The Last Hero (17 page)

Bolting into the corridor, Gabriel dove flat onto the floor. The private took cover in the doorway. Wild MRG shots slammed against the wall less than ten meters ahead of them. White flakes flew into the air.

Heavy footfalls landed in between loud pops. These pops were too quiet for Bearcat rifles but grew closer and closer. Paying no attention to Gabriel’s direction, two Bearcats ran around the corner directly into his and the private’s fire. Twin bursts of ten rounds hammered the massive enemy soldiers into pieces. 

Expecting another one to appear, Gabriel almost killed one of his own men when he darted into view.

“We got the other one, Sarge,” the soldier announced.

Gabriel leapt to his feet.

“Hurry and check these doors
now
! We can’t let anyone give us away.”

Realizing time was their greatest threat of discovery, the five separated to search individually. A frenzy of movement found no enemy soldiers on either floor. The building was secure, along with the path to the heart of the base.

***

Trent squatted by the mangled Bearcat bodies. Blue blood and gore covered the walls. Placing his MRG down, he picked up an enemy weapon he’d not yet encountered. It looked like an enlarged version of a handgun with the grip centered in the middle of the barrel as opposed to the end. Rotating it around in his hands, Trent studied the device.

Gabriel walked up. “That’s new.”

“Yeah, guessing it’s only issued to non-frontline troops. What happened?” Trent asked standing.

“From what I understand, Corporal Krist and her team were checking another door when these guys came out, surprising the hell out of each other. They got one of them. The private and I took care of the rest.”

“We got lucky. It doesn’t look like they got a warning out. But we have to move fast and attack before they’re missed.” Trent walked to the stairs with hurried strides. Gabriel remained at his side. “I want another squad assigned to security here. I’m sending Captain Simms in to see if we can get anything from this tech. We rush out of this hole in twenty and bring hell with us.”
             

“No argument from me, Colonel. I want to end this thing. I have a hot date with that waitress when I get back.”

Chapter 22: All In

T
hree columns of legionnaires cautiously approached the daylight shining through the tunnel’s wide opening. Two clung to the black walls while one advanced down the middle, crawling on their bellies up the mild slope.

Moving to the border between light and darkness, the attackers paused to await the signal from the shadows.

A few centuries remained in transit, but surprise stood as a more valuable commodity in the coming battle, determining the decision to attack while it remained on their side.

The waiting charge consisted of six cohorts. The remaining forces stayed back in reserve. Upon the fateful moment, they would move to the tunnel’s mouth, ready to plug any hole or exploit any opportunity.

Trent lay motionless on the rocky floor just centimeters from the light. Before his eyes, Sweetie displayed the tac map of the enemy base. Information gathered from orbital surveillance showed nearly fifty buildings populating the walled interior.

Their square design differed greatly from the domed buildings on Big Red. The largest structures, dismissed by intelligence as warehouses, would be of little tactical value in the attack’s early stages. Suspected barracks and command and control centers ranked higher.  

General Banks held back with the reserve force to manage the battle from a secure location. Trent was more than happy to lead the primary strike in person. The anticipation of combat quickened his pulse and dried his mouth. Licking his lips, he dismissed Sweetie’s visual aid and gazed at the target zone ahead. A stiff breeze kicked up dirt. Seeing no reason to delay, he opened a link to all personnel and shouted, “
Charge
!”

The flanks poured out along the base’s high walls. He led the darting center straight out of the cavern.

Grenade blasts vibrated the dawn air, eliminating defensive turrets. Those occupying the manned positions found themselves in an unfortunate position.

The flanking columns fanned out to fight a war of attrition. They slugged it out building by building. The center contingent dashed for the enemy’s heart like a lethal knife thrust. Trent sprinted past. Pre-assigned teams of four to five squads peeled off to clear the structures. Penetrating the second layer of the buildings, he paused at a mid-sized one’s corner to take stock of the situation.

Sweetie’s sensors displayed heavy fighting on the flanks and inside the first buildings invaded. Confidant in the rightness of the calculated risk, he proceeded around the corner to the likely command center.

A door on the left flew open. Out ran a group of haphazardly equipment Bearcats. Trent didn’t falter in face of the unexpected challenge.

On pure instinct, the MRG’s trigger gracefully glided back. He unleashed an ungodly tornado of supersonic projectiles on full auto.

The Bearcats eroded away as easily as pillars of sand daring to stand before a fire hose.

Without uttering a word, forty legionnaires hurried to carry the attack indoors. Trent turned to continue the charge into the base’s heart.

***

Captain Thomas came upon the door to her assigned building. Firing a grenade at full stride, she ripped open a passage amid swirling flames and smoke. Rushing in, she discovered the large structure served as a warehouse for a wide variety of mining equipment lay in scattered pieces. She quickly determined that a few functioned as bulldozers, backhoes, and mobile drills.

Taking cover behind a lowered dirt coated drill bit, Thomas kept her eyes down range. The five squads allocated to clear the building poured through the gaping hole. Eager to score her first kill of the battle, she barked orders.

“Alpha and Bravo take left. Delta, Echo has right, and Charlie is on me at center. Let’s clear this place double time.”

She rose in preparation for an advance. Dozens of loud pops rang out in rapid succession.

Several enemy rounds clinked against the drill bit. Thomas dropped back down to her knees.   

Slipping over the safety of the drill bit, she returned fire with burst after burst. She scored no kills against the well-protected enemy. In frustration, she switched to full auto and again pulled back on the trigger unleashing a deadly stream of sweeping fire.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” She moved the barrel side to side.

An enemy round grazed the top of her right shoulder. The bullet ripped open her suit and sent her flying back onto the hard warehouse floor.

Legion and Bearcat grenades detonated all around the constant sound of countless rounds ricocheting off thick metal.

A private rushed to her side, but the superficial wound required no aid. The injury ignited a rage within Thomas.

“Get off me.” She forced the concerned private away and rose. “These fuckers just pissed me off!”

Crunching low, she brought her weapon up and replaced the grenade clip in a fluid motion.

“Grenades, Wingman,” she commanded her CAL.

The laser ranged the distance to a bulldozer and fired a round.

Baam!

Wasting no time, she shifted her attention to another positions.

Baam!

Baam!

Baam!

Baam!

The outburst of firepower cut an avenue for advance.

“Forward!” She grabbed the private by his shoulder, pulling him with her. “Let’s get in there and kill them all.”

Spraying a river of BBs for cover, Thomas and what remained of the center squad pushed into the gap. Exhausting her supply of projectiles, she knelt inside the bucket of a bulldozer. Releasing the spent clip, she slapped in a fresh one before the hollow container clanked off the metal. Spotting a Bearcat head bobbing behind a backhoe catty-corner to her, she carefully homed in, patiently holding her MRG steady. Taking slow breaths, she waited for her prey to reveal just enough of himself to seal his doom.

“Com’on,” she whispered. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty.”

The black armor and leather clad head poked up. Its piercing yellow eyes looked directly at her, but only for a brief moment. A single shot ruptured his head. A pair of legionnaires ran past. The one closest stopped in her tracks. Her body shook violently from numerous impacts. The surviving attacker dove for cover. He returned fire as he flew through the air and hit the one responsible for his fallen comrade.

Consulting her tac map, Thomas saw the enemy position collapsing. The soldiers under her command had fully exploited the lane her assault had opened. Soon, the entire warehouse was under their control.

***

The chaos of battle played out all around Trent. He stared at the suspected enemy headquarters from behind a small vehicle. Turning, he removed his attention from the target. Leaning against cover, the full scope of the carnage came into view.

A thin veil of smoke drifted over the bodies of both races dotting the common space between the buildings. The faint humming of MRGs could be heard sporadically during the short-lived lulls of the louder enemy fire and exploding grenades.

Trent studied the tac map before making the final drive. The avenue his cohorts cut through the base seemed to be holding. He deployed the vast majority of the troops under his command to ensure the knife thrust wasn’t sawed off and isolated. He returned attention to the building with extensive communication equipment on its roof.

On his order, two centuries would assault the well-defended structure. The element of surprise no longer aided their attack. The enemy troops were now ready for a fight and knew the Legion objective. The soldiers guarding the two-story building weren’t rear guard, but frontline regulars carrying their frightening rifles.

The dug in defenders waited under the warm security of their barricades. Their murderous eyes peered out onto the fifty meters of no-man’s-land. Trent dared not cross it in an exposed frontal attack. The automated torrents on the roof alone would mow them down.

I need cover.

To gain the necessary advantage, he ordered the squads clearing the buildings flanking the front of the command post to take positions on the roof.

“Monroe and Goldberg, are you in position?”

“Ready, sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

“On my word, fire every last damn grenade you have. I want the automated defenses taken out first and then lay down covering fire. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Looking right, then left, Trent took in the configuration of his century. Ten squads used whatever objects they could find: fresh rubble, small structures, and vehicles of all types, to conceal themselves.

Focusing back on the target, he shouted, “Give ‘em hell!”

Thunder rained down from the flanking rooftops. Nearly a full century spat a vicious fury upon the enemy position. So many grenades detonated that it became impossible to distinguish individual explosions. One continuous loud roar washed over the attackers and defenders alike. Smoke consumed the command post. A proper determination of the full extent of the damage was difficult, even with Sweeties’ help.  

Not wanting to blunt the edge of the confusion caused by the barrage, Trent commanded, “
Charge
!”

The ground force’s lead wave let loose with their own grenades. These were set to explode on impact. They would allow the smoke to hinder range finders.

After a few full strides, they found themselves engulfed in the fog of war.

The Bearcats opened fire.

Repeated bangs rang out from the barricades. Despite the blindness of the shots, some still found their awful marks. Human cries of pain and death blended into the sounds of war.

Legionnaires fell, but the charge didn’t falter.

A stiff breeze blew away some of the smoke. Enough for Trent to navigate into a natural break in the enemy line.

“Sweetie, highlight this nav point and send to the surrounding units to rally toward it.” He made for the hole.

Soldiers on his side disappeared, but he ran harder. An enemy grenade landed at his feet, but his legs carried him out of its range. While holding the MRG in his left hand, Trent took the sidearm into his right. Meters from the breech, he leaped head first, twisting himself in midair to land on his back.

With eyes staring straight ahead into the sky, he focused on the dual crosshairs Sweetie provided him on the visor with peripheral vision. The small crosses floated from one enemy to the next along each side of the fortifications. Trent dispatched the out-flanked enemy one by one. When enough fell to create a little distance, he switched to grenades. He didn’t have time to set the ranges and opted for “set for impact.” After unloading five grenades on the left, he dropped the sidearm. Taking the MRG in both hands, he exhausted the rest of the grenades on the right. Finishing the roll, he jumped to his feet.

Dozens of legionnaires flowed past him into the shattered defenses. The tantalizing taste of pending victory settled seductively on his tongue. The wicked, sinful sensation brought an evil grin to his face.

***

At the back of the warehouse, Thomas discovered a housing complex for the mineworkers her team had eliminated. When a hasty sweep uncovered no more enemy troops, she sent a squad out the entrance of her creation and led the other four squads out of the living area to rejoin the fight.      

The morning sun bathed her as she carefully crept out. The door led to a recreation area. It resembled a basketball court, but instead of the hoops hanging parallel to the ground, they stood on their side.

Gunfire and grenade blasts met her ears from all directions. The commotion confused her on which direction to direct her next efforts. She was about to bring up the tac map when Sergeant Roth came over the com-link.

“Captain! Captain Thomas, do you read me? My HUD says you’re nearby.”

Taking a knee by the warehouse’s corner, she answered back.

“I read you, Sergeant. Go ahead.”

“I…I’m trapped,” Roth said short of breath. “My squad was ambushed. They’re all dead...everyone is gone.
Gone
!”

“Take it easy, Roth. I’m on my way. Hold tight and stay alive.”

Roth replied, “They’re all dead. I got them killed. I got them all killed.”

“Hang in there dam’it! Wingman, set nav point on Sergeant Roth. Move out.” Thomas stood up, pointing to her left. “She’s on the other side of that building.”

The soldiers moved with brisk but cautious steps toward their comrade. Shots chipped at the pavement under their boots as they crossed the street. Shrapnel peppered their legs with tiny fragments. Within seconds, the relief force walked along the wall of the barracks separating them from Roth. The heavy shots of numerous Bearcat rifles pounded the air. Slowly moving to the corner, Thomas slipped her barrel around to survey the situation.

A dozen or so enemy troops embedded in a decorative rock garden to the far right and more from inside the building threw round after round at the bucket of a dump truck. The misses clanked loudly against the solid metal frame. A lone MRG barrel periodically appeared over the rim of the bucket to offer stubborn defiance. The tattered corpses of nearly two full squads of legionnaires lay dead around the truck.