he yelled, trying to
fight with me as his emotions battled with tactical reason.

‘
Keep going
, you dick!’ I gripped him by his
daysack strap and dragged him the last ten metres after me, tossing him against
the wall of the second building like a rag doll.

He rebounded from the wall, almost toppling to the
ground before I gripped him by the collar and held him aloft. I indicated
upward, to the numerous windows on the second storey. ‘Cover the wall!’ I
snarled.

I quickly inspected the window beside us. To my
dismay, the glass was somehow intact, though covered in cracks like a spider’s
web. Of all the windows I had chosen, it had to be the only one that had
somehow survived all the explosions and gunfire.

Just then somebody leant out from within one of the
windows above us, possibly the same man that managed to hit Puppy. I turned my
rifle upwards and fired several darts in his direction, causing him to
disappear, though I never knew if I hit him.

Discipline and survival instinct took over, and Myers
snatched up his rifle to cover. Moments later, Griffiths crashed against the
wall next to us, panting heavily.

I glanced back to where Puppy had fallen. My visor
indicated that he was a casualty, and as I watched Wildgoose reached him,
stooping down to drag him after us. It didn’t matter. What mattered was to make
the break in before we were cut down in the open.

As if to remind me of the more pressing situation, somebody
shouted from within the room beyond, and a rifle fired. Darts stitched holes
through the wall beneath the window frame less than a metre away from me.

I stood back and returned fire into the wall,
desperate not to allow our attack to fail. We were horribly exposed against the
side of the building, and seconds from being cut to pieces.

‘Griffiths!’ I hollered. ‘Smash the glass!’

Griffiths lifted his mammoth, and with one mighty
swing he smashed the glass, causing it to fall away from its frame as a single
sheet.

As the glass shattered on the floor, I tossed my
grenade through the open window, allowing it to detonate moments after. It
shook the earth beneath my feet and sent a plume of dust out from the room. Released
by the explosion, I instantly stood up and leant through the window, firing
like a madman into likely enemy positions. I then climbed over the frame,
helped over by Griffiths.

As soon as I was in the room beyond I moved clear of
the window, rifle raised and ready to fire. A man moaned pitifully on the
floor, and a silenced him with a dart to the chest.

Griffiths was next to enter the room. I didn’t have
time to ask where Myers was. I saw the opportunity that Griffiths’ mammoth
provided and I seized it.

‘Into the wall!’ I ordered, pointing frantically.
‘Fire into the wall!’

Griffiths needed no further explanation. We were the
first men to enter a building containing nothing but enemy, so everything
around us was fair game. He opened fire with his mammoth, spitting death into
the walls with indiscriminate fury. Hundreds of molecularly sharpened darts
punched through the thin masonry like paper. Though they would quickly lose
their power as they passed through the building and were unlikely to hit
anything, they provided the shock factor we needed to secure our foothold.

Using his wild burst as cover, I ran up to the only
entrance to the room, a closed door that was already riddled with holes. I
kicked the door open, causing it to smash against the wall on the opposite
side, then threw my last grenade into the corridor beyond. I then ducked out of
the way, just before it exploded. There was no plan of attack, no tactics to
speak of. The only weapon I had to bring to bear was chaos.

Suddenly a torrent of darts ripped through the
walls, spraying us with dust and flecks of masonry and causing us all to duck
even lower. The Militia were shooting through the walls, just as we were, only
they appeared to have more weapons than we had.

‘Fuck you!’ Griffiths screamed, ignoring the barrage
and continuing to fire his mammoth.

As I virtually crouched into a ball to avoid the
onslaught, I saw that Weatherall had appeared beside me, lying on the floor and
still flashing yellow.

‘Throw another grenade through the door!’ I shouted
through gritted teeth, as more plaster fragments bounced from my helmet.

‘I’ve got no grenades!’ Weatherall replied, clawing
at the ground as though he was trying to dig a hole to crawl into. His eyes
were so wide I thought they might pop out of their sockets.

I cursed. Why was I even asking him? Puppy had the
only remaining grenade. As I feared, we had run out of explosive munitions,
significantly reducing the shock factor we could have on our opponent.

‘Give me your pincushion!’ I hissed urgently.

Weatherall looked at me as though I was crazy.
‘What?’

‘Your pincushion!’ I repeated, raising my voice
above the noise of Griffiths’ mammoth.

Weatherall rolled onto his side in order to present
his daysack to me, and I rummaged inside it, quickly withdrawing the device and
activating it with a tap against its control panel.