Warsong (Hunter-Killer #2)

Chapter 31 - With Friends Like These

"Copy SC-21. This is Major Renaq, 13th Helloc Armoured, commanding AC-84," another woman replied. Her voice had a pronounced accent, with slightly rolling r's and sharp consonants. "We are on approach to bombardment positions from the north. Can you confirm contacts?"

"Nothing visual," she replied, moving over to the skiff's main display where Corporal Locke still stood, clamped in place. "According to the radar system the tunnel system has moved two hundred yards north since we deployed, so it looks like we're in the right place."

"Acknowledged. Find them, get them to the surface and we'll do the rest."

"Copy that. SC-21 out."

"Maybe someone else can be the bait next time," Locke muttered.

Brackenshaw smirked. "Maybe. For now, let's just make sure there is a next time." She tapped her earpiece, turning and mounting the ramp up to the skiff's deck. "Alright everybody, this is Sergeant Brackenshaw. Listen up. You all know the plan. Spin up your mine launchers and follow your briefing instructions, but everybody stay sharp. All gunners to your rails; we've got no mech-jockeys to back us up today, so get ready to do the dirty work yourselves for a change."

Wolfish, determined responses shot back over the comm from the other skiff commanders. Every man and woman out here was ready to get some payback, to prove that they didn't have to just wait in fear for the next assault from these subterranean demons. The eight attack craft split out into a broad formation, leaving more than twenty meters of open space between them to allow for violent manoeuvring.

"Everybody, pick your targets, and pray to the Riverlords that this works," Brackenshaw ordered as she locked her rifle into place along the firing rail. She exhaled a steadying breath. "Deploy mines."

She was answered by a shower of seismic mines from the rear mounted launchers of every skiff. Every single vehicle lobbed six of the powerful explosives high and far into the seemingly deserted badlands. While the mines forced the Scraegans to the surface by capitalising on the beasts' seismic sensitivity, the techs theorised that simply creating a big enough disturbance would be enough to draw the Crawlers out. The things acted with purely animal instinct. If you kicked them, they'd bite.

Brackenshaw couldn't decide if she was happy or terrified to see that assumption proven correct, when the first of the things came ripping up out of the sand a hundred yards ahead of them.

"All units, weapons free," she roared as one by one, more Crawlers emerged, snapping, snarling and hunting for whoever had disturbed their mindless tunnelling. "SC-21 – AC-84, we have confirmed hostile contacts. I repeat, we have confirmed hostile contacts. Moving to engage."

"Copy that," Renaq replied sharply. "We are five minutes from bombardment range. Keep them busy."

"Yes, ma'am." Brackenshaw pivoted to take aim; in the corner of her eye the front turret of the skiff traversed, drawing a bead on the closest creature.

"Keep them busy?" Corporal Hynan chuckled from a couple of spaces down. "Doesn't ask for much does she?"

The time for talking was over before she could respond.

War blew the desert apart as the scouts clashed with a hoard of Crawlers that came piling to the surface in search of prey. A fearsome storm of armour-piercing rounds ripped into the closest creatures, tearing chunks from their armour and cracking limbs. Explosive charges from scouts carrying heavier weapons detonated among them, sending tongues of fire and blizzards of shrapnel tearing into their vulnerable undersides.

Brackenshaw knew they wouldn't kill many, but right now they didn't have to. All she needed to do was keep them on this deserted stretch of hell and let Major Renaq's guns pound them into atoms.