and overbearing inside the suits.
“Quiet. This is Lieutenant Spartan, can anybody hear me?”
“Spartan...is that you? I thought we’d lost you down there.”
“Yeah, I’ve got you, Morato. We lost contact in the tunnel, what’s going on with the comms?”
“There’s something down there, near the shaft. The drone got close, but all I managed to get was a sealed door and then lots of noises. The drone lost contact before I could withdraw it safely. Now I’m not even receiving the status signal.”
Spartan looked over to Marcus, expecting a suggestion. He nodded before speaking.
“I’ve heard about this kind of gear before. They use them to secure conference rooms and facilities. It must be a high power form of damping generator or unit. They must be protecting something in there.”
Spartan looked at his men, then back into the tunnel.
“Lovett, Keller, get your men ready. We will have to rely on hand signals and good old-fashioned violence. We’ll take both squads in. Something tells me we are going to need the numbers. You all ready?”
The Vanguards Marines nodded, each waiting for the order to commence the operation.
“Sergeant Morato, we are going in. I will leave two marines here for you to stay in contact with. Let Hobbs know what’s happening. If we don’t return in ten minutes you know what to do.”
“Evacuate the site?” she said with a subtle hint of sarcasm.
“No, you mount up and get the rest of the marines down here to save our asses!” he replied seriously.
“Understood, Sir! Good hunting!”
Spartan looked to the rest of the Vanguards, each was covered in the grime, oil and filth from working underground. It was hard to tell exactly who was who. He could normally reply upon the tactical network fitted to each suit, but with the dampening field out there, they would just be a group of men in armour. Even so, they were all fully operational, well armed and raring to go. With his single hand gesture they split up into two files, Spartan and Marcus at the front, the rest following. One more signal and they moved off. Each was carefully checking for signs of danger.
The two full squads gave Spartan ample numbers for almost any scenario, but the lack of working communication gear or data networking, meant he had to reply on his own eyes and sensors as he moved forward. After fifty metres, the tunnel became wider until they were walking on recently placed concrete.
“Strange,” he muttered quietly and stepped further ahead. The walls were reinforced and ribbed, where metal reinforcement beams must have been crossed to secure the tunnel. On the thermal imaging unit, a number of slightly different colours showed about twenty metres further on. They were much too small to be people. Spartan lifted his hand for them to stop, lowering his weapon arms while he double-checked.
The thermal imager showed almost no discernable details and the dust in the area making the lamps almost useless. The more power he redirected, the brighter the cloud of dirt. He changed the settings until one, the electronic warfare sensor, flagged something ahead as a possible power source.
“Must be the dampening field,” he whispered quietly and then stepped forward. Right behind him the rest of the Vanguard Marines followed, each scanning left to right. The two at the rear moved backwards, checking for potential enemies.
Inside the confines of the armoured suit, Spartan was starting to feel a little stiff. Stretching his left arm, he twisted his neck slightly. As he moved, he spotted something, a flick of light. Then his right arm knocked back as if he had punched a metal barrier.
“Shit!”
More metal projectiles hurled through the tunnel, each one tearing chunks from the walls or clanging against the thick, hardened armour of the Vanguards. More rounds smashed into Spartan’s chest, one even cracked the glass visor. He protected his face with his left arm and looked about at his men. One Vanguard
“Quiet. This is Lieutenant Spartan, can anybody hear me?”
“Spartan...is that you? I thought we’d lost you down there.”
“Yeah, I’ve got you, Morato. We lost contact in the tunnel, what’s going on with the comms?”
“There’s something down there, near the shaft. The drone got close, but all I managed to get was a sealed door and then lots of noises. The drone lost contact before I could withdraw it safely. Now I’m not even receiving the status signal.”
Spartan looked over to Marcus, expecting a suggestion. He nodded before speaking.
“I’ve heard about this kind of gear before. They use them to secure conference rooms and facilities. It must be a high power form of damping generator or unit. They must be protecting something in there.”
Spartan looked at his men, then back into the tunnel.
“Lovett, Keller, get your men ready. We will have to rely on hand signals and good old-fashioned violence. We’ll take both squads in. Something tells me we are going to need the numbers. You all ready?”
The Vanguards Marines nodded, each waiting for the order to commence the operation.
“Sergeant Morato, we are going in. I will leave two marines here for you to stay in contact with. Let Hobbs know what’s happening. If we don’t return in ten minutes you know what to do.”
“Evacuate the site?” she said with a subtle hint of sarcasm.
“No, you mount up and get the rest of the marines down here to save our asses!” he replied seriously.
“Understood, Sir! Good hunting!”
Spartan looked to the rest of the Vanguards, each was covered in the grime, oil and filth from working underground. It was hard to tell exactly who was who. He could normally reply upon the tactical network fitted to each suit, but with the dampening field out there, they would just be a group of men in armour. Even so, they were all fully operational, well armed and raring to go. With his single hand gesture they split up into two files, Spartan and Marcus at the front, the rest following. One more signal and they moved off. Each was carefully checking for signs of danger.
The two full squads gave Spartan ample numbers for almost any scenario, but the lack of working communication gear or data networking, meant he had to reply on his own eyes and sensors as he moved forward. After fifty metres, the tunnel became wider until they were walking on recently placed concrete.
“Strange,” he muttered quietly and stepped further ahead. The walls were reinforced and ribbed, where metal reinforcement beams must have been crossed to secure the tunnel. On the thermal imaging unit, a number of slightly different colours showed about twenty metres further on. They were much too small to be people. Spartan lifted his hand for them to stop, lowering his weapon arms while he double-checked.
The thermal imager showed almost no discernable details and the dust in the area making the lamps almost useless. The more power he redirected, the brighter the cloud of dirt. He changed the settings until one, the electronic warfare sensor, flagged something ahead as a possible power source.
“Must be the dampening field,” he whispered quietly and then stepped forward. Right behind him the rest of the Vanguard Marines followed, each scanning left to right. The two at the rear moved backwards, checking for potential enemies.
Inside the confines of the armoured suit, Spartan was starting to feel a little stiff. Stretching his left arm, he twisted his neck slightly. As he moved, he spotted something, a flick of light. Then his right arm knocked back as if he had punched a metal barrier.
“Shit!”
More metal projectiles hurled through the tunnel, each one tearing chunks from the walls or clanging against the thick, hardened armour of the Vanguards. More rounds smashed into Spartan’s chest, one even cracked the glass visor. He protected his face with his left arm and looked about at his men. One Vanguard
Similar Books
