Текст книги "Mercenary's Star"

Автор книги: Уильям Кейт

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

16

 

"Move it, people, move it!" General Thorvald ground his teeth in frustration, and his fist came down on the arm of the control seat in his Warhammer'scockpit.

A plaintive voice sounded in his earspeaker. "We can't move him, General!"

"Clear a way! I'm coming up there!"

The Warhammershouldered past a Stingerand a Phoenix Hawk,moving rapidly up the gravel-paved road. They were still surrounded by jungle, but stars showed through gaps in the trees further up the hill. They had almost reached the crest of the rim basin when thishad happened.

One of the cumbersome LoggerMechs was down on its front knees, the hindquarters of the four-legged machine protruding into the air in an ungainly and somewhat vulnerable position. The shoulder of the road had given way under a careless misstep. The ‘Mech's right foreleg had gone off the road in a rattle of stones and dirt, leaving the ‘Mech on its knees with no way to achieve the purchase necessary to right itself once more. The pilot's attempts to raise the machine on just its left leg had only sent a fresh avalanche of loose rock down the slope. The ‘Mech now leaned heavily on its shoulder against the embankment to its left, unable to move and completely blocking the road.

Thorvald read the numeral on the stalled machine's flank."Adams!"

"Yessir!" Adam's voice was tinny and quick with fear. "Should I punch out, sir?"

"No, no! Don't eject! Everything's going to be all right! Just sit tight"

"Yessir! You... you’re not going to push me off the edge, are you, sir?"

"No, Adams, we're going to get you off of there. Stay calm. Don't touch anything."

"Yessir!"

Thorvald considered the problem for a moment. There was still plenty of time to reach Regis before their confederates in the city created the planned diversion, and he wanted to arrive with every ‘Mech intact. To lose one here and now would be to admit that the merc commander was right, and Thorvald still harbored a simmering resentment against the man. The General had been opposed to seeking professional foreign help from the start, believing that a large enough rebel force could slip into the University and bring about the rising called for in the plan. It had been that fool Ericksson who had volunteered his AgroMechs and suggested the underground tunnels from the Ericksson-Agro plant.

He locked the Warhammer'slegs and disconnected from his helmet. After pulling on his tunic against the relatively cool night air, he opened the hatch and dropped down the chain ladder to the road. The LoggerMech loomed just ahead. He picked his way up the hill and walked under the Mech's belly, examining the ground where the leg had broken through the shoulder. Three other ‘Mechs, another LoggerMech, the Dervish,and the Locust,had been ahead of Adams' machine in line and were waiting just ahead.

He pulled out the hand comlink clipped to his tunic. "Adams? This is the General. Unlock your lead chain and let it drag, will you?"

"Yes, sir."

There was a sharp rattle from above, then a clank and a thud as the carballoy chain composed of fifty-kilo links trailed onto the road between the LoggerMech's forelegs. Thorvald signaled the lead LoggerMech. "Gunderson, back your machine down here. We'll use you to tow Adams out. Montido, we'll have to use your Dervishto lift the chain to Gunderson's tow ring."

There was a moment's blind shuffling in the darkness. "Uh, General? This is Montido. How do I get hold of that chain?"

"Good God, man, pick it up!"

"Uh, sir? My Dervishdoesn't have hands."

Thorvald closed his eyes and sagged back against a tree. Around him, ground troops who had gathered to watch looked at one another with carefully masked expressions. Of the three lead ‘Mechs, only the Dervishwas remotely humanoid. Somehow, Thorvald had assumed that it was equipped with hands, forgetting that its forearms ended in paired laser projectors and SRM launchers. Why hadn't he put one of the Phoenix Hawksin the lead?

"O.K., Montido. Stand down." He thought furiously, rubbing his eyes with both hands. He needed a ‘Mech with hands to lift the massive chain from the ground between the knees of Adam's LoggerMech and to connect it to the tow ring on the belly of Gunderson's LoggerMech. All of his hand-equipped ‘Mechs were further down the road and couldn't get past because of Adams' stalled machine.

The obvious alternative was for one of the Phoenix Hawks, Wasps,or the Stingerto fire its jump jets and vault over the blocking ‘Mech to the far side. All were jump-capable, and all had hands. The problem was that jumping was a tricky maneuver, one that could get even experienced pilots into trouble on occasion. An inexperienced pilot could come down wrong and wreck his BattleMech, perhaps killing himself in the process.

A second alternative was to have one of those ‘Mechs go around the LoggerMech True, the hill was steep and the jungle growth was fairly thick here, but Waspsand Stingerswere designed to be maneuverable. One of them should be able to slip around downslope from Adams, climb the hill farther up, and get into position to connect the chain. Nadine Cheka was the Stingerpilot, a young woman who seemed to have a real knack for handling her ‘Mech.

General Thorvald raised the comlink to his lips and began giving the necessary orders.

* * * *

Grayson, Ramage, McCall, and Lori stepped out onto the lighted floor of the cave. Around them, the ‘Mechs of the Gray Death loomed huge and shadowy. As they started toward the maintenance area, a wide-eyed young rebel stepped out to block them. "Halt!" he said, cradling his hunting rifle awkwardly at port arms.

"Hello, son," Ramage said. "Stand easy."

"Oh...uh, good evening, Sergeant. Oh, Captain Carlyle!" The boy snapped to an impression of attention. "Good evening, sir!"

Grayson smiled at him, and nodded. "It's Willoch, isn't it?”

“Yessir!"

"We're going through to inspect our BattleMechs, Willoch." Grayson started forward, but Willoch shifted the rifle uncertainly in his hands. "Uh...Captain, I'm afraid I can't let you.”

“Eh?"

"Colonel Brasednewic gave me orders, sir. Said he'd have my hide if anyonewent to those ‘Mechs!"

"The Colonel couldn't have meant us..."

"Uh...he said especiallyyou...uh...sir!"

Grayson frowned. Though he'd expected to encounter sentries in the ‘Mech maintenance area, he still wasn't sure of the best way to deal with them. He still didn't know.

"We've got to go through, Willoch. Your friends may be in trouble. We're going to go help them."

"But my orders, sir..." Almost he stepped aside, doubt vivid behind his eyes.

As Grayson was speaking with the boy, Ramage moved to where he was almost alongside the sentry. The blade-stiff edge of his hand descended, and McCall stepped forward in time to help catch the sentry and lower him to the ground.

"Better this way," Ramage said, answering Grayson's unspoken question. "If he lets us through, some stuffed uniform could order him shot for disobeying orders. He's a good kid, and I don't want him hurt."

"So you slugged him. Good thinking."

A stir of movement made Grayson turn. Clay, Yorulis, and Debrowski appeared from up the tunnel, breathing hard. "We had to dodge some rebel sentries," Yorulis said, "but we made it."

Grayson looked at each face in turn. "You all are still agreed on this?"

"Cap'n," McCall said. "We ha' nae much time."

The others nodded agreement. "Even if their plan goes off perfectly," Lori said quietly, "it could still end up a slaughter. If we're there, we might be able to steady them."

"At least we won't be feeling that we're sending them out to do what we won't," Clay added.

Grayson had been unable to persuade Thorvald or Ericksson of the folly of an attack on Regis. Nor could he persuade the rebel Council to allow the Gray Death to accompany the assault. They insisted that the mercenaries were too expensive to risk in open battle and must remain behind, safe, until Regis was secured. After that, the Legion's help would be welcome in restoring order in the city and in securing the Kurita prisoners.

Grayson had wrestled with the problem for most of the past three days. When the Legion had begun training the Free Verthandi Rangers, the students had been strangers. Grayson, Ramage, and all the rest had felt concern about seeing untrained youngsters thrown into battle, but it was the detached concern of professionals for inefficiency and waste.

Now, after six weeks, Grayson and his men knew those students as people. Realizing that the Legion’s fate was inextricably bound up with the fate of the Free Verthandi Rangers, Grayson felt responsible for those students because he been responsible for their training. He could not simply stand aside and watch them led off to face a situation for which they were not yet fully prepared. These were issues of honor and of personal accountability that went beyond the letter of the Gray Death Legion's contract with the Verthandian rebels.

"Ram, we'll see you when we get back. Until then, you're in charge."

"Luck, Captain."

The six Warriors hurried toward the main caverns and their waiting BattleMechs.

* * * *

It was 0210, and the BattleMech strike force of the Free Verthandi Rangers moved through the broad gully at maximum speed, which proved to be lamentably slow. Though the light BattleMechs could easily have covered the distance in half the time, the lumbering AgroMechs, especially the logging machines, were not designed for speed or maneuverability. This was especially true because the gully floor was not as smooth as Thorvald had expected. They were following one of the wide, winding flow paths carved by runoff water during the seasonal heavy rains. At those times, this and the hundreds of other arroyos carved through the Bluesward became filled with swift-running, muddy water that catapulted down to the swamps and rivers as thundering waterfalls. At other times, the gullies were dry. This one provided perfect cover for an approach to Regis, a sheltered canyon that would shield them from IR and other night vision devices mounted around the city.

Centuries of erosion had carved out a nightmarish tangle of exposed boulders and deep pits. Sometimes, like now, the watercourse broadened and became flat enough to easily traverse, but Thorvald and his men had to be continually on the lookout for sudden areas of broken ground. ‘Mechs with IR vision devices could usually see well enough, though interpreting what they saw was sometimes another matter. Most of the AgroMechs, however, were literally in the dark. They were dependent on low-power microwave transmissions from their faster companions to warn them of approaching rugged ground where a ‘Mech had to slow to a cautious crawl.

It was slow going, and time was running out. It had taken nearly an hour to free Adams' LoggerMech from its predicament on the basin rim road. Nadine Cheka's Stingerhad gotten stuck in undergrowth and loose soil just below the stranded machine. Her efforts to move up and out of the trap had set off another round of rockslides that threatened to sweep her and Adams' LoggerMech completely off the face of the slope. The problem had been solved by having a number of ‘Mech pilots climb out of their machines to pass a heavy cable down the slope to Nadine. With the other end secured to a towring on the Dervish,she had managed to pull her way hand-overhand up the slope, until at last her Stingerwas on the up-slope side of Adams' LoggerMech.

After that, the job was simply a matter of picking up the tow chain from Adams' ‘Mech and attaching it to the D-ring on Gunderson's ‘Mech. With the second LoggerMech taking the strain on the dragchain, Adams had at last been able to get enough purchase on the roadbed to pull his ‘Mech's right leg back up onto hard ground and to get it walking on all fours once more. Moments later, they'd emerged from the jungle and onto the rolling grassland of the Bluesward.

At 0045, Thorvald had transmitted a coded message toward the distant city; Attack delayed. Hold diversion until 0200. Attack will commence at 0245.

He'd waited a minute or two for an acknowledgement, but heard nothing. That caused a slight, nagging worry, but Thorvald refused to let it bother him. It could be an equipment failure, or perhaps the rebels were not in a position to answer at the moment. He certainly could not afford to stand there waiting for the reply, and he would not be able to hear the beamed microwave transmission while his ‘Mech was down in the gully. He decided that the best course was to proceed to the jump-off point outside the city. At 0200, he would listen for the code phrase, which would indicate that the diversion had been set off at the new time. If he did not hear the phrase then, he would consider aborting the attack. Thorvald felt that it would be foolish to abandon the mission over something as insignificant as a few minutes' delay in acknowledging a message.

The trek had gone relatively smoothly after that, at least until Vikki Traxen misunderstood what she saw on her IR scan and put her Locust'sfoot into a hole in the dry streambed, pitching her machine forward with a crash. Traxen was unhurt, but a driver cam in her Locust'sleft ankle had bent, and a coolant seal just above had ruptured. Her ‘Mech could walk, but with a quarter-speed limp, and she'd had to cut off coolant flow to the Locust's entire left leg. That meant further malfunctions for certain, as maneuvers with the straining leg drove the unit's internal temperature up.

Thorvald had sent Traxen limping to the rear, but only after losing another ten minutes trying to open an access panel to see whether the damage could be repaired. The fall had sprung the panel's lock mechanism, and they'd been forced in the end to use Collin Dace's Phoenix Hawkwith a raiser bar to pry it open.

Thorvald glanced for the fiftieth time at the digital chronometer set into his main console. Time was tight, but they could still pull it off.

* * * *

With hands clasped behind his back, Nagumo watched the dying glow in the sky to the southeast. The warehouse fire had been stubborn and fierce, an explosive blaze among the tanks of azelwax stored there. A lance of Third Strike Regiment ‘Mechs had finally got it under control using SRMs tipped with foam bombs. Damage had been confined to the warehouse and the buildings immediately adjacent. The whole affair was unremarkable and he would not even have been called out of bed, except that...

Security forces closing off the block had caught sight of a pair of men fleeing the area. When the force commander had given pursuit, the pair had turned on their pursuers and opened fire with handguns. In the brief firefight, one of the fugitives had been killed, the other cornered and captured. Two security personnel had been wounded in the struggle.

So, the fire had been set deliberately. That was not so unusual, for anti-Combine violence had increased in Regis over the past year or two. What had piqued Nagumo's interest was the fact that his men had found a small, personal transceiver on their prisoner, and it was of a type manufactured and sold on another world. That might not have been so unusual, either. High-tech items such as transceivers and comlinks were favorite trade items for cargo because they were low-bulk and high-profit. What did interest Nagumo was the trademark on this particular radio. It showed that the transceiver had been manufactured on Galatea, the planet that some called Mercenary's Star.

This incident, coupled with the fact that rebel emissaries from Verthandi had recently hired mercenaries on Galatea, was disquieting. It meant that the rebels operating in Regis were in touch with the rebels in the jungle. It also meant that rebels had started the warehouse fire. Under whose orders? From where? Within the city? Or from out of the jungle?

The mystery had deepened after close inspection proved that the Galatean radio was not working. The microsoldering on the power-board was shoddy, and a broken circuit blocked incoming transmissions. Perhaps the radio had been intended only to alert someone else that the job was done? Or had the rebels simply not bothered to test their equipment before setting out on their mission?

What was their mission? Why destroy a warehouse filled with highly flammable azelwax at the southeast corner of Regis? There was no military value in the oily wax, though it did burn brightly. The owners of the wax had no connection with the occupying forces, and so revenge or terrorism was an unlikely motive. Why, then? That question had brought a sleepless Nagumo to his office, had moved him to wake Dr. Vlade and the other members of his interrogation team so that they could begin getting the answers from the prisoner as quickly as possible.

His desktop communicator chirruped at him. When Nagumo touched the receiver switch, Vlade's features appeared on the screen. There were stray flecks of blood on the psychiatrist's face, and the sleeves of his white smock were heavily stained. The doctor, Nagumo decided, must have been personally involved in the interrogation.

"Well?"

"My Lord, it is as you thought. The subject was working under the direction of rebel forces based in the jungle. His orders came from a woman he knows only as 'Carlotta'."

"Where is this rebel base?"

"He didn't know. Lord."

"You're certain of that?"

"My Lord, the subject broke completely. He withheld nothing from us." Vlade's mouth worked in what could have been a smile. "What he did knowwas much more important, however. The fire was a diversion for a rebel attack. The attack was to take place tonight. Right now, in fact, shortly before 0200."

"Now?"

"He was certain of the time, my Lord. He was surprised that the rebel ‘Mechs had not already struck. The diversion was to be at 0100, the attack at 0145."

"Rebel ‘Mechs!"

"Yes, Lord. He did not know how many or where they were to strike. He knew only that a number of BattleMechs organized into a unit called the 'Free Verthandi Rangers' were to move into position while the warehouse fire distracted our units in Regis and momentarily blinded our IR-scanning satellites."

Nagumo's brows rose, questioning. "There's been no sign of enemy activity."

"Perhaps the rebels called off the attack, but the people charged with setting the fire didn't get the word."

"Possibly," Nagumo said. "The broken radio might indicate that. Certainly, it means they couldn't warn their comrades that they'd been captured."

"There might have been other rebel agents watching."

"Yes." Nagumo stroked his graying mustache with one finger, pondering.

"One thing more, my Lord. There was a code phrase he was to transmit once the job was done.”

“What was it?"

"The words 'false dawn'. He named a microwave frequency. Obviously, they were unable to transmit."

Nagumo nodded, his eyes cold. "Well done, Doctor. Finish up there and go back to bed."

Vlade bowed. "Thank you, my Lord." The Governor General broke the connection.

An attack called off or mis-timed by faulty communications? The possibility was intriguing. He opened another line on his communicator. "Get me the DWO."

Seconds later, a black-uniformed officer appeared on screen. "Duty Watch Officer, Major Ralston. Yes, my Lord General?"

"I have reason to believe that an enemy ‘Mech force is planning an assault on Regis tonight. They may already be moving into position. Double your perimeter security, and organize roving patrols to check out the Bluesward."

"Enemy ‘Mechs, my Lord? But...yes, my Lord. At once, sir!"

"Do we have recon satellite coverage of the Regis area tonight?"

"Partial coverage. Lord. The cloud cover is heavy, but intermittent."

"Pay particular attention to satellite reconnaissance data...everything in the general area of Regis within the past two hours. Burn a satellite to bring it in on a quicker pass if you have to, but get it done. It could be that the warehouse fire in Regis was set partly to dazzle our recon sats' infra-red imaging. I'd like to know what it is they don't want us to see."

"At once. Lord General!"

Moments later, Nagumo heard the distance-muted rasp of an alarm sounding through the building as the Draconis forces were put on yellow alert. Smiling to himself, he sat down in his chair, put his booted feet up on his desk, and waited.