The Kurgan War: First Strike Part 23

At precisely 0800 hours the next day, General Gruber's aide escorted Sheridan and Cole into his office. The general stood by a map on the wall, carefully studying it. The aide announced that Sheridan and Cole were present. Gruber dismissed the officer and asked his guests to join him by the map.

Sheridan could see all of the Marines and the known enemy positions marked on the map. The Kurgan had acted doctrinal to date; therefore, it had been easy for the intelligence staff to plot their expected locations on the map.

"Gents, in about four days' time, I'm going to need to be able to speak with all of my units and with anyone in orbit above us," announced the general.

Sheridan and Cole exchanged a look of surprise.

"That's right gents, help is on the way. You, however, are forbidden to repeat that to anyone outside of this room. The problem is that the enemy won't let me talk to anyone, so I need someone to go outside of the capital, find and destroy the Kurgans' jamming station. My intelligence folks think that it's located here near the rear of the Kurgan administrative echelon forces." Gruber pointed to a spot on the map at least thirty kilometers from the city.

Sheridan leaned forward to study the map. They had walked within a few kilometers of the site when they were trying to reach the capital.

Gruber continued. "Obviously, you can't do this all on your own, so I'm going to provide you with a platoon from the newly arrived Marine battalion. They're fresh and are spoiling for a fight."

Sheridan said, "Sir, a platoon moving around outside the city is going to be spotted far too easily. We'll need to split up into four-man teams in order to move through the refugee camps as un.o.btrusively as possible. All I need are sixteen volunteers to get this done."

"Son, I'm not finished. I also want you to escort a Fire Effects Officer and an Aeros.p.a.ce Controller to a safe location where they can see the bulk of the Kurgan forces. I was thinking that these high grounds to the west look good."

At the academy, Sheridan had been taught that a Fire Effects Officer could control and coordinate the fire from a mortar all the way up to a battles.h.i.+p in orbit high above the planet. The Aeros.p.a.ce Controller would be responsible to bring in the landing s.h.i.+ps and fighter-bombers from the approaching fleet. Sheridan stepped forward and studied the positions the general had picked. They were on the route he would have to use to get to the jamming station. "Sir, this means that I need six more volunteers for a total of twenty-two. Anything more than that and we'll be spotted for sure."

"I think you may be selling yourself short, but it's your call, son."

Cole spoke up. "Sir, I have to agree with Mister Sheridan, it's unfriendly territory out there. Too many new faces moving about will make people suspicious."

Gruber nodded his head. It was done. "Gents, I'll make sure you get the best soldiers I can get my hands on."

"Sir, please make sure we get some women," added Cole. "In my experience, women refugees tend to open up to other women more than a bunch of strange men who walk into their camp and start asking questions."

"That's a good point," agreed Sheridan.

"Ok, I'll make it happen. Anything else?" asked Gruber. Both men shook their heads. "Well, if that's it, I'll hand you two off to the intelligence staff again. They'll give you all the details you'll need to pull this off." With that, he shook their hands and dismissed the two Marines. "Good luck to you. An awful lot of people are counting on you to end the Kurgan's ability to jam all of our comms."

Outside the room, Cole turned to Sheridan. "No pressure, sir. All they want us to do is stroll thirty klicks through enemy territory, find a jamming station, which is probably guarded by at least a platoon of Chosen warriors, blow it up and then get out of there without being killed. I think I just won my case of Scotch."

"Yeah, you may have," said Sheridan.

Eight hours later, in the bas.e.m.e.nt of an abandoned house, Sheridan stood over a model on the floor of the ground they were going to have to move across. He, like everyone there, had changed into civilian clothing. Some carried their uniforms in their small packs to be put on later while others brought Chosen winter white coveralls. All carried Kurgan small arms taken from the dead. Sheridan looked into the eyes of the men and women who had volunteered to come with him. They all looked incredibly young to him. Although only twenty-two, Sheridan felt old compared to the sea of eighteen-year-old faces looking up at him. "Ok folk, listen up, first off, I want to thank you all for volunteering for this dangerous a.s.signment. Secondly, and this isn't a dig at your officers and NCOs, but you don't know c.r.a.p. It's a different world outside of the capital. It's a lawless environment in which refugees, collaborators, black-marketers and Chosen soldiers interact."

He paused for a moment. No one said a word. Sheridan pointed down at his model. "Marines, this is what I want to happen..." For the next two hours, Sheridan briefed and then quizzed his people on what they were going to do. Once he was satisfied that they understood their jobs, he broke them down into their teams. Garcia was going to lead a group escorting the Fire Effects Officer and Roberts' group would look after the Aeros.p.a.ce Controller. Sheridan's a.s.sault force was broken down into four groups of four. He and Cole would travel together through the refugee camps trying to learn what they could about the jamming station. The remainder would take a longer route through the woods trying to avoid any contact whatsoever with the refugees and the enemy. They would all rendezvous at a spot near the jamming station in a few days' time.

Cole walked over by Sheridan. "Sir, that was a good set of orders, I don't think you missed a thing. However, time is slipping by, and we'll need to get moving in the next thirty minutes if we're going to meet your timings."

Sheridan glanced down at his watch. He was surprised how fast things were proceeding. "Ok, Sergeant, let's get to work."

Hidden in the darkened tunnel's exit, Sheridan looked out at the falling snow and smiled. At least the weather was cooperating. Their initial moves would be un.o.bserved. He turned and whispered to Cole, "First team up."

Garcia moved up beside Sheridan. He shook her hand and wished her luck. "See you back at the bunker, sir," said Garcia. With a wave of her hand, she led her team out of the tunnel. Within seconds, they were lost from sight. Roberts was up next. Five minutes later, he shook Sheridan's hand and with Tammy by his side, Roberts and his group stepped off on their journey. At five-minute intervals, all of the teams departed leaving Sheridan and Cole alone in the tunnel.

"In for a penny, in for a pound," said Sheridan as he stepped out into the night. He pulled up the collar on his jacket to stop the swirling snow from going down the back of his neck. Cole, with his hands jammed deep into his coat's pockets, walked beside Sheridan, neither man saying a word. Behind them, the heavy metal grate was closed and locked by a couple of MPs.

Sheridan and his people were on their own again.

Chapter 37.

Admiral Sheridan welcomed his last strike force commander to arrive on board his flags.h.i.+p. He then took center stage directly in front of a large screen. Under his command for the liberation of Derra-5 were three strike forces, each one built around a fighter carrier and all of its accompanying fighting and support vessels. In total, he would be leading over one hundred and fifty s.h.i.+ps into battle.

Admiral Sheridan knew the people in the room represented some the finest officers and master chief petty officers that he had ever served with. He was proud of them all. He cleared his throat and began. "Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come for us to strike back at the enemy. All across the frontier our forces have been pushed back. Well, that all ends today. Until now, I have deliberately kept you in the dark as to the real location for our first engagement with the enemy. Some of you may have heard that we are to spearhead an a.s.sault on Illum Prime. That, however, is nothing more than a smokescreen to confuse the enemy. Our objective is Derra-5."

An image of the planet and the Kurgan fleet appeared on a ma.s.sive screen behind him.

He continued. "Information provided to us indicates that the enemy has two carriers, ten cruisers, and three destroyers as his princ.i.p.al fighting force. There are also dozens of other smaller support vessels in orbit above the planet. When our force ratios are compared, we will have a three to two advantage in combat power."

A slender, blonde-haired rear admiral leaned forward so she could be seen. "Sir, those are good odds; however, is there any way we could shave those odds down a little before we go toe to toe with the enemy?"

"Helen, there are and it will all become clear when Captain Killam, my operations officer, presents our plan of attack. I have named this mission Operation Hammer."

Killam, a red-headed man with pockmarked skin on his face stood up, moved over to the lectern and began his presentation. He spoke for nearly an hour; when he was done, he asked if anyone had any questions. Aside from General Denisov, the ground force commander, forcefully reminding everyone to keep the enemy away from his landing craft, there was no discussion about the plan.

Admiral Sheridan thanked Killam and walked back to the front of the briefing room. "Folks, this is not to be shared with anyone but your immediate staff and your s.h.i.+ps' captains. The enemy has people spread throughout the fleet. If just one of them discovered what we were up to, it could mean the difference between victory and defeat."

For some, it was the first time they had heard about the Kurgan infiltration of the fleet, for others it was confirmation of their suspicions.

"Before you leave here, I want you all to know that I have ordered the removal of a small number of officers and ratings from some of your s.h.i.+ps."

"Why did you do that, sir?" queried an officer.

"Using the database in the fleet's archives, my chief medical officer has been able to access the medical records of all of the settlers who were reported missing at the end of the last war. Comparing the records of the settlers with those of personnel serving in the Sixth Fleet, he was been able to identify twenty-three possible matches. I have given orders for these people to be quietly relieved of their duties and to be removed from the fleet, post haste."

"Surely, this can't be a foolproof method," objected the blonde-haired admiral. "Using one hundred-year-old records is problematic at best."

"That is why I ordered this to be done discreetly. As far as these people's co-workers are concerned, they have been recalled to Earth for urgent medical or personal reasons. If the screening turns out to be false, I will personally apologize to each and every person we have detained. I'd rather be forced to eat crow at a later date than risk losing a single s.h.i.+p to sabotage."

"Has Admiral Os.h.i.+ro been informed?" asked another officer.

Admiral Sheridan nodded his head. "He gave me permission to remove the people from their duty stations and to have them sent back to Earth for questioning. In the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, this process will be repeated throughout the entire fleet."

A tough-looking Master Chief asked, "Admiral, can we have the names of the people you have had detained?"

"Yes. However, I will only provide you with the names of people removed from your s.h.i.+ps or Marine units. If I am wrong, I don't want these people's reputations being needlessly tarnished. My aide, Commander Roy, has the names. Please see her on your way out and she will provide you with the names."

With that, the meeting ended. Admiral Sheridan watched as his strike force commanders were told who had been removed from their s.h.i.+ps. Some shook their heads sadly as if personally betrayed by the actions of the men and women under their command. Others took the information in and quietly carried on.

General Denisov walked over beside Admiral Sheridan. "Lucky for me, First Armored Division was scheduled for live fire maneuvers when this mission came up. They are already on board their landing craft and will be here in the next five hours. Third Mechanised, an army formation, was cut to my command for the operation. However, it won't arrive until six hours after we land on Derra-5. If the enemy has been as battered as we have been led to believe, then two full-strength divisions should be enough. For now, I'm planning to keep the Third Marine Division in reserve."

"Sounds good, Dimitri," said Admiral Sheridan distractedly. His mind was elsewhere. He prayed that the general was right. His only son was down there fighting for his life. The sooner they struck, the better as far as he was concerned.

Chapter 38.

A gray sliver of light crept up on the eastern horizon signaling an end to the long, cold night.

Sheridan stamped his feet on the frozen ground trying to get the circulation back into his feet. He raised his arms above his head and stretched out his aching back. He was about to say something to Cole when he heard a deep growl coming from the snow-covered bushes in front of them. His heart began to race. He slowly, lowered his arms, drew his pistol and pointed it at the woods.

Cole also heard the noise and pulled out his weapon. Carefully, the two men stepped forward. They had barely stepped inside the bushes when they saw where the sound was coming from. Both men froze in their tracks when they saw a small bear and her cubs gnawing on the remains of a Chosen soldier.

"Step back, slowly," whispered Cole. "Whatever you do don't turn your back and run. The mother will be on you before you get ten meters."

They moved back into the open, turned on their heels and walked as far away as they dared from the bears before breaking into a sprint. They ran for a couple of kilometers before stopping.

Sheridan said between gasps of air, "They must be attracted by the smell of blood and the prospect of an easy meal."

"Horrible way to go," added Cole.

An hour later, they made their way to Eve's camp. However, when they arrived, they couldn't find a soul. Eerily all of the dilapidated homes they had built were empty. They didn't see any signs of a struggle. It was as if they had all decided to leave together. Cole started a bonfire to keep them from freezing to death.

"I take the absence of gunfire coming from the woods as a good sign," said Sheridan. "It looks like everyone got away without being spotted."

"It's early days," retorted Cole. "We still have another thirty-six or so hours until we link up with them again. A lot can happen between now and then."

"So what do you say to some Chosen rations for breakfast?"

"I'd rather not, the stuff upsets my stomach. However, I guess my options are limited out here."

Sheridan dug into a jacket pocket and pulled out two foil packets. He read the label. "Looks like we're going to have some kind of granola and fruit mix for breakfast."

"I doubt that even they could mess that up," replied Cole, taking a packet and ripping it open. He took a bite and made a sour expression on his face. "I stand corrected. It's G.o.d d.a.m.n awful!"

Sheridan didn't mind the taste. He stepped away from the fire, looking for a spot to relieve himself. He had barely gone ten paces into the woods, when he stopped in his tracks. Before him was the most gruesome sight he had ever seen in his life. All of the refugees from the camp were hanging by their necks from the trees like macabre ornaments, their frozen bodies covered in snow and ice. Sheridan's head began to spin. He staggered forward, moving from person to person until he found Eve. "No," he moaned when he saw her lifeless eyes staring back at him. He suddenly felt guilty and ashamed. His actions had placed her and all of her friends in harm's way. A second later, he let out a scream at the top of his lungs.

A hand touched Sheridan's back. "It's ok to be angry, sir. I'm p.i.s.sed too. Take a couple of deep breaths and you'll soon start to feel better," rea.s.sured Cole.

"We did this. We're responsible for getting Eve and everyone else killed," Sheridan said.

"No, no you didn't. The enemy did this and they'll pay for what they have done. She knew the risks involved in helping us, but she helped us anyway. She was a brave woman who didn't deserve to die like this, none of them did," Cole said, looking over at the corpses.

Sheridan looked up at Cole. Anger burnt in his eyes. "Andrews is to blame. I just know it."

"We left him tied to a tree, naked."

Sheridan stood. "I want to see the son of a b.i.t.c.h's body."

After making their way back through the woods, both men stood there staring at the tree Cole had tied Andrews to. There was nothing. The man had either escaped or his remains had been removed by his comrades. There was no way to know for sure. However, in Sheridan's mind, he knew Andrews was still alive and he intended to make him pay with his life the next time their paths crossed.

"Come on, sir, there's nothing to be gained by staying here. We've got a long way to go today."

Sheridan ground his teeth in anger, nodded his head and with a burning desire for revenge in his heart he followed Cole back out to their fire. Now the refugee camp felt like a ghost town. Neither man wanted to linger. They quickly extinguished their fire, slung their packs onto their backs and continued on their journey. They trudged along the wood line, always keeping one eye trained out towards the Kurgan lines.

An hour into their march, Cole tapped Sheridan on the shoulder and told him to step into the woods. They took cover behind a tall fir tree.

"What did you see?" Sheridan asked.

"That," replied Cole, pointing at a large truck that had stopped by an open pit dug into the frozen ground.

Sheridan dug out his binoculars and looked over at the vehicle. He could make out Chosen soldiers keeping a close eye on several refugees as they climbed up into the back of the truck. Frozen solid Chosen dead were soon unceremoniously tossed from the back of the vehicle. When there were no more bodies, a Chosen warrior walked to the edge of the hole and threw a thermite grenade down onto the remains. A wall of flame shot up out of the ground.

"It's just like that refugee said to Roberts, they're burning their dead," muttered Sheridan.

"They must have suffered a lot of casualties when they tried to force their way across the river."

"Yeah, looks that way."

They waited until the truck drove away before continuing on their way. Trying their best to avoid contact with any of the refugees and the Chosen, they walked all day until the sun began to dip below the trees, sending long finger-like shadows across the snow-covered ground. Cole pointed to an abandoned shelter as a spot for them to take cover in for the night. Fifteen minutes later, Sheridan and Cole sat by the bonfire warming their cold hands and feet. Both men were lost in their thoughts. Neither man had said a word for nearly an hour when the sound of feet shuffling in the snow made both men jump up. They drew their weapons and stared out into the dark.

A ragged-looking Chosen soldier emerged out of the night and stumbled towards the fire. His face was covered in bruises. His white coveralls were stained with dirt and blood. The man dropped to his knees and held out his hands to show he was unarmed. "Food," said the soldier in English as he brought his dirt-encrusted fingers to his mouth.

Sheridan looked over at Cole and then back at the Chosen warrior. Slowly, Sheridan put his pistol away, reached into his jacket and pulled out a foil pack. He tossed it at the battered man's feet. The soldier dropped to his knees and attacked the food, gobbling it down in seconds. He licked the inside of the foil packet before looking over at Sheridan. Once again, he held out his hands, asking for food. Cole threw a ration pack at the man. As before, he devoured the food.

Sheridan studied the warrior. He looked downtrodden and tired. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He could tell that the man had suffered horribly in the cold.

"Jesus, sir, what do we do with him?" Cole whispered into Sheridan's ear.

"I don't know," Sheridan answered. "But I bet he's willing to trade information for food. Cover me."

Sheridan sat down by the fire and pulled out a tube of meat paste. He held it up so the starved soldier could see it. The man instantly reached out for the food. "First I want to know your name. Why did you run away from your unit?" Sheridan asked in Kurgan.

The soldier's eyes widened. His face told Sheridan that the man hadn't expected a human to be able to speak Kurgan. Sheridan repeated his question. The warrior looked from Sheridan to Cole. He crawled back and stared at Sheridan with fear in his eyes. His officers had told him that unbelievers couldn't speak the language of their Lord.

Cole aimed his pistol it at the man's head.

"My name is Kimdar," said the Chosen. "I'm hungry. I didn't run away. We've seen humans paid for their work with our rations. I just went to look for some food."

"Your face is bruised and your uniform is stained with blood. Did your officer beat you?" asked Sheridan.

The warrior looked down. "I was weak. I hesitated in battle. I deserved my punishment; it has helped me become closer to the Lord and for that I am grateful." Sheridan translated the conversation for Cole.

"Ask him where his weapon is and when was the last time that he ate?" said Cole.

Sheridan asked the questions.