RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5) (6 page)

I shot the man twice in the torso, not even stopping
to see if the darts had killed him. Puppy’s fire team, following on behind,
would see to anybody we left alive.

We fired blindly into the smoke as we continued up
the tunnel, no longer interested in the hostages that might be in the chamber
ahead. As the sergeant major had said, we weren’t in a counter-terrorist environment,
we were on a battlefield. We didn’t have the time or the resources to go in
soft.

A man yelped and another shrieked as our darts
struck other Guardsmen cowering in the tunnel. I caught a glimpse of a man
spinning like a top as a ricochet struck him on the shoulder, before tripping
on another man who had fallen to his knees on the floor. Molecularly sharpened
steel tore through their bodies as though they were made from paper.

Myers stepped on the back of the man on his knees,
driving the Guardsman to the ground with his boot and stepping over him.
Weatherall then grunted from behind as he drove his bayonet into the man’s
torso.

I heard the sound of Three Section’s mammoth gun as
we reached the command chamber. It took me a few seconds to spot the firing
point through the clearing smoke . . . it was a small, football-sized hole
halfway up the wall of the large cavern. The powerful magnetic weapon spewed
darts in bursts, strafing across a scrapyard of wrecked equipment that appeared
to have been tossed away from the hole. I couldn’t see who the single mammoth
gunner was firing at, presumably someone taking cover at the far end of the
chamber. Several bodies already lay scattered around us, visors shattered and
bodies bloodied and torn. They hadn’t been near to the hole that had been
blasted out, but pieces of equipment and other debris thrown across the chamber
had killed them instead.

Several Guardsmen were still on their feet, though,
staggering like the confused victims of a shuttle crash. One looked as though
he was about to raise his rifle and shoot, so Myers opened fire without
hesitation.

Seeing Myers put the first Guardsman down, I
instantly flicked my attention to the second, stepping past my comrade to get a
good shot. I fired two rounds at him, the first into his chest and the second
into his face. My visor’s thermal imaging highlighted the spray of warm blood
that spattered from the back of his helmet.

The third man was so badly concussed he didn’t pose a
threat to anyone, so Weatherall knocked him to the floor with his rifle butt.

‘Andy!’ a familiar voice shouted from within the
hole being used by the mammoth gunner. It was Corporal Stanton, Three Section’s
commander. ‘You’ve got a small pocket of enemy at the northern end of the
chamber!’

I quickly looked down at my map, confirming the
layout of the chamber. Assuming that there were no new tunnels there, it was a
dead end.

‘Any hostages there?’

‘Can’t see any!’

Myers lifted his rifle, angling it above the
scattered machinery. He looked at me and patted his underslung grenade
launcher. ‘Yeah?’

It took me a split second to come to a decision. The
tiny hole on the wall gave Three Section a vantage point from which they could
see much of the chamber. If they said there were no hostages nearby then that
was good enough for me. We needed to maintain the shock whilst we waited for
our platoon to move back around to us.

‘Yeah,’ I replied.

Myers fired instantly, his launcher lobbing a smoke
grenade over the top of the wreckage. Somebody shouted out in alarm,
milliseconds before the tiny rocket detected its target and sped downwards,
disappearing amongst the smashed computers and detonating with a blinding flash
of light. Burning phosphor showered over the chamber, creating an instant cloud
of red glowing smoke.

Somebody let out a long, agonised scream, and then
several darts cut through the smoke.

‘Shit!’ I exclaimed, ducking behind a fallen piece
of machinery as one of the rounds cracked over my head.

‘Contact front!’ somebody hollered.

Three Section’s mammoth gun increased its fire in
response, strafing through the smoke. My headset magnified the firer’s voice
over the noise as he vented his frustration. ‘Die, you fucking dick!’

Magnets screamed around me as my fire team joined
in, causing the dark cloud of smoke to flicker with light as darts ricocheted
against the far wall of the chamber.

‘Puppy!’ I called as the sound of gunfire
intensified.

‘Yeah!’ my 2ic replied.

‘Are you with us?’

‘Just behind you, mate! In the tunnel!’

‘Roger, have you–’

‘Moralee!’ another voice shouted, cutting me short.
‘Push forward! Clear the chamber!’

I looked over my shoulder. It was the sergeant major.
My visor targeting system identified him within the tunnel we had emerged from,
taking cover alongside Puppy and my Delta fire team. The entire platoon would
be somewhere behind them, which meant at least a section of troopers and two
sections of FEA in support. I knew that the sergeant major wanted me to assault
forward so that he could send them out to clear the flanking chambers as we
went.

‘Roger!’ I replied over the noise of the mammoth gun.
‘Puppy, form up on my right . . . on my smoke!’

‘Ready when you are!’ my second in command returned,
before barking orders to his fire team.

Having heard my orders, Myers stopped firing and
lifted his barrel in anticipation.

‘Myers!’ I shouted. ‘Smoke!’

‘Roger!’

The young trooper fired, sending another smoke
grenade hurtling across the chamber. This time it was unable to detect a
target, and detonated somewhere against the far wall. Intended to be used as a
means of concealment rather than an offensive weapon, the grenade wasn’t
dangerous to us even if it exploded within line of sight to us, but anyone
close by would have been showered in white hot burning metal.

I beckoned with my right arm. ‘Puppy, let’s go!’

‘Moving up!’

‘Check fire!’ I shouted to my own fire team. ‘Save
your ammo. Only engage if you’ve got something to shoot at!’

As our weapons fell silent, so did the entire
chamber. Either the Guardsmen ahead of us had died, or the fight had been
knocked out of them by the grenade - at least momentarily.

‘One Section hurry up!’ the sergeant major bellowed
from behind us.

Delta fire team rapidly fanned out on my right, and
my section quickly adjusted into an extended line that spanned the width of the
chamber. I stood up as soon as saw them take up fire positions.

‘Delta, give cover! Charlie move!’

My fire team moved first, whilst Delta observed into
the smoke. As soon as we had moved a short bound forward we then took cover
amongst the smashed computers, allowing our comrades to move back up to us. Once
Puppy’s men were back in line with my fire team, I then moved off again,
repeating the process. Some commanders might have preferred to move their
section forward as one, arguing that the covering fire team couldn’t see
further than a few metres in the smoke and so could add little protection, but
I considered it worthwhile to provide me some protection on the flanks. There
were plenty of attaching chambers either side of the cavern, each one potentially
harbouring more Guardsmen. If any of them attempted to move in behind me, Delta
fire team were likely to spot them first.

The sergeant major had obviously considered the
other chambers. I could hear orders barked and boots pounding as the remaining
sections were launched.

We passed the hole created by our plasma charge, and
I quickly flicked my section net to fully live, ensuring each trooper’s datapad
constantly transmitted his location to everyone else.

‘Stan!’ I called over the platoon net, disregarding
his call sign. ‘My lads are fully live! Confirm eyes on?’

‘We’ve got you,’ he replied straight away,
reassuring me that there was no chance of his mammoth gunner accidentally
shooting us as we advanced.

The gunner fired sporadic bursts through the smoke -
though only as a deterrent. I doubted they could see any more than we could.
The smoke still hung thickly in the air, leaving us little chance to identify a
target until we were virtually on top of it.

We clambered over heaps of upturned computer
equipment as we neared the far end of the chamber, treading carefully to avoid
something giving way beneath our feet. Weatherall fired two rounds into an
unseen target on the ground a few metres ahead of him, barely checking his
advance. Behind us somebody shouted, and more shots were fired inside one of
the smaller chambers.

The ground at the far end of the chamber was
scattered with glowing metal fragments. Amongst the wreckage lay several
Guardsmen, still smoking as pieces of phosphor continued to burn somewhere
inside their bodies.

‘This is One-One. We’ve reached the northern side of
the chamber,’ I announced over the net, scanning for threats in the swirling
cloud around me.

‘Roger, well done,’ the sergeant major answered.
‘All chambers behind you are covered. Clear your end of the command chamber and
attempt to take prisoners if possible. We’ve made enough mess here, so let’s
try to consolidate whatever we have left.’

‘Understood!’

On my right, Wildgoose found the source of the
screaming, a man who must have been beside Myers’ smoke grenade when it landed
but was unlucky enough to have survived it. Showing no pity to the horrifically
burnt Guardsman, the tall sniper kicked his rifle away from him and proceeded
to search his smouldering body for grenades or other weapons.

Suddenly my visor flashed red, indicating a man off
to my left. He staggered, as though drunk, holding his rifle down at his side.

I aimed square at his head, my finger pressing
against the trigger as I prepared to fire. ‘Stop where you are!’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Griffiths and
Myers circle the figure, slowly closing toward him as they prepared to pounce.

The figure uttered something unintelligible and then
began to lift his rifle - though not toward any of us. He was obviously stunned
by the blast, with little idea of where to aim.

‘PUT IT DOWN!’ I screamed, spittle spraying over my
visor. ‘PUT IT ON THE FUCKING GROUND!’

Suddenly alerted by the aggression in my voice and
the imminent threat of death, the Guardsman froze. That was all that Myers
needed. Having circled around to the injured Guardsman’s flank, he lurched
forward and grabbed his rifle barrel, snatching it upwards. Griffiths stepped
in behind him and struck him in the ribs with the butt of his mammoth, sending
him crashing to the ground with a painful cry. The man made as if to stand up,
but his efforts were brought to an end by a swift kick to the stomach. Overcome
with sudden rage, Griffiths kicked at the man repeatedly, causing him to curl
into a ball.

‘That’ll do, mate!’ I ordered sharply, and Griffiths
relented.

We stooped over the Guardsman, who coughed and
retched at our feet.

‘Stay the fuck down!’ Myers snarled, his bayonet
hovering inches from the man’s back.

As we crowded around our first prisoner, two rounds
were fired in quick succession, and I looked up to see Three Section sweep into
the last chamber at the north-western corner of the cavern. Their shouts echoed
as they engaged more unseen targets.

I spotted the sergeant major following on behind
them. He caught my eye as he passed, then pointed at the captured Guardsman. ‘Keep
him alive! Search him!’

I nodded, then looked back down at the Guardsman. ‘Get
into the press-up position!’

He didn’t move, probably unsure of what I wanted him
to do.

‘Get up!’ Myers shouted, gripping the Guardsman by
his webbing yoke and pulling him upward.

The prisoner attempted to stand, but the young
trooper stopped him from lifting his hands from the ground, and then kicked at
his knees until he finally got the hint and assumed the press-up position.

There are many ways to search a prisoner, but my
platoon preferred to do so whilst they were in the press-up position. It meant
that the captured soldier was unable to put up much of a fight whilst being
searched, certainly not quick enough to avoid being shot or stabbed by another
trooper. Captured enemy were never searched by anything less than two men for
that reason. Keeping our unfortunate prisoners in the press-up position also
maintained and enhanced the “shock of capture”, a mental state that often
rendered a prisoner frightened, confused and unwilling to retaliate - which was
exactly what we wanted.

Griffiths kept his mammoth trained on the Guardsman,
whilst Myers searched him roughly, stripping him of weapons, equipment, and
anything else of interest.

One of the fallen Guardsmen moaned nearby, instantly
catching my attention. I snapped my aim across to him, just as he began to
stir.

‘That one’s not dead!’ I warned.

Wildgoose and Leaman hurried across to the man and
began their own search. The Guardsman appeared to be fully conscious,
attempting to fight back as they pinned him to the ground and ripped his
weapons away from him. He couldn’t put up much of a fight, though, I could see
even through the smoke that he was badly burnt.