Free RECCE II (The Union Series Book 5) by Phillip Richards Page B

take the reins and lead his countrymen once more. More importantly,
fixing the network would allow us to communicate with B Company on the surface.
As it stood, we were working on a deadline. Their OC had given us only three
hours to return to the surface, and that time was swiftly running out.
    Yulia shook her head. ‘I never saw the commanding officer,
or any of the original Guard commanders. We were hooded from the beginning and taken
straight into this chamber. There was much shouting, and gunfire.’ She nodded
toward the bodies. ‘Perhaps he is there . . .’
    I followed her gaze to the sorry heap of human
remains. There were many Guard uniforms amongst the murdered hostages. If the
intention of the rogue Guardsmen was to break unit cohesion and allow the
Militia to re-take Cellini, then killing the commanding officer and his staff
would be the simplest way to achieve that effect.
    My eyes hung over the bodies for a moment, and then
I breathed an exasperated sigh. ‘This is madness! The Militia are out there,
and you lot are all busy fighting yourselves.’
    Yulia stared silently back at me.
    I realised that I had probably touched a nerve, and
relented. ‘Sorry,’ I said, quickly.
    ‘You do not need to apologise,’ she replied with a
hint of sadness in her voice. ‘You are right. There is a poison within the
Guard now. I am angry that that it has taken me so long to see it.’
    The cries of pain intensified suddenly, sending a chill
down my spine.
    ‘Jesus Christ . . .’ Myers exclaimed, staring back
out into the command chamber. ‘What the hell are the FEA doing to them lot?’
    ‘The traitors are getting what they deserve,’ Yulia
told him harshly. ‘They have done more harm to our people than the Loyalists
ever could. Do not spare them your pity.’
    ‘You lot are all fucking animals,’ the young trooper
uttered under his breath.
    Ignoring his comment, I turned back to Yulia. ‘How
do you know Bhasin was here, anyway, if you were hooded all the time?’
    ‘I heard him,’ she answered. ‘I have worked with him
before. I would know his voice anywhere.’
    I considered her response. It made sense, since the
first time I met her she was indeed working close to Bhasin - presumably under
his command. ‘So . . . he survived Dakar.’
    She nodded. ‘He was in charge of the company you
directed artillery onto, but he did not die with his men.’
    My jaw tightened. It wasn’t that surprising that
Bhasin had survived the bombardment I had called in at Dakar. I had called the
fire mission onto the Guard’s frontline soldiers, with the railgun shells
landing only a few hundred metres from our own position. Bhasin wasn’t keen on
getting too close to the fighting, he liked to command from the rear, like a
puppet master pulling strings whilst hiding in the shadows.
    ‘Is he in charge of these rogue Guardsmen, or is
there somebody above him giving the orders?’
    Yulia shrugged. ‘I think that he is in command. I
only heard his voice for a few seconds, but he was speaking like he was controlling
the others. Somebody called him “Colonel”.’
    ‘Colonel?’ I repeated disbelievingly.
    ‘He has been promoted.’
    ‘For what?’ I blurted. I could think of nobody less
deserving of a promotion. I had only ever spoken to Bhasin briefly, but I had
learnt to hate him more than I had hated anybody in my life. He embodied
everything that was wrong with the people in power across the Bosque, a cold-blooded
fascist who cared nothing for the people that suffered at his hands.
    ‘The president must have promoted him for Dakar,’ Yulia
said, almost ashamedly.
    I shook my head, disgusted. Bhasin was a murderer who
had waited with his army of zombies until Dakar had been captured, before
turning them against his own people. What kind of man could reward somebody for
killing innocent civilians?
    Another long, shrill wail echoed through the warren,
cutting through my soul like a knife, and causing me to judder. Even