The Conscripts: Fight or Die (Blood War Book 3) (6 page)

Sergeant Mati walked to the front of the platoon.

“You may think that hand-to-hand combat is useless in a war with rail rifles, smart bullets, armor, and other thousands of other pieces of lethal pieces of technology. You would be wrong. The fucking hybrids like to close and kill in hand-to-hand combat. They are willing to die trying to get close enough to kill you. They are as fast and strong as an armor-assisted human and they like to kill. They will try to incapacitate you so they can torture you. They like it. Unless you can defend yourself with nothing but your hands, you will end up being a plaything for those kaks.”

Sergeant Mati held up her hands. “I killed five of them with these. I will teach you how to do the same. Now pair up.”

Dieter stood and faced Ardan. The next hours were spent making the same moves again and again until they were automatic. They were all bruised, and some bloody, by the end of the session. Dieter was swaying after Ardan had caught him flush on the chin with a strike when Sergeant Mati said, “That was a good start. We will take it from there tomorrow.”

And they did, day after day, until Dieter and the rest of the platoon began to get the moves right. They drilled until every move that Sergeant Mati taught them was instinct. They drilled until they had bruises on top of bruises and not one of them had not been bloodied. Occasionally someone was knocked unconscious. Mati would allow them five minutes to clear their head, then they were right back at it. Dieter reached the point where he actually began to feel competent enough to win a fight. That is when Mati introduced them to the fighting axe. They started from scratch with the axe and practiced the moves until their arms could no longer lift it. Ardan and Minga had turned out to be two of the best hand-to-hand fighters in the platoon. Dieter was good but not like them. After weeks of dusk-to-dawn practicing with axe and hand-to-hand fighting, the platoon began to look like soldiers. The next day, as if the drill instructors could read their collective minds, Sergeant Ura called for a school circle.

He stood, looking down at them with a rail rifle in his hand.

“Listen up. This is the rifle you will be given. It is the oldest model out there. I wasn’t sure any of these were left. Its optics are outdated, it will not connect to any armor, and it won’t fire smart rounds, but you will learn to kill with this weapon. Soldiers have killed millions of people with weapons that don’t have this weapon’s range, accuracy, or stopping power. So you will learn to use it, to love it, and to care for it. Your instructor will be Sergeant Chucha. He was one of the best snipers in the Legion. He will now show you how to become just as deadly. Listen up. Your life will depend on your skill with this weapon.”

Sergeant Chucha stepped to the front of the platoon and said, “The fact that this weapon is not state-of-the-art does not matter. The person behind the weapon is what matters. I am going to make you into riflemen. You will be feared. We will now issue your rifles. From this point forward you will not move without this weapon. You will sleep with it in your bunk. You will run with it. You will march with it. It will be spotlessly clean at all times. If you have nothing to do, clean your weapon. Now, first squad, line up.”

Minga was in line in front of Dieter. She was issued hers, then it was Dieter’s turn.

“Prisoner Recruit Fenes, sir.”

Sergeant Chucha slammed the rifle into his hands. “Memorize the serial number. I will be asking.”

The rifle felt light in his now-muscled arms. He followed Minga as Ardan received his rifle. They stood at attention, not knowing how to hold the rifle until Ura grabbed a rifle and said, “This is port arms. Carry your weapon at port arms.”

Dieter grabbed the butt stock using his right hand as Ura had showed them, with the rifle angled up where he grabbed it with his left, and stood there. It took a while for the whole platoon to receive their weapons. When everyone had been issued a weapon, Sergeant Chucha strode to the front of the platoon.

“Normally, new recruits would be taught drill with a rifle. We do not have time to waste on that bullshit. So you begin your instruction in firing your weapon today. The first three things you will memorize will be sight picture, sight alignment, and trigger squeeze. I will now show you what those words mean.”

They spent two days doing nothing but practicing sighting the rifle in standing and prone firing positions until they could do them in their sleep. Then they were taken to the firing range.

“Recruits, this is the rifle range. You will learn how to become deadly with your weapon. You cannot punish someone into becoming a good rifleman. All you can do is teach them. You will be treated differently here while on the range. Otherwise expect the usual treatment.”

All three of the drill instructors began to talk to them as if they were humans instead of prisoner recruits, giving them individual instruction.

“Fenes, squeeze the trigger like it was your girlfriend’s tit. Don’t jerk it,” Sergeant Mati said.

Dieter slowly squeezed off the next round and it was a bullseye.

“That’s right, Fenes, think of that trigger as a girl’s tit. That’s how I do it,” Mati said and winked.

Each member of the platoon fired thousands of rounds at the range a day over the next two weeks, until every one of them was ready for qualification. Every recruit qualified. Not a single one went unk. Dieter found that he was one of the best shots in the platoon to his surprise.

Sol System

Earth

City State of New York

Admiral Raurk’s Quarters

Istas was just stepping out of the bathroom nude when Usiche came striding into the bedroom. She was still in her uniform despite the hour.

“Working late again?” Istas said, reaching for a robe and a cigarette.

Usiche smiled and said, “Do you have to put on the robe? It's been a long day, and I’ve been looking forward to seeing my Istas.”

“Before I do, love, I need to discuss some business, and being naked will not help us discuss the subject. It is important.”

Usiche stopped and turned to Istas. “What?”

“Change into something more comfortable while I fix you a drink.”

Usiche stripped out of her uniform and took a quick shower. She strode out of the bathroom in a robe, her hair wet and slicked back. Istas was waiting for her with a strong drink.

“Well?” Usiche asked.

“I started the surveillance of Riana Carroll today. I have my best people following her and anyone who visits the senator’s residence.”

Usiche stared for a long moment. “Without asking my permission?”

Istas almost looked angry. “Of course. There is no need for you to know everything. This is only the beginning, in order to determine if she is what my instincts tell me she is. Nothing else.”

“What happens if she notices that she is being watched?”

Istas frowned and said, “She will not. They are Anjins. They were born and bred for this type of mission. I have the best available, and they will not be noticed.”

Usiche was not expecting Istas’s reaction. “I'm sorry. Should I not have questioned you?”

Istas stood, went to a nearby table, and lit another cigarette before she answered.

“No, it’s I who should apologize. I overreacted. It’s just that they have almost killed you twice, and now I have a chance to get ahead of them and I am very much on edge. If she is who I think she is, then you are still in great danger. Anyone placed in her position is in a leadership role among the embedded hybrids. To have someone that high up is tremendously important to their operations. I have been in such a position on other missions. It provides you with information that is impossible to obtain any other way.”

“How would pillow talk with the senator inform her? That won’t get you much.”

Istas gave her a surprised look; it was hard to believe that Usiche would not understand how these types of operations worked. “No. It is much more than that. If she is good and ruthless, which I think she is, then she has more than just sex going for her. I checked the senator’s background. He divorced his wife right after Rift. If I had to make a guess, she is holding the lives of his wife and children over him.”

“That seems to be a rather large leap in logic,” Usiche said skeptically.

“No, it’s how I have done it in the past.”

Usiche stared at her dumbfounded.

“You don’t believe it,” Istas said. She paused as Usiche took a sip of her drink. “Believe it. I am an Anjin.”

“But you have never given me even a hint of the fact you were capable of such actions.”

“I was and still am if the need arises. It’s who I am. I have not shown you that side of me. I’m different with you.”

Istas saw a change in how Usiche looked at her. She had to know sooner or later if their relationship was going to be an honest one. Finally, Istas said, “The fact that he was appointed as senator as soon as they were married is not a coincidence. They must have something on him or be controlling even higher-ups in Von Fleet. From their actions I think it may be both.”

Usiche was stunned. “Do you know what that could mean?”

“Yes, the Xotoli have a direct line into the highest reaches of power in the Confederation, both in the government and corporations. But this is all conjecture until I can provide you and the secretary general with proof. That is why I have moved so quickly. Not only are Anjins on Carroll and his wife, but I have planted sensors in their residence and the senator’s office.”

“Those are some of the most secure areas in the Confederation. How is that possible?”

Istas just smiled. “I will not tell you everything, but we use a swarm of sensors. They are released either in the building or outside of the building. They are intelligent enough to find their way into the building and spread themselves out so every angle in every room is covered. They network together and what they record is fed to an outside transmitter. It uses burst transmissions that are not detectable.”

“What about the regular sweeps and the anti-surveillance?”

“The sensors are passive and only record. When they do transmit, it is compressed and transmitted in a burst of less than a second. No electronic countermeasures have ever been able to detect them.”

Usiche shook her head. “You continue to amaze me, Little One. What about the Von Fleet connection you suspect?”

When Usiche called her “Little One,” Istas knew that she had accepted her actions. “I hope to find out enough to point me in the right direction.”

Usiche finished her drink. “When will all of this pay off?”

“It’s up to them now. We’ll have to be patient. I’m very pleased with the sensor placement and the people on the mission. It should not be long. If we are lucky, a matter of days.”

Usiche smiled a smile that Istas recognized.

“Would you please take off that robe now?” Usiche asked.

Slowly Istas slipped out of her robe, exposing her perfect, slim, muscular body. She stood nude, enjoying the growing excitement in Usiche’s eyes. Then she walked slowly toward Usiche, her eyes holding Usiche’s with a promise of a night of pleasure. She sat down in Usiche’s lap and gently kissed her neck. Usiche shivered.

“I’m very tired, Little One, you may have to take the lead.”

“Oh.”

Istas kissed her neck again.

“My.”

Istas kissed her ear.

“I think I can manage.”

Istas kissed Usiche on the mouth.

Lyten System

Rift

Oheo City

The Mache Bar

Corporal Ja Hu and Sergeant Mala Nani were doing what Marines had done since time immemorial when they had a liberty. They were getting drunk. It had been months since their last liberty. First there was Rift. Both had been wounded and had spent weeks recovering and months in rehab. Then both had volunteered for the Raiders and there had been a lengthy selection process, training, and the raid on 703. Now, finally, they had liberty with several months of back pay in their pockets and nothing but time on their hands. Each had the first tall, cold drinks of the night in front of them. Mala raised her drink and took a sip. Ja did the same. They looked at each other and smiled. Almost in unison they said, “It’s going to be drunk out tonight.”

They laughed together. Mala insisted they perform the ceremony at the beginning of each night of drinking.

“Since when hasn’t it been drunk out?” Hu said.

“We’ll know when to slow down when it doesn’t go down that smoothly. But for now we’re still sliding right along.”

They were sitting in the most expensive bar in Oheo on Rift. Rift and the whole Lyten system had become the center of the Confederation’s war preparations, and the bar was full of high-ranking military and civilian contractors. Every civilian had at least one beautiful woman on their arm, and most of the women were offworlders who had been drawn by the money being made in the preparations for war. The civilians were contractors repairing the harbor and selling the military some weapon or technology. Ja and Nani were the only two enlisted in the room.

They had drawn more than one annoyed stare from military brass and civilian men. The women, on the other hand, had stared at them both with frank interest. Nani had drawn more than her share of stares. Hu felt jealous. Even though he knew there was nothing to feel jealous about, he could not help himself. He had never been involved with a woman like Nani before. She was like no one he had ever seen—pretty, but more sexy than she was pretty. She moved with the feline grace that only years in the military gave a woman, and she was with him.

The restaurant had low lighting and cozy booths with glowing lights that hovered over the table. They sat at a table that overlooked the rift the planet had been named for. The mile-deep fissure reached for a thousand miles each way from their vantage point. The sun was setting, casting a yellow-and-red light show through the large windows that lined one wall. It was so peaceful compared to the past months that Hu almost forgot what he had seen on 703. Yet even now in this peaceful and quiet place, the nightmare vision of what the Xotoli had done to the children was not far from the surface. Hu downed his beer and looked around for a waiter. This place was so exclusive they had real waiters instead of the usual bot or table service. He caught the eye of one nearby and held up his glass.