Red Letter Days/Chapter Four

Previous Chapter: Chapter Three: Tactical Superiority

Chapter Four: New Kids in Town


 * ''Epsilon Indi System
 * ''UN colony: Second Base
 * ''Pvt. 1st class Leonard Schaeffer
 * ''Raiding Garmed City Bank

The next twenty minutes had gone easily enough, the marines stormed the front of the building, or at least the remains of it. Each man moved with a sharp elegance that showed both fear and drilled precision. Every man was tense and ready, at least the marines from 1st platoon who led them all inside. The marines of second and third platoon were more lax, second had only encountered some men with old rifles and thus were much more relaxed. Third platoon had encountered no one, so they moved with absolute casualness, they had a hint of fear in their mind... yet none of them knew true fear. The fear that roots in a mans head when he almost dies and stays there till they day they pass on. Schaeffer had that, nibbling at the back of his skull and so did the entire platoon. Every man was changed when the firsts shots rang out, and although they did not know it, they were completely different then the platoons following them. They had seen war.

But such matters were trivial at the moment, this was a war, and a war had to be fought. The lobby was clear, body parts were strewn about. The fire department had managed to clear out most of it before they could get there but were scared off by some warning shots after they finished fighting the fire. The lieutenant quickly barked for some sergeant or another to do this and that and before long, everyone was moving. Third platoon was to secure the lobby and the plaza outside and await further orders, second platoon would secure the building while first would be making a bee line to the top where the heat signatures were found.

Schaeffer cursed under his breath, the lieutenant was pushing them harder then he had to. He just wanted to sit down and find a book to read, Sergeant Atterson was yelling at some one to 'tie his fucking laces' and the platoon was waiting a moment for a Lance Corporal named 'Red' to piss in a corner and Schaeffer stepped up to the sergeant, hoping to ask why exactly they were being pushed so hard. "We are moving because we are better." Was all the sergeant said, Schaeffer frowned.

"But we just lost how many men again? The one guy was shot off the turret, and the other was-"

"I know how many we lost, Newbie. But look at third platoon, they would sprint into an ambush if they think it would earn them a medal. And Lieutenant Galbieth and Sunny are both horrible at their jobs. Why would LT B let them fuck up the most important part of the op..?" He took a breath, yelled something at some one and then finished, "...you know, if you used that thick skull to be a marine instead of bitching you might manage to get a promotion some day." Schaeffer sighed and turned away, the platoon was taking a moment as the lieutenant argued with TACCOM, demanding more info on what he was getting into.

Schaeffer plopped down on the scorched desk that was once the center of the building. There used to be a large statue of a lion he thought, but it was mostly blasted away. The long table stretched around the statue in a circle and the once fine mahogany was simply blasted to black. It was a shame, such well made woods were rare on planets like Second Base, who's only trees were rather rugged and not fit for finer woods. The tile floor may have been clean and polished, but many of the tiles were blown away by the explosion, in the back of the floor was a large crater. The explosion had such force that it had blown away the front wall of the lobby away, nearly forty feet away. Schaeffer felt the churning in his stomach grow more rough as he stared at a puddle of blood behind the desk.

Looking away, he looked around again. A once fine chandelier was smashed across the floor, two staircases went around the lobby in a winding manner before meeting at a balcony in the back that led in deeper. If one followed it they would find an elevator, some one yelled the wires were cut. The stairway and balcony had steel railings that went nicely with the white tiles, and a light blue glass prevented anyone from sliding under. The glass wasn't much however, a person who wanted to go under could do so easily by simply breaking it, the explosion had left only small portions of the glass remaining on each frame.

"Shit stain! Get off the desk and stop jacking off, we are moving!" Shouted Smi- Venendez. Schaeffer glanced over and sighed, time having moved faster than he expected. As he glanced outside, he saw grey storm clouds slowly making their way to them. Judging from the temperature, it would be snowing by midday. Schaeffer made sure his assault rifle was ready one last time and jogged in with his fireteam, at a shout from the lieutenant, the squads were soon splitting up, and at a shout from Atterson, the fireteams were soon splitting up.

Atterson was with them, being first team. The others were in adjacent hallways but were close enough that their occasional blips of conversation could be mutely heard when Schaeffer pressed up close enough to a wall. They moved carefully, more so than when they entered the building. The chances of an ambush in this part of the building was much higher than anywhere else and he was truly scared of every small pile of papers or discarded item. Lord knew what exactly where the rebels could decide to stash an IED.

But they moved uneventfully, before long, they found themselves at a large staircase closer to the back of the building. The squads converged on the location, unable to find another staircase, and they were soon moving up. They had many floors to cover, and their rifles were always pointing at the ceiling.

By the fifth floor, Schaeffer felt a glimmer of sweat on his brow. By the tenth, he was panting a bit, by the fifteenth, he felt his legs would fall off. They needed to get to the twenty first story, the roof, where UAV's were telling them the rebels had brought their captive.

The fun of an easy but exhausting trip up the stairwell was cut short when they heard a ping and saw a grenade dropping from one of the stairwells. The grenade smacked the floor and rolled to Schaeffer's feet, he only had a half a moment to think when Monroe dived back and sent them both flailing down the stairwell. Schaeffer felt his back connect with Mackenzie's front and then every man on the stairwell was yelling and falling back. It seemed not a second later that the grenade detonated, and Schaeffer's ears were filled with a deafening bang. Schaeffer... or Mackenzie for that matter, slammed into the concrete floor hard. They were lucky not to have snapped anyone's neck or their own for that matter on the trip down. Just as Schaeffer was about to take a breath of air, Monroe slammed into him and fell to his side.

Schaeffer let out the air in his lungs and gasped desperately, the pain in his shoulder flaring back up at the sudden force of Monroe's body. As his senses came back to him, he heard the cracking of gunfire and saw some figures leaning over the stairwell above them. They had no cover, and Schaeffer was scrambling away as soon as he found his breath again. Atterson screamed for a private named Massih to use his grenade launcher, and soon the marine was firing the explosive at the staircase three stories above them. There was an explosion and the concrete crumbled, the stairs breaking away. A body fell, the man screaming, before slamming into the railing with a sickening crunch and flipping back over to the floor below.

The rebels scattered away like rats and the stairway crumbled concrete down onto their helmets. When they were satisfied that there was no one else coming, Red stood up from his crouched position behind a railing and reloaded a rifle, before slipping off his helmet and rubbing the sweat from his brow. Schaeffer could see why they called him red now, his hair was a strawberry red, hardly dark and short enough to be regulation. The man dusted his hands and spoke casually, as if they hadn't almost died.

"Well it looks like that guy had a tumble." Was all he said, as casual as if he was referencing some rumor he heard in passing. Schaeffer frowned a bit at his Russian accent, or Rukevitch, the two being nearly identical to his ears. He had only heard a few in his life, Russian really only being common in the inner colonies. He decided not to ask.

"Yeah, wonder if he snapped his spine..." asked Massih, his tan skin in heavy contrast to the pale features of Red.

"Yeah, I wonder if you chuckle fucks will shut up so we can get moving again." Snapped Atterson. Shaking his head, he went over to Monroe and frowned.

"You shoved me down the stair ass hole." Was all he said, rubbing his sides which were sore from the fall. Monroe narrowed his eyes.

"I am sorry I didn't let the grenade fuck you over." Monroe said, before spitting at his feet. Schaeffer opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, he was right he realized. Taking a breath, he prepared to apologize when Monroe told him to go away. Sighing, he walked over to Mackenzie, who simply growled for having almost broken his rib. The lieutenant was screaming at everyone to start moving again, and soon they were off. They avoided the stairs this time, instead walking onto the closest floor they could. They didn't want to risk the crumbling pieces of concrete giving way under them.

Next Chapter: Chapter 5: Goodbye Wallstreet