Текст книги "Decision at Thunder Rift"
Автор книги: Уильям Кейт
Жанр:
Боевая фантастика
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Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 22 страниц)
All set. He pushed the con stick forward, urging the Shadow Hawkinto a lumbering trot toward the antenna.
When the missile caught his Hawksquarely in the back, it took Grayson completely by surprise.
32
Tor arrived hand-over-hand at the docking lock, where he took a holstered vibroblade from one of his men and tied it to his thigh while the soldier strapped the powerpack across his shoulders. The fourteen Lancers who had volunteered for this mission were already there, still dressed in their Royal Guards green and carrying everything from long, keen-edged boarding knives and vibroblades to laser rifles and tranq guns. Half the prisoners they'd found aboard the DropShip were there too, armed with improvised weapons and a savage determination. In the lock area's dim lighting, all their faces were pale as they clung to the lock's handholds in the dreamy weightlessness of zero-G.
Tor's eyes picked out General Varney. "Prisoners all secure, sir?"
Varney's eyes twinkled. "Secure, Captain. Aft hold, and chained to their seats. There was a bit of a problem with the ISF fellow, so I had to put him out. Again."
"Good." Tor caught his lip between his teeth. "But, General..."
"Don't say it son," Varney broke in, seeming to read Tor's mind. "You're in command here, but I AM going along." His knuckles worked along the haft of the heavy-bladed knife he held.
Tor paused, then nodded. If he'd learned one thing about the military, it was that you don't argue with generals. "Okay, men. Remember now, don't get trigger-happy. It may still be my crew running that ship under guard, or they may even have been enlisted by these bastards. God knows what they've been told, but we'll need them to crew the ship.
"Remember, too, that our acceleration isn't going to make any difference here. When you kick into the center of a room, it'll take you two minutes to fall to the deck. You throw a punch, and it'll throw you right back. Watch yourselves! Questions? No? All right, here goes!"
The outer airlock door slid open, and they found themselves looking through the open hatch of the Invidiousat a trio of armed, black-uniformed officers standing in the freighter's docking lock.
"Hey! What's all this?" shouted an infantry officer in a Captain's uniform. The next moment, he was hit by the hurtling body of one of the Lancers, and the two were scuffled in a pinwheel of arms and legs across the cargo lock and into a far bulkhead.
General Varney crowded in ahead of the rest. Slashing out and up with his boarding knife, he caught a Combine army lieutenant low in his gut, laying the man open in a weightless spray of blood.
Tor launched himself at the third Combine trooper, but the dying lieutenant spun into his path in a welter of blood and thrashing limbs. Tor caught a glimpse of the officer – a major, he thought – vanishing through the cargo lock hatch and into the passageway beyond. Damn!
"After him!" he called out. "Get him!"
The boarding party swam through the lock and spilled into the main passageway. Tor had to orient the men so that they were heading foreward in the direction of the bridge. The faint acceleration of the Invidious stationkeeping drive was just enough to create the impression that they were indeed swimming up through an endless tunnel. At its far end, Tor caught a flicker of movement.
"Sergeant Yee! Pick him off with your laser!"
The trooper triggered his weapon, the beam faintly visible as a red thread flickering up the corridor, but the major slipped through a hatch an instant before the shot fired. Damn again! Tor thought, as the boarding party continued up the passageway. The alert would certainly go out now. From here on, it was all going to be up to Grayson and his Lancers on Trellwan.
* * * *
The explosion at his back knocked Grayson's Shadow Hawkto its hands and knees. He hung against the cockpit seat's straps, stabbing wildly at control switches beneath bank upon bank of suddenly flashing indicator lights. Damage did not seem severe, but it looked like the jump jets in the Hawk'smassive backpack had been put out of action. He was also getting ominous readings from the backpack environmental support system.
Grayson hauled back on the controls, and let his natural sense of balance guide the computer-controlled gyro and balance systems. Pulling itself up, the Hawkstood and turned to face its attacker.
A Crusaderin red and black livery stood there at a range of 220 meters. Grayson knew that color pattern. He'd seen it before, on a computer data listing. The Crusaderwas Lord Harimandir Singh's 'Mech.
A console data display gave a rundown of the Crusader'sstats. The massively armed and armored beast weighed 65 tons, its design sacrificing speed and maneuverability for weaponry. Grayson scanned the list of weapons: medium lasers, machine guns, and LRM launchers in each arm, and SRM launchers set into the armor plate of each leg. The machine's forearms were grotesquely swollen to accommodate the strap-on packs of weaponry. It raised both arms, and strode toward Grayson like a nightmarish sleepwalker.
Adrenalin sang in Grayson's blood. He dropped the autocannon across his left shoulder, and triggered a long, rolling burst of hellfire, then snapped the Hawk'sright arm up to discharge three lightning-quick bolts of coherent light. Flame and minor debris splattered from the Crusader'shead and shoulders. A row of craters stitched across its chest, rupturing armor plate and leaving a ragged scar along one shoulder.
Grayson was moving before he could register the extent of damage. As he plunged clumsily across the ferrocrete in a bone-jarring shoulder roll, more laser fire and missiles screamed through the air where the Hawkhad been standing an instant before. Grayson brought his machine to its feet with a salvo of SRM fire that rang and echoed in the confines of his cockpit as the head-mounted tubes loosed their fury in smoke and noise. Wires and charred metal dangled from a tear in the Crusader'supper left arm, and an oil leak in its lower torso gave the curiuous impression of thick, black blood running down the scarred armor.
Tubes mounted along the Crusader'ships belched fire. At this range, Grayson did not have time to react before a pair of SRMs slammed into the Hawk'storso. The ear protectors in his helmet saved him from the worst of the noise, but the shriek of tearing metal and high explosives hit Grayson's head with as much force as the shock of the blast itself.
He knew that maneuverability was his single advantage over the Crusader,and he had to use it. Charging the Crusaderat top speed, the Shadow Hawkangled across the enemy 'Mech's line of fire to work his way around to the side. The Crusaderpivoted on its left leg, tracking him with its right arm laser.
Grayson took the laser bolt high on the Hawk'sright arm, at the pauldron shield. Planting the 'Mech's left foot solidly, he whirled to the right. The Shadow Hawk'sleft arm smashed with staggering impact into the Crusader'sright shoulder from behind, sending the heavier 'Mech spinning forward in a wild effort to regain its balance. Now Grayson had the Hawk'slaser up and tracking. He fired two bolts into the Crusader'sback and side as it fell, then followed with a salvo of SRMs that struck home in a tight cluster of high-explosive mayhem.
Grayson checked the screen showing elapsed time. Fifty-five hours, thirty-three minutes. If the Invidious'stationkeeping crew had managed to get a message out, it would arrive in two more minutes. He had to destroy that antenna first
Stepping past the Crusader,he broke into a lumbering run. Singh's machine – if that was Singh – appeared damaged, but was certainly not destroyed. It was possible that the pilot had been stunned by the missile salvo, or possibly by the fall itself. Grayson thought he would have time to destroy the tower, then return for a final showdown.
From 50 meters, he launched a salvo of SRMs at the base of the antenna, then turned his laser on the struts and cables running through the mast. Metal flared and vaporized, and cables split in flashes of blue-white fire. He had probably crippled the antenna, but had to make sure. Directing his arm up to where the mast joined with the wire mesh dish, he carefully aligned the autocannon with his HUD targeting graphics. When Grayson stabbed the firing switch, the autocannon bucked and roared across the Hawk'sshoulder, deafening him with an ocean of roaring sound and vibration. Eighty-millimeter high-explosive shells shredded the dish, smashed into the mast with devastating fury. Fragments of struts and cross-braces and high-tech electronic circuitry hurtled through the air, raining a spray of debris across the field. The dish sagged, then flew apart in twisted chunks and flame. The mast itself staggered like a wounded being, then folded upon itself and collapsed in a tangled ruin.
Grayson let out a long, whistling deep breath. He was sure now that the antenna would never relay another message.
His next target was the spaceport control tower, which housed com units that could handle long-range, omni-directional transmissions, and could fill the communications gap with the jump point until a new directional dish could be rigged. As the tower offered an exceptional view of the entire spaceport and the approaches to Thunder Rift, it was entirely possible the enemy was coordinating its tactics from there. It had been badly shot up during Lori's raid two days ago. Though sheets of light wood were patched over holes in the windows, Grayson could see movement there. The tower was manned and operational.
Bringing it into his HUD display, he checked the range: 841 meters. That was too far for accurate fire against another BattleMech, but the tower was a considerably larger target than the largest 'Mech. Grayson triggered his autocannon, and sent a stream of high-explosive shells hosing toward the brick and glass target.
Through telephoto imaging, he saw its walls burst outward, changing concrete block and bricks into hurtling gravel. At the same time, 80 mm shells punched hole after hole through glass, plastic, wood, and light metal, which exploded in a roar of smoke, fragments, and licking flames.
Now for the damaged Crusader. Grayson swung the Shadow Hawkabout and took eight-meter strides back toward where he'd left Singh's 'Mech. Blood roared in his ears. It would be good taking that machine apart He would be avenged finally as he watched Singh die.
But the Crusaderwas no longer there. Whether Singh had recovered and moved the 'Mech under its own power, or whether another 'Mech had arrived to help, Grayson couldn't tell. He scanned the area quickly, but though the smoke was rapidly clearing, he saw no sign of another BattleMech. Perhaps one of those storage sheds ahead...
Something – some movement or noise or sixth sense – dragged Grayson's attention down to a console screen showing the view aft. The smoke showed heavier there where it was drifting down on a northerly breeze from the direction of the wrecked and burning control tower.
A shadow moved through the smoke. A large and deadly shadow, with an unforgettably familiar shape.
Grayson spun the Hawkabout, bringing the laser arm up to the point. The smoke eddied for a moment, then tattered away in the wind, revealing the monstrous Marauderstriding toward Grayson's machine.
Squat and ugly, its crab's body on back-canted legs, there was no mistaking that 'Mech design. Especially with its rapid-fire cannon levelled across massive dorsal armor.
It was a Marauder– the same Marauderthat had destroyed Durant Carlyle's Phoenix Hawk.The Marauderthat had killed his father.
33
A long, ragged line of six heavy 'Mechs charged up the ravine. Lori shouted the first warning, and then the hull-down Locust, Wasp,and Stingerjoined their firepower to that of the grounded weapons carriers sweeping the slope below them with a withering fire.
Lori's laser caught a Griffin squarely in its head, and other fire smashed the LRM launcher mounted over its right shoulder, leaving the heavy barrel wrenched backward on its mounting to point uselessly at the sky. But the killer machine kept coming, loosing shattering bolts from its charged particle cannon. Next to the Griffin ,a 45-ton Phoenix Hawkstaggered under the combined fire from three HVWC-mounted LRM launchers. Suddenly, its right leg gave way, and the 'Mech stumbled and collapsed.
Lying prone, Enzelman was firing his Wasp'slaser as quickly as he could. Though he could not bring the SRM launchers in the 'Mech's leg to bear because of his position, he had the laser propped like an out-sized rifle across a boulder, and was squeezing off shots with telling accuracy. Yarin, in the Stingeron Lori's left, was wilder and less accurate, but he had scored at least three hits on a Wolverine,which was now seeking cover at the edge of the ravine, and two on a second Phoenix Hawk,which was now having trouble bringing its right arm weapons to bear.
"Sergeant Kalmar! This is Ramage!”
“Yeah!"
"They have flankers out, coming up on the left!"
Lori checked that side, and saw the line of tracked crawlers making its way along a ridge east of the ravine. The ridge gave out before it reached the Rift, she knew, but those vehicles carried artillery that would destroy her three
'Mechs if they got into position squarely on her flank. Firing down from that ridge, the crawlers would have no trouble picking off the 'Mechs behind their sheltering boulders.
"Pin 'em down until we can shake these people!"
"You got it, Sarge!" Two hovercraft roared into life, skittering back to the left on whirling clouds of dust. The curving contrails of an LRM salvo reached for the enemy crawlers, and return fire sizzled in among the 'Mechs amidst gouts of flame and dirt.
Two of the six enemy 'Mechs were down – a Phoenix Hawkand a Rifleman– damaged but not destroyed. The remaining four had halted, seeming to hesitate between continuing the advance and falling back. The second Phoenix ,already damaged in its right arm, strode rapidly toward Lori's hiding place, laser fire from its left arm smashing at the boulder and the ground around her.
She took a hit high on the Locust'storso, then another. When Lori triggered a shot in reply, the bolt washed white fire across the Phoenix Hawk'shead. One of the hovercraft to her left drifted sideways, seeking a better line of fire. Its charged particle cannon flashed once, and the Phoenix Hawk'salready damaged head exploded in fire and shattered metal. Unmoving, the Hawkstood there, a gaping crater where its head and pilot had been seconds before. Then, with smoke trailing from its deadly damage, the dead 'Mech toppled forward, and landed with a deafening crash.
The hovercraft's movement had given the Wolverinea clear line-of-fire. When a pair of SRMs hit it from the left, the HVWC vanished in white light and a hammerblow shock that smashed at Lori's crouching Locust.After the shower of dirt and debris cleared, nothing remained of the weapons carrier but a smoking hole and minute fragments of hot steel.
With the Phoenix Hawk'sdestruction, the remaining 'Mechs began pulling back. The Griffin and the Wolverineeach took one of the leg-damaged Phoenix Hawk'sarms and dragged it down the ravine. The Riflemanlimped down the hill on its own, trailing a tangle of disemboweled wiring and puddles of lubricants that steamed in the cold air.
"O.K., they're pulling out," Lori snapped. '‘Mechs, fall back to the next line. Ground troops... cover us... and watch those flankers."
Missiles firing blindly from extreme range landed among the retreating 'Mechs, but did no damage. The next line was at the very crest of the ridge, where cliff walls knifed skyward to an overhanging glacier. The Rift itself was a hundred-meter black slash in the mountain face behind them. The raw, majestic thunder of its waterfall sent tremors through the hulls of the 'Mechs as they cleared the rise. Verbal communication would be difficult here, and sound sensors useless.
The Lancers had dug earthworks along the ridge in the two days since the DropShip had launched. Each vehicle was positioned to give it a long, clear line-of-sight down into the ravine. Lori caught herself wishing for more explosives so that they could set off another mine blast or another Lance of 'Mechs – heavies this time.
With four Marauders,she could hold this hill against a BattleMech army. Watching as her hovercraft completed their withdrawal to the mouth of the Rift, she shook her head. Ammo would soon be very low, and the cabin temps of all three 'Mechs were above forty degrees. The plan had been designed to take advantage of the lake at their backs, which provided a means to cool down their 'Mechs while the attackers were forced to struggle up the hill with their internal temps rising. Beside the availability of the lake, the other advantage of the Lancers' position was the wet, cool breeze blowing steadily from the Rift mouth. As heat build-up would now be less of a problem for them than for their pursuers, Grayson had thought it might give them one slender advantage. And they certainly needed every advantage they could get now.
For several moments, it was quiet – suspiciously so. Lori watched her screens closely, alert for any movement or heat or radar image, for any sign of the approaching enemy. She wished she could hear as well, but Thunder Rift drowned out all but voices transmitted directly to her ear. Then her radar indicator flashed. Helicopter! There!
The aircraft was a large, heavy-duty transport, and was descending behind the scattered boulders beyond the bottom of the ravine. That would be reinforcements, most likely, more troops certainly, and possibly another 'Mech or two from the Castle. Lori waited with mounting dread. The attack was just beginning, she knew. That first rush had been little more than a skirmish compared with what was to come.
"Sergeant? This is Ramage, private line."
She opened a private channel. "What is it?"
"Sergeant, I just wanted to say that was a beautiful piece of work down there. It's... well, I never thought a woman could handle a 'Mech like that. Two targets down in as many minutes. That was some shooting!" '
She smiled. "Let's save the congratulations for when we get out of this, O.K.?"
Just as Lori was wondering what was happening to Grayson, an explosion echoed through the cave, drowning the thunder. It was followed by another... and another. Missiles arced high up from the ravine, then came down in shattering blasts among the rocks and ice at the Rift's mouth.
The enemy 'Mechs were visible now. The four they'd seen before plus three more. These were a Stinger,a Shadow Hawk– for one heart-leaping instant, Lori thought it was Grayson come up the hill to their rescue – and the lead 'Mech, a Marauderpainted red with black legs and trim. That one must have come in by helicopter, Lori thought, remembering well Grayson's description of it. So... Duke Ricol was here in person!
There was infantry with the group too. Crawlers chewed through dust and gravel down the ridge and into the ravine, swinging north to bring the Rift's defenders into their sight.
"Fire!" Lori shouted, but the command was lost in the first volleys of laser and missile fire. Her own laser snapped off four shots, and three of them scored on the already-damaged Griffin ,shredding armor, opening new wounds in the huge machine's arms and torso. The Duke's men were not using the scattered boulders for cover this time, but were running uphill at top speed, hoping, she realized, to overrun the Lancers' position before they took unacceptable losses.
"They're trying to swamp us!" she said. "Pour it on!"
The Griffin stumbled and fell, whether destroyed or damaged badly, she could not tell. Switching her sights to the Marauderadvancing ponderously in the vanguard, Lori watched in horror as the 'Mech's head and torso absorbed bolt after bolt, seemingly without effect.
Then she realized that the Stinger– far faster and more agile than the Marauder– was closer, was almost on top of her position. She swung her laser up and caught the 20-ton 'Mech in the leg. Then her own 'Mech reeled as the particle cannon mounted in the Marauder'sforearms loosed thunder and red blackness at the cockpit of her Locust,smashing Lori to one side in her seat and tilting the 'Mech over to its port side.
When her vision cleared, she struggled to right her machine, gasping at the sudden, stabbing pain in her side.
The Stingerwas close now, too close, its laser leveled on her Locustas it pulled its metal feet under its torso and started to rise. A laser bolt from Garik's Waspcaught the Stingeron the side, spinning it around and smashing it into a house-sized rock. When Lori fired her own laser, the Stingerstopped moving, disabled at the very least
But the Marauderwas closer now, its twin cannons of high-energy death scything through the men who crouched behind the shallow earthworks while the giant machines battled above them. Lori fired again, and struck the Marauder'shead full on, without visible effect. Its 75 tons of metal death strode closer, cannons descending for a final shot. There was one long, horrible pause as the enemy's PPCs recharged.
Then an explosion caught the Marauderabove its cockpit, followed by another and another. Dazed, Lori shook her head, struggling to clear it. The Wasp,Garik Enzelman's machine, stepped between her and the onrushing monster. Lori understood. The Waspcould not fire its missile packs while it was lying down. Garik had stood and loosed a salvo at the Marauder,was now trying to dodge behind the slower machine to strike it from behind.
A lightning bolt of charged particles carved through the air, smashing the Wasp'sright arm and chest. Badly hit, the Waspstaggered among the smoke and hurtling fragments. A second bolt caught the light machine full across its head. Lori heard Garik's scream through the radio, saw shattered plastic and metal exploding outward in a whirling dance of death. The blast picked the light 'Mech off its feet and smashed it down among the rocks.
"Ramage!" she yelled on the com frequency, her voice raw and burning. "They're breaking through! Garik's gone!"
Three hovercraft skimmed low across the ground behind the Marauderas Lori snapped shot after shot at the giant 'Mech's head. This was Grayson's skill and training put to its ultimate test. Missiles slammed into the Marauder'sback as the trio of hovercraft howled into a tight, high-speed turn at ten meters' range.
Turning clumsily, the Marauderfired its autocannon, which yammered through the cave above the whine of hovercraft, the crash of explosions, and the insistent drumming of the waterfall. One of the hovercraft staggered in mid-flight, swayed sharply to the right, and smashed into the base of the cliff, vanishing in flame.
The Locustwas on its feet, pumping laser bolts into the Marauder'sflank and back from 50 meters. Lori's fist cramped over the trigger as she jerked it again and again and again...Then the Marauderwas withdrawing. It staggered back down the ridge, followed by the other five 'Mechs that were still standing. "Why?" Ramage questioned over the combat frequency. Lori could pick him out as he crouched at the stern of the well deck of his hovercraft, microphone in his hand. "They had us cold. Why'd they retreat?"
Lori sagged back against the seat. Sweat drenched her face, chest, and shoulders, and the air inside the cabin seared hot in her lungs as she breathed. She twisted about and yanked the handle that opened the after-cabin hatch, reveling in the ghost of cold air she could feel at the opening.
"Temperature, I think."
"What was that?"
"My 'Mech is so hot, it's on the verge of powering down. They must have the same problem. I think they pulled back to cool off." She pivoted the Locust,studying the cool, black water at their backs. The water foamed and roiled farther down the Rift, but there were only gentle ripples here by the shore.
"And that's not such a bad idea. Yarin, haul yourself into the lake and cool down. I'll mount guard until you come out. Ramage, you round up some people and check out that Stingerwe knocked out. See if it can be enlisted.
"Right, Sarge."
But instead of moving out onto the slope where she could see the ravine, Lori parked the Locustabove the sprawled wreckage of Enzelman's Wasp.A pair of soldiers had already levered open the 'Mech's cockpit and were removing Garik's shattered body. She was shocked by the amount of blood in that cockpit.
Garik was the last of those who had come with her from home. He'd been more, too. He'd been a companion and a friend when she'd needed one, and they'd been lovers – or, at least, they'd shared a bed. Lori felt more alone now than at any time since coming to this bitter world.
The time readout showed that half an hour had passed since the beginning of the battle. Where was Grayson? If everything had gone according to plan, he should be here now, and their little band slipping back through the cold waters of the lake toward the ocean in the north. If Garik had lived, he'd have been coming with them.
Something must have gone wrong. If Grayson wasn't here, he must be lying dead inside his shattered BattleMech on the ferrocrete apron of the spaceport. And the rest of them would die, too, when the Duke's 'Mech forces cooled enough to charge again.
Lori pondered for a moment whether they should retreat now, while they had a chance. Mopping the sweat off her face, she knew they had to wait for Grayson against all odds. She had promised. Surely, though, he should be here by now. She glanced again at the time readout. If they could only hold out another fifteen minutes...
