Текст книги "Riposte"

Автор книги: Michael A. Stackpole

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20

Arc-Royal

District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth

3 March 3028

Breezes fragrant with the scent of pine hissed into the Drop-Ship Manannan MacLiras Daniel Allard cracked open the hatch. He breathed in deeply, then smiled at Morgan Kell. "Definitely smells like home, Colonel."

The harsh glare of arclights splashed through the personnel bay as the hatch slid upward into the DropShip's hull. The light washed up Morgan's form, from his black boots and trousers to his red dress jacket. It flashed silver from the Tamar Tigers medallion, then caught the gray streaks in his black hair and beard.

Dan squinted at the light. Silhouetted against the glare, he saw the Kell Hound mercenaries, row upon row of them, waiting in the night to greet Morgan Kell. Wait a minute!he thought, shooting a glance at Morgan. "Colonel, something's wrong. There are far too many people out there."

Kell, a smile growing on his face as he looked out the hatchway, shook his head. "Nothing is wrong, Captain Allard. We're home, and so is the entire Kell Hound Regiment."

Regiment!Dan's heart pounded against his ribs. Those messages he sent out from Zaniah. The ones he had given to Brother Giles when he arrived at St. Marinus House. . . So, Morgan had planned this all along.

Morgan stepped forward and walked down the ramp. No one moved as he strode across the ferrocrete toward the small assembly of officers standing on a low dais near the Mac'snose. Morgan's footsteps echoed like gunshots in the silence.

Halfway to the dais, Morgan stopped and turned back toward Dan. With a gentle nod, he indicated that Dan should join him. Dan shook off his shocked lethargy, and solemnly marched to Morgan's side. When they reached the dais, Morgan stopped short to allow Dan to precede him onto the platform and to take his place with the other officers.

Dan slipped into the front line between Major Salome Ward and Sergeant Cat Wilson. Cat, a tall black man, acknowledged Dan with a hint of a nod. The runway lights glinted from Cat's shaven head, but his ebon eyes were inscrutable as ever.

Dan glanced over at Salome. Most of her pretty face was hidden by long, red hair, but he could see from the uncharacteristic stiffness in her posture that she was tense and upset, but trying to maintain her composure and military bearing. Dan could imagine what she must be feeling. Morgan and the Defection. He left without saying anything to her and now he returns.

Morgan mounted the stairs, and Salome stepped from the line as he reached the top of the dais. She snapped to attention and saluted sharply. Morgan returned the salute and Salome's arm fell to her side. "Colonel, the command is yours."

He smiled at her with an expression that showed both respect and gratitude. "Thank you, Major." As Salome dropped back into line, the officers saluted as a unit. Morgan's smile grew broader as he crisply returned their salute.

Morgan turned to face the mercenaries assembled before him. "At ease and thank you." The arc-lights sparked blue against his hair as he stood looking around at his troops with hands clutched at the small of his back. His bass voice struggled not to break with the emotion that threatened to overwhelm Morgan at any moment. "It's been a long time, Kell Hounds. Too long a time. Thank you for your faith."

Morgan glanced back at Salome. "When I left the Kell Hounds twelve years ago, I told no one—including, to my very deep regret, my brother—why dissolution of the Kell Hounds was necessary. In truth, I did not fully comprehend the reasons myself. I only knew that it had to be done." Morgan paused to collect himself, and to again survey the many faces turned toward him. "This belief I shared with many of you when I asked you to leave the Kell Hounds."

Kell's voice echoed from the 'Mech hangars surrounding the Kell Hounds. "Those I left behind—those I so callously abandoned—never knew that I had asked each of you to be prepared to return at some future time. I asked you to seek out other MechWarriors who had the fire and spirit of the original Kell Hounds. I asked some officers to form their own 'Mech companies, and still others I asked to join academies to instruct warriors and support personnel we could use later.

"I know how difficult it must have been all these years. I myself spent whole months disbelieving and denying all that happened on Mallory's World. There were also many times when I felt certain that I would never be able to reassemble the Kell Hounds." Almost strangled by emotion, Morgan's voice dropped to a deep whisper. "There were times when I believed you would not come if I called."

Morgan paused for a moment, then a smile spread over his face. "I'm very happy you had more faith in me than I had in you." He nodded in solemn salute to the men and women who had returned. "Perhaps some of you believe I have summoned you here to avenge my brother's death. But from the account Captain Allard has given me, I believe that to seek vengeance for Patrick would only cheapen the sacrifice he made. He fought to preserve a life and gladly sacrificed his own in doing so ..."

Morgan's voice trailed off as he knotted his fists and raised them to his shoulders. Screwing his eyes shut against tears, Morgan raised his face toward the black sky. Anger rippled through his body, then vanished as he forced his hands open. Slowly, calmly, he lowered them and again addressed the regiment.

"I could pretend to be a prophet and predict a coming conflict in which we will figure prominently, but that would be a sham. It's true that the wedding of Melissa Steiner to Prince Hanse Davion is bound to stir up tension and ignite dozens of battles, but we will not be a part of that. We have our own war to wage. It began on Mallory's World over fifteen years ago. An unspoken truce existed while Yorinaga Kurita and I both renounced what we had become, but that truce is ended now. As soon as we are ready, the conflict begins anew."

Morgan smiled and Dan saw a spark of happiness in the Colonel's dark eyes. "Over the next two weeks, I will speak with each of you personally—to welcome those who have not been with us before, and to thank those who have returned. We will train together and become the best mercenary regiment anywhere in the Successor States.

"Again, thank you. Dismissed."

At his order, the assembled mercenaries broke ranks but did not disperse. A rumble of applause started in the back ranks, then rose in waves to become a thundering ovation. Cheers and whistles and shouts of joy reverberated off the 'Mech hangars.

Morgan bowed his head and silent laughter shuddered through his frame. He turned to say something to Dan, but the din smothered his words. Even so, Dan understood what Morgan had mouthed.

Dan smiled and nodded. That's right, Colonel. It's great to be home.

21

Arc-Royal

District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth

3 March 3028

Cat Wilson pressed a mug of warm stout into Dan's hand the second he entered the recreation room. "Thanks much, Cat." Dan downed two mouthfuls of the thick, dark beer, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Ah, thank God for this stuff. The swill they brew on Tharkad is allegedly beer, but you couldn't convince any jury of it."

Cat nodded. "I hear that."

Dan shook his head and looked at the other officers filling the room. "God, Cat! Everyone's here." Dan pointed his mug toward a balding, heavy-set man. "Isn't that Conn O'Bannon?"

Cat smiled. "He went away a Captain and returns a Major. He brought two medium lances with him from the 21st Centauri Lancers." Cat nodded his head toward a striking blond amazon. "Remember Peggy Fitzmartin? She's in from a stint with the Blackhearts. She brought her lance with her." Cat also indicated a slightly graying MechWarrior with only one eye. "That's Walter de Mesnil. He left your brother's old unit to rejoin us."

Dan shook his head. "So many people . . .I'd nearly forgotten how big the Kell Hounds Regiment once was."

Cat sipped his own beer, then nodded slowly. "A lot of old faces, and a lot of new ones, too."

A small figure emerged from the crowd, carefully clutching a tumbler of beer in his small hands. Though physically a dwarf, the man's face was handsome, with a warm smile and an irrepressible fire in his eyes that showed no self-pity. His brown eyes peered up through a fringe of unruly black hair. "Which am I, Cat? New or old."

Cat winked at him. "Both, Clovis. Both."

Dan reached down and touched his mug to Clovis's glass. "I'd not expected to see you here." Then he noticed the Kell Hound patch on the dwarf's flight jacket. "Have you joined Fitzpatrick's flyers?"

Clovis shook his head. "Major Ward allowed the refugees from Styx use of the DropShip Lughto transport themselves to Lyons in the Isle of Skye. The Archon gave us land for a settlement there. In return, my mother offered to make the Bifrostavailable to the Kell Hounds so you'll have two JumpShips."

Cat smiled slyly. "And part of the deal was for us to take Clovis off her hands until she could finish the drop at Lyons."

"Harumph," Clovis grumbled. "Actually, Major Ward got word that the Eire 'Mech Company here on Arc-Royal was having difficulty with some programming, so I was drafted." Clovis looked up at Cat. "He's just angry because I beat him at cards."

Dan laughed aloud and stared at Cat. "Say it ain't so . . ."

Cat scowled at Clovis, then smiled. "Don't make anything big out of this, Dan, because I can still play better than you."

"Point well taken," Dan said, but he was looking around the room, frowning slightly. "Where's Lieutenant Brand? I would have thought at least one person from my lance would show up to greet me."

Dan noticed an exchange of glances between Cat and Clovis. What the hell have they got up their sleeve?

Clovis smiled innocently. "I don't know. He's probably around somewhere." Cat nodded in silent agreement.

Dan loosened his shirt collar, sighing, "Now there's two of you to give me trouble."

Spontaneous applause erupted as Morgan Kell walked into the room. Dan set his mug down on a nearby table and joined in, then noticed Salome Ward leaning back against the doorway. Dan turned to Cat and pointed to his beer. "Watch this, will you? I'll be back." Cat nodded, and Dan cut through the throng to Salome's side.

"I'm going to get some air. You want to join me?" Dan smiled hopefully and pointed back out toward the now darkened ferrocrete strip.

Salome hesitated, then nodded and preceded him from the building. As Dan closed the outside door behind them, it abruptly cut off the voices and other Human sounds of the gathering. The night sounds of chirping sichakaeand rustling long grasses quickly filled the void.

Dan reached out and rested his hands on Salome's shoulders. "Are you O.K., Salome?"

She drew in a deep breath, then nodded. "Yeah. I'll live. I just didn't expect all these conflicting feelings." She shrugged heavily. "Part of me wants to kill him for what he did, and another part of me still loves him." She looked over at Dan. "Does that make any sense?"

"Yeah. Sure." Dan nodded slowly. "I know part of what you're feeling: betrayal and abandonment." He paused to drink in some of the night's peace. "When I saw Morgan on Zaniah, I blasted him pretty hard. Everything I'd saved up for eleven years just came pouring out..."

Salome nodded. "I know. He told me." She looked up into Dan's blue eyes. "Morgan said you told him how much he hurt Patrick, you, and me."

As she turned away, Dan's hands slipped from her shoulders. Salome hugged her arms around herself. "He's so changed, Dan. All that wildness is gone, but the passion that drove him is still there. I can feel it. I so desperately want that part of him for myself, the way it was before, but part of me refuses to trust him. I never want to be hurt that bad again."

Dan chewed his lower lip, then stared up at Arc-Royal's twin full moons as he chose his words. "There's something going on between Morgan and Yorinaga Kurita. I don't know what it is, but I do know it has nothing to do with Patrick's death. Morgan knew, well before I told him anything, that Yorinaga Kurita had come out of exile. At the same time my father's debriefers were asking us about Styx and refusing to believe Yorinaga was back, Morgan knew Kurita had returned."

"It seems to be a conflict within him, though," Salome said. "He wants very much to finish what's between them, but he's also afraid of it. I feel his pain, Dan, and it hurts me that I can't open up enough to help him handle it."

Dan kicked at a stone on the ferrocrete. "The one thing I've gotten from Morgan in all the time I've been traveling with him is that he never wanted to hurt any of us. He told me he left us behind—you and Patrick and me—without sharing his fears because we would have headed out after Yorinaga Kurita and tried to kill him." Dan smiled sheepishly. "I say 'tried' because Morgan is convinced we would have died in any such fight." He looked down as sadness seeped into his voice. "Patrick did, and sacrificing my Valkyriedidn't kill Yorinaga."

Salome turned back to face him. "What are you saying?"

Dan sighed. "Morgan left to spare us his pain and to save our lives. He believes it, and I guess I do, too." Dan opened his hands. "Perhaps, if you give him a chance, he can prove that to you. Maybe, just maybe, the part of you that still loves him realizes that. I know he could use your support."

The hint of a smile brightened Salome's face. "There's a lot of sense in what you say, Dan." She shrugged. "I know I'll be giving it all a lot of thought."

Dan smiled. "Look, Salome, we've been through a lot together, and you've helped me through tough times like when I heard about Justin's injury and all. If you ever want someone to talk to ..."

Salome reached out and gave Dan a firm hug. "I appreciate it, Dan. I really do."

Just then, the meeting room door opened, painting a yellow rectangle of light across the ferrocrete. Salome released Dan and they both turned toward the 'Mech hangar. Clovis waved at them, his shadow shooting up to hugh proportions. "Captain, the Colonel would like to see you."

Dan glanced over at Salome but got only a big smile in response to the unspoken question on his face. She gave him a gentle shove, then followed him back into the staff party. Dan shivered. I don't like the feel of this. First, Cat and Clovis act like conspirators, and now Salome lock-steps me into the party.

Dan became more uneasy as the other Kell Hound officers in the meeting room watched him with bemused expressions on their faces. Morgan Kell extended his hand and enfolded Dan's hand in a strong, firm grip. Dan's heart sank as a wolfish grin spread over Morgan's face. No escape now.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Morgan began. "I present to you Captain Daniel Allard. When last many of you saw Dan, he was but a newly recruited Lieutenant. Prince Hanse Davion entrusted Lieutenant Allard and a brand new Valkyrieto our care straight out of the New Avalon Military Academy, and we were more than glad to accept him into our company."

Morgan winked at Dan and draped his right arm over his shoulders. "I understand, from a series of reports given to me by the Lyran Intelligence Corps as well as Kell Hound documents I reviewed while traveling planetside, that the Kell Hounds were very fortunate to get Dan. His leadership and hard work guided the unit through some difficult times. His tactical skill helped them through some tricky assignments, and his courage helped the unit to wrest victory from defeat in some desperate battles."

Morgan's voice fell low as his arm fell from Dan's shoulders. "In the battle for Styx, Dan sacrificed his Valkyriein an attempt to save my brother's life. That brave act has enlisted Captain Daniel Allard into the ranks of the Dispossessed."

Dan shot a hard glance at Morgan. Dispossessed?Fear gnawed at his stomach. For a MechWarrior, the thought of life without a 'Mech was a nightmare. Referring to a MechWarrior as Dispossessedwas not a joke to be made lightly. It was a curse, a vile curse. To be Dispossessed is death itself.

Mischief flashed in Morgan's brown eyes. "Our Techs could have cobbled together enough of some Kurita Panthersto give you a 'Mech that might work, Dan, but I will not have a Company Commander in the Kell Hound regiment piloting Frankenstein's 'Mech. It would be unseemly."

Morgan shrugged. "On the other hand, you are a gifted light 'Mech pilot, and the spare 'Mechs assigned to the regiment are all medium or heavy. What can we do?"

Is he kidding or not?Speechless, Dan looked around the room at the other MechWarriors. Their earlier looks of amusement had melted into dour frowns. Dan looked back at Morgan. "Are you serious, Colonel? If so, you might as well take out a gun and shoot me." Dan shook his head, then his face brightened with an idea. "Look, demote me. I won't be a Company Commander, and then you can give me the damned Panther.But don't do this to me!"

Morgan shook his head ruefully. "I couldn't demote you, Dan– not after all your service to the unit. I'm sure we can find something for you. You'll just have to pilot a desk for a while . . ."

Dan shook his head vehemently. "No! No way." Dan jabbed his thumb into his chest. "I'm a MechWarrior, dammit. Give me an AgroMech if you must, but I don't pilot anything that doesn't have moving parts. Period."

Morgan half-closed his eyes. "Very well. Perhaps we can accommodate you." Kell headed toward the door in the back of the room that led to the floor of the 'Mech bay. "Follow me."

His face burning with embarrassment, Dan cut through the other officers, forcing himself to ignore the titters of laughter behind him. What's going on? What sort of nightmare beast are they going to saddle me with?In his confusion and anger, Dan slammed the 'Mech bay door into the wall and marched stiffly into the hangar.

Ten-meter tall machines stood like silent sentinels all around the tall building's interior. Mostly humanoid in shape, the 'Mechs ranged in weight from 20 to 75 tons. Resplendent in the red and black color scheme favored by the Kell Hounds, the huge battle machines might have been toy soldiers arranged by some giant child for a mock battle.

Dan stopped short, his breath taken away by what he saw. Standing across the wide ferrocrete aisle stood a BattleMech. It was as tall as its fellows, but the ferocious leanness of the 'Mech immediately suggested capability for great speed. Its left hand was fully articulated, but the muzzle of a heavy laser replaced its right. Painted in the black and crimson colors of the Kell Hounds, it looked like a nightmare beast. From a Kurita nightmare . . .

Three medium laser ports dotted the 'Mech's chest left, right, and center to form three corners of a triangle pointing up toward the 'Mech's head. Dan's smile seemed to match the lupine grin on the 'Mech's head. Reminiscent of ancient Terran-Egyptian portrayals of gods, the 'Mech's wolf's-head design gave it an aggressive, fearsome aspect. Dan saw immediately that its ears served as sensor and communications pick-ups, and he mentally congratulated the designer for the way he had perfectly melded form and function.

Dan turned toward Morgan. "I've never seen anything like it."

Morgan smiled openly. "It's a brand new design, Dan. It's a Wolfhound.It's yours."

Dan shook his head. "Mine?"

Morgan nodded solemnly. "For what you did for Patrick." Morgan looked at the Wolfhound,then pointed toward the hangar doors behind. "Go on. Try it out. Your lance is waiting for you out there. They're in four Panthers . . .See what you can do."

Dan saluted smartly. "Yes, sir, Colonel!" He grinned. "With pleasure."

22

Arc-Royal

District of Donegal, Lyran Commonwealth

3 March 3028

Dan eased the lever bar down across the hatch and felt his ears pop as the Wolfhound'scockpit became pressurized. He knelt beside the hatch and smiled to see the dim outline of the control couch by the light of the hangar leaking in through the 'Mech's polarized eyes. He reached over the door and flipped a switch that fired up the 'Mech's fusion engine.

A sturdy thrumming began under him in the Wolfhound'sheart, and the energy lit bank after bank of switches, buttons, and monitors throughout the small cabin. Reaching out, he punched a glowing green button on the 'Mech's command console. The radio crackled to life.

"Clovis, do you read me?"

"Roger, Dan." The smile Dan visualized on the dwarf's face came through over the radio. "Impressive, isn't it?”

“Affirmative."

Clovis coughed lightly. "O.K. The first thing you're going to want to do is change into a cooling vest and other appropriate garb. You'll find a small locker built into the back of the command couch. It should have all you need."

Dan swung around and opened the narrow locker. From inside, he drew out a quilted vest made of a lightweight goretex designed to pull sweat away from the body. Threaded through the garment were flexible tubes of coolant that would protect the pilot somewhat against the tremendous amounts of heat a 'Mech can produce in battle. The tubes ran beneath the layer of ballistic cloth body-armor that formed the vest's outer covering. A power cord meant to be plugged into the command couch dangled from the vest's left flank.

Dan frowned as he stripped off his jacket and shirt. "Clovis, it occurs to me that this locker occupies the same space normally used for the ejection rockets." He peered deeper into the locker and winced. "I like having all this survival gear in here, as well as a change of clothes, but I think I'd like to be able to blast out of my 'Mech so I could use it."

Clovis's laughter echoed through the cockpit. "Cat bet me twenty ComStar bills you'd ask that question right off the bat. Dr. Banzai incorporated the Hatchetman'sunique ejection system into the Wolfhounddesign. The whole cockpit assembly comes away. No canopies to blow only half-away or cockpit walls to knock the command couch off course."

Dan winced as a twinge of pain lanced through his left shoulder. Remembering the collarbone broken when he bailed out at Styx, Dan laughed. "I think I like this design."

"Roger. Let me know when you've plugged in, and I'll run you through the ignition sequence."

"Roger." Dan slipped into the vest and tightened it down. Finding two adhesive sensor pads in a small drawer of the locker, he stuck them onto his bare upper arms. Then he quickly removed his dress trousers and boots and replaced them with shorts and a pair of plasteel boots that covered his legs to the knees. He pasted two more sensor pads on his body—one on the outside of each thigh—shut his clothes up in the locker, and slipped around into the command couch.

Dan used switches on the couch's right arm to raise the back and lower the feet until he felt comfortable. After plugging the cooling vest cord into the socket on the side of the couch, he popped open a panel on the couch's left arm and pulled out four cables. He snapped he clip-ends of the wires to the electrodes centered in the sensor pads, then threaded the wires up through the loops on the cooling vest. Letting the plugs hang down at his throat, he then belted himself into the chair.

Dan reached up behind his head and pulled the neurohelmet down from its perch. After settling the heavy metal and plastic headgear onto the cooling vest's padded shoulders, he plugged each of the sensor wires into the sockets at the helmet's throat. Dan adjusted the helmet until he felt the neurosensors press against the correct spots on his head, then centered the wedge-shaped faceplate so that he could see all the command console's sensor monitors without any difficulty.

Dan punched a button and toggled the radio receiver, then adjusted the volume to eliminate the static hiss. After keying his mike, he said, "All strapped in, Clovis. Give me the rundown."

There was pride in Clovis's deep voice. "It would normally take about two days to have you matched to that monster, but we pulled some readouts from the salvaged Pantheryou used on Northwind. I've also added a program with a feedback loop in it to your computer."

Dan punched the radio's visual feed on to the auxiliary monitor. Clovis smiled at him. "The program monitors your performance and checks it against what's considered your normal mode of operation and your best and worst past performances. It reallocates power and processing time to assist your weak points, and augments your abilities if you're dead on during a particular battle."

"In other words, your program will fine-tune the Wolfhoundinto me?"

"Right," said Clovis. "The double-checking also allows the computer to shut down the 'Mech if the performance profiles vary too wildly from the norm. That way some hotshot using a chip-base EEG filter can't come in and steal your 'Mech."

Dan's chuckle echoed through his helmet. "Beautiful, but let's get this monster on the road. What's my check code?"

Clovis' voice became somber. "No greater love ..."

Clovis's words recalled to Dan the sacrifice Patrick Kell had made on Styx. No greater love hath one man for another than to lay his life down for his fellow man.Dan swallowed against the lump rising in his throat. Such old words, yet with so much truth to them . . ."Thank you, Clovis. Well-chosen."

Dan hit a button on the console. "Pattern check: Captain Daniel W. Allard."

A low hum rose in Dan's helmet, then formed itself into computer-synthesized speech. "Voiceprint pattern match obtained. Proceed with initiation sequence."

Dan spoke around the thickness in his throat. "Code check: No greater love."

The computer spoke again. "Authorization confirmed. Welcome aboard, Captain. Full control is now yours."

Dan smiled as the computer shunted power to all the weapon systems. The 'Mech's primary monitor flickered to life, and the computer quickly filled it with a schematic of the Wolfhound.Then on the secondary monitor there came a computer-generated image of the surrounding landscape on the scale of two-and-a-half centimeters to a kilometer.

Whoa. This is some new stuff,Dan gloated to himself. "Hey Clovis! Do you want to explain how I got this map?"

"Well, Dan, right now, you're getting a feed from the Arc-Royal Meteorological Society satellites. The mapping program works from freely available data like that, or from any survey maps you want to download into the system."

Dan thought for a moment. "If I were to get a line from a military satellite, would it include enemy units on the images?"

"That would depend on what they were sending out to their units. I don't know if my interpreter program can handle all the different data a military unit might send out. If we can sample their signals and crack their scrambler, we can modify the program. Right now, it will receive military data from the Commonwealth and the Fed Suns."

Dan leaned forward. "According to this I have three—no– four medium lasers. I saw three ports on the chest." Dan squinted. "The fourth fires into my rear arc."

"Keep them off your back. The large laser in your 'Mech's right forearm will keep your enemies worried at long ranges."

"Roger that, Clovis."

Clovis hit some switches and started the hangar bay door opening. While Dan turned the Wolfhoundto face it, he brought up the 'Mech's full holographic combat display. It surrounded him with 360 degrees of vision. By manipulating the joysticks capping the arms of the command couch, Dan maneuvered twin golden crosshair sights over the display. The crosshairs dropped to half-intensity as he sighted something outside the fire arcs for his weapons.

Clovis's voice buzzed into his head. "The three thumb buttons on the left joystick trigger the chest-mounted lasers. Be careful, because they don't have a safety override. If you cross your 'Mech's arms over its chest and then shoot, you'll wound yourself."

Dan laughed. As though fighting the enemy isn't dangerous enough."Thanks for the warning. The buttons on the right stick fire the larger laser and the after laser, right?"

"Roger." Clovis held up a hand and Dan saw he'd crossed his fingers. "Luck, Captain."

"Thanks, Clovis." Dan stepped the Wolfhoundout into the night. Well, Rover, let's go out and see if either one of us has what it takes to destroy aPanther lance all by ourselves.

The computer painted the Panthers'heat silhouettes on the display in shades of glowing green. Easing the Wolfhound'sright arm up, Dan worked the targeting crosshairs onto the further of the paired humanoid 'Mechs. He brushed his thumb against the firing button, and the crosshair blinked on and off, confirming a sensor lock.

Dan punched the button. The large laser's bloody beam skewered the Panther'sspine, blasting chunks of ceramic armor from the back of the sleek 'Mech's back. First the Pantherbegan to spin, then stumbled and crashed to the ground.

Radio chatter filled the Wolfhound'scockpit as his computer locked onto his foes' frequency and cracked their scrambling routine. Dan recognized Meg Lang's voice instantly. "I'm hit. Gyros are out. This baby is down for the count."

A strong male voice broke in. "Dammit, Eddie! He's behind us. Swing around with Gwyn. Dan's probably got this frequency. Shift to pattern two."

"Roger, Lieutenant."

You're smart, Austin Brand. I'll give you that. Still, you won't catch me between two forces.As the radio hiss died, Dan glanced at terrain map. Pulling the Wolfhoundback and around to the right, he marched it between two low hills, then up a narrow ravine. This brought him out in front of where the two Panthershad stood when he ambushed them.

He raised the Wolfhoundabove the ravine rim just enough to give his chest-mounted lasers a clear shot. Through scrubby underbrush and between slender tree trunks, he saw the Pantherhe'd downed earlier. Meg had managed to gather the 'Mech arms under it and had raised the machine to a sitting position.

Dan shook his head in wonder. Without gyros, that's a major accomplishment. I really hate to do this to you, Meg.Smiling, he opened a tightbeam channel to the Panther.Just as he was about to speak, a chill ran down his spine.