Commando, p.15
Commando, page 15
The Turtle’s constant movements made the plank shift. I let a couple of the others go first, just to make sure it stayed. It did. I crawled back into the Fox.
“That seems a waste,” I remarked to Mustang. “Once we saw them upriver, why’d they continue?”
“For that reason. The squad leader figured we’d move on, thinking they’d head back to wherever they came from. There was a chance we’d do what we did, but he chose to take that chance.”
Had to agree with the reasoning, but still felt like it was a waste of their lives. But from what I'd seen and been told, Wyvern leadership really didn’t seem to care. There was always more where those came from.
Once everyone was back on board and seated, the pilot turned the Turtle, heading us downriver again.
I was eager to turn in this assignment and get the next. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be sitting at FOB Gamma for long.
We heard the sounds before we came around the bend. Gunfire. Lots of it.
“Graves, Grift, up front,” Mustang ordered. “Zag and Air Raid, that side,” he continued, pointing to my right. He and Jester took the other side.
I didn’t know what the side was officially called on a ship. Did the hovercraft count as a ship? Either way, Air Raid and I were facing away from the side of the river Gamma was on.
The pilot slowed the Turtle, bringing us to the middle of the river instead of either side. The propellers stopped spinning, starting up in the opposite direction. Not as fast, just enough to keep the pilot in control as he let the river’s fast current push the heavy boat.
I didn’t see anything moving on my shore. Turning to the front, I saw Grift and Graves shifting, raising their weapons. The gunfire was louder. Now I could hear the sounds of bullets cracking against trees and concrete.
The front of the hovercraft cleared the trees. Graves fired first, aiming across the bank. My side. Grift, closest to the Gamma side, started firing.
Giving the Turtle a little power, the front end swung, pointing downriver again, we could see everything.
The dock was clear, empty of anyone and anything, but bullets slammed into the wooden posts, coming from across the river. Barely visible through the thick bushes, I started counting gun barrels. I couldn’t see the Scales or True Soldiers holding them, but most of the barrels were far enough out of the cover.
I stopped at a dozen.
Sharper cracks indicated high-powered rifles. Louder bursts were from automatic weapons, heavier machine guns.
I couldn’t see if anything was on the Gamma side, I was too busy firing at my side. My angle wasn’t good, but better than doing nothing.
“Hold on tight!” the Turtle’s gunner shouted out.
I had no clue what he meant, barely heard his words. He’d stopped firing the Turtle’s guns so we could hear. But I did what he asked.
The Turtle sped up, rushing for the far shore. The trees got closer and closer. Browns and greens filled my vision.
I knew what the pilot was doing now.
He cut the engines when we were a dozen feet out, the momentum carrying us forward. The Turtle slammed into the bank, bouncing back, pushed forward again by the river’s current.
Graves and Grift had been braced, reacting quickly. They hopped out onto the shore, disappearing into the jungle. It was a tight squeeze between the Fox and the hull, the fast attack vehicle had shifted on the impact, making it tighter. I wasn’t as quick to follow but managed to hop on shore the same time as Jester.
I followed him into the jungle toward the sound of fighting.
Glancing at my HUD, I saw all of my team’s markers, surprised at how many enemies showed up. Or at least some of them. The Knights across the river had managed to tag them. Made it easier on us.
Instead of running straight at the Scales—who by now knew we were coming, they had to have heard the impact of the Turtle—we fanned out into the jungle, moving to come at them from behind.
Or Jester, Mustang, Air Raid, and I were. Graves and Grift moved forward to where the Wyvern forces knew they were going to be. Our distraction.
I followed Jester about fifty feet before turning to parallel the river. We had the advantage because the enemy was showing up on our HUD. It felt like cheating, but I was okay with that. The disadvantage was that any of the Knights’ shots that missed could hit us.
Very nearly did.
I heard the bullet go whizzing by, striking a tree about ten feet past me. I crouched a little lower.
We started making our way back toward the river, the gunfire growing louder.
Mustang held up a hand and we stopped.
I saw a couple of Scales, but mostly the enemy was made up of True Soldiers of Del Muerta. Their brown uniforms were decent camouflage in the jungle. Not as good as the all-black armor of the Scales which blended with the shadows.
Without waiting for the command, I got down on a knee, sliding behind a tree. Sighting down my rifle, I got the back of a Scale’s head in the crosshairs. Pulling the trigger, a single shot, I watched the head slam forward, the Scale overbalancing and falling into the water. The splash was loud, seemingly making the gunfire stop. My next target, a True Soldier, had started to turn when I took him out. I could hear fire from either side of me. The way some of the bodies fell, it was also coming from the side. Graves and Grift.
Didn’t take long for the threat to end.
We didn’t get up, waiting for the all-clear.
The Knights across the river had stopped firing once we’d started.
“West bank is clear,” Mustang’s voice said.
“Copy that.”
I didn’t recognize the voice. Had to be whoever was running comms in Gamma. Male, bit of a Southern accent.
“Kestrel says to secure that bank, make sure there aren’t any roamers.”
“Acknowledged,” Mustang replied.
I could still hear gunfire across the river. Not as much, but Gamma was still being assaulted. They must not have been too worried.
“Spread out,” Mustang ordered. “Keep an eye out for stragglers.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
We spent a couple hours on the west bank. First making sure the ones we had taken out were down for the count. None were breathing. No prisoners. Then we patrolled, moving up and down river a couple hundred feet, away from the bank a couple hundred. There were no other enemy forces that we found.
I figured we’d be setting up a fortified position over here with regular patrols.
Walking back to the riverbank, turned out I was right.
An inflatable boat was motoring across the wide river. There were two Knights inside, another at the outboard motor. I saw a couple crates and tools stacked in the small boat. I didn’t recognize any of them.
Standing on the edge, I looked upriver; the Turtle had moved. It floated in the middle, the pilot using the engines to keep it in relatively one spot. It had turned to point upriver, keeping a watch. Looking south, downriver, I didn’t see anything but didn’t expect that to last long.
The inflatable was closer, turning to put it parallel to the bank. Shutting off the engine, the pilot and Knight in the front tossed lines out. I caught one, Jester the other.
I looped the line around the closest tree, making sure to pull in the slack, but leaving enough so the boat could float freely and not slam into the side of the bank constantly. Tying it off, I turned back, reaching a hand out to help the Knight onto the shore.
He was a big guy. Couple inches taller than me, broader. Wore green pants with a light blue shirt and tactical vest over it. The pouches and pockets on his vest didn’t seem made to hold ammo or other gear like mine. There was even a wrench hanging off it. He had light brown hair, brown eyes. His grip was like steel as his weight pulled against me. I tried not to show how hard it was to help pull him up onto the shore.
“Gate,” he said, releasing my hand.
“Zag.”
He nodded, looking around at the surrounding jungle. Gate wasn’t looking for anything; he was studying the area.
“Where’s Mustang?”
I looked around, pointing out the team leader who was walking toward us.
“Orders from across the river,” Gate said, pointing over his shoulder. He shifted to make room on the shore for the other two Knights. Jester had helped one up, the other staying in the boat.
They started passing up the crates.
Gate led Mustang and I farther away to make more room.
“Your team and Zag are to stay here and provide security as we set up a camp,” Gate said. “You and Air Raid are to head back to Gamma for mission debrief.”
The fighting across the river had stopped while we’d been clearing the area. I had no doubt there were teams of Knights doing the same across the river.
As Mustang went to organize the other three, I eyed the crates that were now being stacked up near a tree. Gate caught me looking.
“Have you seen a Knights’ Forward Observer Post?”
I shook my head.
“Not much to it, really,” he chuckled. “We’re going to cut down some of the brush around here, run some makeshift walls from tree to tree. Throw up some camo netting. Mount a couple guns and put some tents for the watch to sleep.”
I turned, trying to picture it in the jungle around us.
“It’s not a 5-star hotel, but for a night, it’s not bad. I’m sure we’ve all slept in worse before.”
For the next couple hours, I helped Gate and the other two build the post. Rampart and Bulwark were part of the Tactical Operations Group but not Knights. They weren’t quite TOG support staff, either. As we worked, Gate tried to explain it, but didn’t make much sense to me. The three, along with others, were frontline soldiers but not Tier Zero operators like the Knights. Their main functions were building compounds like FOB Delta or smaller things like this little Forward Observer Post.
I was surprised there was much call for that. Gate had laughed. They weren’t the busiest of the TOGs’ various groups, but they weren’t the slowest, either.
The rest of Mustang’s team watched the jungle around us.
Clearing the brush was the hardest part. Using machetes, we hacked the thick branches and plants down, piling them just outside where the wall was going to be. The wall itself was made of prefabricated planks. Thin armor plates mounted to posts embedded in the ground. The fit wasn’t perfect. Some trees the plates fell short, leaving an inch or two gap, others they pushed past the trees a bit. But they provided cover, which was the objective. The gun’s mount was placed off-center of the front wall, where the trees didn’t grow as thick, giving it some good fields of fire.
Once we were done, there was an area about a dozen feet clear from the riverbank to the armor plate walls. Not a huge area, but enough for a couple tents to be erected. The camouflage netting didn’t go over the site, like I’d thought. It went across the front and sides, hiding the metal parts.
“Not bad,” Gate said when we had finished up. “Thanks for the help.”
I nodded, too tired to talk.
It had been hard work. Already sweaty and tired, this just pushed me to the exhaustion point. But the experience gain was nice.
You have gained experience in Fortifications Rank 1.
26% to next rank.
It didn’t look like much.
“Once a patrol pattern is established,” Gate continued. “We’ll build some blinds up in the trees and put out some early warning gear.”
I nodded, stretching to work the kinks out of my back. I fought back a yawn. The inflatable was making a return trip, coming back from Gamma. Lots of activity across the river. Only one TOG was in the boat, waving at us as it got closer.
“Looking for Zag!” he yelled out.
I waved.
“Get on board. You’re wanted.”
Me? I wanted a shower.
Other games, not something I’d ever thought about while playing. In this one, I could even smell myself. Luckily, I wasn’t the only one a little ripe.
After the Wyvern attack, the patrols had been doubled, guards up on the roof increased, and the TOG Engineers were out in the jungle setting up early warning gear and probably some booby traps. Most of the TOG operators I'd seen so far were back at Fort Hama. The maintenance crews, ops center analysts, and so on. Anyone who wasn’t a Direct Action Operator, a Knight, was part of the TOG teams.
I remember being told that I’d have my turn on watch along Fort Hama’s wall, but what I hadn’t been told was that there was an entire company of TOG Security Forces. Not just MPs, but soldiers whose job it was to secure the bases. I should have known there would be a lot of them. Only twenty-five Knights. There had to be others to fill in the gaps.
Wonder why the Helen was crewed by transfers from navies across the world?
How often was the ship used? Probably not often, which explained why the TOG didn’t have its own navy. Too much downtime?
Not my concern.
I’d been told to get to the briefing room on the second floor. The inside of the bunker was as busy as the outside. Lots of activity. The Turtles must have been running back and forth like crazy to get this many people and this much equipment to Gamma in the relatively short time I’d been out on operation. How many Albatrosses were flying from Delta to the Helen?
As I got closer to the room, I heard voices. Sounded like Kestrel and Mustang. Was that Lowdown?
It was.
In the doorway, I started to snap to attention but was waved off by Kestrel.
“Come in and close the door behind you.”
The layout was the same as before. A portable screen with Kestrel in front. The table, but only two others. Sergeant Sneeden leaning against the wall.
I took a seat next to Lowdown, across from Mustang.
“How you doing, Zag?” Lowdown asked. “Looks like the leg is all healed up.”
“It is,” I replied. “No issues.”
I hadn’t even thought about the leg wound. It hadn’t bothered me on the last operation. I thought I’d pushed it with the infiltration of the bunker, but the hours of rest I’d gotten must have fully healed it.
“First off,” Kestrel said, getting my attention. “Congratulations on a successful mission.”
Operation Complete!
Operation Base Zero Removal
Mission Objectives:
1. Infiltrate and secure intelligence from Operating Base Zero
Rewards:
1. 30 Operation Points
2. $6,000 Mission Pay + $6,000 Hazardous Duty Pay
“Thank you, sir.”
“That’s a lot less Wyvern armament that will be firing at us. I haven’t heard anything about the intelligence you gathered. The analysts back at Hama are going through it now. While you were gone, we also discovered how the True Soldier patrol was able to locate your emitter.”
I sat forward, curious.
“We had initially thought the conduit running out to the dock was for a dish of some kind. Satellite, radar. It might have been for a larger one, but we found a small one under the lean-to on the north wall.”
He glanced over at Sneeden.
“It was small,” the sergeant said, not moving from where he leaned. “Not that far a range, but it was able to pick up the emitter. Was big enough that it would have picked up a Turtle coming upriver.”
“It was a new design,” Kestrel continued. “We managed to disconnect it. It’s on its way to the Helen, then Delta, and finally back to Hama on the first Albatross heading that way. The techheads back at base will have a field day with it.”
“And yes, we triple-checked it for bugs,” Sneeden growled.
That was the question I was about to ask.
Kestrel stepped to the side, allowing us a full view of the screen. He hit a button on his OpsComm and an image appeared. I recognized it as Rio Lindu, the capital of Punta Del Muerto. The city was right up tight to the river that was named after it. It spread out from there, covering a good amount of land. A couple four- or five-story buildings on the far edge in a more developed and urban-looking area, the rest of it all one- and two-story buildings in an older style. More rustic-looking.
The whole city looked like it was in the middle of a transition, going from the old to the gleaming new of a modern city. I could see a couple of steel frames at the edges. New construction.
Right now the city looked like a warzone.
The image was color, taken by a low orbit satellite.
Fires raged over a lot of the old section, hadn’t hit the new yet. Evidence of some bombs going off, no fires. Small sparks in some of the streets that I took to be active shootings.
“This is Rio Lindu,” he said, starting the briefing. “Wyvern is concentrating a lot of firepower on it to try to take the city. They’re spread out across the country, engaged with the Muertan army. Most of the opposition is the True Soldiers of Del Muerta with support from Wyvern. The aim is to take the capital and the government, taking the country. The rest would be just mop-up.”
“The president?” Mustang asked.
Kestrel glanced at Lowdown.
“Last we knew, he was still in the city.”
Lowdown was the oldest in the room, Sneeden the closest in age. Kestrel continued the briefing.
“We’re gearing up to send the Knights into Rio Lindu. We can’t let Wyvern take the city and the government.” He tapped his OpsComm and two green arrows appeared on the image. “It’ll be a two-pronged attack. Coming from here and Delta.”
Aside from the arrow to the south of the city, aligning with Gamma, I had to assume the other was in line with FOB Delta. I tried to picture the overview of the country I’d gotten before the last operation, trying to picture where Delta was in relation to the city. I couldn’t remember.
