“No fucking way.” Commander Akande, towering over the portly lieutenant on the other side of the small table, shook his head and scowled. “I don’t like it.”

  “Oh, come on, sir!” Filson pointed at Rivas’ map on the table. “This is the answer.”

  “Yeah. If the question was, how can I get all of Raider Company killed?”

  Filson exhaled sharply. Grabbing Rivas by the arm, he pulled the Chilean across the TOC to one of the operations staff. “Sergeant, work with LT Rivas to get that line on the big map, please.”

  “Yes, sir.” The Operations Sergeant nodded.

  “I said, no, Don,” Akande said wearily. “I meant it.”

  “Sir, just give them a second to get it on the big map. I think that will help you see—it’s perfect.”

  Akande rubbed his eyes. “Perfect, my ass. You have no idea whether it’s still passable. And I guarantee you the PLA are monitoring it.” He looked up at Filson. “No.”

  “Done, sir,” the Operations Sergeant said, standing up from his workstation.

  Filson pointed at what everyone in the TOC was already looking at—Third Platoon’s defensive perimeter circled on the large tactical display. They had hunkered down in a building that offered decent fields of fire and were holding their own against the assaulting PLA. For now.

  It wouldn’t last.

  But cutting across the map now, from north of the Mapocho all the way to Third Platoon’s hasty defense between the rivers, was a green line.

  Filson winked at LT Rivas. “Tell him again, Mauricio.”

  Rivas looked at his commander nervously.

  Captain Paredes nodded.

  Rivas looked at Commander Akande.

  “Sir, this Metro line runs underground all the way to within a block of Third Platoon’s position.”

  Filson jabbed Rivas in the side with his elbow.

  “And, sir, I believe it is more than probable that the Metro spur line is passable.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Akande crossed his arms. “And how the hell could you know that?”

  “Because I designed it and supervised its construction.” Rivas’ chin raised with unconcealed pride. “Barring an earthquake, which we have not had since the tunnel was constructed, I can guarantee it is passable.”

  Filson nodded as if the matter were resolved.

  Akande blinked a few times, then glared at Paredes. “This for real, Suave?”

  “It’s true, sir,” the captain said. “Mauricio was a senior leader in Santiago’s municipal engineering division before the war.”

  Akande swiveled his attention back to Rivas. “Fine. Let’s assume you designed and built a good subway tunnel. That doesn’t fix the PLA having eyes all through the thing.”

  The Chilean shook his head. “No, sir. They don’t.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because, sir. They do not know this line exists.”

  Akande’s eyebrows arched. “This I’ve gotta hear.”

  “The line never entered service, sir,” Rivas said. “The tunnel structure was complete, but never fully connected. We had not even laid the tracks yet when the war started. So, the records were never transferred to the operations team.”

  Akande waited a moment, then looked at Paredes. “I’m not following.”

  “Most of Santiago’s municipal records and systems were destroyed in the early days of the war, sir. When it became clear the Chinese were going to win, the mayor ordered everything that might be helpful to the occupiers destroyed.”

  “He basically scuttled the city,” Filson said with an approving nod.

  “God rest his soul,” Paredes said. He and Rivas crossed themselves.

  Akande nodded with respect but said, “So, how do we know the records of this line didn’t survive somehow? Didn’t make it to the Chinese?”

  “Because I destroyed them myself, sir.”

  Akande regarded the portly Chilean and sighed.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Rivas fidgeted.

  “Like I said, sir. It’s perfect.” Filson turned to his XO. “Get back to the company area, Merko. Get ‘em ready. I want every swinging dick on this one. Tell Top that—”

  “As you were, Captain.” Akande shook his head. “Hold fast.” Merko hesitated. “Am I the only one who remembers the Wardogs?”

  Filson rolled his eyes.

  “Dammit, Don!” Exasperation tightened Akande’s voice. “They were wiped out!”

  Early in the effort to retake Santiago, the Wardogs, a mixed unit of Centaurs and exoskeleton-equipped infantry, had tried to infiltrate enemy lines using a Metro line. PLA sensors detected the magnetic anomaly produced by their mass of metal. Ground-penetrating artillery did the rest.

  “Yeah, because they used a known Metro line more than once, sir. Including after contact. Our plan is totally different.”

  “Our plan?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “We don’t have a plan.”

  “Oh yes, we do, sir. I’m taking what’s left of my company through that Metro line, consolidating on Third Platoon, and leading the extraction.” Filson put his hands on his hips.

  Merko smiled at his commander, nodded, and looked at Akande.

  “And the Lobos are going with him.” Paredes stepped next to Filson.

  Akande shook his head.

  “How many able-bodied do you even have left, Don?” Major Reeves asked.

  It had been a rough month for Raider Company. Second Platoon got chewed up badly on a recon in force mission, and most of Fourth Platoon had been assigned to sentry duty on the Mapocho River. First Platoon’s leader was still recovering from wounds sustained in a recent raid. To make matters worse, almost all the company’s remaining soldierbots had gone between the rivers with Third Platoon and were quickly being destroyed.

  “I can pull together a dozen Centaurs,” Filson said. “Maybe one or two more. Merko will go with me as First Platoon’s leader.”

  Filson looked at Merko.

  His XO nodded, eyes narrowed.

  “And what about soldierbots, Don?” Akande asked. “Your Centaurs aren’t much good on their own.”

  “I was hoping you’d give me Outlaw’s, sir.”

  The Outlaws were the Raiders’ sister company. Both fell under Akande’s command.

  “They’re at less than half strength.” Akande shook his head. “And you know damn well they are the sector’s quick-reaction force.”

  “Seems like we need them pretty quick at the moment, sir!”

  “That’s not my call, dammit!” Impatience laced Akande’s voice, and his face reddened. Filson’s cavalier demands got under his skin sometimes. “QRF launches at Havron’s command. You know that!”

  Filson raised his hands, nodding. “Roger that, sir. Meant no disrespect. I’ve got another idea, anyway.”

  Akande glowered. Urgent radio calls still filled the air, and icons continued to flip red as he and Filson stood motionless, glaring at each other.

  “I have about sixty.” Paredes announced to the room.

  Filson and Akande looked at the Chilean captain. Paredes shot an uncertain glance at his XO. Rivas waggled his head, indicating he was close enough.

  “I will bring sixty men.” Paredes looked back at Akande. “Lobos are out there with Third Platoon also, sir.”

  Akande sighed and studied the tactical display. “It’s not enough, guys. And you know it. The Chinese will have you at least five to one.”

  “And they’ll keep pouring troops into the fight,” Major Reeves added, checking the map.

  “We’re not going there to stand and fight,” Filson said. “We’re going there to get them out.”

  “And how the hell do you propose to get out, assuming this crazy, secret Metro line idea works?” Akande crossed his arms. “Because if you get back in that tunnel, you’re dead and buried, like the Wardogs.”

  “That’s Reeves’ problem, sir.” Filson looked at the battalion operations officer and smiled. “He’s got about half an hour to get air, armor, a walking artillery barrage, something to get us out after we link up.” He smiled before adding with sincerity, “I know he won’t let us down.”

  Major Reeves nodded. He looked at his watch and then at Akande.

  “We’ll get them out, sir. I promise.”

  “One last thing, sir,” Filson said, sensing a hint of momentum going his way. “I’d like to take those new LMB Kangaroo things with me. We’re gonna need all the firepower we can get.”

  Akande looked at Major Reeves, who shrugged and nodded.

  “You got ‘em, Don.”

  The LMB drones were bipedal. Top and front heavy because of their mini-guns and rocket launchers, they were equipped with thick mechanical tails that acted as counter-balances. The LMB suits called the drones “Dragons.” But when they arrived in theater, the troops immediately named them Kangaroos.

  “Thank you, sir. I—”

  “Sir? A question?” Every head turned toward the far corner of the Ops Center.

  A skinny young man in baggy khaki cargo pants and shirt stood up from his workstation.

  “Well, spit it out, Palmer!” Akande glared at the Lockheed Martin Boeing contractor. Ostensibly attached to Akande’s battalion to assist with the fielding and employment of the new fighting systems, he often seemed more focused on warranty violations.

  Filson felt sorry for the kid—clearly out of his element, always terrified, and lacking any military instincts.

  But LMB sent us his worthless, scrawny ass because he’s cheap.

  “The Dragons are remotely piloted, sir.”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “That is a problem,” Rivas said, nodding.

  Filson shook his head in disgust.

  “What’s the damn problem?” Akande demanded.

  “I’m… I’m worried about the command link in that tunnel, sir,” Palmer said, tugging on his shirt.

  “He is right.” Rivas was still nodding. “They will never get a signal in the spur line. It is too deep, and constructed of steel-reinforced concrete.”

  “So our remote pilots won’t be able to drive them, sir.”

  “Fuck ‘em,” Filson said. He pointed at Merko. “Get to the company area ASAP. Tell Top I want to be moving in five minutes.”

  Merko bolted for the door.

  Filson didn’t need to say anything to Paredes. He was three steps ahead of the LT, already headed for the Lobos’ company area.

  Akande looked around. Paredes and Merko gone. Major Reeves and Captain Preston working the radios with Regiment. The Ops Center was buzzing, preparing to support the imminent mission.

  He shook his head and stepped over to Filson.

  “Damndest thing. I don’t remember approving this harebrained mission. But when I look around this place, it seems like it’s a go.”

  Filson smiled and shrugged.

  “Listen, Don,” Akande said, crossing his arms. “Your plan is crazy. But I don’t hate it. My only caution is that Metro line. Once you pop out of the ground, it’s no longer gonna be a secret. PLA’s gonna be pissed. Get the hell away from that thing so that when they shell it out of spite, you are long gone.”

  Filson nodded.

  “I wish I had more to send with you, Don,” Akande added.

  “Funny you mention it, sir. There are two things I’m gonna need.”

  “Name it.”

  “One of them is standing right there.” Filson gestured at Rivas. He had stayed behind in the TOC as he usually did when Captain Paredes left for a mission.

  Sensing the attention, Rivas turned and looked at the two American officers.

  “Go suit up, Lieutenant,” Akande told him. “You’re going on this one.”