Furnace (Hunter-Killer #1)

Chapter 14 - A Smash and Grab Job

Ryke wasn't sure he belonged in this briefing room, but as the official commanding officer of the newly christened HK-Rupture, he didn't have a choice. He looked around, feeling every scrap of his inexperience as he scanned the other faces. Sergeant Parnell was here, her sharp features impassive and giving nothing away, and across the room he could see Kelso deep in hushed conversation with a tall man in the dark overalls of the Scout Cadre.

Otherwise he felt very alone and out of his depth.

The main command building of Stamm Basin had a dozen levels, half of them below ground. Beneath that, wrapped in a shell of six meter thick armour was the bulbous metal egg of the command operations module. Forty feet in diameter, it was a circular chamber with four equidistant exits, each flanked by a pair of armed security personnel, and a huge holographic display embedded in the floor at its centre. Unlike the raised dais in the previous briefing room Ryke had been to, this display curved into the ground, currently holding a suspended hologram of the planet Rychter in its entirety.

There were also a lot more powerful people in this room, rank bars that he didn't even recognise adorning the shoulders of many of the more unfamiliar faces. Clasping his hands tightly behind his back, Ryke took a deep breath. They didn't gather this many powerful people in one place for a picnic – something big was going down.

Slowly the low hum of conversation ebbed away and he folded his arms tight, watching intently as the officers coalesced around the main display. He shuffled dutifully along, lurking at the back of the group of Hunter-Killer commanders, hoping he didn't look as out of his depth as he felt.

With everyone assembled, a figure detached from the group of older officers and took up station at the raised ledge that ringed the map display.

The man that stepped forward looked alarmingly frail, a thin-framed individual in a crisp, neatly pressed uniform of iron grey. A black beret was tucked under one arm, revealing the swept back sheen of his ghostly white hair. His face was heavily lined with age, but his eyes remained sharp and clear, gleaming like a stormy sky. The insignia on his shoulder bore five bars with a vertical silver line bisecting them – this wasn't just any general – that extra bar of silver marked him out a multi-force commander, his authority spreading across Brekka's military branches.

"Good afternoon," he said, his like two lumps of coal being ground together. "For those of you who don't know my name is General Theikvaal – I have overall operation command of forces stationed at Stamm Basin. Given the escalating Scraegan attacks at Ozzmar and Alldeep we've called commanding officers here to outline a new approach to defending our territory. We are bleeding bodies and equipment chasing the Scraegans from town to town, something that cannot be sustained in the long run." He paused, chest swelling as he took a breath, examining those around him. "Each of you will be a part of this endeavour. I will not stand idly while these bastards chew away at us with their hit-and-run cowardice." His head whipped to the right, eyes fixing on one of the figures standing off near Kelso's ground. "Colonel Hackley, if you please?"

"Sir." A woman saluted sharply, detaching herself from the group, and as she stepped into the light Ryke's eyes widened when he realised who he was looking at.

Colonel Vandeleen Hackley, a legend among the Brekkan military. Leader of the Scout Cadre troops, Ryke had never actually expected to meet her face to face, but he knew of her by reputation. While the Hunter-Killers were the heavily armed and armoured backbone of the Brekkan army, Hackley and her troops made do with anti-armour rifles, sand-skiffs and an awful lot of courage. She was tall, built like a coil of wound steel, with short brown hair tied back into a rough bun that jutted out from beneath her crimson beret. Her rough features bore numerous scars, culminating in the oblong plate of metal over the space where her left eye ought to have been.