Last Man Out (Poor Man's Fight Book 5) Read online

  LAST MAN OUT

  BY

  ELLIOTT KAY

  © Copyright 2018 Elliott Kay

  Cover Illustration Copyright 2018 Julie Dillon

  Line Design Copyright 2018 Lee Moyer

  Also by Elliott Kay:

  Poor Man’s Fight

  Rich Man’s War

  Dead Man’s Debt

  No Medals for Secrets

  Good Intentions

  Natural Consequences

  Days of High Adventure

  Life In Shadows

  Personal Demons

  In memory of Megan.

  Cast of Characters

  Prologue: Ashes

  Chapter One: Living the Dream

  Chapter Two: Civilian

  Chapter Three: Support Structures

  Chapter Four: Polarizing Qualities

  Chapter Five: Initiative

  Chapter Six: Icebreakers

  Chapter Seven: Tough Crowds

  Chapter Eight: Travel Hazards

  Chapter Nine: Areas of Expertise

  Chapter Ten: Dirtside

  Chapter Eleven: Ripples

  Chapter Twelve: Digging

  Chapter Thirteen: Learning Experiences

  Chapter Fourteen: Walking Over Graves

  Chapter Fifteen: Priorities

  Chapter Sixteen: Storm Clouds

  Chapter Seventeen: Opening Up

  Chapter Eighteen: Precipice

  Chapter Nineteen: Reception

  Chapter Twenty: Breaking Through

  Chapter Twenty-One: Relics

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Grudges

  Chapter Twenty-Three: All Hell

  Chapter Twenty-Four: School’s Out

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Very Important People

  Chapter Twenty-Six: All Available Hands

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Division of Labor

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Overrun

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Convergence

  Chapter Thirty: Crashing the Party

  Chapter Thirty-One: Hold On

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Street by Street

  Chapter Thirty-Three: Desperate

  Chapter Thirty-Four: Tenacity

  Chapter Thirty-Five: One Last Run

  Chapter Thirty-Six: Goalposts

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: Damage Control

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Cast of Characters

  Field School for Xenoarchaeology, University of Fremantle:

  Professor Joseph Vandenberg

  Naomi Watkins

  Kim Choi

  Antonio Chavez

  Emma Grant

  Nigel Carrington

  Wu Jishen

  Amelia Pace

  Grace Andrews

  Olivia Brown

  Gina Ramos

  Russell Jones (withdrawn)

  Tanner Malone

  Also on Fremantle:

  Constable Lisa Wright

  Danielle Temple

  Brad Thompson

  Formerly of CDC Security Services: Troy, Jim, Mickey, Yanis, Chris

  Crew of the charter yacht Phoenix:

  Lynette Kelly, Captain

  Veronica Roldan, Executive Officer

  Elise Jacobs, nurse

  Sol Ordoñez, gunner

  Sanjay Bhatia, boatswain

  Edgar Cervantes, engineer

  Jorge Salgado, engineer

  Union of Humanity:

  Secretary of Defense Charles Ohanga

  Admiral Divya Khatri

  Ambassador Sean Young

  Captain MacDonald, Union Fleet liaison to Minos

  Minos Enterprises:

  Tom Geisler, President and CEO

  Miranda Duke, CFO

  Sam Franklin, CAO

  Mitchell Vanstone, chief of police

  Vickie Edmonds, compliance

  Jack Bauman, factory shift manager

  Precision Solutions:

  Major Sheila Dylan

  Captain Ellis Conroy

  Specialist Clint Stockton

  Sergeant Malai Juntasa

  Sergeant Steve Brody

  Sergeant Davis

  Corporal Mara

  Corporal Solanke

  Corporal Garcia

  Corporal Clayton

  Private Jamie

  Private Sanders

  Private Andrade

  Private Voligny

  Minos Insurgents:

  Chen Lau

  Emily Allen, shuttle pilot

  Quan, Robbie, Ellen

  Kristi, Zhi

  Crew of the pirate ship Stalker:

  Ivan, captain

  Vince, quartermaster

  Static, bridge watch

  Archangel Navy:

  Admiral Meiling Yeoh, Chief of Naval Operations

  Cmdr. James Beacham, Chief of Staff to Admiral Yeoh

  Major Thomas Li, aide to Admiral Yeoh

  On the battleship ANS Beowulf:

  Rear Admiral Todd Branch, Commanding Officer

  Captain Alberto Santos, Executive Officer

  Commander Christina Hernandez, Operations Officer

  Lieutenant Commander Zach Corleissen, Chaplain

  Master-at-Arms 1st Class Phil Lewis

  Crewman Apprentice Ricardo Mendez

  Marines of Bravo Company:

  Captain Hancock, commanding officer

  Lieutenant Torres, leader of First Platoon

  Midshipman Alicia Wong

  Sergeant Domingo

  Corporal Ball

  Corporal Rodriguez

  Gunnery Sergeant Michelle Janeka

  Lieutenant Kilmeade, leader of Second Platoon

  Sergeant Brent Collins

  Sergeant Martin Ravenell

  Prologue:

  Ashes

  “Of the seven alien species discovered thus far, only two still exist: the Nyuyinaro and the Krokinthians. The rest died out before they could reach the stars. We know them only from ruins and fossils. It seems the galaxy is a harsh place.”

  --Introduction to Xenoarchaeology, third edition

  foreword by Professor Joseph Vandenberg

  “Insurgents in sand dunes shouldn’t be a challenge. Scan ‘em from orbit six different ways and blast the hell out of ‘em. Infantry should only be clean-up. But oh, no. Not on Minos.”

  Sergeant Davis turned his eyes skyward, something possible only under the protection of his faceplate. Optical enhancements rendered total darkness into frustrating shadow. Despite technological aid, he couldn’t make out any stars in this sandstorm.

  The only light came from his helmet and weapons systems and those of his squad mates. It didn’t travel far. The ashes of Minos swallowed visible light, along with most useful parts of the electromagnetic spectrum.

  “Ah, you’re grumpy ‘cause they pulled you out of bed,” said his patrol partner. Her voice carried through the communications net only because she was so close. Anyone beyond spitting distance spoke mostly in static. “This is a walk in the park.”

  “Parks have grass and trees to hold the soil down, Mara,” grumbled Davis. “If they seed-bombed this region a little more we’d have grasslands instead of ashes.”

  He raised his rifle to his shoulder. Infrared light streamed uselessly from emitters on the barrel and his helmet. Nothing stood out on the ash dune rising before him. No one in the squad expected further contact with the enemy. Neither did the rest of the platoon or even company command, all strung out in the dark across the dunes.

  “They tried that already years ago, didn’t they? It didn’t take,” said Mara. “Something about chemistry out here, or landscape zones or something. Lots of other spots worked out fine. Not everypla
ce is meant to go green.”

  “They didn’t spend the money to get it right,” said Davis. “We could deny ‘em the whole zone by planting some grass.”

  “Yeah, but if Minos Enterprises doesn’t spend the money on ecology, they spend it on us, right?” Mara pointed out. “We’re Precision Solutions. We’ll fix any problem in the maximum billable hours.”

  “I get enough billable hours without losing sleep,” said Davis. “We knew this would happen as soon as the storm was on the forecast. These assholes always pull something. We’re grounded and we can barely see our own hands in front of our faces. They know they’ll get away and they know we’ll waste time and resources chasing them. It’s typical insurgency shit. They can’t beat us in the field, so they want to make this planet too expensive to hold.”

  “Ha! That’s not gonna happen until somebody makes a better holocom chip,” said Mara. “In thirty years, the Big Three haven’t found higher quality than Minoan crystals. And someday the eggheads will work out how to industrialize all this ash and rock. Once they can make metal out of this shit, it’ll change everything. These settlers are contracted and paid for. Minos Enterprises isn’t letting them go.”

  Coming to the crest of the dune, the pair fell silent in a small measure of basic discipline. No targets revealed themselves through sniper fire.

  Chatter on the net eased up, too. “Tactical display, overhead,” said Davis. The map appeared over his faceplate, displaying icons for his squad and others stretching out to the left. As far as his sensors knew, Davis was the extreme right of the line. The remainder of his squad and the entire mechanized company beyond it no longer registered.

  “Son of a bitch,” he sighed. “Frazzy and her guys wandered out and broke contact again.”

  “Aw, hell.”

  “This is why people need to pay attention to training. You can’t let the computer do all your thinking. Sometimes we need actual skills like night movement and land navigation. God forbid we need some actual marksmanship tonight, too.”

  The wind picked up, and with it the dust. His lip curled back with things he dared not say on a recorded channel, but he had to say something. “Platoon, this is Davis. Squaddies to my right have stretched out of communications range. We need to shift right to reestablish contact.”

  “Understood,” came the reply, faint and garbled despite going through a fresh relay with each trooper along the chain. “Don’t go far. Come back left if you have trouble.”

  “Oh!” exclaimed Mara. Davis whirled to look. Mara pointed her rifle at a lump in the sand and kicked it hard. “Don’t move! Hands where I can see them. Slowly.”

  “Help,” gasped the dark lump. Shaking hands emerged from a hooded coat covered by ashes. Davis reached down to pull the man over. He looked withered and bewildered, his eyes barely opening. “Who’s there? Help.”

  “He doesn’t look like an insurgent,” said Mara. “Christ, I walked right into him.”

  “Watch for trouble,” said Davis. The stranger looked long overdue for a longevity treatment. Davis found an old holocom on his wrist. “Precision Solutions. Holocom security override. Identification and medical status.”

  A holographic screen appeared over the man with his identity and his suspended employment status. “Dehydration, anemia, heat exhaustion. Fucker’s been out here a while,” said Davis. “I don’t think he’s an insurgent. Hey, old man, what the fuck are you doing out here?”

  “Puh…prospecting,” said the stranger.

  “He’s got a bag here,” said Mara.

  “Careful,” Davis warned.

  “N-no,” the man groaned.

  Bits of obsidian spilled from his upended sack, resembling broken plates and bowls. A few cloth-wrapped bundles rolled out of the bottom. “Ancient Minoan shit,” said Mara. “Guess he found a good spot for artifacts. These are worth a little cash.”

  “So thirsty,” the man pleaded.

  “All that stuff isn’t worth lugging out of here on foot,” said Davis. He picked up one of the bundles. The cloth unfurled, releasing a rough orb of crystal half the size of his fist.

  “Holy fuck.” Mara knelt to look at the orb. Indentations ran along its sides in symmetrical curves. “Davis, this is high-grade stuff, better than the mines. These are worth a fortune. He could probably buy out his contract with all this.”

  “Was gonna turn them in,” rasped the prospector. “The company pays for… for finding…”

  Davis put his hand on the old man’s neck. Nobody would think twice about a dehydrated man’s death out here—except his helmet recorded everything. “Shit,” Davis fumed. A glance at Mara suggested she’d come to the same conclusion. “Where’d you find this stuff? Where’s your stash? Is there an old ruin out here?”

  The conversation ended with a loud boom forward and to the right of their position. Davis spun with his rifle up. Dim red and orange lights flickered over the edge of the next dune, barely differentiated from scanner noise. Chatter over the net turned to urgent calls nearly swallowed by static.

  “Fuck,” Davis grunted.

  “I’ve got this spot marked,” said Mara. She stomped on the old man’s ankle, drawing out a cracked wail of pain. “He’s not going anywhere.”

  “Right.” The pair abandoned him to hustle down the side of the dune. “Platoon, Davis,” he called. “Contact on my right. Say again, contact on my right. Shots fired, moving in.”

  The pair climbed the next dune, slowed by ash that sank to the knee. Urgency and conditioning kept them going. Only broken, garbled words answered his call. Davis worried he and Mara had already moved too far along the relay chain. In this mess, his whole company might as well be on the other side of the planet.

  Another boom washed over the crest of the dune accompanied by a clearly visible flash. The silence over the net worried him: by now they should have heard from Frazzy or someone else on her fire team. “Talk to me, people,” he barked.

  Broken words drifted back. Softer, redder flashes of light highlighted the crest of the dune. Visibility improved and the winds eased. Davis didn’t question the small improvements—not when he found one of his own sprawled out on his back in a darkened crater on the downward slope.

  Red beams from lasers and the muzzle flashes of automatic weapons lit up the trough of the dune. Three of his people held the bottom, sensibly spread out in a small arc as they fired across a flat black surface of stone.

  Carved lines ran along its length and breadth, making up bits of a larger pattern buried by the surrounding dunes. The deliberate hand of craftsmanship was unmistakable. They fought across a broad floor, a road, or perhaps the roof of some ancient structure.

  Return fire came in at his squad from the other end of the surface. The shooters were dug into the base of the next dune some forty meters away, half-buried in the ash with cloaks or blankets over their shoulders. At first glance, Davis counted perhaps five in all.

  A low thump from one insurgent’s weapon preceded another explosion on Davis’s side of the battlefield. This time, he clearly heard the cry of wounded squad mates. Davis brought his rifle to his shoulder and fired.

  Mara joined in. Well-aimed fire quickly evened the numbers as each scored hits, burning fatal wounds through one insurgent and leaving another crumpled face-first in the dust.

  Return fire lit up the dune all around them. Some came from the top of the next dune up ahead. The insurgents had been smart enough to keep someone in reserve.

  “Mara,” said Davis.

  “I’ve got him.” The pair came only halfway down the hill before Mara fired again. Davis kept going. He trusted her aim. Within a few more steps, he didn’t have to worry about the guy atop the next dune.

  Only one of his squad mates at the bottom fought on. The insurgent’s grenade had taken out the rest. Thankfully, the remaining insurgents didn’t push their luck. One fired wildly to cover the others as they hustled up their dune to escape.

  “Status. Tactical status,” Dav
is demanded. The heads-up display on his helmet identified each member of the fire team. Lin was dead, as was Thomas at the top of the dune. Frazzy’s vitals didn’t look too bad, though she was still on her side. Only Private Yu was unharmed.

  Lasers flashed overhead. Davis looked up, ready to shoot, only to find the trailing ambusher tumbling down the dune, trailing smoke from Mara’s lasers. She kept shooting at the rest.

  “Yu, it’s Davis,” the sergeant said as he came to the private’s side. “You’re okay?”

  “Yeah. Sarge, we never saw ‘em coming.”

  “Take care of Frazzy. Mara, c’mon.” Davis ran forward, glad for the flat surface allowing him to cross the distance at full speed. Mara followed close behind. He missed his chance to plug the last bastards before they made it over the dune. He and Mara would catch up fast.

  They weren’t as fast as Yu. The private flew noiselessly past them, never touching the floor until he hit the opposing dune upside down and unmoving.

  Davis and Mara turned back. The cause of Yu’s broken flight stood over the fallen fire team in jet black stone, humanoid but with its knees turned backward and limbs too long to be human. A deep, glowing red light ran across and down its otherwise featureless face in a T-shaped intersection. Flakes of ash slipped from its jagged shoulders and limbs, freshly emerged from the ground.

  The thing stepped away from Frazzy’s still prone form, casting aside Yu’s rifle.

  “What the fuck?” Davis breathed. He opened fire. So did Mara.

  If their lasers did any harm, it didn’t show. The thing sprang at them on those legs shaped to move more like a prancing cat than a human.

  “Back up, back up!” Davis ordered. He pulled his pistol as Mara kept firing, hoping perhaps a solid projectile might do some good.

  The living statue moved fast. One of its arms swept aside the mercenary’s own on the way to his head. Everything went dark as Davis spun and fell face first into the dune.