Sacremon (Harmony War Series Book 1) (27 page)

           
“Fuck!” He felt pain midway up his calf, looking down he felt pain mingle with shock, a round had found his leg and ripped it off.

           
“Hold in there Simmons, we're sending some support in,” Pullo said, his voice haggard.

           
“Understood sir, We've got five people still in the fight, all injured.”

           
“I'm missing my fucking leg!” Mark yelled, more pissed off than anything.

           
“You fucking cunts! I like that fucking leg!” Mark pushed himself back towards the wall and edged his way out so he could see the door. The gunner was pausing between bursts, flooding the lobby with colonists.

           
Mark popped grenades off as Tyler came up behind him.

           
“Stop moving your stub damnit! I'm trying to seal it!”

           
“I can't feel the fucking thing, just fix it will you, gimme your gun.” Mark felt Tyler's gun on his shoulder, he grabbed it and hooked his shoulders around them using some debris and the grenade launcher's handle as a pivot.

           
His shoulder that had taken a direct hit screamed in pain as he fired. His augments were working to heal him, but they weren't miracle workers, and painkillers would only make him loopy instead of focused.

           
He gritted through the pain as he led twin streams across the lobby, cutting down colonists that had been trying to get over the barricade. A few had found the mines, bringing a cold smile to his face.

           
The ragged pain coming from his leg abated as Tyler reached down and grabbed his rifle. Mark popped off grenades, that mag running dry.

           
He pushed himself into cover as Jerome got in on the action, throwing grenades over the banister he was behind.

           
Mark reloaded and Tyler grabbed him.

           
“Let's get upstairs,” Tyler said.

           
Simmons had dragged the person with her back to the offices. She was injured, not severely but enough. Who’s the person?

           
Mark heard the tell-tale sound of artillery screeching through the air.

           
“Sounds like a plan,” Mark said, getting up on one foot as Tyler half carried half dragged his hooping ass to the nearest stairs. A tap of his chip opened the doors which would now only accept EMF troopers.

           
They moved to the second floor as the ground rumbled with explosions.

           
“Shit, that's out front,” Tyler said, both of them quickening their pace, barging through the second floor door as soon as it unlocked and making their best speed to the balcony. Mark jumped free of Tyler, using his right shoulder to take the hit as Jerome looked to them before quickly returning to his grenade throwing.

           
Mark and Tyler edged forward at the far sides of the balcony. Feng's mangled corpse lay in the centre. Showing just what the colonist’s machine gun could do.

           
That gun was silent but they didn't want to take chances.

           
They moved up and were met with a vision from hell, fires lit the lobby and showed the fallen bodies as grenades went off among them.

           
Outside the lobby the night was illuminated with white light as artillery shells combed the area. The massive machine gun that had been mounted to the back of an air-transport was on fire.

           
“Jerome, hold off on the grenades,” Tyler said. Mark moved his rifle up and put bursts into those that were trying to gain access to the tower, trying to escape the hell outside.

           
New fire ripped into them from below. Mark watched as troopers swarmed through the lobby and pushed the colonials back.

           
Mark shifted backwards over the rubble and debris from the metal Bannister and the roof that had fallen on the shooters.

           
Tyler looked to Jerome, checking his wounds as Mark lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

           
“No time for sleeping private,” Pullo said.

           
Mark tilted his head up and found the Second lieutenant and two medics moving towards the balcony he rested on.

           
“I would stand up, but I'd be a little lop-sided,” Mark said.

           
Pullo let out a laugh as the medics split between Mark and Jerome. Tyler leaned against the bannister.

           
One medic put what looked like a large suitcase with a hole in it on Mark's leg.

           
His leg felt,
fuzzy
was the only way he could describe it.

           
“The printer will take about forty minutes for the leg. Gonna have to get that armor off to see to the rest of the damage,” the medic said, Mark caught sight of their name tag.

           
“Hey Ferguson, none of that vaccine guinea pig shit this time,” Mark said.

           
“Mark Victor! I had the feeling that I'd be seeing you more often,” Ferguson said jokingly.

           
“Thanks, means a lot.” Mark's voice was dry as he unclipped the hoses to the air tanks on his back and un-did one side of his upper armor's clips, sliding down and sideways freeing himself of the chest, neck and shoulder armor sections.

           
He started undoing his arm armor. Ferguson was running a scanner over him and grabbing items from the outside of the suitcase around what had been Mark's leg.

           
Mark had got most of his armor off around the painful areas when Ferguson batted his hands out of the way.

           
He sprayed the area, pulled out any crap in Mark's body then gave it a healthy dose of a different spray, then another and slapped a bandage over the various injuries.

           
Ferguson had him quickly sorted out and was checking his handy-work a few moments later.

           
“Oh for the love of corporations!” Mark said as he got two needles.

           
“You should get some new smart-clothes, armor and a meal, about two hours’ rest and you'll be fine,” Ferguson admonished.

           
“I'm still missing my leg,” Mark pointed out.

           
“Not for long,” Ferguson countered, leaving Mark with a perplexed look as he went to go and check on Tyler.

           
Pullo squatted next to Mark, tapping his good shoulder.

           
“Good work Mark, we only lost twenty percent getting over here and Nerva already has people working to clear the tower. There are a few hundred dead outside the lobby. Get some rest and report to me as soon as you three are ready to go.” Pullo looked to Jerome and Tyler, as well. Both of them were under the hands of the medics.

           
“Yes sir,” Mark answered.

           
“Keep that shit up and you'll all be making corporals,” Pullo said, promise in his voice.

           
“Yes sir!” Mark said a bit more enthusiastically. A Corporal's pay was a big jump up from private and an even better jump from boot. He'd be making about forty percent more if the rank stuck.

           
Pullo stood and left, probably going to see about other things as Mark settled back into the rubble.

           
He woke up to new kit being dropped next to his head.

           
“Uggh.” Mark looked up to find Gupta looking down on him.

           
“Master Corporal... the fuck?” Mark had rushed to his feet and found he had two of them once again. He looked down at it, remembering what was going on.

           
Gupta had a grin on his face, his helmet hanging by its tubes.

           
“First regrow eh? It's an odd feeling but it'll quickly feel like you were having an odd dream instead of actually losing a leg,” Gupta said, clearly very familiar with the experience.

           
“Yeah,” Mark said, unsure of what to say.

           
“Take that kit, get changed and meet the section in the first floor tower command area,” Gupta said.

           
“Master corporal,” Mark said nodding in recognition and agreement.

           
Gupta turned and left, Mark popped his helmet off, the room smelt like bodies mixed with spent rounds, burnt furniture and burnt barricades. The cermite dust in the air made Mark’s nose itchy like he was back on Earth, but without the pain of the tiny metal particles in the red dust.

He started removing the remainder of his armor, peeling off the smart-clothes and replacing it all with the kit Gupta had left on the floor.

           
“That's one hell of a heal-job,” Tyler said, looking at Mark's leg. Mark looked down at it, Gupta had been right of course, it was hard for him to think that he had lost his leg just a few hours ago. There was only a small pencil thin line to show where his old leg had ended and this one had been grown. It was white like the rest of his leg and he quickly stuffed it into pants to get his mind off of it.

           
“Yeah, how you feeling?” Mark asked Tyler who was still lying on the ground.

           
“Fine, just had some shrapnel in me. Someone grabbed our packs and dropped them off sometime ago, they're refilled as well,” Tyler said pointing his chin at two packs waiting in the middle of the balcony.

           
“Where's Jerome?”

           
“His section is up clearing the tower. As soon as Nerva got in here, he started clearing out floors with weapon emplacements and as many populated floors as possible. It looks like we're going into the meat grinder now.”

           
“How did the other attacks on the different towers go?” Mark asked.

           
“Not very well. It looks like one other tower was secured but there's about a platoon and a half in there. If the colonists try what they did here against them, from multiple lobbies they might have a chance.

           
Mark started putting his good armor back into place and swapping in new pieces from the pile. The helmet was a bit tighter than the old one but it made a solid seal with his suit and came online with his information after a few seconds.

           
“Shall we?” Tyler asked, throwing Mark his gun and getting to his feet.

           
“I guess we should.” They got their packs on and headed down to the control centre, grabbing two heated ration bowls from the small area that had been turned into a semi-mess. All they needed were the heater units that were as big as a person's hand and about five minutes to work their magic.

           
“Alright, most of the tower has been cleared, but the sections up there have been at it for four hours. We all know how shitty clearing rooms gets after that long. We're going to replace them and clear out the remaining three floors. The rest of the Platoon will be accompanying us and we will be under the command of Second Lieutenant Pullo. We're not going to give Pullo anything he needs to correct us on there's a lot of eyes on him and us.” Gupta looked around the room, his eyes resting on Mark and Tyler for a half second longer than the others.

           
“Simmons and the Victors have returned from their little vacation. Simmons you'll be my second in command. I want you all ready to go in five minutes.”

           
Ten minutes later and they were on top of two elevator's, Mark and Tyler were with Simmons and Xiao. Gupta was with Dolche and Utkin. The other platoons were following up in other elevators and the weapons detachment were keeping an eye on the other towers and making sure no one tried to rush the lobby.

           
It was still night time but Sacremon's sunrise wasn't too far away.

           
The elevator stopped on the twenty-third floor, putting them on the twenty-fourth floor. Tyler and Mark cranked on the manual door mechanism, opening it for Xiao who had his gun up and ready.

           
His repulsor lit up the elevator as he fired from side to side, cutting down the welcome party outside the elevator. The floor was at waist height for them in the elevator, giving them cover but also making it hard to get out of.

           
Xiao looked for new threats as Mark got on his hands and knees, Simmons and Tyler used him as a step covering the corridor.

           
Xiao's weight made Mark grunt, then he was the last man. It was only about mid-thigh on him, he used the elevators door to pull himself onto the floor.