Текст книги "Wolf Pack"

38

The news of the successful challenge to Jaime Wolf's supremacy was the talk of Harlech. The Dragoons all knew, and the mercenary groups and Successor State representatives were beginning to get wind of it. As word spread, so did the controversy. Not everyone agreed that Elson's challenge and the subsequent appointment of Alpin as head of Wolf's Dragoons were legal. But Jaime Wolf made no public statements or appearances, having retired to his compound to the west of the city. He might have been in hiding. Or mourning. Or maybe he was just ashamed to show his face. Whatever the reason for his withdrawal, his silence sanctioned what had happened.

Dechan was confused, and the constant badgering from the various merc units courting him only made it worse. The news of Wolf's deposition should have been welcome, but instead he felt disturbed and unsettled. Restless and unable to sleep at night, he had taken to prowling the streets.

Nights in Harlech weren't quiet. The locals said it hadn't always been that way, except of course in the rowdy temptowns where the offplanet mercs hung out their shingles. Nightly celebrations or fights, or both, kept the townies awake late into the night. Dechan didn't like what he was seeing. Maybe Elson was right. Maybe the Dragoons werechanging.

But what Dechan saw was not all of the Dragoons.

Several units were away on contract, but not Beta, the regiment in which he had served. He had a hard time imagining that they would serve under an upstart, but they were following the lead of their new commander, Colonel Fancher. Dechan had heard that she'd been dismissed, but somewhere along the line Wolf had recalled her. His mistake. Dechan had heard her speak on the news last night, saying that she was solidly behind Alpin.

Dechan's wanderings took him this night to the park across from the general headquarters. Wolf Hall, they called it. Would it soon be Alpin Hall, or did the young upstart's ego not extend that far? The moon cast a fitful light between the fast-moving clouds. Shadows danced across the squat outbuildings and up the sides of the tall towers, whence they leapt off into oblivion like the mythical lemmings.

Whatever the machinations in the command structure, Dragoon business went on. Lights burned in several offices. Even with Jaime Wolf no longer in charge, somewhere Wolf's Dragoons were on duty, and they needed staff support. That meant that here, someone was listening. Maybe things weren't so bad after all. Maybe different was all right.

"Karmabrings us together again."

Spinning away from where he had stood, Dechan threw himself into the shadow of the wall and drew his sidearm. He couldn't see the speaker at first, but he could hear him panting as if he had been running. The man's dark uniform blended with the shadows, making it hard to see him though Dechan knew he was there. Soon the light blob that was his face became clear. Two smaller blobs, hands held out and open, were clear as well. There seemed to be no danger, however, and Dechan straightened from his crouch, holstering his weapon as he did.

"Michi?"

"I would wish you a good evening, but I doubt it will be one, Dechan– san."

"We don't speak for years and then you start with a riddle."

"I am sorry, Dechan -san. I would not have intruded on your life if it were not important. The plans are made. They will kill him soon."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jaime Wolf will not see the sunrise."

Dechan found it curious to realize that he believed Michi's statement without question. Jaime's death would certainly end any hope of seeing him restored. Dechan didn't know whose plot this might be, and he didn't care. He also didn't see how it involved him. "Why not tell him yourself?"

"I cannot." There was shouting on the far side of the building. Michi looked in that direction for a moment, listening. "There is no time for argument. There are others I must warn. As a Dragoon, the task to warn Wolf falls to you."

"I'm not a Dragoon anymore."

The shouting drew closer.

"You once said that being a Dragoon was like being a samurai," Michi said in a hushed voice. "A samurai serves until death. You have the opportunity to save your lord from dishonorable death."

"He abandoned me."

Michi took a step back into the shadows. Even to Dechan's dark-adapted eyes, none of the man was visible save for his face. "If you believe that, you can have your revenge. Do nothing and Wolf and his family will die."

Then the face was gone.

Dechan was alone, but not for long. A trio of Home Guard troopers came pelting along the avenue. One saw Dechan and covered him with a rifle while calling for him to stand still. Dechan didn't move.

"That's not him," a man wearing sergeant's stripes said as he knocked the first trooper's barrel up. "Our man's wearing black."

"He coulda changed," the trooper whined.

"Not enough time." The sergeant turned to Dechan and squinted at him. "Say, citizen, haven't I seen you around?"

"Name's Dechan Fraser."

"Don't sound familiar. You haven't seen anybody lurking about, have you?"

"I saw a jogger in a dark suit down by the lake. I thought it was early for PE, but you know how fanatical some people are."

"That's gotta be him," the first trooper shouted and started off at a run. The other two guardsmen followed. As he disappeared into the trees, the sergeant shouted back, "Be a good citizen and report to the guard station at the Hall. Tell them what you saw."

Dechan thought about ignoring the sergeant's order, but he realized that the sergeant had his name. If he checked up and Dechan hadn't reported, it could raise suspicions that he had been a party to the fugitive's escape. Reluctantly, Dechan walked to the guard station. The guard captain wore the stylized wolf's-head favored by partisans of the new order. Though he seemed not to have much use for Dechan's circumstantial evidence, he spent a long time establishing it. During that time, Dechan thought about what Michi had said. Every time he went over the possible outcomes, he liked them less. He wanted to be away from Wolf Hall, but running out before the captain dismissed him wouldn't help anyone.

While Dechan waited for dismissal, Hamilton Atwyl exited the elevator bank. On his way across the lobby, he happened to glance at the guard station. Seeing Dechan, his face opened into a smile.

"Dechan? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Ham."

Dechan made his remark with a jocular tone, but it evoked a guarded look in Atwyl's eyes. "You're not under arrest, are you?"

With a shake of his head, Dechan said, "Just reporting a prowler."

"A prowler?" Atwyl frowned, then looked thoughtful. When he spoke, his voice was pitched so that anyone nearby would have no trouble hearing his words. "It's been a long time since we've talked. If you've got a few, I'll pop for the brew."

It was obviously an invitation, and one meant to be seen as nonpolitical. Under the circumstances, Dechan suspected that it was anything but. Still undecided about how to handle the burden Michi had placed on him, he realized that he knew too little of what was happening. Ham was an old friend, and high in the Dragoon command structure. At the very least, Dechan might get a better sense of the power balance. "A few. If I'm not home by dawn, Jenette'll wonder what happened."

"Wouldn't want to cause trouble between you two. You stuck together through a hell of a lot."

Atwyl laid his arm around Dechan's shoulders and started to lead him into the Hall. When the guard captain objected, Atwyl said, "That's all right, Captain. Mr. Fraser's a veteran. I'll vouch for him."

"You'll sign his pass?"

"Yes, I'll sign his pass." Atwyl scribbled his name on the datapad the officer thrust at him, then waited with obvious impatience while the captain processed a visitor's badge for Dechan. Wearing the plastic ID tag, Dechan allowed Atwyl to take him to the cafeteria. It was almost deserted and, once they had their beers, Atwyl selected a table well away from any of the other late-night customers.

Atwyl abandoned any pretense at joviality as soon as they were seated. "So where do you stand on the succession?"

"I'm out of the Dragoons, Ham. Remember?"

"Once a Dragoon, always a Dragoon."

"Somebody already fed me that line tonight, Ham."

"A prowler, maybe?"

"You know about that?"

"Don't know nothing, but I was hoping you'd tell me."

"There's a plot to kill Wolf."

Atwyl sat back in his seat, his beer bottle tilting in his slack hand and coming precariously close to spilling. "You're sure about this?"

"Fellow who mentioned it seemed to be very sure."

"You involved?"

"Would I be talking to you if I was?"

Atwyl laughed softly, bitterly. "I don't know anymore. There are too many two-faces for this old war-horse." He took a hit from his bottle. "When?"

"Before morning."

"That doesn't leave much time. Will you come with me to Carmody? Tell him what you know?"

"I don't know much."

"We'll need everything we can get. Will you help? For old times' sake?"

Heat burned under Dechan's skin. "I'll talk to Carmody. "

* * *

"I didn't think they'd go that far," Carmody said when they told him. Significantly, he believed Dechan's unsupported statement. "But it all falls into place. That's why they sent the Home Guard out on maneuvers. Wanted me to oversee the whole thing, too."

"There's still a platoon in barracks besides the regular security forces, isn't there?"

Carmody nodded. "But Elson's got a Point of Elementals covering Wolf's place. They're supposed to be security against riots, but they're a guard. They won't let us in."

"Are they armored?"

"No. Even for him, that would be too blatant just now."

"Then we don't have to ask," Atwyl said. "Five Elementals won't stand up against a whole platoon."

"Then what, Ham? What do we do when we're inside?"

"We get Wolf out."

"It sounds so simple, but it isn't. Where would he go?"

Dechan looked at the clock. "If you're going to do something, you'd better do it soon."

"You're right. We'll have to decide what happens next after we make sure there is a next. Maybe Jaime'll have some ideas."

* * *

The night was fading into the half-light of predawn when the heavy hovervan whirred down the street toward the Wolf family compound. It might have been a transport truck carrying in foodstuffs from the surrounding countryside to fill the stalls of the fresh-food markets, but it wasn't. Better light would have revealed that its corporate markings were hastily painted and made its military lines readily apparent.

Dechan sat in the hovertruck's cab along with a pimple-faced kid who was supposed to be the best hover jockey in the Home Guard. Atwyl was elsewhere, doing things that were necessary if this scheme was to succeed. Through his earpiece, Dechan could hear the growling of the truck in which Colonel Carmody rode. The platoon of motorized infantry was approaching the Wolf family compound. Dechan popped the plug for a moment, then replaced it after confirming that it was the trucks' snarling engines he heard echoing in the predawn streets.

Carmody was with his platoon of Home Guard. He had to be; no one else could have gotten them out of barracks and persuaded them to face the Elementals guarding the Wolf compound. As it was, Dechan could tell by the colonel's haranguing that some of them were hanging back by the transports. The colonel's arguments shifted to a different sort when the leader of the Elementals confronted him.

Dechan turned on the hovervan's video deck and fumbled with the controls until he had it tuned to the channel from Carmody's truck. They had arranged that the video pickup would cover the gate area so that Dechan could observe as well as listen in to what was happening. He could see Carmody arguing with the Elemental leader. Suddenly, the colonel stopped talking and cocked his head to one side. Then he looked over his shoulder toward the center of the city.

It was painfully obvious to Dechan what was happening. The colonel's headset was spouting a report from one of the spotter posts they had set up on all the probable routes to the suburbs. The assassins were on their way.

The colonel's reaction must have meant something to the Elemental leader as well. He started calling orders to his Point.

"This is going wrong," Dechan told his driver. "Take the van in."

"I don't have orders," the kid objected. "We're supposed to wait for Colonel Carmody's signal."

Dechan slapped him on the shoulder. "Take the van in!"

The picture wobbled as the hovervan's engine gobbled power to spin the fans faster. The truck blasted from the alley where it was hidden and headed for the compound.

Carmody saw it coming and shouted. "Launcher on the gate!"

As the missile team jumped out of the lead transport, the Point commander reacted. He chopped Carmody in the throat and raced for cover, but he wasn't fast enough. The rocket roared past him, impacting slightly off-center on the iron gates. Fire flared over the gate, and the Elemental was flung away like a doll.

One valve was blown clear and the other hung drunkenly as the van barreled toward the gate. The Elementals had opened fire on the Home Guardsmen, who were returning fire erratically. Dechan caught a glimpse of Carmody sprawled awkwardly as the hovervan bucked over the debris and slammed into the hanging gate. Iron rang and the truck's fender crumpled, but the driver fought the slewing van and kept it on course through the gateway.

The hovervan roared up the drive, leaving behind the firing at the gate. With the house set so far back from the street, soldiers on foot would take some time to reach it. The van flashed across the parklike grounds in seconds. The van slowed as it climbed the slight hill, and the driver dropped the speed further as they took the last turn. The move was deliberate; a fast-moving vehicle would likely be taken as a hostile. The fans were muted to a purr by the time he spun the vehicle to a broadside parking position on the green in front of the mansion.

Wolf was waiting on the porch. Behind him, Joshua stood in the open doorway, a laser pistol cradled in both hands. The boy was probably more of a threat to himself than to an intruder. His mother obviously agreed; she appeared and appropriated the weapon. She joined Wolf as the hovervan settled, its fans idling.

Dechan was almost amused to see that Wolf seemed surprised to see him step down from the van.

"Is this a rescue or an assault, Dechan?" he asked.

"Both," Dechan answered perversely. "But I'm with the parties of the first part."

"And who's the other side?"

"I think you know better than me."

Satisfied that there was no immediate danger, the rest of the family boiled out onto the porch to surround the little group. Dechan ignored their questions and spoke to Wolf.

"There's a plot against your life scheduled to be executed tonight."

Wolf looked at the graying sky. "There's not much night left."

"Exactly."

"There's no need for killing," Katherine said. "Don't we have enough dead? We could just leave."

"We could," Marisha said. "But Jaime can't."

"Why not?" Katherine asked.

"Because, whether he wants to be involved or not, he's too good a rallying point for those who oppose him." Marisha's expression was grim. "No one will rally around a dead man."

Katherine looked appalled. "You're talking about murder!"

Dechan snorted. "I don't think they see it that way. This is probably just a necessary precaution in the battle for supremacy in the Dragoons. Is it murder when you have one of your Trials? What about it, Wolf? If you'd fought for yourself in that challenge, Elson would have killed you then. Now, then. What's the difference?"

"There's enough of a difference that it will cause him problems," Wolf said.

"Only if he isn't the one to tell the story," Marisha said.

"There's truth in that," Wolf agreed with a sigh. "Maybe it's not too late to try and fix things."

A sharp series of explosions sounded from the gate, followed by increased weapons fire. "It won't be your choice if you stay here much longer."

Wolf nodded. "Get everyone in the van. We'll go out the back way. Riverview Parkway will put us on the expressway to the port."

There wasn't a lot of talking as the family boarded the hovervan. A loud explosion made Katherine jump and she nearly fell from the tail, but Rachel grabbed her arm and steadied her. Dechan sealed the doors and moved around to the front. The driver didn't let him get seated before he gunned the fans. The van howled away from the mansion, Wolf giving directions from the cargo compartment through the open panel.

The ride to the spaceport was tense, but they encountered no roadblocks, no ambushes. Men wearing Home Guard uniforms were manning the approaches to the spaceport. They waved the van through. Hamilton Atwyl and Brian Cameron were standing at the foot of the passenger ramp when they pulled up.

"I'm glad to see you, Colonel," Atwyl said as Wolf climbed out the back of the truck. "We were worried when we heard that Colonel Carmody was down."

Wolf's eyes flashed. "Another score to settle."

Cameron helped the women out of the van while Wolf talked to Atwyl. There was no luggage for the waiting crewmembers to carry. They scurried up the ramp ahead of the family. Cameron had a last word with Atwyl, before the aerospace colonel took off across the field in his hoverjeep. The great DropShip began to hiss and clang as the crew prepared for launch. A crewmember fretted, waiting for Wolf to board.

The Colonel held out his hand to Dechan. "Thank you."

Ignoring the offered hand, Dechan said, "I don't want your thanks."

"Well, you've got them anyway. I appreciate what you've done."

Dechan was distinctly uncomfortable. He couldn't look Wolf in the face. Staring off across the field, he asked, "Where will you go?"

"To the other side of the mountain."

"Why not just leave? Go to Davion?"

"Running away won't solve anything."

No, it wouldn't. "He'll come after you."

"He's welcome to try." Wolf smiled in the way Dechan remembered from years ago. It made him feel sorry for whoever got in Wolf's way. "Come with us. We'll need good MechWarriors."

"I won't leave Jenette."

Cameron called out from the top of the ramp. "Colonel, gate reports firing."

Wolf frowned. "There's no time to get her, Dechan. We can send a message for her to join us."

"And if they intercept it? No thanks, Colonel. I'll look after her myself."

"I wouldn't leave Marisha, either. Good luck, Dechan."

Turning his back on the Colonel, Dechan hopped aboard the van and ordered the anxious driver to pull out. Dust kicked out as the fans whirred to full speed, pelting Wolf as he ran up the ramp. Dechan didn't look back. The driver took the van around the bulk of the DropShip and away from the firefight at the main gate. They headed for a storage shed where technician uniforms and passes waited for them. While they changed, the Chieftainlifted for orbit.