War To The Knife

by Grant, Peter

Dave entered the three characters on his comm unit’s virtual keyboard and read off the response. “BOLUS to TANTO, authenticating Golf Zulu Delta, over.”

  “TANTO to BOLUS, authenticated, go ahead, over.”

  He began reading from the piece of paper on which he’d carefully composed his message. “BOLUS to TANTO, be advised BILE, EAGLE and RAPID for WELLINGTON, HINDENBURG and WASHINGTON. I say again, BILE, EAGLE and RAPID for WELLINGTON, HINDENBURG and WASHINGTON. This information is verified CHROME, I say again, this information is verified CHROME. Timeline for RAPID is BASE minus three BAXTER, I say again, timeline for RAPID is BASE minus three BAXTER. Request HAWKEYE on this circuit. Over.”

  A brief pause. “TANTO to BOLUS, I understand BILE, EAGLE and RAPID for WELLINGTON, HINDENBURG and WASHINGTON, information CHROME, timeline BASE minus three BAXTER. HAWKEYE approved. Over.”

  “BOLUS to TANTO, thank you. BOLUS out.” He folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket, then disconnected his comm unit. “That’s it.”

  As she collapsed the satellite dish, Tamsin shook her head. “All those code words! What were you saying?”

  “Bolus is my code name on this mission and Tanto is our communications center. Wellington, Hindenburg and Washington are code words for our remaining three major bases – this one was Bonaparte before it fell to the enemy. Bile means betrayal, Eagle means surveillance, and Rapid means attack. Using those words in reference to anything or anyone makes the meaning obvious. Chrome means that the information is absolutely reliable. Base is a number used as a reference by adding or subtracting a figure from it. For this date base is eight, and Baxter means days, so I just told them that the three bases would be assaulted five days from now. Hawkeye means I can call again anytime on this circuit. They’ll mount a permanent listening watch in case I come up with more information.”

  “Complicated, but useful. Anyone listening in wouldn’t know what you were saying unless they knew the code words.”

  “That’s the whole idea. Now, let’s get back to the others and make some plans.”

  “But what can ten of us – eleven including you – do against what must be about sixty of them?”

  “Quite a lot, if we play our cards right. Don’t forget, half of them will be working deep inside the mountain at any time, so initially we’ve only got to deal with the other half of them at the camp. Most will be asleep, except for some sentries. We’ll see about those inside the tunnel once we’ve dealt with those outside. Besides, no matter how many of them there are, I’ll be damned if I’ll leave Lieutenant-Colonel Yardley in their hands! You have stim-tabs in the airvan?”

  “Of course, in the med kit.”

  “We’re going to need them to stay awake tonight. We’d better have everybody take one while we talk.”

  March 4th 2850 GSC

  MATOPO HILLS

  Dave crouched behind a bush and adjusted his night vision visor. The coals of the fire lent a strange reddish cast to the scene through its sensors, even though the flames had long since died down. He turned his head to Corporal Hansen next to him, touched him on the shoulder and pointed to the nearest armored car, its turret moving slowly from side to side as the person on watch inside scanned the perimeter of the camp. Fortunately, their thermally-neutral battledress could not be picked up by its sensors.

  Hansen nodded silently, tapping the grenades in pouches on his chest. No words were necessary – they’d gone through everything before leaving the cave. Dave was about to move away towards his own target when the vehicle’s turret stopped moving. Its hatch swung open and clanged against the stop. A drowsy voice called from among the sleeping figures around the embers, “Shut up, dammit!”

  The figure emerging through the hatch muttered “Ah, blow it out your butt!” It was a woman’s voice, Dave noted. She swung her legs over the side of the turret onto the hull, jumped down to the ground, then headed for the tree behind which Dave and the Corporal were crouching. They edged cautiously backwards, taking cover behind a bush only a few meters away as she came around the tree trunk, undoing her belt. She dropped her trousers and underwear and squatted behind the tree.

  Dave made an instant decision, drawing his knife as he crept to his left. The faint sound of his movements was covered by the prolonged splashing of liquid as the woman relieved herself. He came up behind her and struck her head once, hard, with the hilt of the knife. She made a soft grunting sound as she collapsed backwards. Dave took her weight against his body, holding her with one arm around her while he sheathed his knife. The Corporal hurried to help him. Together they lifted her off the ground and carried her further into the bush, silently blessing the bulk of the armored car that helped to hide them from the other enemy soldiers.

  About twenty meters from the tree they lowered her to the ground behind a bush. Dave drew his knife again and thrust it upward between her ribs, piercing her heart, holding his other hand over her nose and mouth as he did so. She jerked, but made no sound. He withdrew the knife carefully, wiped it on her uniform shirt and returned it to its sheath, then motioned the Corporal nearer.

  “That was an unexpected bit of luck,” he breathed into Hansen’s ear. “Take her place in the turret, make sure the plasma cannon’s loaded, and stand by. Your first target is the other armored car on the far side of the fire. Once you’ve taken it out, watch the other vehicles to see if anyone’s inside. If you see anyone, or if any of them try to move, blast them.”

  “What about Sergeant Kane, Sir? Won’t I hit him if I fire at the armored car?”

  “I’ll call Kane to take your place, and let you deal with his target. Having a plasma cannon on our side is worth changing the plan. Be prepared to go into action at once if anything goes wrong.”

  “OK, Sir.”

  They crept back to the tree, and watched until the slowly scanning turret of the other armored car was turned away from them. As soon as the Corporal was sure its sensors weren’t pointed in his direction he moved silently to the nearer vehicle, hoisted himself up to the turret, and lowered his legs through the open hatch, pulling it down over his head as he dropped inside. In a matter of moments the turret resumed the same idly meandering search pattern as before, but Dave noted that the barrel of its plasma cannon now spent more time pointed at the other vehicles than towards the surrounding bush. Its motor made a soft whining sound as it trained from side to side.

  He consulted the time display in the lower corner of his visor image. It was almost four in the morning – still just over an hour to go before their planned assault. He moved slowly and carefully back from the camp to where he was sure his voice wouldn’t be heard, then activated his transmitter.

  “Bolus to Five,” he whispered. “Change of plan. Join me.”

  Instead of an answering voice, he heard a double click over the circuit. He nodded approvingly. He preferred to work with his own Charlie Company soldiers whenever possible, because he knew their ways and they knew his; but these borrowed troops were proving to be every bit as competent, and just as capable of adjusting their plans to fit changing circumstances at the drop of a hat. Then again, after more than three years of hard fighting and heaven knows how many engagements, they should be, he thought to himself.

  He settled down, waiting for Sergeant Kane to make his way silently around the camp to join him.

  ~ ~ ~

  Captain Amesha coughed, turning his head away from the others as he hawked up a dust-laden gobbet of phlegm, lifted his dust-mask and spat it violently into the rocks beside him. Why the hell do they never issue us enough filters for these damned masks?, he wondered resentfully as his nostrils wrinkled with the sudden onslaught of the stench of decaying rebel bodies, left unburied in the cave complex after the earlier assault. He hastily readjusted the mask. Its filter was already so clogged with rock dust that it no longer served much practical purpose, but at least it kept down the stink. Besides, regulations demanded it be worn. If his men had to suffer under such stupidity, he’d suffer with them. That
was particularly important because most of his unit consisted of reluctant conscripts. They didn’t want to be here, and showed it in the lack of enthusiasm and effort they put into their work. He had to set an example to motivate them to work harder and more effectively alongside his few career NCO’s and soldiers.

  One of the two men at the front of the rubble remover, guiding its laser cutters as they sliced and diced chunks of rock into pieces small enough to be dumped onto the conveyor and fed back to the discharge point, suddenly grabbed his partner’s arm and pointed. The other looked, nodded, and stabbed a finger at the control panel. The rumble of the conveyor died away.

  “What is it?” Amesha called.

  “You said we were looking for a small metal safe set into the wall, right, Sir?”

  “Yes. It was concealed behind a notice-board.”

  “This may be it, Sir.” He pointed into the rubble in front of him. “Looks like it came down with the outer layer of the wall.”

  “Hold on, I’m coming.”

  The Captain climbed laboriously over chunks of rock and parts of the machine to reach them. As he approached they scrabbled in the rubble with their gloved hands, tossing aside chunks of rock and pieces of a flat panel that certainly looked as if it might once have been a notice-board. They straightened and turned towards him with a rectangular metal box in their hands. He grinned as he saw the electronic keypad on its door.

  “Well done, boys! That looks promising. Let’s get it open and see what’s inside.”

  A pair of hydraulic jaws inserted into the door seam made short work of the box. It bent, bulged, then ripped open with a scream of tortured steel. Amesha reached inside and pulled out a stack of papers. On the bottom was a large brown plaspaper envelope, filled with documents from the feel of it. Its flap was glued shut. The front bore a label reading ‘FOR VP AND GOVT IN EXILE – EVIDENCE #3’.

  “This must be it,” he said with great satisfaction, “but only that SS Colonel can say for sure. Stand fast, all of you, while I take it to him. Get some water and relax for a few minutes.”

  He took all the papers with him to be on the safe side as he turned and headed for the entrance, by now almost a hundred meters behind the diggers down the rock-strewn tunnel.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dave’s night vision visor provided enough detail for him to recognize the Captain as he emerged from the entrance to the former base. He stiffened as he saw the papers and envelope clutched in his hand. Had the enemy already found the safe?

  The officer headed straight for the van to which he’d led the SS Colonel the previous evening. Dave made a swift decision and keyed his microphone. “This is Bolus,” he whispered. “Forget the timetable. Stand by for immediate action.” There were no responses, but he knew everyone would have heard him. Adrenaline would be surging through their systems just as it was through his, everyone preparing to fight for their lives. The only way this would work was if they killed most of the enemy before they had a chance to wake up, realize what was going on, and organize an effective defense.

  Beside him Sergeant Kane brought up his carbine, settling its shortened stock against the upper panel of his body armor, aiming at the communications vehicle. From their vantage point they could see straight into its open door to where the operator on duty was slouched in a chair, feet up on the counter, reading something on an electronic pad. Dave tapped his arm lightly. “I’m going to get closer to that van,” he whispered, indicating the Bactrian officer’s destination. Kane nodded without speaking.

  Amesha reached the Colonel’s vehicle. Two bodyguards leaned against it on either side of the door. They looked at him without expression or greeting. “I’ve got something for the Colonel to see,” he told them. “Wake him up, please.”

  “He’s asleep. No-one disturbs the Colonel when he’s asleep,” one of them replied indifferently, still slouching against the vehicle.

  “Stand to attention when you speak to an officer, damn you!” The man’s mouth dropped open in astonishment, but he shambled to a semblance of attention as the Captain went on, “Wake the Colonel. That’s an order! Give him my respects, and inform him that Captain Amesha has something to show him.”

  “I – er… OK. I mean yes, Sir!” The honorific popped out of his mouth as Amesha glared at him menacingly. He clearly didn’t know how to respond to someone who exhibited none of the servility to which SS personnel were accustomed. He vanished into the trailer, closing the door behind him and leaving his colleague outside.

  Dave grinned. He could almost bring himself to like this enemy Captain for the way he stood no nonsense, and was clearly disgusted by torture. It was a pity he had to die… but then, no-one on Laredo had invited him or his comrades to invade; and ever since the Bactrian Army had started killing Laredan soldiers who surrendered, the Resistance had stopped taking prisoners too.

  After a few moments, during which Amesha tapped his boot impatiently on the ground, the trailer door opened again. The SS Colonel stood framed against the light inside. He’d taken the time to get into his uniform. Clearly the man thought he had to live up to some sort of image.

  “What is it, Captain?”

  “I think we’ve found it, Sir.” He extended the papers in his hand, the envelope uppermost.

  “Let me see!” The Colonel rapidly descended the three steps to ground level, eagerly reaching out to take the documents from the Captain. He read the label on the envelope and laughed aloud. “Splendid! You’ve done well, Captain. I’ll see to it – ”

  He never completed his sentence. Dave lined his rifle and carefully touched off a single shot that struck the Colonel on the bridge of his nose. His head snapped back and he crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap. Captain Amesha reacted instantly, dropping as he turned, hand streaking towards the holster on his right hip, but Dave followed his movements with his rifle and slammed two rounds into his upper body as he hit the ground. The Captain shouted aloud in agony, his weapon not yet drawn as Dave raised his sights slightly and fired a third shot into his head, then aimed at the two bodyguards. They were still fumbling with their slung rifles, expressions of panicked shock and utter disbelief on their faces. He couldn’t help thinking cynically as he killed them, I wouldn’t trust you incompetent bastards to guard anything, let alone my life!

  The ambush team exploded into violent action at the first shot. Behind Dave the armored car’s plasma cannon fired, a ground-shaking eructation that sounded more like a giant’s basso profundo cough than an explosion. The other armored car on the far side of the embers erupted in a fireball, sending out a spray of fragmented armor plate and other components. The shattered remains of its turret were blown into the air, spinning over and over as they fell into the bush beyond the rest of the vehicles. Meanwhile, the other team members began pouring fire into their assigned targets.

  Dave sprinted to the open door of the Colonel’s van and fired four times into the figures inside, twice for each of the two remaining bodyguards as they struggled to get up. He found time to marvel at their stupidity for zipping themselves into sleeping-bags in a combat zone where ambush was always a possibility; but even as he did so he was spinning around towards the soldiers jumping to their feet around the fire, shooting as fast as he could aim and pull the trigger. He could hear more shots from the direction of the assault shuttle, and mentally crossed his fingers that Tamsin and her fellow pilot would be able to cope with its crew and the interrogators.

  The canvas cover over the load bed of one of the transports was suddenly thrown back, revealing several figures clutching rifles as they began to jump over the tailgate. The turret of the captured armored car whined briefly as it traversed towards the new target, then its plasma cannon fired again, the bolt smashing the vehicle into a tumbling cartwheel across the ground, throwing the figures clear. Dave shifted his aim and silenced the screams of a wounded survivor with a well-placed shot. Out of the corner of his eye he was vaguely aware that first one, then another of the soldiers ar
ound the fire had made it into the bushes, seemingly unscathed.

  Suddenly there were no more targets. He spun around, checking the camp site as he called, “Bolus to all, report in sequence, over.”

  One by one the others reported in. By actual count twenty-seven enemy soldiers were down, plus the interrogators and shuttle crew, plus the Colonel, the Captain and the four guards Dave had slain to open the action and the woman sentry further back in the bushes. He nodded in satisfaction. The two he’d seen running into the bushes had not been carrying weapons. They would pose no threat – in fact, they were probably still running.

  “Corporal Hansen, can you drive that thing?” he called.

  “Yessir!”

  “Move it to where you’ve got a clear shot at the entrance to the base, then use your plasma cannon to demolish it completely. Aim as far inside as you can to bring down the roof, then work back towards the entrance. I want all those inside to stay there forever. They can keep our own dead company!”

  “Remind me never to piss you off, Sir. You’re too damn vindictive!”

  Scattered laughter sounded from those who’d heard the Corporal’s quip as he slid down into the driver’s seat, engaged the drive unit and started the armored car moving forward. It rolled over some of the bodies around the fire, but he didn’t let that stop him.

  Dave’s radio came to life. “Dave, this is Tamsin. We need you at the shuttle ASAP.”

  “Dave to Tamsin, on my way. Break. Sergeant Kane, take charge here. Make sure every enemy soldier is dead, then see if we’ve captured anything interesting in the vehicles.”

  As he ran towards the shuttle he heard the first cannon shot from the armored car. It was a curiously muffled blast, proving that Hansen had fired deep into the entrance tunnel rather than at the rock surrounding it. Six more shots followed, carefully spaced, showing that the Corporal was aiming each one and not firing blindly. A series of thunderous roars sounded from the entrance, and a choking cloud of rock dust erupted from it and rose into the air.