First Strike

The dark gray waters of the river flowing underneath the bridge looked cold and inhospitable. Although it dropped below zero during the night, the river had yet to freeze over. Sheridan rubbed his cold hands together for a moment trying to warm them up. He swore under his breath as a body clinging to a piece of debris from the refugee camp floated by. It was not the first they had seen and it certainly would not be the last.

  They had been at the bridge for a week and they had yet to see a single Chosen warrior. Although the frontline had crept closer each day, the enemy’s last major attack had met with failure. Sheridan had been told that the large Kurgan tanks were having a hard time navigating the narrow streets and that casualties on their side had been high during the last few days of fighting. A fresh division of Chosen soldiers had replaced the one in the front lines. Another attack was expected in the next twelve to twenty-four hours.

  Sergeant Cole did not waste a single second. He had the men improve their defensive positions and taught them how to defend their positions when the enemy came.

  Garcia, during a quick trip to the rear, had obtained several more med kits, which she gave to a couple of soldiers who said they had taken combat first aid.

  Sheridan had just sat down to have a meal with Cole when a runner from Captain Rolleston arrived and handed him a note. Sheridan quickly read it over and signed the paper to let his superior know that he had acknowledged the message.

  “What’s up?” asked Cole.

  “Looks like we’re going to get another squad later tonight.”

  “From where?”

  Sheridan smiled. “Oh, you’re going to love this, they’re from one of the div’s logistics units. Seems that without any supplies coming in, they don’t need them anymore.”

  “Jesus,” blurted out Cole. “They can’t be serious!”

  “Oh, but they are.”

  Cole shook his head. “Where do you want to put them?”

  “They can be our reserve. Have them set up a position in the house right across the street and give them a lance corporal from one of the other squads as their assistant squad leader.”

  “I’ll move Sampson; he’s a fairly switched-on lad for an artilleryman,” answered Cole, only half-joking.

  At midnight, the reinforcements arrived. Cole and Sheridan made sure that they understood what was expected of them. They had volunteered to join the Marines on the front line, that alone made their arrival seem less onerous.

  After ensuring that everything was going as good as it could be, Sheridan grabbed his lightweight survival blanket. He was about to get comfortable on the floor when Roberts stuck his head inside the bunker and said, “Sir, you’ve got to come see this.”

  “What’s going on?” asked Sheridan wearily.

  “The drones are back.”

  “So?”

  “They aren’t firing missiles. They’re playing messages.”

  Sheridan was tired, but his curiosity drove him to get up and see what was happening. He stepped out into the cold night air and saw a Kurgan drone hovering above the river. The holographic image of a healthy-looking Marine appeared onto the side of a building.

  The image spoke. “My fellow Marines, you listen to me. You don’t have to die. If your officers are telling you that help is coming, it is a lie. No one is coming to help you. Your own people have written you off. You don’t need to die fighting for fat, incompetent officers and politicians who sit safely back on Earth while you fight and die out here.”

  The Marine’s image faded and was replaced by a woman and her two young children happily walking through an open field. The sun was shining down on them. The message continued. “Marines, join us. Life on a Chosen world is one of peace and spiritual contentment. Walk toward our lines and you will be met and greeted as a fellow comrade fighting against the injustices of your unworthy leaders.”

  Sheridan looked around and saw that some of his men were attentively watching the propaganda. He had heard enough. He brought up his rifle to his shoulder, made sure that the safety was off on the grenade launcher, and then took aim at the drone. A second later, he pulled back on the trigger. With a whoosh, the shell flew straight at the target. With a loud boom, the drone blew apart.

  A hand reached out of the dark and pulled Sheridan back off his feet and onto the ground just as a missile struck where he had been standing only a couple of seconds before. Sheridan looked over and saw Cole lying on the cold ground beside him.

  “Sir, are you trying to get yourself killed?” asked Cole. “Didn’t you see the other drone?”

  Sheridan shook his head. “No, I only saw the one.”

  “Pay more attention next time.”

  “Thanks for saving my life, Sergeant.”

  Cole stood up and helped Sheridan to his feet. “Think nothing of it. Now, why the hell did you fire on that drone?”

  “I saw some of the replacements listening to the message. The last thing we need is people thinking about deserting to the enemy.”

  Cole looked around at the men. Some were talking in hushed tones so they could not be heard. “Come on, sir, let’s visit the squads and put an end to any thoughts of desertion. I’ll put the fear of God into them. An hour from now, the propaganda drone’s message will all but be forgotten, but not my wrath.”

  A couple of hours later, Sheridan was fast asleep on the floor of his bunker when he was awoken by Garcia, who handed him a steaming hot cup of coffee and another note from his company commander. After shaking the cobwebs from his mind, Sheridan took a seat and read over the message. It was an update from headquarters outlining the enemy’s possible courses of action over the next couple of days. He smirked when he saw that the enemy was not expected to do anything until they had reorganized their battered forces for another push. If history had taught Sheridan anything, it was that the enemy always did what they were not expected to do.

  They were coming. It was just a question of how and when, thought Sheridan.

  “All quiet,” pronounced Cole as he walked into the command post. He was bundled up against the cold. A thick white layer of frost covered his scarf.

  Sheridan handed him the note. “According to the people in the know, it’s going to stay that way for a while.”

  “Shall we start a pool and see how long it is until they come?” asked Cole.

  Sheridan glanced down at his watch. It would be light in an hour. “Looks like they won’t be coming for a few hours. Why don’t you put your head down and get an hour’s sleep? I’ll do a check of the position and then make us some breakfast.”

  Cole nodded, dug out his blanket, wrapped it around his shoulders and fell asleep sitting up in his chair.

  “Sir, I’m not due on shift for a couple of hours, can I tag along?” asked Roberts. “Tammy could use the exercise.”

  “Sure, why not. The troops like to see her.” Whenever the soldiers saw the dog, no matter how tired they were, they always perked up and gave Tammy a pat on the head or a playful hug. The dog, of course, loved the attention.

  After almost an hour checking that everything was as it should be, Sheridan, Roberts, and Tammy were carefully making their way back to the command post. Although the drone activity had dropped considerably over the past few days, it always paid to be cautious. They were almost at the bunker when Tammy stopped, edged forward until she could see the river and began to growl at the water.

  Roberts took a quick look over the side of the bridge. There was nothing there. Tammy dropped onto her haunches, growling. “Easy, girl, nothing’s wrong,” said Roberts as he reached out to grab her collar.

  The hair on the back of Sheridan’s neck stood up. He was not convinced that there was nothing wrong. With his rifle gripped tightly in his hands, he peered down at the dark gray water as it flowed under the bridge.

  Roberts was right. There was nothing there.

  Sheridan brought his rifle up to his shoulder and looked through his telescopic sight trying to see what may have spooked the dog. After a few
seconds, he lowered his weapon and shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe a bird flew under the bridge?”

  Tammy suddenly got up on her feet and barked loudly.

  A second later, they saw what had spooked the dog.

  The enemy had arrived.

  Emerging out of the river were ten hunter-killer robotic attack vehicles. They resembled giant mechanical spiders with six sturdy legs coming out from a circular body. The robots had twin-mounted machine guns and a grenade launcher built onto a central swiveling platform that allowed the vehicle to fire in any direction.

  “Stand to!” yelled Sheridan at the top of his lungs as he pulled his rifle into his shoulder, released the safety, and fired a high explosive grenade at the nearest robot. A split second later, the attacker vanished in an explosion that sent pieces of the vehicle flying into the air.

  The other hunter-killers sensing a threat pivoted their weapons over and released a hail of bullets at Sheridan and Roberts.

  Both men dove for the ground as hundreds of rounds flew past them. Sheridan’s heart pounded away. They were trapped out in the open. He glanced over his shoulder and saw another horde of robots emerge on the far bank and attack the rest of the company.

  With their targets out of sight, the hunter-killers turned their attention back to the bridge and began to climb up the embankment engaging anyone who was foolish enough to see what was going on. From out of the gray dawn sky, flew a swarm of Kurgan drones that took up position above the robots, covering them as they clawed their way forward.

  “We can’t stay out here,” said Sheridan to Roberts. “Do you have a smoke grenade with you?”

  “Yes,” called out Roberts, trying to be heard over the cacophony of automatic gunfire.

  “Throw it!” ordered Sheridan, pointing at a spot a few meters away on the bridge.

  The grenade landed and rolled for a second before venting a heated gray cloud. Designed to mask a person’s movement, the grenade also produced a cloud that was hot enough to defeat thermal imaging sights. As soon as the billowing cloud was big enough, Sheridan, Roberts, and the dog sprinted into the mist, heading straight for the safety of the command bunker. The sound of bullets whipping through the air made both men duck as they ran. A couple of seconds later, they emerged out of the smoke at the entrance to the command post. Without stopping, like a pair of baseball players stealing home, they slid down inside the bunker before the enemy could fire upon them.

  The rhythmic thud of the automatic grenade launcher firing a mix of armor piercing and high explosive rounds filled the air. Garcia was trying to land the grenades in amongst the machines as they advanced. She managed to destroy two of the robots before several of the drones flying above the bridge zeroed in on her and released a volley of missiles onto her position. In a bright flash, the shelter she had been using for cover exploded.

  “No!” cried out Roberts as a billowing dust cloud enveloped the house.

  Sheridan gritted his teeth. He turned to speak to Cole. “So much for no enemy activity. I think there are still six or seven hunter-killers coming our way.”

  “Each squad has an anti-tank launcher with them that should narrow the odds in our favor.”

  “It’s the drones that I’m worried about.”

  As if on cue, dozens of anti-aircraft missiles streaked from the far bank, blasting the Kurgan drones from the sky. Unknown to Sheridan, a company from the division’s air defense battalion had moved forward under the cover of darkness to cover the bridge. The few drones that still hovered above the bridge tried to return fire but were brought down in flaming balls into the river.

  Another sound, distant but closing fast, caught Sheridan’s attention. He turned his head, looked out over the river and swore. Racing up the river were three large armored hovercraft. He should have known the enemy would not have tried to seize the bridge using only robots. With turret mounted heavy machine-guns, the hovercraft opened fire on the bridge’s defenders forcing them to keep their heads down. When they were meters away from the bridge, the enemy vessels fired off a barrage of smoke grenades covering the area with a dense gray smoke. Although Sheridan could not see it, he knew that at least one hundred Chosen warriors had disembarked and were now hurrying up the river bank to capture the bridge from both sides before it could be blown.

  Sheridan’s blood turned cold. The odds against his makeshift platoon were daunting. Unable to communicate with his squad leaders, he had to count on them to follow his orders. They could not allow the enemy to gain a foothold on his side of the bridge. The sound of Cole firing a grenade at one of the robots shook Sheridan back into reality. He brought up his rifle, laid his laser designator on another one of the hunter-killers and fired off a high-explosive grenade, blowing it to pieces.

  The squad of Marines made up of volunteers from a logistics unit opened fire on the Chosen as they swarmed up over the riverbank. Several men fell, before the shock of being engaged by someone wore off. Within seconds, a Kurgan officer, holding a banner in his hands had the Chosen moving forward in short bounds. One man fired while his partner moved and then switched roles to keep the firing line moving forward.

  Sheridan saw the officer through the swirling smoke and dropped him. A Chosen soldier ran over picked up the crimson red flag and lifted it aloft. A cheer rang out. The enemy was not going to turn and run; not this time, their blood was up. With each passing second, the intensity of the firefight increased. Bullets and grenades flew in both directions as Marines and Chosen clashed.

  Tammy barked loudly. Roberts turned and saw her facing a side firing port. He ran over just in time to see an enemy soldier try to throw a grenade through the opening. Shooting a long burst at the man, Roberts brought him down. A second later, the grenade exploded outside, wounding two other warriors. Without aiming, he emptied all one-hundred rounds from his rifle’s magazine into the gray cloud covering their end of the bridge. It may have been a futile gesture, but it made Roberts feel like he was doing something.

  Sheridan turned to face Cole, “Sergeant, we can’t sit here and hope for rescue. We’ll all be dead before help arrives.”

  “What do you want to do?” asked Cole as he fired off a quick burst into a group of Chosen soldiers who had tried to sneak up on their position.

  “I’m going to clear the enemy off the bridge.”

  “How the hell are you going to do that?”

  “I’ll take a squad of artillerymen and push the enemy back toward you.”

  Cole fired his rifle at a robot that was skirting around a pile of rubble. “Sir, you’ll be outnumbered.”

  “I know, but I’m counting on the element of surprise.” With that, Sheridan patted Cole on the back and headed to the back of the bunker. He popped his head out and saw that the enemy was fixated on the bridge and not the houses behind it where the rest of his platoon was located. Hunched over, Sheridan ran as fast as he legs would go. He did not stop until he was safe.

  Sergeant McDaniel, the squad leader, met Sheridan. “Sir, we can’t see a thing from back here. The smoke is blocking everything.”

  Sheridan said, “Sergeant, that’s about to change. Get your men together; we’re going to push the enemy off the bridge,”

  The sergeant hesitated for a second. “Sir, you want to take on the enemy with just one squad?”

  “Yes, split your squad in half. I’ll take half down the right side. You take the rest down the left. They won’t be expecting us. Also, have your men fix bayonets.”

  “Sir, what about the hunter-killers?”

  “Don’t worry about them. The Kurgs screwed up when they fired off their smoke dischargers. For the next few minutes, the robots are as blind as the rest of us. Now get your men ready!”

  With five men trailing close behind him, Sheridan raced over to a burnt-out vehicle and then peered over toward the house the Marine logisticians were fighting for their lives from. Surrounded by at least a twenty Chosen, the volunteers held their ground. Sheridan turned to look into
the faces of the young soldiers with him. A steely determination met his gaze. “Okay, Marines, were going to take the fight to the enemy. They won’t be expecting us, so we should be able to take them down before they know what’s going on. When we leave here, we’re not stopping until we reach the bridge. Don’t be afraid to use your bayonet if you have to. Any questions?”

  Stony silence answered him.

  Sheridan nodded, turned about, stood up and began to walk toward the enemy. The other soldiers quickly took up position on either side of him with their weapons held tight into their shoulders.

  The surprise was complete. The first Chosen they came across died thinking the men moving toward them were their own. Without stopping to take cover, Sheridan led his men inexorably forward. He could hear McDaniel’s men on the other side of the street engaging the enemy.

  A strong wind blew down the river. All around, the smoke cloud began to dissipate. They had seconds before their cover was gone. Sheridan broke into a jog, trying to close the gap with the Chosen before the smoke vanished, leaving them exposed. From out of the mist, a warrior carrying a banner ran straight into Sheridan. With a look of surprise and horror in the man’s eyes, he fumbled for his rifle, only to be bayoneted in the chest by Sheridan. With a hiss on his lips, the Chosen dropped the flag and slid down onto his knees. Sheridan pulled back on his weapon and continued.

  Cole saw Sheridan emerge from the gray cloud. He got up on one knee, took aim and opened fire on anything he could see. Roberts joined him.

  Sheridan jumped off the road and ran over to the house the Chosen had been trying to capture. He called out before carefully sticking his head inside. Four of the soldiers were dead and the rest wounded, but against the odds, they had held their position. He told them to hang on. Quickly rejoining his team, Sheridan told them to take cover. The smoke had vanished. Thankfully, they had accomplished their mission. The bridge was still in his hands, not the enemy’s. A small knot of Chosen warriors fought to the last, trapped out in the open. The last man took his own life by pulling the pin on a grenade and holding it next to his head rather than risk capture.

  Sheridan left Sergeant McDaniel’s squad to hold the bridge while he crawled back over to Cole. Both men opened fire hitting one of the few hunter-killers still operational. One by one, the robots were picked off until there was not a single machine left on Sheridan’s end of the bridge.

  Sheridan and Cole warily stood up and looked about at the clumps of dead Chosen and the destroyed robots covering the ground.

  Cole said, “Sir, sounds like the enemy is still fighting our guys on the far bank.”

  Sheridan turned his head and listened to the noise of battle for a second. “The automatic grenade-launcher, maybe it’s still operational!”

  “Roberts, you’re with me,” ordered Cole as he sprinted over to the rubble that had once been Garcia’s position.

  Dust and smoke from burning wood clouded the air. Clawing at the wreckage, the two Marines pulled away the debris as they tried to find the grenade launcher. A couple more men from a nearby squad ran over to help. After a couple of minutes’ work, the men were covered in sweat and dirt.

  Suddenly, Cole stopped what he was doing and snapped his fingers in the air. “Stop!” he yelled. Bending down he placed his head near the rubble and listened.

  A faint voice cried out for help. Tammy barked in response.

  Like possessed men, they yanked and pulled the wreckage aside trying to get to whoever was trapped underneath. Roberts let out a loud whoop when a shattered wooden beam was shoved out of the way and Garcia looked up at him. Amazingly, Garcia and the Marine with her were unhurt. When the building collapsed, the roof above them buckled and then fell down in a V-shape, protecting them from the remainder of the house coming down on them.

  “I thought you were dead,” said Roberts.

  “No, just incredibly lucky,” replied Garcia as she crawled out of the hole. She was covered from head to toe in dust making her look like a ghost. Tammy trotted over and nudged Garcia’s hand with her nose.

  “The grenade launcher, where is it?” asked Cole.

  “It should be right beside where you found us,” replied Garcia.

  “Find it!” ordered Cole to the Marines.

  Sheridan was amazed to see Garcia alive as she and the other man with her ran over with the launcher and set it up so they could fire. As soon as a belt of grenades was fed into the weapon, Garcia took aim and opened fire on the enemy still fighting on the other end of the bridge. Between her fire and a counterattack by the rest of the company, the Chosen warriors were soon swept aside and destroyed.

  The attack was over.

  A loud cheer erupted from both sides of the bridge.

  Sheridan did not feel like celebrating. They had been lucky. He turned to face Cole. “Sergeant, send a runner back to company headquarters and tell them to send some engineers over here right away. Ten to one the Kurgs cut some of the wires leading to the explosives under the bridge, I know I would have. Then let’s see how badly we’ve been cut up.”

  “Right, sir,” answered Cole noting the fatigue in Sheridan’s voice. He knew that he would have to pay attention to the young officer for the next little while. He was a good man and one he knew would be hard to replace. If they were going to survive this fight, they would need men like Sheridan, and Cole did not want to lose him.

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