Homeworld: A Military Science Fiction Novel (27 page)

With the aid of Ben’s thermal imaging glasses and the trained ability of the two men, they easily avoided the Coalition’s patrols. They slapped the putty like substance that was Ben’s homemade cocktail of explosive on the infrastructure of the first building so that it would fall in such a way as to crush a good portion of Coalition infantry.

Miller asked Drake over their non-vocal com, “Do you think this will actually work?” as he pushed in a blasting cap and rigged a remote detonator.

“You would ask that after seeing all that wunderkind back there can do?” Drake asked in return. “You should be glad that he was born in the Republic, otherwise, after he had taken his aptitude test the Coalition would have been mining his brain for ideas long ago. Which would mean that the ships of the armada above would be armed with creation only knows and armored in the same manner. If we all survive this, you really should put him in charge of the Republic’s research and development department.”

“I will take that under advisement and do my best bureaucratic wrangling to see that it happens. Now should we give that fellow’s head a new hole or just sneak around him?” Miller asked as he pointed out the sniper whose line of fire was blocking off access to their next building.

Drake quickly unslung his rifle and took aim in one fluid motion before squeezing the trigger on his silenced weapon. The shot’s aim was true and there was one less Coalition sniper on Earth. “There was no time to sneak around him but we had better hoof it because I’d imagine they’re a bit more formal about checking in so close to their battle group.” Miller was already running for the stairs on the balls of his feet making as little noise as he could and Drake quickly followed.

Sneaking around in broad daylight is a heck of a lot harder than it is when the cover of night gives you plenty of shadows to hide in. At times, they were forced to walk casually across the street with Miller’s Infantry armor blocked from a Coalition patrol’s view by Drake’s Coalition issue as they walked in lockstep side by side. So far, by sticking to the alleys and staying off the main roads, it had worked and they had only eliminated two sentries including the sniper they had just sent to the beyond. However, it wouldn’t be long before someone went to check on those positions and noticed the bodies and then their job would get just a touch more interesting.

As they raced up the stairs of the second building that looked like it had once been office space, Miller said a silent thank you to Ben for the gift of the thermal glasses that allowed them to make much better time because they did not have to carefully sweep each corner as they made their way up the building.

Drake slapped on the putty of death this time and quickly rigged a detonator. Miller wondered, as he kept watch, if there was a way to kill or destroy that this man hadn’t mastered long ago. “That’s number two. Now to get to our third and final objective, we can either walk casually by a company of tanks or go with option two,” Drake said as he pulled out his hand held vid and brought up plans of the subterranean maze of pipes and wires that made up a city’s guts.

“We enter here and then belly crawl to here,” Drake said pointing out a sewer maintenance shaft behind the building they were currently in. “It’s a tight fit so we’ll probably have to leave our rifles and packs hidden somewhere. Then we rig the explosive right here which should be more than close enough for it to set the methane in the vents off.”

Miller nodded, “Let’s do it then.” He didn’t like the idea of leaving his rifle or his pack but Drake was right they would not fit other wise and he would still have his side arm and knife if trouble came for them down in the sewers. Not that he knew what kind of trouble would be in a maintenance shaft right now, giant rats and cockroaches? Now there was an enemy he could defeat without fear or hesitation, Miller thought, grinning as they made their way down to the access grate.

Soon they found themselves crawling on hands and knees. The maintenance shaft thankfully was one meter tall and one meter wide. Rather than stow their gear and risk losing it, they were pushing and or carrying it ahead of them. As Miller reached into his pack for the final explosive charges, he heard someone call out, “Who’s there?” Miller’s head snapped in the direction that the sound had come from and saw through his thermal lenses a human silhouette, and based on the way he or she was holding their arms and the blank spot on his thermal vision across the person’s chest, it was someone carrying a rifle of some sort.

Miller thought quickly and called back, “Two friends of the Republic. Who is asking?” As he gestured to Drake to lower the sidearm, he had raised. “Friends of the republic, is it? Then may I ask why one of you is wearing a colonel’s armor and the other Coalition made stuff?”

The voice clearly sounded female and Miller guessed it belonged to someone in their early twenties. “You clearly know these sewers better than we do, if you managed to get close enough to us to ascertain all that. He’s wearing Coalition colors so we could slip past the enemy above easier. How many are hiding out down here? Because I suggest you move your group about a kilometer away as there is about to be a loud boom that could cause a lot of these passages to collapse,” Miller said quickly and calmly his hand resting on the grip of his holstered sidearm.

The female kept herself behind cover as she said, “A small community is down here. We go up when we can and pick off a few Coalitionists while we look for food and what not. What’s your plan after you set off the explosives? Is it just plain and simple sabotage or part of something bigger?

“Give me your former rank and serial number and I’ll tell you,” Miller said, knowing he could check his vid quickly to identify if he was actually talking to a member of the Republic, as that information was something almost no one ever forgot.

“Never had a rank and I don’t have any serial number. Compulsory service doesn’t start until you’re eighteen and I’m not quite there yet. I can tell you my name is Rachel Rizol and my education center idea is A1557D and so is my locker combination. Does that help you any, Colonel?” The voice carried a hint of impatience as Rachel continued. “I imagine you’re in a hurry to do what needs doing, so just tell me your plan and I’ll get back to my people and tell them it. Maybe we can do more than run away. We’ve got rifles and a few grenades, and every one of us down here has reason enough to draw Coalition blood.”

Miller thought about it and realizing that even if this voice he was talking to was a member of the Coalition and immediately warned the troops gathered overhead, they could still set off their charges in time. However, the price would be a high one to pay. Miller took the gamble as he slapped the plastic explosives on the roof of the maintenance shaft above him and began to rig the detonator. “The plan is to collapse a couple of buildings on the troops gathered above and then blow the methane in the vent above us. Then what’s left of the battalion from Alpha Base will retake the spaceport and try to hold it while we launch the old Earth to orbit missiles in an attempt to help the Republic Fleet ships fighting the Coalition Armada as we speak.” He finished explaining as he armed the remote detonator. Looking back at Drake, he saw that he had the detonation device in his hand and simply nodded back at Miller as he flipped up the safety cover and prepared to detonate the explosives based on what the voice said next.

“There’s no need to go blowing us all to the beyond, Colonel. I’m no Coalitionist so you can tell your friend there to ease up on the button.” Drake looked behind them and realized that the second person telling Rachel this information must be blocked from his thermal sensors by the steam pipe near the side passage they had passed. “Clever,” thought Drake but he didn’t take his thumb off the detonator.

“I can tell you two are the nervous martyr type. Tell you what, we’ll back off and go warn our people of your plan and we’ll even come along from the behind and help once the fireworks start. How does that sound to you two?” Rachel asked

“Sounds like you’re the brash suicidal type,” Miller retorted “If you come up behind the Coalition unarmored you’ll be so much fertilizer on the pavement before you can do enough damage to justify the cost.” Miller let out a heavy sigh and continued, “Under normal conditions I would never ask this but why don’t you find a couple of empty buildings behind their position and rain down hell on them from there once you see the explosions. Place something red like a shirt or blanket or something out the top story windows facing the spaceport so we’ll know that’s where you are and not accidentally send any artillery rounds your way. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a far better way to spill the blood of the Coalitionists to me. I see they don’t make people colonels just because they look handsome. Now we’re going to scurry off back to our own. How long do we have to move?” Rachel asked.

“How long do you need?” Miller responded

“Twenty minutes should be plenty of time to get our folks out of harm’s way and another fifteen after that to get set up in the buildings. Do we have that much time?” Rachel inquired

“Barely, now we both better move,” Miller said as he saw the girl’s thermal image set off at a fast pace down the passage.

Drake said on their non-vocal, “I guarantee you would never see a Coalition civilian fight the way you Republicans do. Not unless they were conscripted at gunpoint. Perhaps there is something to your way of doing things after all.”

Miller grinned in the dark and responded aloud, “That’s why we keep doing it this way, voluntarily. Now we better move.”

Last Minute Strategizing

Ben sat in the driver’s seat of the Bowman anxiously scanning for any sign of Miller or Drake on his Virtual Array. They had been gone for what seemed like an eternity now. The sergeant major said a silent prayer that they hadn’t been killed or captured, because that would mean this whole plan would have to be either scrapped. Or it would turn into one hell of a bloody last stand for what remained of his battalion and the civilian volunteers that were even now moving in small groups to rejoin forces near the spaceport.

He jumped as the voice of Colonel Miller came over the Bowman’s com system, “Hey Ben, mind opening up?”

Ben spun his Virtual Array to look directly behind the Bowman and saw Miller and Drake waving at him with big grins on their faces. Ben opened the ramp as he said to the two men who quickly climbed on board, “Fine time to go pulling jokes. You two had me worried half to death. How did you sneak by me anyway?” Then a smell hit his nose like a freight train.

Ben closed the ramp and started the vehicle moving as he said, “There goes the new armored fighting vehicle smell. I suppose crawling through the sewers is one way of avoiding Coalition patrols,” he said as Miller strapped into the seat next to him and Drake took his place in the cupola.

“It wasn’t fun and I’d like to shower for about a month but it worked. Now we’d best hurry to the rendezvous point and inform Admiral Clarkson of our success. The troops should be almost all assembled by now and we made some new friends while we were down there,” Miller said as Ben punched the accelerator. The inertial dampeners kept him from feeling the force of the vehicles acceleration. However, he could tell by the way that the scenery was flying on the V.A. that Ben was testing, just how fast his “truck” could go on the straightaway. They raced through the city streets in a mad dash to get to Clarkson to let him know that the plan was in place and ready to be put into action.

As they drew closer to where their forces were supposed to be, Ben sent a message via a secure line to Admiral Clarkson. In it, he requested that none of the Republic loyalists assembled would start shooting once they saw a strange wheeled vehicle rolling in as it would be Colonel Miller, Drake, and himself coming in and he’d hate to see his vehicle damaged before the oncoming conflict. Ben also transmitted an image of his truck to the admiral to which the admiral had sent a short response text response, “Hell of a truck you have there, sergeant major!”

In addition, while they were en route Colonel Miller sent an information burst containing the possibility of a civilian volunteer unit of unknown size that was behind the enemy position. He also requested that all units be notified that there were friendlies in buildings that had something red hanging out the top-level windows.

The Bowman passed through the Republic patrol lines with no problem and soon found the admiral in the forward headquarters of what remained of the Earth Republic Infantry. The H.Q. turned out to be a relatively untouched transit repair shop. Ben pulled the Bowman into the parking lot of the old and weathered plasticrete building and all three exited to the vehicle to report to the admiral.

They found him inside a field lamp illuminated building around a makeshift table consisting of several workbenches that had been put together. Someone had assembled a rough model of what was soon going to be the field of battle using cardboard boxes and gaskets of various colors to represent known enemy and ally positions.

Admiral Clarkson was standing on his feet and looking much better than the last time they had seen him. The color had returned to his face and he paced around the table studying it as if he was reading a book. “Well, men, mission accomplished, I take it?” The admiral asked, not taking his eyes off the table.

Miller answered, “Affirmative, sir, the explosives have been placed and rigged to detonate at your order. Is everything in order here?” Clarkson looked up and said, “As well as can be expected. All units including the volunteers have reported in. We have plenty of ammo and weapons, and good men and women to use them, but I don’t see this happening without heavy losses, losses that we can’t afford if we’re going to hold the spaceport long enough to launch those missiles”

“What’s your plan then?” Drake asked bluntly. “Maybe a different set of eyes could help reduce the casualties.”

Clarkson nodded, “Maybe it would at that. So here it is, gentleman. I plan on sending in the active duty Infantry in first as they are better armored. They will act as a human wave until they reach the spaceport and assuming the coalition hasn’t rigged the whole damn place to blow up, they will sweep through it while being covered by mortar and rifle fire from the civilian reserves. Once the explosions have gone off, they will take to the roofs of the building closest to the spaceport and use their elevated position to rain down as much firepower as they can muster. Once the infantry take the port, two platoons will remain inside and use the wall facing the enemy as cover as they lay down fire at the incoming units. The rest of the Infantry will then sweep the side of the spaceport’s wall out to both sides and form a v formation as they advance on what enemy remains. Once the port is taken, the civilian forces will move in to occupy it to support the Infantry already there. Drake, I’d like you with the Infantry who will hold the spaceport. Miller, you’ll be commanding the units who are going to charge the gates of hell armed only with squirt guns. Well, gentlemen, that’s my plan of attack. What didn’t I see or where did I go wrong?”

As he finished explaining his strategy, the admiral took a seat near the table and took a long drink of water from his canteen. Ben had a grin on his face as he looked at Miller. “Do you mind if I tell him, sir?” Colonel Miller chuckled and said, “Not at all, sergeant major, it’s your invention after all.” Clarkson looked at Ben and asked, “What miracle have you managed to pull out of the sky this time, Ben?”

Ben pointed behind him to the front of the Bowman whose front was just barely visible through a grime-smudged window. “Well, sir, I have been tinkering over these last several years and have created the vehicle I sent you a picture of. It is well armed and well armored and I freely make it available to you. I think it will serve you well once the men have taken the spaceport. Let me and the Bowman take the lead and have the infantry use me for cover from enemy fire as we advance on their line. If I am destroyed or disabled, at least I will have gotten the men closer to their objective than they otherwise would have gotten.”

Miller placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder and said quietly, “I’m afraid you won’t be behind the controls this time, Ben. Your miracle working will be needed somewhere else. There are still some defensive guns around the port that, if you could get back online, would give us a great advantage both in this battle and the one to come. Can I borrow the Bowman? I promise to return her with a full tank or you can take it out of my pay.” Ben smiled and said, “The keys are in the ignition, sir. Just try to bring her back.”

Clarkson nodded and said, “Okay, we’ll call that part of the overall strategy. What else have I missed?

Drake finished lighting a cigarette and handed the pack to Miller when he said, “The opportunity to confuse the enemy. When those buildings collapse, you can have no doubt they will be surprised and perhaps shocked by their losses. They will take many casualties from that initial attack alone, both in manpower and in armor if that huge pipe bomb of a vent blows up properly the explosion will be directed towards the least armored part of the tanks hopefully taking a few or all of them out of the fight. That explosion was the signal Miller gave the friends we met in the sewers to open fire. While they are attacking the enemy, we may get them to turn to meet the attack thinking that it is coming from behind them. Then we follow the rest of your plan.”

Miller choked and coughed on the cigarette he had just inhaled a lung full of smoke from. Once he was done, he looked at Drake with a shocked expression. “We don’t know how many there are. They could all be killed!” Drake turned to Miller with a blank expression and said, “Isn’t that the risk we are all about to take? If they weren’t up to the risks, they wouldn’t have volunteered for the job. Besides, the explosion is also when we start to move. I’m just asking that we wait about ten seconds before we start opening fire. That will confuse and disorient the enemy if the buildings falling on them haven’t done that already. This battle will not be easy, Miller. There will be many casualties. I’m just trying to reduce them using the only opportunity that has presented itself.”

Miller shook his head slowly as he looked Drake in the eye and said, “I can’t disagree that it is a good plan, but their deaths will be on my conscience for the rest of my days. However, if we are to achieve victory, I am willing to carry that burden.”

“Alright, we’ll add that the plan of attack, but I want those volunteers given fire support as soon as possible,” Clarkson said. “Does anyone else have something to add?” When no response came from the three men assembled, the admiral said, “Right, then it’s almost time to take that spaceport. There are just two things left to do.”

Clarkson stood and walked in front of the three men and stood before them looking every inch the tired old man he was but there was a fire in his eye and his squared jaw was determined as he said, “Miller, I’ll be in that Bowman with you and I will not listen to any objection. I will fight beside my fellow citizens in this our last offensive. I’ll have Ben show me how to work this new weapon system of his and then I have just one thing left to do. Gentlemen, thank you all for your contributions and your service, dismissed.”

Admiral Clarkson followed Ben out of the headquarters and asked him, “So tell me about your new invention?” As Drake set out to take up his position with the Republic Infantry, he chuckled, knowing that the admiral was in for a long explanation.

As Drake entered one of the assembly areas of the Infantrymen designated to take the spaceport, the quiet voices he had heard from outside were suddenly silenced. It seemed as if all eyes in the large hotel lobby were focused on him. Then a solitary voice called out,

“So you’re the one we’ve heard so much about.” A tall, lean, brown-skinned Infantryman with about a week’s worth of red whiskers showing on his angular face asked this as he moved to stand directly in front of Drake.

“That’s hard to say as I don’t know what you’ve heard,” Drake said, assessing the man and noticing his rank insignia on his battle scarred but oddly freshly painted armor and finished with “captain.” “They tell me that you were the best killing machine the Coalition has ever had and then for some reason, you just started killing Coalitionists and saving the asses of Republic Infantry. Then you twice went behind enemy lines with Colonel Miller to assess the enemy and prepare a little surprise for them. Is that all true?” The captain asked.

“Yes. That would be true,” Drake answered wondering if there was going to be a problem as he looked around the room at the roughly one hundred or so Infantrymen in the rubble-strewn remains of what must have been the grand entrance to an opulent hotel. He was good but he wasn’t good enough to clear this crowd by himself.

A smile broke across the captain’s face as he offered his hand to Drake who promptly shook it. “Well that’s good to hear, Drake. My name’s Faringo and I think your armor is going to be a problem.” The captain turned and barked, “Sergeant Wells!” A man rushed forward, saluted the captain, and said in a gravelly voice “Sir?” Faringo pointed at Drake and said, “Get this man painted up proper. We don’t want any of our own mistaking him for an enemy.” Faringo turned to Drake and asked, “That is if you don’t mind?” By answer, Drake just shook his head and said, “Nope, don’t mind at all.”

Within minutes after he had stripped off his armor in what looked to be a cocktail lounge just off the main lobby, Sergeant Wells had changed the pattern and color with an auto sprayer that looked like an invention Ben might make. It consisted of several small cans of adhesive paints with a small hose running out of each into a small reservoir with what looked like a garden hose nozzle attached to the end. Attached to the hose, just before the nozzle, was a handheld vid that the sergeant tapped a few buttons on and then paint began spraying out of the nozzle. Within minutes, his armor had been painted in standard Earth Republic Infantry colors. On the chest plate and the shoulders, where rank insignia would usually go, the sergeant painted a golden-scaled dragon.

As Drake put on his newly painted and already dry armor, his mind wandered to how many men and women he had killed wearing these colors. Well, he might not be able to stop war altogether but maybe just maybe he could stop the killing here. He was so tired of killing and just wished it would stop but unfortunately, he was very good at what he did and unfortunately, there was a great need for his services just now.

Ben walked into the room wearing Infantry armor with a P-200 slung over his shoulder. Both looked like they had been “tinkered” with. Drake could only imagine what he had done to them but Drake hoped it would keep him alive. “You’re looking sharp, Drake. Is your com on? The admiral is about to deliver a speech and then we’ll get this attack underway.”

Drake double-checked that his com was set to the main Infantry channel but he needn’t have bothered, Drake had a tendency to listen to a single channel in his right ear while scanning through all other channels in his left. This had saved his bacon more than once in that it allowed him to keep track of the overall tactical situation. The signal that was coming through was coming over all Republic frequencies. Drake surmised that one or more of the Fleet ships above was rebroadcasting the message planet wide. He smiled as he heard the ancient boatswain's call for “Word to be Passed” sound in his ear. To most of those assembled here, it would just be a loud whistle but he had spent his time on enough ships to recognize the command for silence as an order was coming down.