“Hold fast and keep firing.” Sawyer’s voice was steady but hoarse. He was tense, but he made sure none of that came through. “Two more minutes, people. We need to hold for two more minutes.”
Jax’s force had attacked in two long skirmish lines. The extended formation didn’t have enough density to make any real headway, but their mission was distraction, not an extended battle. They swept in from the ridge, catching the federals half-asleep.
“Move forward and grab some cover inside the enemy perimeter.” Jax was running as he spoke, his assault rifle in his hand. “All personnel, fire at anything that moves, and make as much noise as you can.” The enemy fire was light, but Jax knew that wouldn’t last. “I don’t want anyone penetrating too far. And when I give the withdrawal order move your asses and get the hell out.” Jax’s force was outnumbered almost 100-1; they were here to raid, not fight a battle.
They’d taken out the perimeter guards and slipped into the encampment. The troops were mostly billeted in modular structures located throughout the base, but there few barracks at the point Jax chose for his attack. The structures here were different, mostly workshops and other maintenance facilities. Other than the guards, most of the personnel in the area were technicians and support staff, and that gave the attackers a chance to grab good positions before the enemy counter-attacked.
Jax followed six troopers through the blasted doorway of one of the workshops. They’d hit the building with grenades already, collapsing two of the walls and bringing a section of roof down. The attackers fired as they came through, taking out the survivors inside then moving to take good defensive positions in the wreckage. Jax crouched behind a jagged meter-high section of wall and peered out over the top.
It was ten minutes, maybe twelve, before the enemy launched a major counterattack. Jax had been waiting impatiently, wondering what was taking so long. He’d have busted a subordinate out of the service for such a slow response, and he shuddered to think of how Erik Cain would have reacted if any of his troops had been so lackadaisical. But he was glad – the enemy’s sluggish response did half his job for him.
The federals came swarming into the zone occupied by Jax’s troops, and when they finally arrived, there were a lot of them. All along the section of the perimeter held by the rebel forces, they came in waves. Jax’s troops, veterans all, had chosen their spots wisely, and they cut down the charging enemy troops in huge numbers, inflicting at least ten casualties for every one they sustained.
Still, the math was against them, and as their losses mounted the enemy poured more and more units into the fight. Slowly, methodically, Jax’s troops started to pull back. The withdrawal was perfectly organized and flawlessly executed. Troops fell back to new positions, supported by fire teams that remained in place, covering the retreat. These covering forces retired in their turn, supported by the troops that had already fallen back.
The plan was working, but they were getting close to the edge of the camp, and Jax couldn’t give the orders for the full retreat until those planes went up in smoke. He was just about to go on the comlink and order his forces to stop retiring and stand fast when he heard the explosions. There was one, then a pause…then a cluster of blasts followed by a single massive thunderclap.
“Alright people, the mission’s done.” Jax was on the comlink halfway through the explosions. “Time to withdraw. Execute plan Delta-1 now.”
Jax’s troops began leapfrogging to the rear at an accelerated pace. Things had gone well - better than Jax expected – but that didn’t mean it had been free. The retreating teams were moving back methodically, but they were slowed by wounded comrades. Jax had been clear – no one alive would be left behind. Across the line, walking wounded limped along, their comrades matching their pace to stay with them. Troops were carrying more seriously injured men and women, dodging enemy fire as they did.
Having taken so long to respond, the enemy was now pursuing aggressively. They were disorganized and distracted by the explosions, but there was still a massive force on the heels of Jax’s retreating troops. The retiring forces reached the perimeter of the encampment, rushing across the open ground.
The federals kept coming. They were disordered, and their fire was wild and inaccurate, but they were still taking a toll. Things were getting hot quickly, but Jax had one more surprise waiting. The retiring troops came together into three rough columns, and all along a small rise heavy weapons teams opened fire. Jax had stripped them out of the attacking formation, ordering them to advance behind the main force and take up a supporting position.
The attacking federals ran into the withering fire and recoiled back into the encampment. Jax’s retreating units continued to the rear, carrying their wounded with them. The heavy weapons teams began to pull back as well, withdrawing in stages, and in 15 minutes the entire force, including Sawyer’s people, were mounted up and racing away. It didn’t look like the Feds were organized enough to launch an immediate pursuit, but Jax wanted to get some distance from them anyway.
Sarah and her people frantically worked on the wounded in the retreating ATVs. They’d left forty dead behind them, and she was determined to keep that toll from rising. She almost managed it; only one of the wounded died during the retreat, one of Sawyer’s people, almost the last man hit.
Chapter 21
Four days passed before Cain’s people got the signal. Precisely two hours later they were at the museum. Erik didn’t know if they had been under surveillance while they waited, but he assumed they were. They sat for half an hour before a man - not the mysterious Charles, but someone new - came over and introduced himself as their guide.
It was the middle of the day. Cain hadn’t really thought about it until the call came early in the afternoon, but he found himself surprised they were doing this in daylight. His impulse was to get out of the city under cover of darkness, but in truth, the detection devices monitoring Washbalt’s population were just as effective at night. In some ways the crowds during the day provided better cover than the darkness.
Cain’s implant had been removed when he graduated from Marine training. He made sure that everyone in his team had also had theirs taken out or disabled. Anyone with a functioning implant would have been detected almost immediately, even after years away from Earth. That would have been a disaster and would have blown the cover of the group entirely. Confederation citizens were not implanted with monitoring devices…and they were masquerading as Martian diplomats.
Erik had been very specific when selecting his team. They were all from Earth’s slums. There were many solid veterans in the Corps who were born on colony worlds, but this was a job for the Marines who’d come from the urban wastelands of the Alliance. He picked troopers who had troubled pasts like his. Erik Cain had become a new man – a good man, he hoped – in the Corps, but when he was on his own in the slums of New York he’d been someone different, someone he usually tried to forget. Anger, hatred, and deprivation can change a man – a boy, really – and Erik Cain had been no exception. He’d done a lot of things he wished he could change, and while time had helped him make a tentative peace with his regrets, they were always there. Now he was back, not in the exact place, but in one very much like it, and he would have to deal with people uncomfortably similar to those he’d lived with before. People very much like he himself once was. He wanted a team around him that understood, that faced the same demons he did.