First Strike, - [best free ebook reader for android TXT] 📗

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,