First Strike by - (reading e books .TXT) 📕

Don’t forget that you broke formation to chase after that Kurgan fighter. Lone wolves tend to get themselves killed. Maybe not today, but one day in the future you’ll meet your match and there will be no one to cover your six and you’ll die.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Tarina. He was right. She had become too focused on killing her opponent that she failed to see what was around her. Her tunnel vision had killed her again.

“Miss Pheto, you’re an exceptional pilot, but I don’t think you have the temperament to be a fighter pilot onboard a fleet carrier,” said Jolson. “It takes a disciplined team to win in battle.”

Tarina felt as if her chest was in a vise and it was slowly closing, cutting off the oxygen to her lungs. “Sir, if you’ll give me another chance, I’ll do better the next time.”

Jolson shook his head. “I’m sorry, Miss Pheto, you’ve had three kicks at the can. You’re reckless. Perhaps if there wasn’t a war on we could take the time to break you of your bad habits. However, with the fleet screaming for trained pilots, I can’t in good conscience send you out there to die or get someone else killed because of your carelessness.”

“Yes, sir,” said Tarina, trying to not let her crushed feelings show on her face. “Am I to be reassigned?”

“Yes, you are,” said the colonel. “I watched the simulation from beginning to end. Miss Pheto, Major Jolson is right, you’re an exceptional pilot and I need outstanding pilots who are capable of working on their own.”

Tarina sat up. The colonel didn’t look like a transport pilot. The sharp look in his eyes told her he was a tough and determined soldier. Perhaps her future wasn’t as a pilot hauling supplies across the galaxy. 

Jolson said, “Second Lieutenant Tarina Pheto, I’d like you to meet Colonel Darcy Wright, Commanding Officer of the First Special Warfare Squadron.”

“Sir,” said Tarina, nodding at the colonel.

Colonel Wright looked deep into Tarina’s eyes. “Miss Pheto, I’m looking for pilots who aren’t afraid to take risks and have what it takes to fly missions deep behind enemy lines. Do you think you have what it takes to be a member of my team?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

Wright smiled. “Good, report to hangar nine at 0900 hours tomorrow morning. I’ll have someone meet you there, and Miss Pheto, from now on if anyone asks, you are a pilot with the Three Hundred and Thirty-Third Transport Squadron.”

With that, Wright left the room. Both Jolson and Pheto stood to attention until the colonel was gone.

“Miss Pheto, effective immediately your permanent records will reflect that you have washed out of fighter school and you are being reassigned to other duties,” said Jolson.

“Yes, sir,”

“Good luck,” offered Jolson as he shook Tarina’s hand. However, his tone was less optimistic. 

“Sir, do you know anything about my new assignment?”

Jolson shook his head. “Until today, I’d never heard of them, but they seem to have heard about you.”

Tarina couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, her life had suddenly taken a turn into uncharted waters and she knew it.

Chapter 12

“What the hell do you mean the prisoner is dead?” said Sheridan to Agnar, trying to keep his temper in check.

“Sir, when I went to check on him, I found that he was dead,” awkwardly replied Agnar.

Sheridan looked over at Cole. “Sergeant, check on the prisoner.”

A minute later, Cole returned. “Sir, it looks like he was stabbed under the left arm and left to bleed out.”

Sheridan glared at Agnar.

“Sir, it wasn’t me. I swear. The only time I wasn’t guarding the prisoner was when I had to go to the bathroom.”

“Who watched him for you while you were gone?” asked Cole.

“It was Andrews, Sergeant.”

Cole called Andrews over. “What do you know about the dead man?”

Andrews shook his head. “Sergeant, I didn’t kill him if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Let me see your bayonets,” ordered Cole. Both soldiers handed over their knives. 

Cole inspected them for a minute before giving Agnar’s back to him. “Andrews, there’s blood on the hilt of your bayonet, care to explain how that got there?”

“It must have gotten on there when I helped Agnar cut meat from the bear you killed, Sergeant,” said Andrews.

“Agnar, is this true?” Sheridan asked.

“Yes, sir. Andrews helped me.”

Cole handed back Andrews his bayonet. “Did either of you see anyone go near the prisoner?”

“Now that you mention it, Tartov came around asking how the prisoner was doing,” said Andrews.

“I never saw him,” countered Agnar.

“He came around while you were off in the woods taking a crap.”

“Okay, that’ll do,” said Sheridan. “I don’t want the enemy to find the body. Bury him.”

“Get to it, Marines,” ordered Cole.

Grumbling to themselves, Agnar and Andrews went to bury the dead man.

Cole stepped close. “What do you think, sir? Could Tartov be responsible for murdering the prisoner?”

Sheridan shook his head. “I don’t know. However, while Andrews and Agnar bury the body, I want you to take Obermman aside and ask him about Andrews. From the time they got on shift at the engine room on the Churchill right up to the minute they wandered into our camp. I want to know everything.”

Cole walked away and took Obermman, who was on sentry, by the arm. He returned five minutes later shaking his head.

“What did he say?” asked Sheridan.

“He didn’t say anything that would make me suspicious. I asked him to keep the conversation between the two of us.”

“Thanks.”

“It’ll be dark soon,” observed Cole, looking up at the ominous-looking gray clouds as they rolled in.

“Yeah, let’s hope that we don’t bump into any Kurgan patrols tonight. We’ve been lucky so far. I’d hate for us to get so close that we can touch the city walls only to be caught by the enemy.”

Cole patted Sheridan on the shoulder. “Sir, you’ve done well so far. Keep it up and we’ll get some real food and a decent night’s sleep for a change in a few days.”

Sheridan smiled. He noted that it was unbelievable what just a few words could do to raise a person’s flagging spirits.

Two hours later, Sheridan’s mood turned foul when they stumbled upon a ditch filled with bodies. He stopped counting after thirty. All of them had been killed by a single shot to the back of the head. He had Agnar find two civilian winter jackets. When Agnar returned, Sheridan moved back and led his people around the ditch so Kelly Green wouldn’t see the dead. 

Off to their right, hundreds of Kurgan guns thundered away. The ground shook under their feet. A couple of kilometers away, the forward edge of the capital was a long wall of fire as the houses there burnt to the ground.

After another hour’s walk, Sheridan called for a fifteen-minute break. They had come close enough to the refugee camp that they could smell the wood burning from a thousand fires. He called Cole up to his position.

“What are you thinking, sir?” asked Cole.

“I want to get a better look at the refugee camp. I believe that we may be able to find someone there who may know a way into the city,” explained Sheridan.

“Even if with your grubby beard, you’re still in uniform; you’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”

“I thought about that and had Agnar grab us a couple of civilian jackets from the dead bodies we found a while back.”

“Sir, if you get caught, they’ll shoot you as a spy for being out of uniform.”

“Sergeant, I think that’s the least of my worries after seeing what they have been doing to the civilians,” replied Sheridan.

“Okay then, sir, what’s your plan?”

“I want you to hold up here for the rest of the night. If Agnar and I aren’t back by first light, it’ll mean that we aren’t coming back and you can carry on without us.”

After a quick handshake, Sheridan handed off his rifle to Cole, as did Agnar. Walking around with a standard issue rifle over one’s shoulder was a surefire recipe to being spotted and shot, reasoned Sheridan. He still had his pistol and Agnar his knife, not the best weapons to go against the Kurgans with, but it was better than nothing at all.

Keeping to the trees, Sheridan led them toward the closest campfires. When they were close enough to hear voices, he raised a hand; they stopped and listened for a couple of minutes. The voices sounded tired and disheartened. When he didn’t detect anyone speaking Kurgan, Sheridan grew bold. He told Agnar to remain in the shadows while he took a look around. A second later, Sheridan stepped out of the dark and walked straight toward a group of people huddled around a fire for warmth. He could see that they were a mix of people; some were well over sixty while many were young couples holding onto their children.

“May I join you?” asked Sheridan, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.

A man with a scraggly gray beard and thick glasses looked up at Sheridan. He studied the dirty and disheveled man standing before him for a moment. With a warm smile, he said, “Of course you can, stranger. Please join us by the fire. I’m sorry that we can’t offer you any food as we have none to give.”

Sheridan thanked the man and took a seat on a log next to the old man. Before he could say a word, a blanket was laid over his legs.

“They have drones flying over the camp night and day. They’ll see your trousers, soldier boy,” whispered the man.

“Thanks,” replied Sheridan, realizing that he was safe and among friends.

“Are you from the capital?” asked a woman cradling her child in her arms.

Sheridan paused for a second unsure what to say. For now, the less they knew, the better. “No, I’m trying to get there. My men and I were trapped outside of the city when the Kurgans landed. We’ve been trying to make our way there ever since.”

“Are there a lot of you?” the old man asked.

Sheridan shook his head.

“That’s too bad. By the sounds of it, they sure could use a lot of soldiers to help defend the capital.”

Suddenly, from above, a spotlight shone down on the people sitting around the fire.

“Don’t look up,” warned the man.

A pleasant-sounding woman’s voice filled the air. “People, you have been abandoned and left to starve to death by your cowardly leaders. This is not how citizens should be treated. Mothers, please think of the children slowly dying in your arms. A safer, more prosperous future awaits you and your children. Anyone who wishes to join us will not be turned away. Please make your way to the open field near our aid station and you will be looked after. Remember, your fate is yours to decide: citizenship or death.”

The light switched off.

Sheridan glanced up and saw a circular drone hovering above their camp. A second later, it moved toward another group of refugees