RECCE (The Union Series Book 4) Read online

  ‘I will be moving about to the south of the objective, but the sergeant major will keep his party here with their tight beam permanently assembled. If you have non-critical information that you feel can’t wait, then return to this location and get his signaller to beam it up to Richelieu and back down to the rest of us. Any questions? No? Sergeant Major?’

  Sergeant Major Davies regarded us all, before beginning: ‘Your time is your own. I make it fourteen hundred hours and you’re not expected back here until twenty-three hundred. That’s a lot of time on task, but remember, once you’re done, we’ll be straight into battle procedure and moving into position to attack, so there may not be much time to administrate your men. You’re all big boys now, so make sure you factor in some rest, even if its fifteen minutes, and make your men eat and stay hydrated. They’ll need their energy for tomorrow morning.

  ‘Remember the casualty evacuation procedure. If it’s a minor casualty, tell him to stop crying, patch him up and crack on. Major casualties are to be brought back here and I will arrange for an emergency extraction by dropship. You shouldn’t be collecting prisoners, but if you do, bring them here as well and I’ll deal with them. Other than that, maintain noise, light and net discipline. Happy?’

  We nodded, anxious to get on with the task.

  ‘Good.’ He flicked his hand dismissively. ‘Go.’

  My section’s task had appeared to be the simplest of them all: locating a suitable drop zone for the FEA dropship battalion which was planning to attack the village itself. Edo couldn’t afford to lose dropships, and because of the dangers posed to them from a built-up area, the FEA battalion were planning to land out of contact, before moving toward the village on foot.

  The task of siting their landing zones turned out to be far more difficult and time consuming than I had imagined, however. I had no idea what sensory equipment the enemy might have placed out, if anything, and I had no idea where his positions were, or if he patrolled the area. I couldn’t hear or see any sign of the Loyalists, but I knew that they were close. Their proximity, combined with particularly difficult terrain, made our recce painfully slow.

  The forest to the south of the village was particularly overgrown, making it hard to move without making any noise. I had to spend a large amount of my time using the “petal method”, which basically meant creeping in from one direction, then moving back away before coming in from another, slowly traversing the southern edge of the objective whilst minimizing the amount of noise we made close to it. Each time I probed toward the village, I had to leave Puppy’s fire team behind to cover our backs.

  I found a clearing large enough to land two or more dropships, so I marked it with a crosshair, recording the grid until later when I could compile my findings for the platoon commander. Since our section net was deactivated, only I could see the crosshairs I was creating, so every time I returned to Puppy, I had to exchange data with him manually, datapad to datapad, just in case I somehow became a casualty or managed to get lost in the forest. The process was long and methodical, but it was the only way to get it right.

  My recce was further slowed when we encountered the pipeline that we had crossed earlier that day. I had forgotten the pipeline, and that it ran into the air factory at the centre of the village. Virtually swallowed by moss and vines, it took me almost five minutes to climb over it silently, being careful not to get my kit caught and end up making a noise or plummeting headfirst to the ground. Once on the other side, I watched the remainder of my section cross over the obstacle one by one, silently cursing every time another minute ticked away.

  ‘I’d just smash a hole into the side of this, and run straight into the village,’ Myers whispered, gesturing toward the pipeline as the last of Puppy’s fire team clambered over it.

  ‘There’s no way I’d run along that,’ Skelton replied. ‘The Loyalists would have it covered. Besides, it’s probably full of acid or something.’

  Myers let out a quiet snort. ‘There’s no acid in there!’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘If there was acid, it’d burn through the pipe, you mug!’

  Skelton rarely rose to insults, certainly not to young troopers like Myers. Instead he simply shrugged, and said, ‘Not all acid burns through metal, mate, but it can burn through your skin, cant it?’

  Ordinarily I would have taken some amusement from hearing two troopers argue about something they knew nothing about, but I was far more preoccupied by the amount of time it was taking to cross the obstacle.

  Just then, as if to make things worse, the sky began to darken and the heavens opened, the rain hammering against the canopy above us. Droplets showered over us, quickly soaking our combats once more.

  ‘Why is it fucking raining?’ I hissed angrily, feeling the pressure as day turned to night, and time became short.

  Skelton smiled - his dry sense of humour surfacing.

  ‘Why wouldn’t it rain?’ he answered.

  As if somebody was purposefully trying to make our patrol as miserable as possible - it rained throughout the remainder of our recce, and long into the night. The moonless sky of Eden, shrouded in cloud, quickly became as black as the void of space. Visibility was severely reduced, even with our full spectrum imaging, and we had to close up significantly to remove the risk of being separated. I reminded myself that the weather was a double-edged sword, however, and that it helped to keep us hidden from our enemy whilst we completed our recce.

  With just over an hour to spare, I gave the section a quick period of rest so that my troopers could administrate and eat. I felt that I had gathered as much information as I could - the forest was now dotted with the green crosshairs I had been placing out, each representing a suitable drop zone for at least a pair of dropships.

  With the feeding straws attached to their respirators, the section could probably have eaten on the move, but it was unlikely that they would have done. When working so close to the enemy, eating was no longer a priority.

  I sat with Puppy at the base of a tree and shared the result of our recce with him. Using the information we had gathered, I would create a patrol report on my datapad, containing my recommendations for how the ground could be used to the FEAs advantage.

  ‘We can land about two companies here … just,’ I explained, as I studied the map on my datapad. ‘They’ll have to drop the remainder after the first two have left.’

  ‘Either that or drop them in that crater by the FRV,’ Puppy suggested.

  I shrugged, and said, ‘Maybe. We’re just making recommendations. I suppose they can do whatever they want.’

  ‘They don’t even have to turn up if they don’t want to …’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What about that pipeline?’ he asked, changing the subject.

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Is it worth recommending it as a possible route in?’

  ‘I wouldn’t want to use it if I was them,’ I answered. Hadn’t I heard this argument before?

  Puppy pressed on: ‘Edo used to control this place, so they’ll know where the pipe goes and what’s in it. I think it’s worth mentioning.’

  ‘The Loyalists control the village now, though,’ I countered. ‘If it’s possible to enter the village through that pipeline, then they’d have done something to counter the threat. It’ll either be blocked or mined. I’ll mention it in my recommendations if you like, but only as a secondary option.’

  Puppy considered my argument, and relented.

  ‘To be fair, the Loyalists in the village won’t put up much of a fight once the hill is taken. This battalion will have it easy,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘I’ll bet they’re thanking God they’re not the ones going into the warrens …’

  ‘Those poor bastards must be shitting their pants.’

  Those poor bastards. The other FEA battalion were to echelon through the Guard once they had seized the top of Hill Kilo, driving down into the depths of the warren beneath it.
I knew all too well what was in store for them down there, and I expected they were terrified - I would be.

  ‘I’ve never fought in a warren,’ Puppy said. ‘Not outside training, anyway.’

  ‘You’re not missing anything,’ I replied, suppressing the memory.

  ‘Well, hopefully we stay out of this one. I don’t think it’ll be much fun down there with a whole battalion of shit-scared kids with guns!’

  ‘It’ll be a bloodbath,’ I agreed gloomily, ‘and our best hope is to stay well clear of the FEA until the dust settles, and hope that they manage to take control of the warren quickly.’

  ‘And if they don’t?’

  ‘Call for the dropships … or run for our lives.’

  The platoon had already returned to the FRV by the time I arrived, all except for Four Section, whose task was to locate and mark the Forming Up Point from which we would mount our assault onto the hill. I found the platoon snuggled into a small fold in the ground in two long lines, using a thicker section of the canopy as shelter from the rain. They were all packed tightly together, so that messages could be passed in the dark. It was one of the few times that a large group of troopers would bunch up in this way - a necessary evil when the platoon net was deactivated. Each line faced outward to provide cover, whilst the platoon commander and the sergeant major waited in the centre.

  I left Puppy to join our section at the rear of the formation, and made my way to Mr Barkley to report that I had returned in good order and hand him my recommendations. We were just ten minutes within our cut off time, so I didn’t have long to report my findings to him.

  The platoon commander didn’t look up as I knelt beside him, engrossed in something on his datapad. The platoon signaller sat between him and the sergeant major, with his tight beam assembled and ready to transmit our findings back to brigade. Brigade would then pass them on to EJOC, who would in turn pass them on to Edo.

  ‘I was beginning to wonder if you’d decided to go and attack the hill without us,’ the sergeant major whispered.

  I wasn’t sure if he was taking a cheap shot at me, or making an attempt at banter, and so decided not to respond.

  ‘How are the men?’ he then asked.

  ‘Good, sir.’

  Mr Barkley looked up at me. ‘Corporal Moralee,’ he acknowledged, ‘you’re cutting it fine …’

  ‘Nothing wrong with that, boss,’ the sergeant major responded sharply. ‘Time spent on recce is seldom wasted!’

  I was slightly stunned for a moment, both by the platoon commander’s reprimand, and by the sergeant major’s swift defence on my behalf.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Mr Barkley said, stepping down under the sergeant major’s glare.

  He was right - I wasn’t late - I had simply used all of my time effectively, and the platoon commander had no right to scold me.

  He recovered himself from the sergeant major’s rebuke.

  ‘How are we looking for the landing zone south of the village?’

  ‘It’s not great, boss, but it works,’ I replied. ‘The forest is really thick, so I’ve had to create lots of smaller drop zones rather than a few big ones. I only managed to get enough zones for two dropship companies at a time, though.’

  ‘Have you got the data?’

  I proffered my datapad, allowing for the platoon commander to withdraw the optical cable from his own datapad and connect the two devices together, sharing the data I had collected. It was an effective method of transferring information quickly without the use of network transmissions.

  The platoon commander wiped the rain droplets from his datapad and studied the location of my drop zones for a moment. He then nodded his approval.

  ‘That’s fine. What’s the ground like?’ he asked.

  ‘Really, really dense undergrowth,’ I replied. ‘They’ll be able to get to the edge of the forest from their drop zones, but not quietly.’

  ‘Well, it won’t matter by that point - they don’t land until the hill is taken. What’s this about using the pipeline as a route into the village?’

  ‘It’s an outside suggestion, boss,’ I said defensively, ‘and I don’t think it’s a good idea myself, but it’s there in case the FEA know something we don’t.’

  Mr Barkley stared down at the datapad for several seconds.

  ‘I wouldn’t send that particular recommendation up, to be honest, even with the comments you’ve put on it. The FEA will get confused and think we’re telling them the pipeline is safe for them to use - which it almost certainly isn’t. I would disregard that idea.’

  ‘Understood, boss.’

  He looked to the sergeant major. ‘I’ll add this to the rest of our data, and then beam it up.’

  The sergeant major nodded. ‘How long do you need?’

  ‘Not long … ten minutes?’

  ‘Roger.’ The sergeant major turned to me. ‘Pass on to your blokes - ten minutes and we’re off. You’ll get confirmatory orders at the forming up point.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  As I picked myself up and made my way to my section, I thought about the way the two of them had spoken to me. There was no doubting that the platoon commander had fallen out of love with me - his friendly smiles had been replaced by cold greetings and stiff rebukes. On the other hand, though, the sergeant major was as rigid as ever, defending the way I had timed my patrol, regardless of whether he liked me or not. I could have slept with the man’s wife - if he had one - and he still would have defended me if he thought I’d made a sound tactical decision.

  ‘Everything alright?’ Puppy asked, as I returned.

  ‘Yeah,’ I replied, casting my thoughts to one side. ‘We’ve got ten minutes.’

  It was two hours before daybreak when the platoon stopped a few hundred metres short of the forming-up point. Three of the sections - mine, Corporal Abdi’s and Corporal Stanton’s -closed up into a single file, each trooper kneeling shoulder to shoulder, facing opposite directions to provide all round defence.

  Puppy counted the troopers in our section, tapping each man roughly on the helmet as he did so. The taps became more pronounced as he approached me, until finally he playfully pushed against Myers’s helmet so hard that the young trooper almost fell over.

  ‘Nice one, belter,’ Myers uttered, loud enough for my 2ic to hear, but Puppy merely grinned, his teeth just visible in the dark.

  ‘Don’t mention it,’ he said. He turned to me, his voice turning serious. ‘Last man in, Andy.’

  ‘Cheers, mate.’ I flicked my head toward the forward end of the platoon line, where Mr Barkley’s command group waited. ‘I’m gonna push up to the boss. If the platoon move off, follow on and I’ll step back in as you pass me.’

  He nodded. ‘Roger.’

  I picked myself up and moved along the platoon line, mindful not to tread on a fallen twig or snag my kit on a branch. The forest here was particularly thick, so much so that I constantly had to move branches and foliage out of the way with my free hand in order to pass by without making a noise. There was plenty of background noise in the forest, especially because of the rain and the wind battering the canopy, but that wouldn’t stop a nearby enemy from hearing us with any form of audio enhancement.

  The platoon commander regarded me for a moment as I joined him, before turning his head down to his datapad.

  ‘Good weather for it,’ he remarked, as he manipulated a dim map on his screen. To me it was barely visible, but I knew that his visor display would illuminate the map and enhance it so that he could use it effectively in the dark.

  I turned my head up to the heavens, listening to the hiss of rain beating against the trees. I had heard the sound so many times before; it seemed to rain everywhere we went on Eden.

  ‘Very good weather, boss,’ I agreed. ‘Fighting weather.’

  Mr Barkley didn’t reply, instead remaining engrossed with his map. I wasn’t sure if he was making a deliberate effort not to speak to me, or if he was simply revising his plan, but either wa
y I decided to remain quiet, allowing myself to soak up the atmosphere, as well as the rain.

  The air was thick with anticipation. I could almost feel it pressing against my skin like a cloud of hot smoke. Behind me the platoon waited in silence - a long line of troopers disappearing into the mist - and occasionally one of their heads would turn toward us, contemplating how long they had left until it was time to go.

  The other two section commanders closed in, leaving only their 2ics and the sergeant major to stalk the line, making sure that everyone was in good order and battlefield discipline was enforced.

  Once the two commanders had arrived, and the three of us crowded around Mr Barkley, huddling close together to receive our final brief.

  ‘All in?’ the platoon commander asked.

  Corporal Abdi and Stanton nodded as they whispered in chorus: ‘All in.’

  ‘Confirm you’re all in the correct order of march - three, two, one?’

  Another nod.

  ‘Good. We’re well within time, which is unfortunate for the men because it means they’ll be waiting here for an extra hour. I don’t want to move in too early.’

  We nodded our agreement. H-Hour - the pre-designated time when the attack would begin - was in two hours - far more time than was needed to move into position. It wasn’t worth the risk to adjust the time for H-Hour, though, not for the sake of saving us from an hour shivering in the rain. Even though our tight beam was virtually undetectable, the impact upon our patrol becoming compromised by making any kind of transmission so close to the target was massive.

  There was also no point in moving forward to the FUP too early either; the longer we spent away from the enemy, the lower our chance of being detected. It only took one trooper to cough or to sneeze and the game was up before it even started. I imagined the desperation of a platoon fighting withdrawal through the forest, harried by an enemy tens of times our number - it didn’t bear thinking about - so we would wait where we were, in near total silence, watching the minutes pass.