Behind Enemy Lines: A United Federation Marine Corps Novel by Jonathan P. Brazee

Behind Enemy Lines: A United Federation Marine Corps Novel by Jonathan P. Brazee

Author:Jonathan P. Brazee
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Publisher: Semper Fi Press
Published: 2017-03-27T07:00:00+00:00


Chapter 18

Jasper

The smell reached out to the three as they wended their way through the trees. JJ was still on point, and his body was tense as he carefully pushed forward. Jasper followed, the smell of smoke and explosives tearing him back to Koltan’s Hill four days ago. He was almost overwhelmed as the sounds, heat, and smells of that fight washed over him. He faltered and had to put a hand up on a tree trunk to keep from falling.

“You OK, Jasper?” Mountie whispered from behind him.

Get it together, old man, he told himself.

“Aye-yah, I’m fine,” he said, taking a deep breath and trying to clear his mind.

JJ suddenly stopped, holding up a fist, the signal to freeze. Jasper put his thumb on the safety of Sergeant Go’s M90, outwardly ready for anything, but his thoughts darting around his skull like a songbird in a cage. He didn’t know what was ahead of them, but his imagination was running wild. Surely it couldn’t be that bad.

In a way, he was right. It wasn’t that bad—it was worse.

JJ turned to look past Jasper and whispered to Mountie, “We’ve got a house up there, or what used to be a house.”

“Anyone alive?” Mountie asked.

“I see a body, but nothing else. Local, not merc.”

“We’ve got to check for survivors,” Mountie said. “Move forward, but high alert.”

JJ nodded, and step after slow step, advanced. Jasper followed, and as he passed a copse of laurel, got his first view of the small settlement. There had been four buildings in the farm, three of which were now piles of debris, tendrils of smoke rising from hotspots. The layout made it clear—this was a typical independent farm, straight from the Wal-Lotte catalog. Not all agriculture on Nieuwe Utrecht was tubes and hydroponic shelves. There were more than a few dirt farmers growing a wide variety of crops for both local consumption and export. The “farm-in-a-box,” between its price and the attractive financing options, was one of the cheapest ways for a free citizen to start a farm. With the local government giving 20-hectare freehold claims to anyone who would establish a farm, thousands of immigrants to the planet had done just that.

And the man who’d done that was lying face-first between the barn and chemical shed—which was the only one of the four buildings left undamaged. His attempt at making a place for himself on the planet had been cut short. As Jasper followed JJ out of the embracing cover of the trees and into the compound, he couldn’t help staring at the man. He knew he should be watching for mercs, but his eyes were locked on the body. JJ knelt, touched the man’s neck, and shook his head.

The man looked young, maybe 25 years old or so. He had on work boots and tan yodzhis, another Wall-Lotte staple. His shirt was a simply black denim, but with white and red embroidered flowers covering the back.

Jasper almost threw up when he realized they were not white and red flowers; the red was from the young man’s blood.



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