Lieutenant Colonel (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 6) Read online

  “Ten to twelve more minutes? It was only supposed to be 15 minutes all told!” Ryck shouted into his mic.

  “I know, sir, but that’s what they tell me now.”

  “I don’t care what you do, but get it done now,” Ryck ordered Sams before cutting the connection.

  It wasn’t fair to Sams, but Ryck was not in a fair mood at the moment. As he watched, blue after blue avatar grayed out or went light blue. Golf was getting slaughtered.

  Another PICS Marine grayed out. There were only four left to fight on—four out of 24 that had joined the fight. Twelve more had stopped and been emplaced with Echo, the second line of defense.

  Ryck keyed in the Golf command net. He wasn’t going to interfere, but he had to know what was going on. Captain Attleman did not sound like a man in desperate danger. Ryck had yelled at Sams only a moment ago, but Chris Attleman sounded cool and collected as he gave his orders. He’d already lost two of his lieutenants. Joab Ling was still in the fight, along with the Golf XO.

  Ryck tried to consider Ling as just one more Marine, one more asset to use. But Joab was one of his boys, his posse. A young PFC Ling had saved the life of an equally young and inexperienced Sergeant Ryck Lysander.

  Ryck’s heart jumped when Attleman ordered Joab to take his remaining platoon and push around whatever C40 mercs were in front of him and attack the un-armored mercs flowing in trace. It was a sound decision, but a suicide mission.

  Just like I gave the entire company a suicide mission, Ryck acknowledged bitterly.

  Ryck watched the few avatars from Ling’s platoon sweep around and find an opening in the merc’s line of advance. He’d gotten that far, at least. Ryck hoped he’d make his death as expensive to the mercs as possible.

  “Captain Quezon, when can Gunny Bondi and the M54’s open up?” he asked his FSC.

  The M54 was a small field gun, not really arty, but more of a direct fire weapon. A direct hit from it would take out a C40 without a problem. The guns took time to set up, so the two with Golf had not displaced forward and were now with Echo.

  “The mercs are within range, but they need to be line-of-sight, and there are still Golf Marines between the mercs and the guns,” Captain Quezon said.

  “The mercs are more of a threat to the Marines than friendly fire. I want the gun teams to open up the minute they have a target,” Ryck ordered.

  He kept trying to think of what else he could do as he listened to Golf fight. He considered pulling the remaining company back to join Echo, but they would be extremely vulnerable while displacing. No, it was better that they kept up the fight and force the mercs to move around them. And then in the merc battalion’s rear area, anyone left might be able to sow discord.

  He was about to tell Captain Attleman to shift to the flanks and let the mercs pass, then hit them from behind as they clashed with Echo when the captain’s avatar went gray. He’d fallen. That left Joab Ling as the senior man of the greatly diminished company, and Joab was already hitting the unarmored troops behind the line of C40 soldiers.

  Ryck felt a surge of pride as he could see the mercs scatter in front of the onslaught from what was basically a Marine squad. Ten C40 mercs actually turned back to support their brethren, which was the best thing the Marines could hope for. Every minute the mercs were delayed meant another minute to finish the breach. Ryck had a brief spurt of optimism, but optimism unwarranted. Thirteen Marines could not face a battalion, and one by one, they fell. Joab was the second to last, and as his avatar went to gray, Ryck pushed that aside. He’d mourn later when he had time. He had another brief spurt of hope as the avatar flickered to light blue, but as it went gray again, Ryck forced himself to focus back on the battalion as a whole.

  With only scattered Golf Marines still effective, the leading edge of the mercs swept down on Echo, led by over 50 C40 soldiers. Cut down by more than 50%, they still had more than enough firepower to blow through Echo, and then the rest of the battalion.

  “Sams, what’s the status? We need that breach opened!” Ryck passed over the P2P.

  “Close, but the heavy water’s not going to last. It’s almost gone.”

  “What’s the next step?” Ryck asked.

  “You’re not going to believe it, but piss.”

  “What? Did you say piss?”

  “Yeah, that’s what Sergeant Tillimook says. Like in The Last Stand,” Sams said.

  The Last Stand was a popular flick that gave a somewhat—well, barely—accurate account of the war between The European Union and Fremont back at the start of the 22nd Century, Old Reckoning. In the flick’s climatic scene, the Captain Franz Klemper ordered his men to piss on their machine gun barrels to keep them from melting.

  “What about drinking water? Wouldn’t that be better?” Ryck asked.

  “Not according to the sergeant. Piss will eventually clog up the reactor, but it will give a quicker burst of energy right now,” Sams told him.

  “You’re not shitting me?”

  “Sir, I’d come back on that statement in a heartbeat, but I don’t have it in me right now to be funny. Piss is what it is. I don’t understand the science, but that’s what he says.”

  “And how much piss?” Ryck asked.

  “We’re going to need about 20 more men.”

  Leaving Sams connected, he brought up Captain McAult. “Hog, get a platoon over to the engineers on the main breach. Don’t ask why, but they’re going to have to piss. Then get them back and ready to face the mercs.”

  “Aye-aye, sir,” the Fox Company commander said, not even questioning the urination part.

  The two M54’s opened up, their reports echoing back to the CP. Both scored direct hits, taking out two of the mercs. They managed to get off another round apiece before one of the guns was knocked out by the combined fire of the C40 soldiers. The final M54 managed to get off one more shot before it too, was silenced. They had taken out five of the armored soldiers, though, leaving 47 of them still in the fight.

  The merc battalion and already taken some heavy casualties, and Ryck was slightly surprised that they were still advancing. Sure, the Sylvington Brigade had a reputation to uphold, but merc companies rarely fought on after losing even a third of their forces. By their very nature, they were never as dedicated to the cause as people who were invested in that cause, or any cause.

  The remaining PICS squad started engaging the oncoming mercs. The mercs had spread out off of Pitt Street, which was the main avenue of approach, but that merely funneled them to smaller side streets, enabling individual PICS Marines, augmented by the non-armored Marines, to hold them off. Each PICS Marine was able to take out multiple mercs, but one-by-one, they were being overcome. And when each PICS Marine fell, that left a clear avenue for the mercs to rush through the Echo Company positions.

  “Sams! We need that breach!”

  “Almost there. Five more minutes!”

  “I don’t think we have that, Sams. It has to be now!” Ryck said.

  “Genghis, we have to stop them,” Ryck said, switching to the P2P with his Echo Company commander.

  “We’re trying, sir. But some are getting through.”

  “Stop them, however you can,” Ryck ordered.

  Some of the mercs were being stopped by grenade launchers, by anti-armor mines, and even by Toads, taking a page out of Ryck’s own playbook. But not all of them.

  Four C40 mercs blasted their way through an Echo fire team and were heading right to the CP, less than 50 meters away. They would be within eyesight in a moment.

  “Bert, they’ve broken through. I don’t think we’re going to be able to hold them, but we’re going to go down fighting. I just want you to know, it’s been an honor, sir, an honor,” Ryck passed to the brigade commander—and his friend.

  He cut off the connection before Bert could respond.

  “OK, men, this is it. Every Marine is a rifleman, and now we get to show these trumped-up mercs what that means,” he told the men in the Alpha Command.


  Not one of them hesitated. They picked up their weapons and turned to face the onrushing mercs who had just appeared where one of the roads led into the parking lot. The CP was right in their path.

  “Sandy, you’ve got command. Get that breach open!” he passed to the XO, before turning off his comms.

  Ryck took out his own Toad, ready to toss it as the C40s got within his throwing range. He just hoped he’d get the chance as the mercs opened up with the pulse beams that were the weapon of choice against personnel. Underpowered against hardened targets, they could be fired at a relatively fast cyclic rate, and they were very effective against unarmored targets—i.e., people.

  Two meters to Ryck’s left, Captain Quezon fell. Ryck fired his M99, knowing it would have little to no effect, but he was not just going to stand there. Just a little closer, and he could launch his Toad.

  Ryck didn’t fear dying. He feared dying without taking out one more enemy. If a warrior’s position in Valhalla really did depend on how many enemy he’d killed, Ryck stood in good stead, but he wanted one more of the bastards. Ryck may be a battalion commander, supposedly dealing with big arrows on maps and having his Marines fight, but when push came to shove, all Marines were born to fight. Ryck had made his mark as a private on Luminosity, and he’d cemented it as a sergeant on Weyerhaeuser 23, so this was nothing new. He was just reverting to form. And somehow, it filled him with a fierce joy.

  Another Marine next to him fell, but he didn’t have time to see who it was. The charging C40 soldiers were within range. He activated the Toad and threw it right at one of the mercs—and missed! He cursed himself as he fumbled for another, knowing he wouldn’t have time before he was trampled underfoot.

  Ryck grabbed his other Toad and fumbled to activate it as the merc in his C40 closed in with him. Ryck saw his death there, finally ending his string of luck. And the merc shuddered and fell at Ryck’s feet as rounds zipped millimeters past Ryck’s ears with the buzzing of angry bees.

  Ryck turned to see Sergeant Jason Baker, in full hero mode with his 25mm chain gun at his hip, mowing down the four C40s. At his side, Lance Corporal Premier Gupta stood holding a huge case from which belts of ammo were running through the gun.

  Ready to die one moment, Ryck immediately shifted back into command mode. He keyed back in his display and saw another group of mercs breaking through 40 meters to his right.

  “Baker, over there, 40 meters. Five coming through,” he shouted, pointing.

  Baker nodded, then shifted his position, Gupta shifting with him. As the first C40 merc burst into the parking lot, Baker opened up, and one after the other, each merc fell, mowed down by a wall of death.

  “Holy shit, Baker! Holy fucking shit!” Ryck shouted, elated that more enemy had gone down. That he was still alive. That. . . that . . . hell, he wasn’t sure.

  “We’re through!” Sams passed on the command net.

  Ryck turned to look, and there, on the far side of the parking lot where the breach was made, the first PICS Marine came rushing through. A second was on his ass, then a third. Within moments, an entire platoon was through, pushing forward to close with the oncoming enemy.

  “Sams, it’s about time, but that is a welcome sight,” Ryck passed.

  Up by the breach, Sams turned and spotted Ryck. He raised his hand in a salute. Ryck could see the huge smile despite the distance between them.

  “We had to narrow it down, so no tanks yet. But it’s big enough for PICS. Once they get through, we’ll work on widening it for the tanks,” Sams said.

  “Who made that call?” Ryck asked.

  “Narrowing the breach? That was me. Command decision and all, you know. I thought it better to get the PICS in here. No fucking merc is going to stand up to a battalion of PICS.”

  “Your call?” Ryck asked.

  “Yes, sir, and I stand by it.”

  “That call might of just saved our asses. No, not might. Did save our asses,” Ryck told him.

  “I take it my command of two minutes is over?” the XO said, breaking into the conversation.

  “I’m afraid so, Sandy. I’m taking it back. The fight’s not over. 2/4’s now the point of main effort, and we’ve still got our orders.”

  “Proctor,” he passed, bringing his S3 into the conversation as well. “We’ve got to move to Phase Two. Change it to Fox to lead the movement. They’re at close to full strength.”

  There was no answer.

  “Proctor?” Ryck asked, toggling over to his battalion readout. He toggled to his staff, and there, Captain Proctor Christophe’s avatar was gray.

  Immediately, Ryck’s elation vanished like the mist. His adrenaline had been pumping, but now he’d been reminded of the heavy, heavy cost his men had paid. More than half of his battalion had been killed or wounded. They had accomplished the mission, but the butcher’s bill was almost more than he could comprehend.

  Don’t let it sink in, he told himself. Get a hold of yourself.

  If he broke down now, more of his Marines might die, and he would not, could not, let that happen. He forced the despair that was threatening to overwhelm him back into the darkest recesses of his mind and focused on the mission at hand.

  “Sandy, I need you to take over the Three. Fox is going to have to lead the movement to the next objective. Let’s get them going, and I want a new frag in five.”

  “Aye-aye, sir.”

  “OK, let’s have at it. We’ve still got a battle to win.”

  Chapter 29

  Ryck had been mistaken. The battle was already won. The Sylvington command knew that by failing to stop the breach, they had lost. The surrender had been offered before even half of 2/4 had passed through the breach and well before the breach could be widened for the tanks to enter the fort.

  As soon as Ryck received the word, he ordered Fox to form a defensive line. Sylvington was a professional mercenary company, and they wouldn’t renege on their surrender, but they shouldn’t have attacked the Marines with civilians around them either, and Ryck wasn’t going to take any chances.

  With Fox emplaced, the race was on to recover all the downed Marines. Time was of an essence to save some of the grayed out Marines and shift them from tentative KIA to WIA. Doc Janasluski and his corpsmen, with Echo Company Marines assisting, formed their recovery teams, fanning out into the battle area. Lieutenant Colonel Kent Allamien from 2/4, which had suffered only one Marine KIA before the surrender sounded, offered his battalion aide station to assist as well, and within five minutes of the surrender, Bert dispatched a team from the brigade aide station, flying them by Stork to just outside the breach.

  During both phases of the battle, at Hester and at the fort, the battalion had 346 Marines and sailors grayed out. After an intensive hour and thirty minutes, each of those men had been recovered, and no less than 112 had been zombied, being ziplocked and put into stasis. No one knew exactly how many of those 112 would actually make it, but chances were good for most of them. Navy medicine was damned good at what they did.

  Another 143 Marines were WIA. Thirty-five of those wounded joined the 112 zombies and were put into stasis.

  The recovery teams also ziplocked 85 mercs. They’d been gathered with the defeated mercenary battalion and its 187 KIA and were waiting evacuation. The Marines had carried the field, but the cost had been high.

  When Ryck was uploaded the list of the zombies, he tried not to show emotion. All of those men were his men, all equal and deserving of his concern. But still, he’d felt a small glimmer of joy when he’d read Joab Ling’s name. That small glimmer of joy was shattered, though, when he saw that Chris Attleman’s name was not on the list. His status had shifted from probable to confirmed KIA.

  Three hours later, Bert, Deshawn, and Sergeant Major Kim arrived at was now the 2/4 AOR as the afternoon rain started to fall. The Fuzos had been officially pulled from the lines and assigned as the reserve. This was the first time the two friends had seen each other face-to-face since before
Phase 1. As Deshawn pulled Sandy aside and Sergeant Major Kim grabbed Hecs, Bert tilted his head over his shoulder, indicating Ryck should join him.

  “I want a full investigation on Sylvington. I want them charged with violation of the Military Code of Conduct for using civilian shields,” Ryck said without preamble as the two men stood in the rain.

  “We don’t have to charge them,” Bert said.

  “What the grubbing hell? We saw it. I saw the dead, Bert. And I’ll be damned if I let this get swept under the rug,” Ryck almost shouted, fuming.

  He’d buried his emotions after seeing what had happened. He’d had a battle to command, and he couldn’t be distracted. But that battle was over, and all the emotions were roiling to the surface. The dead civilians. His own losses--234 Marines and sailors, lost. Add in the 33 lost on Gaziantep, and he’d lost 267 men, the most any Marine battalion had lost since the old 2/4 had been almost wiped out in the first battle with the Trinoculars. And frankly, he was amazed and gratified that he had not lost more than that. All of that was coming to a head, and he was about to erupt. If anyone thought he was going to ignore what he knew to be a direct violation, well, they had another thing coming.

  “It’s not getting swept, Ryck. I just said we’re not going to have to initiate the charges. They Sylvington command already did,” Bert told him.

  “Wh . . . what did you say? The Sylvington command?”

  “Yes. Colonel Fredericks handed the formal charge sheets himself not an hour ago. I accepted them and forwarded them to Force,” Bert told him.

  “But . . . I mean . . . they charged themselves? But the penalty is death. Colonel Fredericks wants to be executed? He deserves it, but I don’t get it.”

  “The charges were not proffered on the colonel, but a Lieutenant William de Stanton.”

  “And who is this lieutenant?” Ryck asked, beginning to see the method through the madness.

  “Evidently, an over-eager young man who was charged with protecting the civilians, but took it upon himself to attack your forces, violating his own orders. And of course, Colonel Fredericks has both audio and written record of those orders.”