Текст книги "Mercenary's Star"

Автор книги: Уильям Кейт

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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

The Kurita ‘Mechs and the Regis Blues never entered the jungle anymore. To do so invited attack and annihilation.

Within a few weeks, the Kurita presence on Verthandi had dwindled to Regis itself, a handful of mines in the southern desert, and a scattering of fire bases and supply depots guarding the principal government routes of supply and communication. What was left of the 44th Line and the Light Recon regiments remained within Regis itself, while the others were deployed in garrisons at the mines and elsewhere. At any given time, a quarter of the Kurita ‘Mechs were down and under maintenance, their pilots on leave at the base on Verthandi-Alpha. For the first time in nearly a decade, most of the countryside and smaller towns were not under the shadow of the Kurita ‘Mechs.

Nagumo dared not risk a major confrontation with the rebels, not with their numbers growing explosively every day, with rebel attacks growing fiercer and more daring with each incident. In one day alone, eight Verthandian astechs, five Regis Blues, and three

Kurita soldiers had vanished in downtown Regis in broad daylight. Their heads appeared later, artfully arranged on the steps of the University, and no one would admit having seen who'd left them.

Nagumo may have won a victory at the walls of the University, but he was beginning to feel like a man with a noose around his neck. There were no more riots in the streets, but the air was charged as if by an approaching storm.

In the countryside, Grayson and the Gray Death continued to work informally with rebel bands, taking the best recruits and training them in anti-Mech commando tactics, then taking the best of those and training them to operate the growing army of captured Verthandian ‘Mechs. By this time, most of the old AgroMechs had either been destroyed in battle or been cannibalized for parts, but more than enough Kurita ‘Mechs had been captured to replace them. The ranks of the Free Verthandi Rangers' conventional infantry had swelled so much and so fast that Grayson's most urgent problem was providing food, shelter, and weapons for the mob of new recruits. Raids were mounted week by week, then day by day, to secure the food, ammunition, shelter kits, medical supplies, weapons, and clothing for an army that numbered now in the tens of thousands.

Very quickly, Grayson found that he could not begin to cope with the logistical nightmare by himself. He reorganized the army under local commanders, men and women who had already learned what the Gray Death had to teach and who had proven themselves in combat against the enemy. These commanders took their own units, organized as short battalions, to hiding places throughout the Silvan Forest, while friendly plantation owners and farmers diverted most of the food tagged for delivery to Regis to the rebel camps. When questioned by the Regis Blues, the standing answer was "The rebels took it! I had no choice!"

In the end, Nagumo had over a hundred BattleMechs and elements of eight separate infantry regiments tied to a score of towns, villages, cities, mines, and transport sites, while the rebels held near-absolute control over every other habitable part of the planet. The Governor General could not allow this state of affairs to continue much longer. Not if he wished to keep his head when the Red Duke returned.

As the rebel raids continued, it became painfully clear to him that the rebels were drawing their supplies from one source only: the supply dumps established by Nagumo's own troops. Such depots were necessary if Nagumo's forces were to operate with any kind of freedom outside the walls of Regis, but they invited attack and were difficult to defend. After all, there were so many sites to protect, and only so many operational ‘Mechs at any given time...

With that realization, Nagumo's eyes had widened, and his fist had come down on the palm of his other hand with a smack. The mercenaries were the key to the rebels' success. They always had been. Perhaps it was not too late to destroy the rebels by striking down those mercs. And if he could capture Grayson Carlyle himself...

Nagumo was sure he had the answer now, and those supply dumps were going to be the key.

33

 

Seven BattleMechs worked their way through the light woods. No longer did any practical distinction exist between mercenary or Free Verthandian unit. When Grayson gave the commands, the other six ‘Mechs spread out in a line behind the low ridge above the Kurita supply depot.

As he called off the names, each responded in turn. McCall in his battered Riflemanand Clay in his Wolverinewere the only other representatives of the Gray Death present in the column. The others were lighter BattleMechs of the Free Verthandi Rangers: Vikki Traxen's Locust,Collin Dace's Phoenix Hawk,Olin Sonovarro's Wasp,and Nadine Cheka's Stinger.An eighth member of the raiding party, Lori Kalmar, had been posted in her Locuston a hill three kilometers back. Once the supply dump was secured, she would lead in the main body of the rebel hover transports to fill up on needed provisions and ammo.

"Move to your assault positions," Grayson said over the combat frequency. "And stand by. Transmit when you're in position."

Grayson fingered the controls on his cockpit vision devices, enlarging the image displayed on his main screen. The dump was peaceful enough, a typical collection of drab, military-style quonset huts and stack upon stack of crates, tanks, and boxes. There was a light fence around the perimeter of the base, and Grayson could see sentries—conventional infantry—pacing just outside. In the distance was the village of Blackjack, partly hidden by the trees. A farmer from Blackjack had arrived at the main rebel camp in the Silvan forest only a week before with word that this Kurita supply dump was being constructed.

He smiled to himself. More and more of the native Verthandians had been making contact with rebel forces across the planet's northern hemisphere, asking to join the Free Verthandian Legion, offering weapons, help, or shelter, offering information about Kurita movements, garrisons, and plans. Janice had been instrumental in that.

His smile grew wider. He liked Janice. It was fun to be with her and fun to talk to her. Their late-night walks had become less frequent in recent weeks, though, because she had joined the Free Verthandian Legion and begun training under Ramage's battery of instructors.

Grayson wished that Lori understood. He'd seen little of her since that evening at the Li Plantation. The memory was still painful. Why, though, did he feel guilty when she had made it so abundantly clear that a relationship with him was no longer of interest? Besides, the most important aspect of his relationship with Janice had nothing to do with evening walks or tender kisses among Verthandi's jungles. Janice was proving to be a treasure trove of information about Verthandian beliefs, attitudes, hopes, and passions. This was especially crucial now that Verthandians in the villages and towns and even those living in the shadow of the towers of Regis University had left the middle ground and become solid supporters of the rebellion. More and more Blues were deserting, and Nagumo's officers found fewer and fewer Loyalist families to give them information on rebel activities or positions.

Urgent voices suddenly interrupted Grayson's thoughts.

"Davis, in position."

"Sonovarro, ready."

"McCall, aye."

The others checked in quickly, one after another.

"Right," Grayson said. "Ladies and gentlemen, our supply officer is waiting."

The rebels had come to refer to Nagumo almost affectionately as their supply officer, but for several weeks now, supply dumps and depots had dried up. It was almost as though Nagumo had finally realized that his equipment and stores were subsidizing the rebel army. This new depot was going to be a big help to the rebels.

He gave the area one last long, hard look. There was no sign of enemy forces, of ‘Mechs or gun emplacements or troops. When he'd first heard about this single supply base, far out in the central expanse of the Southern Highlands, hundreds of kilometers from Regis or the

Silvan Basin, it had made him suspicious of a trap. He was still uneasy.

Why had Nagumo put the dump here? There were no mines close enough to draw on the supplies, no airfields or spaceports, no BattleMech maintenance centers or any other thing of enough value to warrant a BattleMech guard. Grayson had nearly decided to leave it alone. What with three more rebel MechWarriors ready to be assigned machines, and those machines needing long– and short-ranged missiles, autocannon rounds, 15 mm machinegun ammo, tanks of coolant fluid, he had little choice. This base would have those supplies. He could see the coolant fluid tanks from where his Shadow Hawkcrouched under the shadow of the trees along the ridge, and the ammunition he needed was stocked at every base catering to BattleMechs.

No, this base was too important to pass up. The farmer had reported only two BattleMechs in the area, a pair of battle-gouged Centurion's,and those were often out on patrol. There was no sign of them now. In fact, it looked too peaceful, too easy.

"Wha' d'ye see. Captain?" McCall asked over the private circuit.

"Not a bloody thing."

"And tha's worryin' ye." McCall knew Grayson well enough now to read his moods.

"It is. What's a base like that doing way out here, anyway?"

Clay had been listening in. "We may learn that when we take it. Captain. They may be planning something in these parts, where they think we don't patrol."

"Possibly." It was so quiet. He changed frequencies. "Lori?"

"Here, Captain."

"Your people all set?"

"We're set, Captain. Just give the word."

"I want to make this a fast one, in and get-the-hell out fast. To coin a cliche, it's too quiet, and I don't like it one bit."

"We'll be there the moment you say, Captain." There was a pause. "AndGray..."

"Yes?"

"Be careful." What did he hear in her voice? Regret, perhaps? He wished he could talk to her, but there was no time. They had to move now.Time enough for talk later, when they were safely back in camp.

"Always am, Lori. You know me. Keep your circuit open. I'll be calling."

He gave the order, and the ‘Mechs moved forward.

The sentries at the supply dump fence saw the rebel ‘Mechs as soon as they appeared above the crest of the ridge. There were scattered shots, and a machine gun began hammering from the cover of a low pile of sandbags and dirt off to the right. Grayson could see men scattering off into the woods and brush that surrounded the base.

"McCall!"

"Aye, Cap'n."

"Mount guard here and give us cover." The Riflemanhad the heaviest firepower of the raiding party. "The rest of you, hit the fence."

Traxen's Locustreached the perimeter fence first, crumpling the wire mesh flat with one huge metal foot. As the other ‘Mechs rushed through onto the poured ferrocrete slab, the hammering machine gun abruptly went silent.

The base was deserted, its workers and astechs fled into the brush. Much of the land in this part of the Southern Highlands was swampy, fed by the broad and sluggish Vorma River to the north. Grayson wondered how many of the Loyalists would die in those swamps. Except for that, it looked as though this raid would be remarkably bloodless.

"Lori!"

"Here, Captain."

"We're secure here...but I don't like it." Considering it was the only Kurita supply dump they'd round anywhere outside of Regis itself for weeks, the place was too lightly guarded. "Get your boys and girls in here, but don't plan on staying long."

He eyed the horizon. How long would it take a force of Kurita ‘Mechs to arrive from the nearest government outpost? He knew there were no ‘Mechs in the village of Blackjack itself. Rebel scouts had been watching it ever since they'd learned of the supply dump's existence. Indeed, there was no armor in the area except for a pair of Centurions,and even those weren't in evidence today. If there were ‘Mechs at Tyssedal, 50 kilometers to the northeast, they would need at least forty minutes to reach Blackjack, even if they had a strike force ready to go on an instant's notice.

Where were those Centurions?On patrol, evidently...but patrolling what?

Clay's Wolverineand the rebel ‘Mechs with hands began moving among the piles of supplies, stacking up what could be easily loaded and carried away aboard the hover transports. Whatever they could not carry, they would destroy.

Grayson's external pick-ups shrilled with the whistle of an incoming missile. It landed close beside Dace's Phoenix Hawk,smashing a wooden crate in a whirl of splinters. Grayson checked his Hawk'sinstrumentation almost before realizing they were under attack. The sonic scanners traced the incoming LRM from the south, but his Magnetic Anomaly Detector showed distinct traces of movement to both the east and the north.

The Phoenix Hawkdropped the heavy canister of coolant fluid it was carrying and brought its heavy laser up to the ready. Traxen lowered her Locustinto a deadly crouch, the barrel of her laser protruding from beneath her ‘Mech's cockpit like the snout of a cornered animal.

"Heads up!" Grayson barked. "MAD traces north and east! Make that north, east, and south! We've got company, and lots of it!"

The first Kurita Archerbroke through the underbrush three hundred meters from the eastern edge of the base perimeter. A second followed close behind. Grayson's MAD readouts were giving fragmented warnings now, so rapidly were they picking up approaching masses of fusion-driven armor.

An Archerweighed 70 tons, ten tons more than the heaviest of Grayson's ‘Mechs. It mounted 20 long-range missile tubes in each of two enormous launcher packs set over its shoulders, and carried a medium laser in each arm as well. Two more lasers were set into its torso, directed toward the heavy ‘Mech's rear to protect it from attacks from behind. The Archerwas an old BattleMech design, but it was a highly respected one, valued for its ability to lay down sustained, long-range bombardments.

Grayson counted four Archer'sin sight so far, two to the east, one in the north, one in the southeast. Those monsters could pound his tiny raiding party into fragments before any rebel ‘Mechs could get close enough to be certain of scoring a hit.

Grayson thought fast It was obvious now that the supply dump had been bait for a trap. The arming of the trap was less obvious. His guess was that the Kurita ‘Mechs had been carefully hidden in the woods and swamps around the Blackjack site beforethe establishment of the supply dump, so that they would go unnoticed by rebel scouts. He punched up a computer map projection on his main console screen. Data was spotty for this area, but he could see large patches of swamp in every direction. Those Archer'smay even have been submerged in the swamps, with nothing showing but their flat heads and missile bins. Rotating crews out of the supply base or from Blackjack could have kept them constantly manned and ready, certain that the rebels would attack this base sooner or later. It was a neat trap, and it showed every sign of working perfectly.

Grayson's mind raced. His force of light and medium ‘Mechs would not last long in a slugging match with Archers.He directed his ‘Mech's computer to overlay the map with MAD readings and the four Archersthat were already in sight. The display showed a ragged ring of amber lights three-quarters of the way around the cluster of lights marking his own command. There was an empty space to the west, but the ridge they'd been hiding behind was in that direction and could well be shielding the approach of enemy ‘Mechs. He and his men were being herded toward the west. Missiles were flashing and banging throughout the supply dump now, but so far with little effect The only option other than staying put was to fight off the closing of the ring. If he ordered his raiders to scatter toward the west, they might escape the Archers'inexorable advance.

If this was a trap, the trappers would have foreseen that move. Grayson's mind flashed across the various intelligence reports he'd read, the statements taken from enemy prisoners and Verthandians who had deserted the Regis Blues to join the rebels. There weren't that many Archerson Verthandi. He knew of one company-Company A of the 3rd Strike Regiment—that had four of them. Four Archerswere what he could see right now.

Company A, First Battalion of the 3rd regiment was a typical mix of light and heavy ‘Mechs. Grayson put himself in the enemy commander's boots. If he were laying a trap like this, he would hold his heavy machines somewhere where they wouldn't be seen right away, then make noise everywhere else to drive the prey into the waiting heavies' grasp.

The ridge. Those Archerswere herding his raiders toward the ridge. The enemy heavies must have moved up behind it while the rebels were advancing into the supply dump. They'd be waiting there now for the rebel machines to come up the exposed eastern face of the ridge.

"All units!" he shouted. "Move south! Stay tight, and watch your flanks!"

Dace protested. "I'm getting heavy MAD readings that way. Captain! It's clear to the west!"

"Yeah...that's what they want us to think! Now... move!"He switched frequencies. "Lori! Are you there?"

"We're here. What's the matter?"

"It's a trap... an ambush. We're breaking out. Tell the hovercraft to scatter...and you take off with them. We'll rendezvous at Point Delta!"

"Can I..."

"You can't! We're facing heavies! Run for it, now!" The thought of Lori's 20-ton Locustfacing Archersor the other heavies of the 3rd was chilling.

Grayson, Clay, and McCall formed their three ‘Mechs into a wedge with Grayson's Shadow Hawkat the point, the Riflemanbehind and to his left, and the Wolverineon his right. The rebel ‘Mechs clustered behind the three Gray Death machines, moving south in a shambling run punctuated by the bursts and mushrooming pillars of smoke marking the fall of incoming missiles. Dace's Phoenix Hawktook an LRM hit in one arm, and Sonovarro's Waspwas limping. The wedge slowed to allow Sonovarro to keep up.

Something moved in the woods dead ahead. Grayson triggered a burst of autocannon fire, shredding trees and tearing up great clumps of ground vegetation. It was a Crusader,the same one they'd faced that day below the walls of the University. Grayson recognized the patches of new armor where his autocannon fire had hit the enemy machine in the earlier battle.

The Kurita ‘Mech blocked the way to the south.

"Keep moving!" Grayson shouted; The Crusadercould only stop one of them if they all kept moving. A quick glance at his scanner readouts showed that the Archersto the north and east had closed in and were at the supply dump now. There were MAD readings from the ridge to the west, too—big ones. Grayson's computer identified a Marauderand a Warhammerat the crest of the ridge.

He fired his laser, smashing and clawing at the Crusader'supper torso. McCall's Riflemanadded a hail of laser and autocannon fire to the volley. The Kurita ‘Mech staggered back a step under the assault, but recovered quickly. Short-range missiles cleaved the air, smashing into Grayson's ‘Mech with savage accuracy. Next, the enemy ‘Mech's arms came up, and laser bolts hammered into Clay's Wolverine.The rebel ‘Mechs behind them wavered, their pilots uncertain. Warning lights rippled across Grayson's instrument boards.

The Archerswere closing rapidly from behind, and it would be only moments before the failed ambush at the ridge would re-form and sweep down on the struggling rebel band. At the moment, though, the three Gray Death ‘Mechs outweighed the Crusaderwith a combined 170 tons against its 65. If they hesitated, they were all doomed. If they forged ahead...

"All units!" Grayson yelled. "Charge!"

Autocannon fire chopped and shredded at the Crusader'storso. Laser pulses flashed across the narrowing range and seemed to sink into thirsty metal. Grayson triggered a salvo of five LRMs and saw four of the five shriek into the heavy ‘Mech's midsection.

All seven rebel ‘Mechs were running at full speed now. McCall yelled something unintelligible, a Scots curse or battle yell, Grayson guessed. His own head sang with battle thrill, an exultation that overrode his fear in a blinding surge. He triggered his Hawk's jumpjets and vaulted the final 50 meters to the Crusader,landing with a momentum that hurtled him squarely into the Crusaderat full speed.

The roar of colliding tons of metal momentarily drowned out the crash of explosions. The Crusader,already off balance in the withering fire from its opponents, went over backward in an ungainly sprawl. Unable and unwilling to check his Shadow Hawk'scharge, Grayson went down on top of it in a tangle of metal limbs and weapons.

Grayson's Hawkwas on its feet first, but he was too close to use his own weapons effectively. Instead, he kicked savagely with his ‘Mech's right leg as the Crusaderstruggled to rise. The heavier ‘Mech fell back once more. Grayson had an instant's warning as he saw the SRM pack covers set into the Crusader's legs pop open. He twisted aside as twelve SRMs streaked into the sky, narrowly missing him. Missile reloads dropped home into the empty tubes, but Grayson was already bringing his hand down on his ‘Mech's jump jet controls. Backpack rockets fired, a throaty roar arrested almost before it had begun as Grayson chopped off the power as quickly as he'd cut it on. The Shadow Hawkrose three meters, seemed to stagger in mid-flight, then dropped from the sky, a 55-ton sledgehammer that caught the prostrate Crusadersquarely in its already gouged and cratered chest.

Coolant fluid exploded in mist and steam. Miniature lightnings arced and stabbed from shorted circuitry cables and power leads. Armor tore, peeling back like shredded metal foil as he extracted the Hawk'slegs from the ruin of the larger ‘Mech's torso.

The other rebel ‘Mechs arrived at that moment, still running. Grayson brought his ‘Mech's leg back a second time. "For Piter," he said, and the leg snapped forward. From the looks of the Crusader'sruined head, he had no doubt that the pilot was already dead

The rebel ‘Mechs were outside the closing ring of ambushers now, racing south. Grayson's move had caught the enemy by surprise, and they seemed to be in confusion. The jaws of the trap had snapped shut—on thin air.

Grayson rapidly gave his orders. There was only desert to the south, untold thousands of hectares of Verthandi's most inhospitable terrain. They would have to work their way to the west and then north to make it to the rendezvous. The enemy did not seem to be pursuing them. Perhaps they could cut through the woods behind the ridge above Blackjack. The Kurita forces would not expect them to cut so close to the site of the failed trap. If there were other enemy units in those woods and swamps, they would be looking farther afield.

Clay called Grayson's attention to a rising column of smoke well to the west of the supply dump's location. 'Trouble, Captain. That could be our hovercraft convoy."

Cold fear took Grayson's heart, replacing the exultation that had gripped him during the hand-to-hand fight with the Crusader. Lori!He urged his Hawkinto a lurching run, ignoring the heat overload lights already beginning to wink and flicker on his board.

Lori must have been trying to shield the hovercraft in her charge when the Kurita ‘Mechs had burst down on her out of the woods to the east. Grayson saw the flaming wrecks of a trio of hover transports scattered across the clearing, but no sign of the others. Perhaps they'd made good their escape.

Lori's LocustWas on a low knoll, crouched hull down, its laser spraying the woods eighty meters away. The Locustwas hideously damaged, the left leg smashed and twisted, the radio antennae reduced to tangled wiring and blackened scars in the cockpit armor. Four Kurita ‘Mechs advanced from the east, a Griffin ,a Stinger,a Phoenix Hawk,and a Wasp.Those four were the recon lance for the 3rd Strike Regiment's A Company. While swinging west from the failed ambush to try to block the raiding force's retreat to the north, they must have stumbled into Lori and the hovercraft convoy.

Grayson hit his autocannon controls once, then savagely hit them again. A red indicator glared back at him from his console with baleful urgency. The autocannon was jammed in its mount, possibly destroyed. Whether the damage was the result of enemy fire or his collision with the Crusader,he couldn't tell. The loading mechanism stubbornly refused to feed. He checked his LRM packs, then triggered the controls, which slammed in his last reload for the long-range tubes.

"Quick time!" He struggled to keep the desperation out of his voice. "McCall, Clay! Rush them!"

Lori's Locustwas still six hundred meters away and the Kurita ‘Mechs slightly further. Grayson felt as though he were trapped in the horror of a slow-motion dream. Step after lumbering step brought his Shadow Hawkno closer to the tableau of Lori's BattleMech, crippled and alone as she exchanged fire with the four Kurita ‘Mechs.

The 55-ton Griffinwas in a half-crouch, its right arm heavy PPC leveled at the light scout ‘Mech. Blue lightning blasted through the space between them, and Grayson saw fragmented control packs and the power leads to the Locust'smedium laser scatter in flaming wreckage across the knoll.

Five hundred meters.

He triggered a salvo of LRMs and watched the missiles arc into the enemy Griffin .The Griffintook no notice of this new attack, but continued firing bolt after searing bolt into Lori's ‘Mech. The Locustwas burning now, black, oily smoke coiling into a sky already darkened by the funeral pyres of the wrecked hover transports.

"Eject, Lori! Eject!" With her reception antennae shattered, he knew she wouldn't hear him, but Grayson found himself willing her to blast the escape hatch clear and to eject from the burning hulk. Perhaps it was already too late. Perhaps the ejection mechanism had fouled. Perhaps the Locust'spower was dead. Perhaps Lori was already dead...

Four hundred meters.

There was a flash, and metal panels hurtled away from the burning ‘Mech. Before the fragments hit the ground, another flash sent Lori's control chair rocketing into the sky on flaming thrusters.

Missiles arrowed through the trees, exploding in front of the charging rebel ‘Mechs. Grayson's ‘Mech stumbled as craters opened in the ground ahead. He checked the Shadow Hawk'scharge and turned to face a Kurita Maraudersmashing through the trees two hundred meters to his right An enemy Warhammerand a pair of Archer'snow stepped into the clearing between him and the battle around Lori's ‘Mech.

His last salvo of LRMs snapped into their tubes in the Hawk'sright torso. Ignoring heat overload warnings and the rattling impact of shrapnel against his ‘Mech, he brought the HUD crosshairs of his sights onto the enemy Marauderand triggered the missile controls. He had no doubt at all that he had the enemy Regimental commander in his sights. Missiles slammed into the Marauder.One struck the egg-shaped hull squarely where the cockpit screen mated to armor. The enemy ‘Mech froze in position. A hit! A hard one!

With rage, grief, and frustration boiling in him, Grayson started forward. A metal-armored hand on his Hawk'sarm stopped him. "This way. Captain," Clay said, without emotion. "We've got to retreat! There's nothing we can do for her now."

Through a haze of tears and anguish, Grayson could see brown and orange-clad foot soldiers closing on the spot where Lori's ejection seat had landed, not far from the shattered, blazing wreckage of her Locust.

The Riflemanstaggered under the impact of a pair of LRMs from one of the Archers.More enemy ‘Mechs were arriving, rushing past the immobile form of the Marauder.He'd crippled the leader, but the fact brought no relief or thrill of victory. Lori!

"Pull back." Grayson scarcely recognized his own voice. "Scatter to the west, and rendezvous."

But Clay and McCall stayed with him as they broke free of the ambush and made their way west and north. Behind them, the smoke from Lori's shattered machine continued to stain the sky.