The Fifth Season by Kerry B. Collison Read Free Book Online Page A

edge of the field. Rain filled clouds moved silently across the evening sky blanketing the moonlight and Suparman sensed that the attack was imminent, as darkness enveloped their surrounds. Habit forced his hands to check the lower leg pockets of his battle-dress, but then he remembered that they had changed out of their uniforms as the mission directives required.
    This would be a civilian raid.
    â€˜Let’s go!’ his Sergeant hissed, sending eight half-crouched men running along the soggy rain-water drain towards a number of barely visible buildings, the structures’ silhouettes confused to the marauders’ eyes, in the absence of light. They had covered more than a hundred meters when their leader’s voice snapped again.
    â€˜Get down!’ Suparman heard the NCO’s command and the team threw themselves against the embankment, waiting for whatever it was that moved towards them along the narrow, bitumen road. Moments passed before they continued cautiously towards their target in file, listening for sounds which might be out of place here in the dark. Frogs croaked, a worrying sign that rain might interfere with their mission, but Suparman was more concerned with the filthy, slimy, colorfully ringed, deadly poisonous snakes which slid around in the night, preying on the noisy creatures.
    The soldiers hurried across the road and came to rest less than fifty meters from the buildings, where they spent several more minutes determining where the civilian security guards slept.
    â€˜To the left of the smaller building,’ a corporal indicated, pointing to where a soft, fifteen watt globe burned inside what they knew to be the sleeping quarters. Sergeant Subandi squinted, concentrating on the buildings, then cursed silently, swatting whatever insect had attached itself to his face.
    â€˜Suparman,’ the NCO whispered for all to hear, ‘take Dedi and two others, and hit the church from there.’ He pointed to the walls farthest from where the tenants slept. ‘You,’ he ordered, placing his hand on the corporal’s shoulder, ‘take the others and approach from behind.’ The corporal raised his eyebrows questioningly, but this went unseen in the dark.
    â€˜What about them?’ he asked, moving his free hand closer to the sergeant’s face while pointing at the dim light. Over the past month, they had razed almost a dozen other churches and not once targeted those inside.
    During those operations, the inhabitants had fled in terror, encouraged by their attackers to do so. He sensed that the sergeant had moved outside the operation’s parameters, and wanted confirmation that this time, they were to kill. He could not see the cruel grin which marked the team leader’s face.
    â€˜Burn them,’ he ordered, and rose to his feet clasping one of the Molotov cocktails in his right hand, simultaneously extracting a lighter from his jacket pocket with the other. The men followed suit, opening their own sacks containing the highly inflammable contents, and taking their positions as instructed.
    Within minutes the church was ablaze. Tall dancing flames licked at the sky, casting light for hundreds of meters. Then the soldiers turned their attention to the adjoining buildings, hurling their deadly gifts into the air to smash against the buildings’ roofs, releasing burning fuel which spread through the ceiling and into the meager quarters where the minister and his wife remained, clutching each other in terror.
    They cried out for assistance, and were dismayed when none came to their rescue. The ceiling above burst into flames, the heat and smoke unbearable. Finally, overcome by asphyxiation, the couple died, only minutes before the arsonists’ deadly fires could engulf their bodies.
    The soldiers regrouped, then disappeared silently back through the fields to where their vehicle waited. By the time any of the local population had found the courage to