The War for Profit Series Omnibus

by Gideon Fleisher

  The commander of their next victim was a good shot. It was Lance Sergeant Ching. He fired both his heavy machine guns and his laser cannon, hitting a skimmer. The light vehicle was smashed and burst into flames. All three mercenaries on board were killed instantly. The destroyed skimmer listed to its side and then cartwheeled, sent skittering by the force of the blows it took. The other two skimmers backed off, just out of range of the expert gunner.

  Ching’s tactical status screen showed that he was down to four tanks. He considered his situation and made a decision. “Break contact, men. This is just a distraction; we must get to our objective. Disengage and follow me.” His driver turned west and shoved the accelerator pedal to the floor. A rocket fired by a mercenary hit the tank square in the back, followed by two flamer shots. Ching’s tank lurched but then continued to accelerate. Three tanks followed him. He didn’t know the last one was commanded by Tad.

  Mortinson and his companions were still flaming a tank, catching it before it could get away. It behaved much like the first one, except it took longer to shut down. A soldier on the firing line shot a rocket at the overheated Wasp, hitting it on the right side of the turret. The force of the blow caused the turret lift off, spinning slowly in the air to land on its base beside the tank. Peering into the cupola view port, Galen saw not an angry rebel but a bloody mess instead. The tank commander’s smashed face was pressed by the fall into the view port. The enemy stared at Galen with dull, lifeless eyes.

  “Too much for you, dumbass?”

  Galen said, “I’ll be okay. So what’s the status? Battle over?”

  “For us, yes. Two of them Hornets got away, followed by Tad. The mechanized infantry platoon is waiting for them in Chicago. We did enough damage to them dumbasses; third platoon should be able to fix the rest of them. Also the two skimmers are chasing them, taking pop shots.”

  “Chicago?”

  “Oh, that’s what we call Chon Gok Op, the port town where this river meets the sea. Revolting slaves wanted to take it so the Mandarin army would have to come in from the other direction. Would have taken them about a month longer; by then this whole area would have been a rebellious district, a real armed camp of rebel militants.”

  “Why so?” asked Galen.

  “Because, dumbass, these people are repressed. Give them even the faintest glimmer of hope, show them you can actually last more than a couple of weeks defying the government, and they’ll support you to the death.”

  The company commander rode up in his skimmer. He leaped out just before it stopped moving, causing him to jog up to Mortinson and Galen. The driver parked the vehicle and leaned back in the seat. The exhausted laser cannon gunner slumped over his weapon but kept his eyes open.

  “Morning, Gentlemen.”

  “Good morning, sir.” Galen and Mortinson gave the Lieutenant a proper hand salute and held it until the officer returned the gesture.

  “Sniper check? Means the area is secure. What’s your ACE, Chief?”

  “Fourteen broke dicks who’ll heal and return to duty. Two broke dicks who’ll have to find another line of work. Two troops turned into dog meat.”

  “Damn I hate losing troops.” The officer’s face went slack for a moment.

  Galen decided to walk off and check his squad. He heard the Chief and the Lieutenant continue their conversation, the words fading as he got further away.

  Galen chose a flat spot of grass beside the road. “Second squad, over here!”

  Seven troops ambled up.

  “Who we missing?”

  “Trooper Kronenberger from first team. Dead,” said Lotus.

  “Is that all? I’m missing two bodies.”

  “Tushar from third team,” said Corporal Clay. “He’s injured but he’ll return to duty, just got hit in the guts by fragments from a rocket. He’s with the medics.”

  “Okay, we’re lucky. We just fought a whole tank company. The platoon lost half its strength. Let’s get some rest while we’re waiting for the Chief to think up some more stupid things to do.” Galen stretched out on the ground and went right to sleep.

  ***

  “Sergeant Raper.”

  Galen heard the voice but closed his eyes tighter. Maybe the pest would go away.

  “Wake up. We got stand-to in twenty minutes.”

  “Okay Lotus, I’m tired. What time is it?”

  “Nine thirty. Stand-to is at ten. The rest of the squad is up and getting ready. This is the fourth time I tried to wake you.”

  “Thanks. You’re a good leader, Corporal Lotus,” Galen sat up and rubbed his eyes. It was muggy down by the river. The bright sun was burning away the last of the morning fog. The damaged tanks lay strewn about the sides of the road. The troops around Galen were washing their faces and hands in the river and using electric razors to shave. Galen decided to do the same.

  His face was burned, like sunburn, except for where the goggles had protected the skin around his eyes from the flamer’s heat. His lips were dry and chapped and the front of his uniform was singed. His hair and his uniform were stiff with the dried blood from the dead tanker he pulled from a wreck. Galen felt and looked and smelled awful, but so did the rest of the troops. He brushed most of the filth from his coveralls by hand and then waded waist-deep into the river and rinsed his face, hair and hands. After stretching to loosen his sore muscles, he shaved his beard and cleaned his rifle.

  “Sergeants, meeting,” called Mortinson.

  Galen wandered over to where Spike, Tad and Haas were waiting to meet with the Chief.

  “You all sleep well?”

  “No.”

  “Good. We got more work ahead of us. The whole company is coming out here for formation so the commander can brief us. TRAINS is coming out to collect up our weapons and issue tranquillizer rifles. Don’t worry, you’ll keep your side arms and the troops will also get pistols. But the side arms are backup weapons only.”

  “What’s going on?” asked Galen.

  “Something different, that’s all I know. The commander will fill us in on the details of the mission. Get your troops ready for the change.”

  “Another question: we lost half our strength last night. Where did all these other troops come from?” asked Galen.

  “We reconstituted. If you didn’t sleep so hard, you’d know that.”

  “I mean, who are the new troops and where did they come from?”

  “Schooling. Look, dumbass, the primary mission of this battalion is to get you snappers ready to go out into the fleet. Half your time is spent in the field, half in the schools. Three months in the field, three months in garrison training up to the next skill level.”

  Galen felt confused.

  Mortinson continued to explain, “You’re a Sergeant now. When you rotate back in to garrison, you go to the platoon leader’s course and they try to make a Chief or Lieutenant out of you. Then you come back out to the field and use what you learned for three months. Then you go back in and get more training, where they get you ready for your assignment out in the fleet. Since you’re an Academy graduate, your last three months on Mandarin will probably be spent getting trained for the type of tank platoon you’ll be assigned to command. This make sense to you?”

  “Yes, but where did all the casualty replacements come from?”

  “The schools, dumbass. All that training is suspended until this worker’s rebellion is stopped. Vehicles have been running in and out of here all night, bringing out troops and taking back the injured. Any more questions, Galen?”

  “Meeting over, Chief?”

  “Yes.”

  Galen went back to his squad and led them over to stand in a loose formation in front of Mortinson. First and third squads joined them and Mortinson took charge.

  “Fall in, dumbasses. Close interval.” They did. “All right, at ease and listen up. Ground your gear and go get all the heavy weapons and put them in a neat row beside the road. When the trucks from battalion trains get here, put the heavy wea
pons on the trucks and down load the tranquilizer guns. You troops will be issued pistols as well as tranq guns. Then turn in your rifles. With that accomplished, fall back in over here for the company formation. Any questions?”

  “Yes,” asked a troop, “What’s going on?’

  “The company commander will brief us. Now fall out and do what I told you. Fall out!”

  The antitank platoon did as Mortinson ordered. The convoy of heavy-duty trucks from headquarters company came out and picked up the sniper rifles, the flamers, the rocket launchers and the machine guns. Finally Galen was ready to hand over his rifle.

  “ID card, Sergeant,” said the supply clerk as Galen handed him his rifle.”

  “Sure, but why?”

  “We credit the value of the rifle to your account, and then deduct the cost of the tranquilizer rifle. Of course, ammunition is free.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  Galen walked back to his platoon area and checked the troops of his squad.

  “Sergeant, what’s with the pistols and the tranquilizer rifles?”

  “It seems our mission has changed a bit. Chief says the pistols are back-up weapons, and the tranq guns are the primary weapon. Looks like we don’t want to hurt nobody.”

  The mercenaries chuckled. “Like I really care,” said one.

  Two helos arrived and landed behind the formation. The pilots shut down the engines and dismounted, making their way over to the formation area. They were accompanied by half a dozen snappers. Two skimmers turned off the road and parked next to the helos, hulls to the ground with their blowers shut off. Six troops climbed out of each and joined the pilot’s group. Soon they were in a loose formation, standing twenty meters to the right of the antitank platoon.

  “Who’s that?” asked a troop in third squad.

  “Headquarters platoon,” said Mortinson.

  Three more skimmers arrived, followed by the four APCs Galen remembered from the welcome center convoy. The vehicles parked behind the formation and the crew members dismounted to form a platoon between the headquarters platoon and the antitank platoon.

  “Combined maneuver platoon,” announced Mortinson, not waiting to be asked. Five fusion-powered Infantry Fighting Vehicles arrived, their nickel alloy treads groaning and thumping as the tracked vehicles rumbled down the road. They passed in front of the formation before turning off. Galen noticed the small turret on top of each IFV had a light laser cannon protruding from it, and guided missile launchers were mounted facing forward on the sides of their glacis plates. The IFVs turned smoothly and came to a halt just off the road. The vehicles dropped their assault ramps and the crews and infantry squads dismounted and formed a platoon to the left of the antitank platoon.

  “Those hotshots are the mechanized infantry platoon,” said Mortinson.

  The company commander’s skimmer hustled in at a good clip and slowed just enough for the Lieutenant to jump out and jog to a stop. Galen wondered if the running dismount were his signature move or if he were imitating some historical figure. The officer centered himself on the company formation and yelled, “Bring your units to attention!”

  The Chiefs faced their platoons. The headquarters Chief ordered his platoon to attention, followed by the combined maneuver Chief, then Mortinson and finally the mechanized Chief. The Chiefs then faced the Lieutenant.

  “Gentlemen,” began the company commander, “I have been given a somewhat irregular mission. Because you did such a good job last night, our higher-ups and the employer thinks we can put down this worker revolt all by ourselves. There are people a lot smarter than me and with a lot more rank on their collars who say it will work. They also say we need to use tranquilizer rifles.”

  He paused, gazing around at all the mercenaries. Galen hoped the Lieutenant was smart enough to continue the briefing before the troops could start heckling. Finally the Lieutenant spoke again.

  “I know we can do it. We’re here, were ready and we can nip this thing in the bud. And I will remind all of you, there is a lot of money at stake. Money for you. We will be some of the richest foot troops in Panzer Brigade history after we pull this off. We’re already splitting salvage from these enemy tanks, plus hazardous duty pay, plus mission bonuses. Hell, I might just retire after this one.”

  Galen wondered if he’d ever get a chance to spend the money.

  “As for the mission: we will gain control of the tank factory and the industrial compound surrounding it. It is imperative we do this as benevolently as possible. That is the reason for the tranq guns. Of course you have back-up weapons, those pistols, because the right to defend yourself with deadly force is a part of your contract.”

  The officer paused again, gathering his thoughts. “Why not just let the Mandarins do it? We know they could. We know they would come in here with about ten thousand scrubby militia thugs supported by hobbling, ragged tanks. They would trash the place, level the towns, round up hoards of civilians and execute them and stamp out anything that resembles a rebellion. Then they would rebuild everything and re-populate the area with good little factory workers from somewhere else.”

  The Lieutenant looked behind him for a moment, then back at the formation.

  “The old man says we can do better. He says we can end the rebellion with a minimum of damage, and have these same people happy and building vehicles again in less than a week. So we will. I don’t have enough rank to authorize me to make a liar out of the Colonel, and neither do any of you. So we better make this mission come out the way he says.”

  He paused again then said, “Chiefs. I need to see you right after this. Take charge of your platoons.”

  The Chiefs saluted to acknowledge the order and the commander returned the gesture before relaxing his posture.

  “Stand easy, men,” said Mortinson. “Wait here until I get back from the meeting with the Lieutenant. Go ahead and fall out but don’t go more than twenty meters away.”

  “Second squad, over this way,” said Galen. He led his troops to a relatively undamaged patch of grass by the shoulder of the road. “Sit down and rest, sleep if you feel like.”

  He walked to the river’s edge and sat peering across the water. The fog was gone. The river flowed slowly by, carrying a tree branch at about half a meter per second. The far bank was approximately two kilometers away, marked by an eroded drop-off bank three meters high. The grayish-brown water lapped at the bank in little wavelets, the translucent water washing over the gravel. Galen picked up a flat stone and skipped it across the water, counting six splashes before the rock sank.

  “Damn it’s hot,” said a troop in Galen’s squad.

  “Can’t believe we’re pacifying rebels,” said another.

  “Shut up,” said Galen. He studied his tranquilizer rifle. It was a weapon designed to incapacitate rather than kill an opponent. The magazine held ten rounds tipped with a packet of needles containing a powerful sedative. Galen knew the weapon was ineffective beyond the range of thirty meters. He also knew the needles wouldn’t penetrate body armor. However, scoring a hit anywhere the needles could find their way into the blood stream would take an opponent down. The needles would eventually dissolve in the victim’s body, making it relatively harmless compared to conventional weapons.

  “Fall in!” yelled Mortinson.

  The troops of antitank platoon formed back up in front of their Chief. He faced the mercenaries and said, “This is the deal. The company will liberate the factory and secure the major buildings of the town beside the factory. Our job will be the jail house. We’ll take it over and get the prisoners ready to be shipped out. All the prisoners. That means the ones we take, the political prisoners held by the rebels and the common criminals who were in jail before all this started. The Mandarins will sort out who’s who. As far as we’re concerned, we treat them all like scum because we don’t know one from the other. Don’t believe a thing any one of them says, and if one gives you a hard time, shoot ‘em with the tranq gun, in the ass. Right now
we rest until sunset, then mount up on the combined maneuver platoon’s APCs and ride in to attack the rebels. Any Questions?”

  No one spoke.

  “Good. Fall out until nineteen hundred.”

  Chapter Nine

  Galen went back to his place by the river. He sat down and placed his night vision goggles on the ground, facing the small solar panel towards the sun so the batteries could recharge. He peered out at the river and eavesdropped on a conversation between two troops. One he knew, the other was a recent replacement.

  “Horst, man, why’d you stay out here?”

  “I didn’t want to rotate in last time. We were a troop short so I volunteered.”

  “That’s crazy. You have to go in to get training to get promoted.”

  “Who cares about promotion?”

  “What about pass time? When you go in you get a week off plus weekends off and five day passes every month. Plus a week off before you come back out to the field.”

  “Well I’m not taking my pass time; I’m letting it build up.”

  “What for?”

  “I’ve been here eight months so they owe me about two months off. My last three months here I’ll go to garrison so I can be a Corporal when I go out to the fleet. Then I’ll skip all my pass time out there.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to cash in all my accrued pass time so I can finish my five year contract in four years.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “I’m saving up enough money to go to the Ostwind Military Academy. But to get in the academy I have to be under the age of twenty-seven. The only way I can do both is by cutting my enlistment short by a year. To do that, I have to skip most of my pass time.”

  “Why not just do like me and make an enlisted career in the Panzers? I’ll be retired when I’m thirty eight.”

  “I want to be an officer.”

  Galen stopped listening and thought about how lucky he was. Sure, he didn’t do very well at the academy but he did graduate. Unlike most of his freshman class, he actually made it to graduation. Although he didn’t make the cut for acceptance to the Ostwind officer corps, he did get a job. In about ten months he would be assigned a tank platoon. He would make his mother proud and pay her back for her sacrifice. After he finished his obligation to the Panzers, maybe he would become a gladiator and make a fortune in the arena. Or he would take a civilian job doing something safe. Maybe he would be a janitor or an apartment manager or something.