Vertical Ridge chapter one

Chapter One

Derek watched the rain pour down on his small garden, turning the dust into mud. It had been four weeks since it rained, and even then it was only a light sprinkle. He’d cleaned his gutters and reservoir out, so while the water wouldn’t be fit for drinking it could still be used for anything else.
Derek pulled his combat gear out of the closet and stuffed it into a heavy duffel bag before strapping on a pair of boots and pulling on a long rain coat. He slung the duffel over his shoulder, stepped out into the enclosed carport, and started up his motorcycle. It had been several months since Cora’s 3rd regiment had trained during the rain. This was going to be fun. The motorbike rumbled to life, Derek adjusted the pack and let the bike roll down the driveway toward the flooded road.
Before getting to the road Derek mashed the touch screen on his bike, brought up the mobile communications link, and opened a call to Terry Wilson. Terry was first sergeant of Cora’s 8th combat unit, his and Derek’s unit were going to train together today. After three tones the other end was picked up.
“Terry Wilson speaking.” Derek scrolled the volume bar down, someone must have been playing with the headset since he rode the bike last.
“Terry, this is Derek McConnell, I was wondering if there was any chance we could change plans, and do aggressive vehicle maneuvers instead of close combat today. I know it’s short notice, but a lot of my guys need to train on these vehicles in the mud.”
“Good idea, I’m glad you asked McConnell. I’ll speak to Jose, you see if you can’t get a couple of Lynx, and a handful of Rabbits from the Colonel. Hold.” Derek’s headset beeped twice. He decided to make a quick call to Colonel Rodney to ask about the vehicles. Derek pulled up another contact, labeled “HQ-Col Rod,” and made a second call. The other end was picked up immediately this time.
“Colonel Rodney’s office, this is Jane Rodney.” A female voice spoke sharply over Derek’s headset.
“Jane, Derek McConnell, I have a vehicle request for the colonel, for…eighteen Lynx, and twenty -Cheetahs.” He caught himself before using the nickname given to the All Terrain Vehicles by its operators.
“Would you like to speak to the Colonel directly? He isn’t busy.” Jane’s voice softened after her initial pick up.
“Yes Jane.”
“Just a sec’.” Derek’s headset beeped twice again, but the colonel didn’t even take six seconds to answer.
“This is Colonel Rodney.” The older man’s voice rumbled with daunting authority.
“Sir! Derek McConnell, I’d like to request several vehicles for training purposes.”
“All right, what vehicles were you thinking of requesting Derek?” Rodney had known Derek over ten years now, and had no need for formalities.
“I would like eighteen Lynx and twenty Jack-Rabbits, we’ll be doing aggressive vehicle maneuver and assault today.”
“I don’t have a problem with that. Do you know where you’d be doing this training?”
“I was going to ask Jim Watt out on the Ring if we could use The Giant’s Basin. I think that’s the best place to get as much training done in as short an amount of time I can get.”
“So you haven’t asked him yet?” Rodney’s question was not one off accusation, or disappointment in Derek’s apparent negligence, it was a question, and a question only.
“No sir, I thought it best to acquire the equipment before the training grounds.” Derek’s method was not standard, but he preferred to tie up military equipment before a citizen’s property.
“I’ll let Captain Charles know you need them, and clear it when you say you’ve got permission for the land use.”
“I’ll contact Jim now.” Derek put that line on hold, just in time to catch Terry coming back with a reply.
“Jose’ll go with that McConnell, just wants to know where we’ll be for the training.”
“I’m getting ready to ask Jim Watt if we an use The Giant’s Basin. Give me a minute.” Derek placed Terry’s line on hold and opened a new line. It took nearly a minute for the other end to be picked up this time.
“Hello?” A boy’s thin voice answered.
“This is Derek McConnell, I was wondering if Mr. Watt is in, I’d like to ask him something.” Derek couldn’t figure out which of Jim’s sons he was speaking too. They all sounded almost exactly alike, with the exception of William, the oldest.
“Let me go find him, be right back.” Derek waited three minutes at the end of his driveway before rolling out onto the main road. It was another minute or so before Jim Watt picked up the phone.
“Derek McConnell, what can I do for you on this beautiful day?” Jim was always the optimist. The rain was needed, and to a farmer it was beautiful.
“I was wondering if my unit could do a little bit, or rather a large bit, of vehicle training on part of your property.” Aggressive maneuvers was anything but little.
“You surely can, where were you thinking of driving?”
“I would like to use The Giant’s Basin, I’ve done training there before it’s fairly well suited for the task.” The last time he had done any training in the Giant’s Basin was before Jim Watt had bought it.
“You may certainly use it. Use it for as long as you like. I just want it all there when I get it back.” Jim chuckled.
“Thank you sir, I appreciate this. See you around.” Derek closed the line and picked up the colonel’s line.
“I have permission to use The Giant’s Basin for training.” This brief piece of information was all that was needed to clear the use of the vehicles.
“Excellent! Captain Charles has been notified and you can pick the vehicles up whenever you like. Good work son. Out.”

Rodney closed his line. He sat watching the rain spray against the window.
“That boy will go far… In the event of a conflict…” He shook his head and picked up another line at his daughter’s prompt.

Derek mashed the touch screen to reconnect to Terry.
“Terry, I have permission from Watt to use the Giant’s Basin, I also have nineteen Lynx and twenty four Cheetahs assigned to us, per Colonel Rodney, we can pick them up as soon as we want them.”
“Good work McConnell, it’s a pleasure working with you. Out.” Terry cut his line.
Derek turned off the main road to take a short cut to Raven-Cora’s armory complex. It was dirt road, but the rain had turned it into a river.
“So much for a short cut…” Derek thought dolefully as he slowed to prevent loss of control over his bike. The road ran through the woods, and came out on a ridge twice, each time he was able to catch a slight glimpse of the city below. Cora was the capitol, and largest city of the clan Edge of the Storm. The population had been taken eight years ago, and numbered approximately 47,681. That was not counting anyone under the age of seventeen, and only included the residence of the downtown city, and the urban environment that extended four miles out from the centre of town. It didn’t include the people living five or more miles away, even though they were part of the greater “community.”
Cora was a military industry city, with two aircraft manufacturing plants, a vehicle factory, an armor factory, and three military technology schools. Derek was a small arms manufacturer, specializing in long range guns and tinkering in light weaponry for vehicles. He was one of hundreds who milled guns in their basement, garage, or workshop. Most sent their products to the weapons testing facility in Cora to ensure the arms were exactly in line with the military caliber regulations. It was hardly a surprise that Cora boasted the second strongest division in the confederation, with over 21,000 members in the ‘voluntary’ defense force. Cora had no standing army, but it had about three hundred paid commissioned officers, engineers, pilots, and other aircraft related maintenance personnel.
Derek paused at one of the overlooks. Even with the torrential downpour everything seemed peaceful. The war between the River State Federation and the Respian Coalition of Nations in southern part of the continent seemed so far away and disconnected from all this. He wondered why the monthly training requirement had doubled. No one in Nolia was foolish enough to get into the fight wearing their regiments’ colors. “At least,” Derek thought as he turned away from the view and back to the tunnel-like road ahead, “I hope no one is that stupid.” Derek’s unit had already been adding days here and there whenever more then forty of them could take the time to come out and train, they were hoping to have their unit status, and equipment upgraded to a high level. The 131st Infantry unit was designated a “Heavy Infantry” unit. Derek hoped the next evaluation would upgrade them to “Advanced Infantry.” With a lot more training they could possibly make “Shock Troop” status. After Shock Troop, there was Advanced Shock Troop, and the highest designation “Strike” unit. Cora’s division only had three Strike Units and those were assigned to the Orbital Air Ship Amaranth. Derek shrugged as he turned off onto the last dirt road between him and the armory.

The armory was one of two in Nolia where over ninety percent of the structures were underground. Cora’s 3rd Infantry/Airborne had one, and Dardanelle, in the clan Of the Desert, had the other. The 3rd Infantry’s was by far the better of the two. There were six buildings above ground, each of them merely providing access to the structures underground. In addition to the barn-like structures, there was a single tower in the middle of the armory. The tower had access to the main barracks, and provided anti aircraft capabilities to the base. Two rail-guns turreted independently for ranged targets, and a plethora of conventional guns were scattered around the roof. The tower was built around a frame of steel, hardened concrete, three inches of steel, with an outer façade of heavy stones. Without knowledge of the concrete and steel underneath, anyone looking at it would think it was some ancient relic left over from the days of knights, kings, and castles. The windows on the side of the hexagon tower let light pour into the hall, much like the great halls of the castles, on the exterior the windows were a thin line, but on the interior there was a window seat the size of a couch tucked into the wall.
The main barracks was over forty feet below the surface, broken down into thirty sections, one for each squadron in the regiment, and could house up to four thousand soldiers, as well as two secondary barracks’ were located near the vehicle garages. Four tertiary barracks’ were scattered around near main complex points, and several four man bunk rooms at other locations. With all sleeping facilities accounted for, the whole armory complex could house almost seven thousand people.
The Orbital Air Ship hanger was the largest manmade underground structure in Nolia, the floor was nearly three hundred feet below surface, with the ceiling right at two hundred feet high. The hanger was one thousand feet wide, by fifteen hundred feet long, plenty of room for the many vehicles that would be driven into the room and aboard the ship to be moved to any combat location as needed.
The Aircraft hangers were both on the west side of the OAS hanger. Each had two tunnels connecting them to the OAS hanger, in addition to two lifts, and tunnels leading to west. All the tunnels were large enough for a DC-31 Halberd to be towed through and still have ten feet on all sides. The lifts were also big enough for the drop-ships to sit on, and would take the aircraft or equipment to the surface access building.
The Vehicle Bay was on the opposite side of the OAS hanger, and was connected by four tunnels. . The division owned over three hundred of these ultra light personnel carriers. The lift was the most traversed method of entry to the Vehicle Bay, but several small tunnels that lead out into the forest surrounding the armory were used as well.

At the gate Derek slowed enough so as not to splash mud everywhere, before heading over to an old building that had been turned into a garage set aside for personal vehicles.
Most of his own group had already gathered under one corner of the garage, the over-extended eaves and wall to their backs gave them some shelter from the wind-swept rain. John Grey saluted Derek as he approached, and mumbled a low “’s up” after Derek returned the salute.
“Do you think the Alliance will get involved?” Will Goring, one of the newer members of the unit asked.
“Boy! What did your parents teach you?! The Alliance isn’t there to intervene in each and every conflict that comes within a thousand miles of our border! It’s one and only purpose is to protect the nations committed, only when they’ve been physically attacked by another government entity, and responsibility can be placed for all to see, or if the attacking nation claims responsibility. Only then can, and will, the Alliance get involved in a conflict.” James Williamson, 1st Sergeant of the 131st Surface Infantry (Cora), upbraided the young man for his naivety.
“But we’re friends with the River States, they obviously need help, so why don’t we do something about it?”
“There’s another one with a rather thick skull for James to butt heads with.” Derek thought as James became openly frustrated.
“No! It’s not our land, it’s not our people, and it sure the heck isn’t our fight! Yes we’re trade with the Federation, does that mean we have any obligation to stick our neck out for them? No! Yes, we know people from some of the States, does that mean we have the same obligation to help defend them, as we will with someone from, say, Eagle? No! If the Coalition attacks us, then the Alliance will become involved, and not ten seconds before then. They have neither the power, authority, or will to do so.” James finished his rant, and looked up to see Derek’s attempt to stifle a grin.
“Anything you would like to add to that, Sergeant?” James didn’t think it was funny.
“No, not that I can think of,” Derek was having trouble keeping his face any straighter than what it was with the grin.
“Then wipe that stupid grin off of your face and tell me what crazy, whacked up training plans you have in store for us poor dogs today.” James crossed his arms, and glared across the rain at Derek, even though he was beginning to cool off.
“I was originally thinking of live fire training for today, but when the rain showed I decided a change of plans was in order. We’ll be doing Aggressive vehicle maneuvers and assault with Terry Wilson’s 118th. I’ve already talked to him about it, and a request, already granted, for nine Lynx and fourteen Bobcats. That should cover most of the people from both units, anyone who can’t fit on can just use their personal vehicle. I asked Jim Watt if we could use The Giant’s Basin down at the far end of his land, he gave me an Okay on that.”
“Aggressive vehicle maneuvers and assault? We’ve done that already.” Nate McLintock grumbled. He never liked doing anything twice.
“You did it when it was dry. You did it when it was so dry we couldn’t go over fifty miles per hour ‘cause the trucks had no traction in the dust! You haven’t done it in the rain, you haven’t done it in the mud. Out of the…” Derek took a quick head count. “Forty of us here, I can only see sixteen I know have done AVMA in this kind of weather. You need the experience. Now. If you get out on the field, and you’re the driver, what happens when it goes from desert to lake in half an hour? You don’t know how your vehicle will handle. You haven’t felt the winds pushing your vehicle off the path when cruising down a muddy road at seventy mile per hour- not that it’s advisable to go that fast. We will be doing Aggressive vehicle maneuvers and assault.” Derek glared at the assembled men.
“Now, now serge, no need to get all huffy, put the mullet away,” there was a chuckle, “Nate musta had something he oughtn’ve ate, is all.” Brian Murray lifted one eyebrow and looked around the crowd for some measure of approval. Finding none within sight he shrugged. “Well it was worth a try. You know what you’re problem is? All of you. You’re to damn serious. Lighten up, we’re not in a war yet.”
Derek scowled, an attempt to hide the grin trying to creep over his face. Brian was right, there might be a war on, but they weren’t involved, yet, he shouldn’t be so tough on a newer member, even one that griped as much as Nate, until the business became more serious.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to be so harsh, but what I said still stands.” Derek shrugged apologetically. He’d said his piece, if anything else needed to be said, James would say it.
“Well now boys. Shall we go get the carts?” James rubbed his hands together semi excitedly, almost as if he was about to commit some prank. “Roll call first. SGT McConnell,”
“Here.”
“CP Ferguson,”
“Here.”
“CP McKay,”
“Here.”
“CP Shaw,”
“Here.”
“Call your groups. Rollins, Jameson, Miller, Hay, Reilly, Martin, Kerr, Graham, Gibson, Hunter, Hamilton, Rogers.” At each name called, James was answered with either “here” or “Accounted for.” Derek began calling his own men out.
“McKay, Aldridge, Campbell, Allan, Black, MacLean, Wallace, Forbes, Christie, Douglas, Moore, McKenzie, Hughes.” Derek was answered with affirmation of presence, all his men were accounted for. In training, and combat, the 1st Sergeant would have his squad, and at least one other squad, since their unit had over sixty it had been broken into five full squads, the maximum allowed by the Nolian Military Standing Operating Procedures. James would have his men, as well as Corporal Ferguson, Corporal Shaw and their men, Derek would have his own and Travis McKay’s men. Derek waited for McKay to call all his men before moving them off a short way from the rest of the group.
“Which of you have done Aggressive vehicle maneuver and assault before?” Approximately half of the group raised their hands. “And who’s done in adverse wind conditions?” The only three hands dropped from the group of drivers. “Adverse water conditions?” Most of the hands went down, Derek was left with himself, Travis, Ray Aldridge, James Allan, William Black, John Scott, and Hughie McKenzie. “And just for the heck of it, who’s done this in snow?” Travis McKay, Ray Aldridge, and John Scott kept their hands up. “Alright, I’m breaking this squad down further, seven of us have driven under these kinds of conditions before, we’ll be in groups of three students to one instructor, if we can get a hold of the Lynxes before anyone else gets there we’ll get them out on the range and let you guys get some time in before we go organized. Any objections? Good. Grab your gear, lets get moving.” Derek walked back to his motorcycle and put the heavy combat armor on. After strapping the armor on he tied a red cloth over the barrel of his rifle, slung it over his shoulder, and waited for his men to assemble before heading to the vehicle bay surface access shaft.
Derek took three Lynx and five Cheetahs, the Lynx only had five places designated for occupation, but they were able to put an extra person on two of them. Derek took gunner seat on the lead Lynx since it was a good vantage point, while Travis’s little brother Steven McKay took the wheel. Steven had not driven the Lynx for training, but Derek had no doubt Travis had made him drive the combat vehicle before. It took less than four minutes to get outside the mountain, and Steven picked up the pace, doing well over forty on the dirt, now a mud road. He didn’t mind much, but by the time the vehicle was getting up to fifty miles per hour Derek decided forty was more than fast enough.
“Alright Steven, bring it back down to forty. You’ve got four passengers without proper seating, slow up some, take it easy. Let’s get there without dumping anyone.” The younger man apologized sheepishly, and allowed the Lynx to decelerate back down to forty.

The training went without major mishap, two collisions between Lynx, no injuries. One Lynx rolled, and almost killed the gunner, but he escaped with only a lot of bruising, and a possible dislocated shoulder, the mud was the main factor in keeping him safe. There was also six cases of Cheetahs rolling, and several collisions, but no serious injures. By the end of the day even the least experienced drivers could take a forty five degree curve at forty miles per hour and not sling anyone off. Terry Wilson’s unit were all driver experts, and with some coaching from them, most of the 131st could run a convoy almost bumper to bumper at seventy miles per hour without rear ending the driver ahead, or spinning out of control. Derek felt good as they drove back to the armory, with the rain still pouring down like the whole ocean was in the sky. He laughed, it was good they had decide to put a heavy drainage system in the underground complex, with all this rain, Derek knew a lot was going down ventilation chutes, tunnels, and access shafts. The inside of the armory would be damp for weeks, even if it didn’t rain any more. But that was okay, every reservoir in the country was empty or low. The water would be pumped into several manmade lakes around the mountain, then run through canals lined with gravel, shunted into rivers, streams and lakes all around. By the time it got to the natural waterways it would be clean of anything it picked up in the armory.
Both units sat outside in the pouring rain for several minutes, despite the low temperatures, before starting to take the vehicles down the access shaft directly to the vehicle bay. Derek made sure they were pressure washed to clean all the mud off before parking the vehicles in the designated locations. Topside, Derek met with James and the unit before they all left.
“Any questions you didn’t ask at the right time? Any requests for next training date? Anything to say before you leave?” James did this every time, even though the training requests had almost no effect on the schedule Derek had compiled. “No? Good. Go home, see you all around.” Everyone snapped to attention, and saluted, James returned the salute before stomping off to his truck, throw his gear in the back and roaring out. The rest of the unit followed suit in whatever vehicle they owned. Derek left his gear by his bike, then headed to the main barracks to put a report in.
Derek took his report directly to Colonel Rodney when he finished it. He preferred doing things in person, and making sure things happened. The colonel was getting ready to leave when Derek walked up, stood to attention, and threw a salute. Rodney returned it with all due solemnity.
“Stand easy Derek. How went the training?”
“Better than I expected, Terry’s guys are good at their stuff. Here’s the report, we had a few accidents, no major damage to the vehicles, and only minor injuries to the operators.”
“Yes, he’s worked hard to get his people trained to their current level. Would you like to come over for dinner this evening? The wife’s putting it up about 1800 if you’re interested in the cooking.” Rodney’s offer was very tempting, Mrs. Rodney cooked a mean dinner.
“I’d love to, but I have a set of guns I’m supposed to deliver to the Testing Facility Monday at 0900, and they still have to be ground, serials stamped, and assembly needs completion. I’ll be up pretty late with that. Thanks for offering though,” Derek inclined his head in a slight bow of gratitude. The colonel acknowledged the refusal with a bow of his own.
“The offer stands open, let me know when you’re hungry, and the table will be set accordingly. Good day.” Derek handed over the report as he snapped another salute, and left the building.
The rain had not stopped all day, and the flooding was beginning to worry Derek. He’d have to take a path that couldn’t even be considered a road to get home, as long as it hadn’t been washed away. Luckily it was still there – mostly – and Derek had little trouble traveling it back to a smaller path that led from the woods at the base of his hill up to the house. He thought about hosing the bike off before putting it away, but decided against it. As an afterthought he cleaned it and covered it so he wouldn’t have to do it before church in the morning.
Derek had cast and tempered eight 12.7x99 millimeter barrels over the week, and machined all the parts to assemble two H125 gas-powered gatling style automatic weapons. The gatlings were used in many of the combat vehicles, and some light versions were designed to be carried and operated by infantry units. He already had the gas cylinder-chamber core and the ammunition feed put together, all that was need was to finish grinding the barrels, stamp serial numbers on everything, and begin applying the protective finish.
Derek checked the clock after grinding the barrels, it was only five o’clock. He grimaced, there was enough time he could have accepted the colonel’s offer, the first coat of finish would take ten minutes to apply, and would need two or three hours to dry before he could apply the second coat.
“Oh well, another good dinner lost…” He shrugged and started painting the finish onto the long gun barrels. After graving his serial numbers into the chamber cores he fixed a light dinner, glancing outside to see what the weather was like. Rain still fell in torrents, and showed no sign of relenting.
It was after eight before he completed the second coat, and another hour later when he pinned the barrels into each chamber-core. With nothing else to do Derek took a shower and went to bed. As he listened to the rain he reviewed the day. It had been very productive, more than he could say for most Saturday training days.
He drifted off to sleep with an almost-contented smile plastered over his face.