I’ve made many command decisions in my life, but no matter how many times that responsibility falls on you, how many years you bear that burden, it never gets any easier.
Some of those decisions were made in haste, others after careful consideration. Some led to great success, others to disappointment and failure. Many were clearly important at the time, decisions I knew would have massive, long-lasting implications. Others seemed more routine, their true consequence not clear until much later.
Some of the most momentous decisions I have made did not reveal themselves as such at first. It was only later, after the results became clear, that I realized I had issued orders I would never forget.
When you think back later, after you know the terrible cost of your edicts, it is hard to imagine the routine, matter-of-fact way you made you snapped out those commands, issued orders with no idea how fateful they would become.
These are the hardest ones to live with afterward, those you didn’t see as significant when you make them. It may have been impossible to foresee their true consequence, but you never feel that way later; you always wonder, questioning what you’d done, pondering if you’d heeded things more carefully if it would have made a difference. If a battle lost could have been won. If soldiers lost could have been saved. But there is no way to know. You are left only with doubt and regret. And the loss that resulted from your orders.
“Colonel Black will go with you, General. Until you are able to communicate effectively with your troops, and hopefully rally them to our cause, we will have to rely primarily on mine.” Taylor’s eyes shifted to the small cluster of men standing behind Ralfieri. “And your people here, of course.” All of Ralfieri’s companions had rallied to him, agreeing to follow their general in joining Taylor’s Crusade.
“Thank you, General Taylor.” He turned his head to face the officer standing next to Taylor. “And you, Colonel Black.”
Black nodded. Ralfieri could tell there was something going on between Black and Taylor, some discomfort or disagreement at least. It wasn’t what he’d expected between Taylor and his exec, but he didn’t think too much of it. He realized he couldn’t begin to appreciate the stress the men of the AOL had borne since they’d resolved to fight their way home to take on an entire world.
“Colonel Black, please organize a force of 300 men to accompany General Ralfieri. Your mission is to find Inquisitor Vanderberg and Secretary Keita.” Ralfieri and Taylor had discussed everything that had to be done before they could safely address the troops still in the lines and seek to recruit them for the Crusade. They were both aware now of the terrible consequences of Vanderberg’s interference with Taylor’s original appeal to the soldiers of Juno, and they were determined to ensure that never happened again. “It is essential that Vanderberg and all of his men are hunted down and killed. Even his subordinates represent a considerable danger to our efforts.”
Taylor didn’t have any interest in capturing a UN Inquisitor or any of his henchmen. He couldn’t even imagine the horrendous things Vanderberg had probably done, how many helpless civilians his people had tortured and massacred. How many men and women they’d dragged off in the night to disappear in some reeducation camp. There was no mercy in him for such creatures, no pity at all. There wasn’t much point in ordering Black to capture the bastard just so Taylor could put a bullet in his head.
“If possible, you are to try to capture Secretary Keita and bring him back alive.” Keita was a different matter entirely. Taylor had no more empathy for a member of the Secretariat than he did for an Inquisitor, but Anan Keita was one of the most highly placed men on Earth. He was likely a treasure-trove of useful information, and Taylor wanted whatever intel could be squeezed out of the wretch.
“Yes, General.” Black’s tone was still chilly, though not as frigid as it had been. He stared at Taylor for a few seconds, his mouth slightly open, looking as if he wanted to say something. But he just saluted and turned to walk away.
Taylor turned back toward Ralfieri. “Good luck, General.”
“Thank you, General Taylor.” Ralfieri saluted Taylor, the first time he had done that. Then he spun around on his heels, following Black and motioning for his small group of men to follow.
Taylor watched them walk away. He knew the mission was difficult and dangerous, but there was no other way. The stakes were enormous. There were at least 12,000 of Ralfieri’s men still in the line. They were remnants of both the Black Corps and UN Force Juno. If the mission succeeded, if Vanderberg and Keita were neutralized, there was a good chance most of those soldiers would join the AOL, swelling its depleted ranks. Taylor and Ralfieri would address them together and, without the Inquisitor’s brutal repression, he was optimistic they could reach most of them.
If the mission failed, the blood would continue to flow. Taylor’s battered survivors would carry on their apocalyptic fight, a wasteful struggle against men who should be their allies, not their enemies. Even if they won in the end, there would be so few of them left they’d have no chance of success on Earth.
Taylor watched the party walk slowly away, wondering if just over 300 men were about to undertake the decisive operation of the war.
The sergeant at the checkpoint held up his hands, signaling the lead transport to stop. The trucks were from the AOL, but they bore no markings or insignia. They were the same kind the Juno forces and Black Corps used, but with no identification they aroused suspicion from the sentries.
Evans jumped out of the front cab and walked slowly toward the cluster of troops standing in the convoy’s path. He wanted to keep the guards away from the transports, hoping they wouldn’t decide to do a search. He held his hands out in front of him, making it clear he had no weapon at the ready. “I am Major Thomas Evans, Sergeant. My detachment is transporting captured trucks and supplies to the rear.”
Evans continued walking forward. His stomach was tight. The trucks were filled with Taylor’s veterans, their weapons at the ready. If the sergeant insisted on checking out the vehicles, there was going to be one hell of a firefight more than ten kilometers away from the Portal. There was no doubt Black’s men could take out the sentries, but the alarm would be raised, and they wouldn’t stand a chance of making it to their destination.
“Excuse me, sir. Inquisitor Vanderberg ordered tightened security around the Portal zone.” The Sergeant sounded a little nervous. A veteran major was a terrifying beast, and the non-com was trying hard to sound respectful. “I just need to do a positive ID before I wave you through.” He reached down and pulled a small palm scanner from a box at his feet.
“Very well, Sergeant.” Evans took another few steps and held out his arm. “But then we must be going. We’re on a tight schedule.”
The sergeant held the scanner out, and Evans placed his palm on top. The device lit up briefly then beeped softly. “You can remove your hand, sir.” The sergeant looked down at the scanner. “Very well, Major Evans. You may proceed.”
Evans turned and walked back to the lead transport. He wanted to run, to get through the checkpoint as quickly as possible, but that would only raise suspicion. He moved smartly, but not too quickly, and he made sure not to look back as he did.
Evans climbed into the cab of the transport and signaled for the driver to move. He was relieved to see the sergeant and his men moving the barricade out of the convoy’s way. He allowed himself a small sigh as the trucks moved forward, carrying Colonel Black and his 300 men plus General Ralfieri and a section of Black Corps troopers.
Evans was a veteran with years of combat experience, but he could feel the sweat soaking his shirt, and his heart was beating like a drum in his chest. He’d never been in a situation like this, sneaking to the rear of his own army. It wasn’t just the fight he expected with Vanderberg’s men. It was what came next. Could Ralfieri and Taylor get through to the forces deployed along the line? Would they manage to convince them all of the terrible truth? Or would the Black Corps and UN Force Juno fracture, begin fighting each other? In the coming fight, his fate would be in his own hands, at least to a considerable extent. But once they secured the Portal and dealt with Vanderberg’s men, he would have nothing to do but sit back and see what happened. And Thomas Evans hated feeling helpless.
They were through the first hurdle, at least. Now they just had to take on an Inquisitor and all of his men – and any other troops stationed around the Portal if Ralfieri couldn’t get them to stand down.
“Let’s go, boys. Move!” Tony Black stood behind one of the transports, waving his arms as he urged his men forward. “Kill any of the Inquisitor’s men on sight. Everyone else is off-limits unless you’re in a life or death defensive situation.”
Ralfieri was on the com already, ordering the Black Corps and UN Force Juno soldiers to stand down, not to fire on the forces attacking Vanderberg and his men. He was their commander, and they had no love for the brutal Inquisitor who’d ordered hundreds of their comrades executed. But they had all grown up in the UNGov era, conditioned their whole lives to fear Inquisitors. Black liked Ralfieri, and he could see his former enemy was a capable and charismatic leader. Hopefully his men would obey his commands and ignore the inevitable counter-orders from Vanderberg. The forces on Erastus had all rallied to Taylor, but it had been a close thing there too, and they’d come close to a fight. Could they get lucky again?
Black watched the last man hop out of the cargo hold, and he spun on his heels and followed his men. He had his assault rifle in his hands, and he set it for single shots. The Juno forces were going to be scattered all around with Vanderberg’s men. It wasn’t a situation where Black’s people could go in blazing away on full auto. Not without killing a lot of potential new allies.
“All UN soldiers, this is Colonel Black of the Army of Liberation. We are here with the authorization of General Antonio Ralfieri, and our sole targets are the Inquisitor and his men. You will not be attacked if you do not fire upon us.” Black knew Ralfieri had already issued orders to stand down, but he figured it might be useful for the men on the line to hear it from the leader of the armed force bearing down on them.
He switched back to the forcewide com and addressed his own men. “Take fucking care who you shoot, all of you. You know what the targets look like. The first one of you who hits anyone but a deputy is going to have to deal with me. And that’s before General Taylor gets to you.” Vanderberg’s men wore black uniforms, and the UN regulars wore light brown, so there was no likely confusion there. Despite the name, the Black Corps wore charcoal gray fatigues. The color was close enough to black to get confused with the Inquisitor’s men unless his people were careful. Black knew that one targeting mistake, one idle Black Corps soldier shot by one of his troopers, could start a huge firefight between forces who should be allies. “So be fucking careful, all of you.”
There was a commotion all around the Portal as they approached. Vanderberg’s deputies were taking positions behind crates, trucks, whatever cover they could find. Ralfieri’s transmission had tipped them off, but there had been no other choice. Ralfieri’s address was the only chance to get the Juno forces to stand down and stay out of the fight.
Black heard gunfire up ahead. A rattle of singe shots from his men, followed by automatic fire from the defenders. He crouched down and advanced cautiously, stopping at a pile of crates covered with a tarp. It was good cover, and the position offered him a strong vantage point.
The Inquisitor’s troops were in good positions, behind cover and firing indiscriminately, unconcerned with any collateral damage they inflicted. His own men were pinned down behind whatever cover they could find, returning the enemy fire slowly, cautiously. It was hard to pick out and positively ID the enemy targets in cover, and they could see there were plenty of Juno regulars in their fields of fire too.
Black sighed. This was a must-do mission. There was no easy way in, no method to distinguish the targets at this range. His people were going to have to rush the position and finish the fight at close range. He didn’t want to think about how many of his men were going to be slaughtered racing across that open ground, but he couldn’t think of any option. His people were never going to pick off the Inquisitor’s people at this range, not without hosing down the whole position. And that would kill hundreds of the regulars too.
He took a deep breath, willing himself to order his people to attack. His bent his legs, muscles tense, ready to spring forward. If he was ordering men to charge through that fire, he was goddamned going with them. He was just about to give the command when all hell broke loose in the enemy position.
It was fire, but it wasn’t the machine guns of Vanderberg’s people. The sound of assault rifles, hundreds of them, ripped through the air, firing irregularly. The automatic fire dropped off and nearly stopped, and he could hear shouts and the sounds of battle from the enemy position.
Ralfieri’s men! That was the only answer, Black thought, his stomach clenched with excitement. It all made sense. They hated the Inquisitor and his thugs who had slaughtered their comrades. Ralfieri’s message gave them the courage to rise up, Black thought, and by God, that’s just what they are doing.
“The Juno forces are fighting the Inquisitor’s troops, boys. Let’s get in there and help them.” Black popped his half-spent cartridge and reloaded. “Remember, we don’t want to hit any friendlies, so make sure what you’re aiming at before you fire.” There will be close fighting before this is over, Black thought. Knife work.
“Charge!”