Heads on a Swivel

“Oh boy!” said Flynn with a high-pitched voice. “Going out to shoot Innies again!” Some scattered chuckles and half-hearted witticisms were thrown around.
“Is the AA tank coming with us again?” asked Li.
“I think so,” answered Zuberi.
“Hey, Ruth,” started the sarge, Papadopoulos. “Keep your head on a swivel.”
“Yes, sir,” I answered. The whole company got up and out of the firebase, and headed out in an S&D mission. The march through the woods began, with the Sun Devil rumbling behind us on the dirt road.
“Why don’t we do an air assault?” Li inquired. “Sounds better than just marching across hills and rivers and forests and things like that.”
“Innies got shoulder-fired SAMs,” I answered. “A bunch of guys from Bravo Company tried an aerial insertion on suspected Innie positions about twenty klicks to the west, but their Pelicans got shot down by rockets. 50% of the insertion force was KIA before they hit the ground.”
“Shit, who’s arming these guys?”
“Scuttlebutt says that some civilians are smuggling them weapons from breakaway planets, but you know how scuttlebutt is.”
“Makes sense though,” added Zuberi. “The people on these planets don’t like us. They don’t like Earth. They forgot where they came from.”
“Well then we’re here to give them a little reminder,” said Flynn.
“Maintain formation, boys and girls,” said Papadopoulos. “These Innie bastards are sick puppies.”
We continued our walk through the lightly-wooded landscape, with strange wiry trees stretching into the sky, their broad leaves, tapering into a thin leafy spike, gathering as much sunlight as they could. It was midday, but the forest floor had lighting that reminded me of early morning, or maybe dusk. Either way, it certainly didn’t feel like midday on the ground. We heard running water, and happened upon a stream. The road forded it with a small concrete and steel bridge, barely enough to fit the Sun Devil over.
“Smells fishy,” said Flynn.
“Yeah, engineers are gonna take a look-see,” added Zuberi.
A team of EOD guys from 3rd Platoon came up and onto the bridge. They swept the thing meticulously, and in a short while they found explosives wired to hidden pressure plates on the bridge. If the Sun Devil got onto it – Hell if anyone so much as stepped on a plate – the bridge would blow. As the seconds turned into minutes, then tens of minutes, some of the guys started to light up e-cigs. Some more started to check their ammo, or fiddle with their equipment. A handful were dozing off, only to be quickly brought back to consciousness by their buddies. A lot of everyone else kept their eyes open, including me. Especially me. But there was nothing to see. Just trees, bushes, and rocks.
“I just know that those Innies are out there, the bastards,” said Zuberi.
“Just stay cool, my dude,” said Flynn.
A slight breeze came in from the south, rustling the leaves on the trees and bushes. A sigh came out of Li and I glanced at him: he seemed both restless and bored, if that was even possible. Sgt. Papadopoulos was unworried by the developments, or lack thereof. He seemed totally alert, aware, and scanned the tree trunks. He took a glance at every single little rock and bush. I looked down at my MA37, and set the selector to full auto.
“Going full auto?” asked Flynn. “Don’t mag dump, Charet.”
“I know how to shoot, Flynn,” I answered. “Short controlled bursts.”
“I dunno, people tend to forget things when they’re getting shot at.”
“Okay, well, next time we get in a firefight, I’ll let you know how I do.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll hear it.”
I scoffed and playfully smacked him on his arm.
“Hey,” said a guy from 1st Squad, “I think I see movement, ten o’clock, about fifty meters out.” Everyone looked in that direction, and I heard rifles cock. But nothing. No shooting. No rustling. No nothing.
“You sure, Brandt?” asked a woman. “I got nothing.”
“I swear I saw something person-shaped moving in that bush,” said Brandt.
I looked to the woman. DuPont, I think her name was. Certainly matched up, since she talked with a slight French accent. She looked through the scope of her sniper rifle. “Brandt, I see nothing and I have optics. There’s nobody in that bush.”
“Well, maybe they moved position. You don’t know, you weren’t looking. And there’s like a whole line of bushes over there.”
“Either way, we’re probably not alone,” said Papadopoulos.
“Roger that, sir,” said Flynn. “Innies probably got eyes on us now while we sit here with our dicks in our hands waiting for the EOD guys to finish their work.”
“Can it, Flynn,” I said. “Let the demo techs do their job. Unless you wanna go up there and try to figure out which wire to cut?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Uh-huh.”
More minutes passed. I think it was about an hour before the EODs gave the all clear. Everyone got a little bit more excited and energetic, and a lot of the guys started to get up on their feet. Then, however, I heard a gunshot, followed by a thwack noise. My vision darted to the source of the thwack, and saw that tall guy, Brandt, take a bullet to his upper chest, right above his body armor. He was dead before he hit the ground, crumpling like someone kicked the bottom part of a house of cards.
“Find cover, now!” shouted Flynn. Automatic fire came from our twelve o’clock, about fifty meters away.
“Shit! Taking MG fire on our position!” said Papadopoulos. A few more guys were hit.
“Another FNG down!” cried out Zuberi.
“Will one of you morons shoot those Innies?!” yelled Flynn. So, we all started shooting back wildly, in what we felt was the general direction the incoming fire was coming from.
“India 5-5, this is Charlie 1-1!” yelled the sarge on his radio. “I need you to light up the tree line, twelve o’clock, fifty meters out! Do it fucking now! Over!”
Now, India 5-5 was the call sign for the Sun Devil. The AA tank whirred its turret into position and opened up with its quad HMGs. Tracer rounds spat out of the guns as they made a buzzsaw noise with their combined fire, spitting bullets across the forests. Scores of trees were felled as the .50 cal. bullets made giant holes in trunks and people. I could swear I saw scattered red mist here and there in the target zone. When India 5-5 finally finished its burst of fire, the company CO ordered everyone to cease fire. When we did so, the incoming fire was gone.
“I think that did the trick!” triumphantly declared Flynn.
“Merde!” spat out DuPont. “We have serious GSWs here, where’s the doc?!”
“Shit, I’m still alive,” said Li. He took off his helmet and studied it. I looked and saw a noticeable line in it: a bullet made a glancing blow at it. Li was indeed a lucky man. Li looked at me and said “Charet, you’re hit.”
I looked at my left arm, which felt oddly moist. I was grazed. “Ah, I can live with it.”
“Well, get it patched up soon,” advised Li. “Don’t know what kinda germs are on this planet.”
“Roger,” I said. I then walked up to the Sun Devil and gratefully patted it near its treads. Damn thing saved our skins.
The hatch on it opened, and a head with a dark complexion popped out. He smiled softly at me. “You’re welcome,” he said in a quiet, gentle voice.”
Category:The Weekly