“Excuse me,” he said as a woman holding stacks of folders walked past. “I need to get in here, could you open this?”
She blinked at him. “Why?”
Rieter took a breath. “I need to speak to Colonel Hawke, it’s urgent, and he’s through here.” Without saying another word, she held up a badge and opened the door. Reiter stepped through and found Hawke after a moment.
He’d commandeered an entire conference room. On a monitor dominating the main wall, their situation map was on full display. Hawke unfurled multiple Maps to put together the surrounding area and was placing markers when Rieter walked in.
“Need a hand, sir?” he asked.
Hawke looked up with a smile. “Captain Rieter, just the man I was about to send for,” he said. “Yes, I’d love a hand.” As he set to helping his commander, he noticed the woman from earlier mean-mugging him through the glass before carrying on.
“What’s the deal with the people here?” Rieter asked. “The civilians outside loved us coming in here.”
Hawke sighed as he placed more map markers. “As you know, we can’t demand a private business or residence quarter us, Constitution and all, that being said, this is the office for Vaterland Department of the Interior, so the Province can order them to house us if it chooses, which they did.” He ended his last sentence with an edge to his voice. “Were we had multiple businesses willing to house or quarter other parts of our regiment, they ordered the DOI building to serve as our headquarters.”
“But they don’t like that?” Rieter asked as he opened a box with map markers and computers. “I mean they care about the war right?”
Hawke shrugged. “These kinds of people, low to mid-level bureaucrat, they think they’re above having to share space with us, because on some level, they feel like they’re above us.”
Rieter nodded, remembering a Senate’s aide who’d made a deal with them for a POW. “I know the type, sir,” he said. “The guy they sent to take Fletcher for her surgery, he just seemed slimy.”
Hawke chuckled. “I forgot you had to deal with that self-important clown, he talked to me about pulling strings for a second Lowe.” He shook his head. “Anyway, we’ve got enough here for us to go to work. By now the other company commanders should be on their way.”
Reiter took a seat at the conference table. “Why is that, sir?”
The older man grinned. “Because Rieter, we’re going to call the other regiments and figure out a counter-attack.”
Union vehicles rolled down the deserted streets of Landfall. Kennedy watched them in his Jupiter as he and Incubus company maintained the perimeter. Despite the feelings of triumph radiating from the headquarters battalion, he felt sour. We didn’t take this ground; they gave it to us. And where was our triumphant entry to Vaterland?
Radio chatter chased the thoughts from his mind. “No signs of prisoners, including-”
“I know,” Kennedy replied. “She’s going to be further to the rear, if not in the Tharcian Capital.”
Ballard sighed. “I just hope she’s not on a dissection table, you know they think she’s an abomination.” Kennedy nodded.
“Listen, fletcher’s tough, she proved as much on the Olympian front,” he said. “I don’t think she would let them take her apart that easily.” He cast his gaze to the east. Grunbeck’s light glowed in the distance. “The Black Knight’s out there, we need to be careful.”
“Why aren’t we shelling the city?” Ballard asked. “It’s practically begging us.” Kennedy shook his head.
“Because the city is more valuable to us intact, besides I doubt the Tharcians would station troops inside the city,” he said. “Our big lesson in Galicia was they’ll go out of their way to keep civilians out of harm’s way, I doubt they want a repeat of the battle for Polaski.”
Ballard got quiet for a moment. “I know we won that won, but we got our ass kicked doing it.”
“We were due for a battle like that,” Kennedy replied. “The Tharcians had improvised ways to counter our laser weaponry, Polaski provided them a great opportunity to use it.” Rapid beeping from his comms panel told him he was being hailed. “Hold on Ballard, I think division is calling.”
He tapped on the panel and found a text message from the command team. They require your presence in the new War Room- Operations. Huh, does Meyer have big plans already? Their previous endeavors, while successful, were only mildly so. Guess I’ll go find out.
“Ballard, you’re in charge,” he said as he walked his Jupiter towards a parking lot and took a knee. Searchlights blinded him as his eyes adjusted from the dimly lit cockpit. Once he could see, he climbed down to find the new war room. A nearby mechanic indicated command set themselves up in the town hall.
The building presented itself with a rather quaint structure. A Round dome capped a squat marble structure while Hellenic columns lined the steps. As he approached, he noticed most of the windows had been boarded up and the columns seemed to be carved and polished tree trunks rather than marble.
How excessive, using all of this genuine wood for a municipal building. He climbed the steps and was directed to the war room. What was formerly a planning and zoning room had been converted into a twenty-second century war room. Monitors displayed various maps and reports related to the units that made up the 75th panzerter.
Unfortunately, he’d missed Meyer by mere moments, but Irving was more than glad to bring him up to speed. “They have brought the Motor battalion up to adequate strength,” she said. “We’ll begin using them to disrupt this partisan nuisance shortly.”
Kennedy nodded. “Good, they can begin by bringing engineers up to our bridgehead, it is absolutely critical we repair that bridge.”
With a glance at her tablet, Irving nodded. “They actually have a mission planned already, one that minimizes risks to our engineers, but it will require you to hold that bridgehead against a possible counterattack.”
He furrowed his brow. “Why are we delaying?” he asked. “It is absolutely vital we get that bridge operational.”
“You know that, I know that, and comrade Meyer knows that,” she replied. “Know who else knows this? The Partisans.” She showed him her tablet. “Which is why we leaked to partisan sympathizers we were brining bridge layers from further west to simply bypass the damaged bridges.”
Kennedy took the tablet from her soft hands and read. “You’re pulling a platoon from the mechanized company?” she nodded.
“They’ll be disguised as bridging vehicles until they get ambushed,” she said. “Than they drop the disguise and destroy the partisans.”
Kennedy studied the plan she’s outlined on her tablet. “So we’re gambling the partisans go all in on this and we can crush them.” He nodded as he handed her tablet back. “That’s a risk I would take. If they’re not dealt with, they could prove as serious a threat as the black knight.”
Irving scoffed. “You pilots seem to overvalue the Black knight as a military asset, if anything it’s greatest impact is psychological.” Kennedy shrugged.
“If you fought him, or saw him in action, you’d want to avoid him too,” he replied. His response elicited a raised eyebrow from Irving.
“What are you avoiding?” she asked. “One high performance machine, or the man at the controls?”
Kennedy looked back at their situation maps. “I’ll remind you that Captain Reiter is responsible for the battle we came closest to losing, I have a feeling-“
“General Mate was responsible for the attack on FOB Blake,” Irving said. “And we had him assassinated via drone, an operation that cost us countless such craft and also happened to kill Field Marshall Skara himself.”
Kennedy sighed. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said. “But Rieter took people from me, friends, mentors, sisters, and brothers, the closest thing I had to family in my life and he took it from me, all save Ballard and a few others in Incubus company.”
Irving didn’t snark. She didn’t belittle him. Ins
tead, she approached him and looked more closely. “That’s not professional, that’s personal, but I understand.” She hesitated. “In a weird way.” She sat down in a chair.
Kennedy pulled one around and sat as well with his forearms resting on the back of the chair. He snapped at two sergeants on computers. “You there, leave us, take a dinner break or something.” He turned back to face the Operation officer. “I’m listening.”
“During the initial stages of the invasion, we went undercover, posing as research and engineering students,” she said. “Our objectives were straightforward enough, steal Tharican military research and designate targets for assassination.”
Kennedy winced. “That’s rather underhanded. Irving shook her head.
“As they say in intelligence, there are no bad tactics, only bad targets,” she replied before looking away. “Well, we picked a terrible target, this guy, husband and wife team, Anna and Woody Pete. They worked on the black knight.”
He sat a little straighter in his chair. “So that’s how Chaney got data from the Tharcians.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry continue.”
“Anyway, they had a pretty customary routine,” she said. “He’d stay late at the office working on the black knights’ weapons. She left in the afternoon to run their errands after working on the black knight’s engine.” She looked down. “Me and my partner Melissa went through our officers course, MAG training, and intelligence branch training together, we were good, on this mission we got paired with this guy, he had one eye, his codename was Thorn and that was all he told us about himself.”
She took a deep breath. “Sorry, this isn’t easy for me.”
Kennedy held up a hand. “I understand, we can train ourselves into suppressing certain things, but there are times when the cracks show.”
Irving nodded. “We fucked up, like actually fucked up, instead of staying late, Woody Pete leaves to visit his in-laws, Thorn had gone to his office to assassinate him while he was there, but his wife showed up waiting to drop something off while we waited for her with an injection.”
Kennedy raised an eyebrow. “An injection?” She waved a hand.
“Neurotoxin faster than the nervous system, she would have been dead before she felt the needle, but we never used it, and since she was with Agent Thorn, he tortured her to death in her office and made it look like a robbery, while we found out Woody had gone to tell his in-laws she was pregnant.” Something like regret passed over her young face.
“So he broke,” Kennedy summarized. “And?”
Irving looked away. “The war started day later, while we tried to pull out, he found us, and the surrounding cells, we couldn’t escape him, I only escaped because Melissa covered me in flame retardant blankets while our safe house burned down.”
Kennedy looked down. “If you could stop Woody Pete, would you? Or would you rather avoid him?” She shrugged.
“I couldn’t tell you,” she said. Kennedy stood and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Well, here’s to building a bridge,” he said. “I didn’t like you at first, but I think we’ve come to an understanding.” She smiled.
“I look forward to our renewed professional relationship.”
7
Snow fell gently on the lawn of the Presidential Manor. Field Marshal Adam Hausnerr would have thought the scene outside was serene were it not for the fact he dreaded the meeting he was about to walk into. With his tablet in his hand, he double checked to make sure his dress uniform remained in top condition.
He’d always hated the white coat that went with their winter dress and how easily it could stain or accumulate dirt. His black pants ran a tad tight, but his coat hid that. With a sigh, he straightened his tie and entered the conference room on the south lawn.
High carved ceilings gave the room a far more spacious feeling. Within its center, the ceiling rose into a dome that had been painted with a depiction of their people’s exodus from Earth. Below the ceiling lay a heavy wooden table, around which sat the other members of the Tharcian General Staff as well as Madame President herself.
President Isabel Reinhardt sat at the head of the table. Her excellency had chosen a comfortable, but casual business dress for these meetings. To her left sat the general officers in charge of personal, intelligence, Operations, and Logistics; while to her right the Generals incharge of Plans, Civil Affairs, communications, education and training, and financing and contracts. Hausner gingerly took his seat at the foot of the table and nodded to the President.
“Alright Ladies and Gentlemen,” she said. “We’ve got a war to win, so let’s get down to business.” She looked immediately at Hausnerr. “once again, I’d like your strategy outlined and I want to know why we aren’t halfway to Foundation by now.” The Field Marshall steeled himself as the other Generals leered at him.
“My predecessor’s initial strategy revealed itself within the opening days,” he said. “He guaranteed a quick victory and couldn’t be more wrong.” The head of Operations raised his hand.
“I hate to interrupt the Marshal, but that strategy was developed by the entirety of this Staff in conjunction with Marshal Skara,” he said. “It was the best plan possible for our forces given the situation.” He smiled at the Field Marshal.
“Yes,” Hausner said. “The best plan that had never once been war-gamed by any of the leaders involved with it, never took into account our enemy’s rearmament and doctrine, and never considered the possibility of its own failure.” He opened his tablet and brought up a projection of their current situation on the table.
“With all due respect to Hausner, we had no idea the enemy would be as effective as they were in the early stages of the war,” The head of intelligence said. “Nor did we evaluate their equipment as highly as it actually should have been considered.”
Hausner held up a hand. “This leads me to our current strategy after the previous one fell apart, play defense and wait for the navy to save us, otherwise known as the Union strategy circa 2112, and that is unacceptable.” He locked eyes with the President. “Unless one of our allies in exile whips up something, we’re on our own ,and have to plan for it that way.”
“So what are you proposing?” the Chief of Operations asked. “Because we have no path to victory unless you have a lot more trained forces waiting around somewhere we don’t know about.”
A stern glare silenced the man. “The answer is to quite using the forces we have like a blunt object and use them like scalpels. We need to reintroduce maneuver into our battle plans and strategy,” Hausner said. “We will hit back at them, we will force them back, and we will win.”
President Reinhardt smiled. “Good, I’m tired of the loser mentality from my officers, there’s a couple of things I want to run by you though.”
The Chief of Contracts and finance leaned forward. “We’re all ears, Madam President,” the man said.
“I want the bombing campaign to target the Union’s orbital elevator,” she said. “I hate seeing pictures of it, I hate seeing it reaching up to Phobos, and I especially hate that the Union can cheaply move resources between the surface and space.”
Most of the general staff frowned. “I would advise against that Madame President, that repercussions to our international image would be severe,” The Chief of Civil Affairs said with her fingers tented. “We might as well order the Effiel tower or the pyramids on Earth destroyed, it’s a universal symbol of human achievement.”
The President snorted. “They tore down Christ the Deliverer from the slopes of MT. Olympus, Avalon has destroyed multiple O’Neil colonies, each one a continent sized example of that same human achievement.”
The Operations Chief shook his head. “If we take to destroying our enemies’ symbols, how does that make us any different from the Soviets?”
“I think Madame President has a point,” The Logistics Chief said. “The Eiffel Tower doesn’t transport millions of tons of metals, gasses, and water for the North Sea Alliance, I think
the comparison is apples to oranges.”
Hausnerr raised a hand. “I would endorse the option if we maintained the moral high ground. If it were Avalon’s Space Elevator, we wouldn’t be having this debate.” He looked back at President Reinhardt. “There was something else you wanted us to hear?”
She nodded. “Yes, I want Gallacia liberated by the end of spring.” Before any of the General staff could object, Hausnerr nodded.
“We’ll see to it,” he said.
“This is a damn nightmare,” Kennedy said. He and Knight walked around the burnt remains of a supply convoy. A pile of charred bodies lay next to each other a short distance away, while two more had been shot in the head further down the road. MAG MPs took pictures, labeled evidence, and currently worked to identify the bodies. The sergeant in charge of the investigation approached the pair.
“Nightmare’s one way to put it, comrade,” he said. “Preliminary analysis had some kind of sedative or paralyzing agent as well as alcohol in their system.”
Kennedy scowled. “They were drunk on duty? Is that what happened?” The MP shook his head and led them to the back of one of the supply trucks. He opened the double doors to reveal an empty, cavernous space.
“This truck was hauling rifles, machine-guns, rockets, and ammo to boot,” the man said. He pointed to a burnt crater a hundred meters down the road. “And that one carried panzerter ammo and artillery shells, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they napped a few of those to make IEDs.”
Knight held up a hand. “Wait a minute, so how does the alcohol or sedatives play into this?” The MP jabbed a finger at the pile of charred bodies.
“We think someone lured them over with some local spirits and used the alcohol to hide the taste of the sedatives,” he said. “Those two though, they were tubers, and that played into their ability to resist whatever he put in there. They make a break for the truck, and he shoots them.”
Armored Warrior Panzerter: Eve of Battle Page 10