The War for Profit Series Omnibus

by Gideon Fleisher

  The tanks in the rear came forward, their infantry done with the task of clearing the first two buildings. The tanks moved side by side down the middle of the street to get past the other three tanks. Then they veered to the curbs, each putting one tread on the sidewalk on either side of the street. The Legion troops used the tanks for cover and then moved ahead of the tanks to clear more buildings. Resistance stopped and the mission changed to simple search.

  The Centurion pulled up in his command skimmer and called a halt when the group had made its way into the city more than two kilometers. Brock ordered her tanks to park in the intersection of two broad streets. They formed a circle facing out. The Legion troops made their way in to fill the perimeter gaps between the tanks.

  Chief Brock checked her auxiliary status screen. The citadel was five hundred meters to the West. The main attack force, seven Legion Centuries supported by the rest of the Stallion tank battalion, had reached it and was preparing to breach its main gate.

  Stovall drove his battle car forward and parked inside the perimeter. The soldiers inside the perimeter were performing first aid and the Centurion supervised triage. Once the wounded were stabilized, the two platoon leaders loaded injured soldiers onto Stovall’s car. The Centurion told him to take the casualties to the rear.

  Stovall drove his battle car out of the area, carrying three dead Legion soldiers and eleven other soldiers too injured to stay in the fight. Stovall drove, drove as smoothly as his driving skills would allow. When he reached the breach in the wall the Century’s aid station was there and in the final stages of setting up. Medics unloaded wounded soldiers and carted them into the aid station on gurneys.

  And then the message came, “End of Mission. The city of Bristol has surrendered.” Stovall took off his helmet and loosened his armor and leaned back in his seat and relaxed.

  Chief Brock put her crews into a tactical sleep plan and sat high in her cupola and watched for nearly two hours as a parade of disarmed enemy prisoners of war, hands bound behind their backs, walked past her position. They came from the citadel, walked past her perimeter and on towards the same break in the city wall she had come through earlier. They were escorted by the Brigade’s Light Infantry battalion.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Jasmine Panzer Brigade’s Command and Staff Call was held in a pole barn on a ranch that was five kilometers west of Bristol. Galen stood at the head of the table, a table hastily assembled from sheets of fiberboard placed on saw horses. They all stood. They didn’t have chairs.

  Galen said, “Yesterday was a good day, Bristol surrendered. Now we take pause and prepare to continue on into the next phase of our campaign. My concerns are getting back up to strength and implementing lessons learned at all levels. However, my primary concern is moving forward when it best suits our purposes. We are gathered here today to figure that out. What are your concerns?”

  Tribunus Tribula said, “Momentum. We dealt them a significant blow and we should push on while the enemy is still stunned.”

  Karen said, “I agree with you in principle but my logistics aren’t prepared to support a significant amount of forward movement at this time. The port is a shambles and the route from port to here has not yet been secured. This will take time.”

  The Public Affairs officer said, “The people of the city are indifferent to our presence for now, but there is always the threat of radical elements, or just plain old criminals, who would do harm to our supply convoys through the city.”

  “Certainly.” Chief Engineer Scalama said, “We’re clearing the lanes, removing all structures and buildings within a hundred meters of the main supply route and constructing a five meter high wall along each side. The area of concern is eight kilometers of the route that passes from the port, through the city to its western gate. We’ll have that done in three weeks at the most. But for the route to remain secure there has to be regular patrols along the outside of the walls. Otherwise, the walls just become cover and concealment for the enemy.”

  Tad said, “The Northern Republic Navy has sent its Marines ashore and they are in the process of occupying Bristol. I’ll coordinate for them to provide security for that part of the route.”

  Tribunus said, “This may not be the time or place for my question, but it’s a question eating away at the back of my mind. I am curious why the Northern Republic Navy is so accommodating, so supportive of our efforts. I’m not complaining, but something just doesn’t add up.”

  Galen said, “Politics. The Northern Republic is a Democracy. Famous generals and war heroes could become political opponents for the President now in office. By hiring us for this campaign, their President effectively weakened the political standing of their general officers. But their Navy and the Admiral in command of it has a real opportunity. He will do whatever he can to support us and facilitate our success because every action he takes to help us gives him more political capitol. He can use that when he presents his case to the voters as to why he should be their next duly elected president.”

  Tribunes said, “And their current President allows this?”

  “Yes.” Galen smiled. “Their current President is serving his third six-year term and three terms is the limit. The Admiral in charge of the surface fleet supporting us is in the same political party and their current President wants to hand the Government over to him when his term expires.”

  Tribula shook his head. “Sorry I asked. Okay, back on topic. My line units are back up to full numerical strength, but since I pushed my entire casualty replacement Century forward to fill vacancies, I would like a pause of four weeks. Enough time for more casualty replacements from Langston to arrive to replenish my casualty replacement Century, and enough time for my forward units to train their casualty replacements.”

  Galen said, “That is very reasonable. I’m willing to pause for as long as six weeks. After that, it’s a ‘come as you are’ party. As Tribunus Tribula stated earlier, momentum is important. Chief Pescador, you’ve been quiet. Let’s hear what you have to say.”

  Pescador unfolded his arms and looked up at the faces around the table. “Well sir, I…” After a ten second pause he said, “I like it so far. I look forward to greater things in the future.”

  Galen said, “You were very enthusiastic about coming along on this contract. I’d like to believe I’ve given you ample opportunity to enjoy yourself.”

  Pescador’s face brightened. “Oh yes sir! It’s been awesome! I was just lost in thought there for a moment, I apologize. Yessir, me and my people are having a great time. It’s more than I’d ever hoped for.”

  Galen looked around the table and said, “He’s not a people person, but I assure you, there is no one more capable of being our fire support officer.” Smiles and assenting grunts and nods from the assembled leaders. “That brings us to our next topic, recognition. Chief Scalama, I have already seen the write-up for your troop. Could you share that with us?”

  “Sir, you have all come to expect miracles from my engineers as the standard, but I have to point out the actions of Sergeant Kim. He was in charge of the dig-out for the tunnels that allowed the Ajax tanks to destroy Bristol’s main gate and power coupling with direct fires. Before digging commenced, he crawled atop both hills and made precise measurements to ensure the tunnels were aligned correctly to allow the shots. He was under no obligation to do it, and he risked detection and exposure to enemy fire while doing so. He risked his life, sir, and without being told.”

  Galen said, “Chief Pescador, your side of that story?”

  Pescador said, “Sir, I’d used satellite survey and database maps to come up with the data for the engineers. They could have just gone with that, that’s all they were told to do. But Corporal Kim wanted to make absolutely sure and it’s a good thing he did. The two tunnels dug on the second hill would have been half a mil off. It would have made targeting the power coupling with direct fire impossible. I’d of had to target the coupling indirectly, and the couplin
g was well protected from over head fire, designed to withstand shots from warships in space. We could have breached the wall, but it would have been necessary to send in ground troops to attack the power coupling. Were it not for Kim’s actions, I believe we’d still be outside Bristol conducting a very long siege. He saved hundreds, maybe thousands, of lives.”

  “Okay,” said Galen, “that’s the kind of stories I’m looking for. Get down in the bushes and find out who are heroes are and I’ll get busy signing off on their awards. We’re near the end of my agenda so we’ll wrap this up soon. Anything else before we move on to tactical matters?”

  Sevin said, “We’ve got one very important thing to discuss.”

  Galen said, “The floor is yours.”

  “Morale, Welfare and Recreation. If we’re going to sit tight for a month and a half, our troops are going to get really bored and start acting up.”

  The Public Affairs Officer said, “What could we do in such a short time?”

  Sevin said, “For us up here at the top with the eagle-eye views of what’s going on, six weeks is a very short time and we have plenty of work to keep us busy. But look at it from the bottom up. We have troops who need a break. They just fought and they need to feel alive.”

  The Public Affairs officer said, “I don’t suppose—”

  Sevin interrupted her, “No you wouldn’t. Your husband is on this contract as well. Many of you are working with old friends and sweethearts every day. The troops, the younger ones, they don’t have that luxury. They need some recreation.”

  “And what do you have in mind?”

  “A day off. Three days, maybe, if we can swing it.”

  “Doing what?” The Public Affairs Officer put her hands on her hips.

  Sevin held his left hand up, thumb extended. “Eat in a restaurant,” he extended his left index finger, “Drink in a bar,” he extended his left middle finger, “spend time on the beach,” and then closed his fist, pumped suggestively, “and have high-performance recreational sex with a civilian they don’t know and will never see again.” He looked around and said, “All you prudes and married folks can skip that last part. Maybe you can browse a shopping center or something.”

  A murmur arose. Galen said, “Everybody shut up. Sevin has a point. We’ll work this out. Public Affairs, MWR is your lane. But I’ll give you the Chaplain and Sevin and you’ll find their assistance invaluable. Sevin.”

  “Yessir?”

  “Lieutenant Colonel Sevin, I am fully aware that you outrank Captain Melissa Scott in more ways than I can count on fingers and toes, but from now until we leave the general area of Bristol, you are working for her. Captain Scott.”

  “Yessir?”

  “Sevin has considerable expertise. If you can’t come up with a successful MWR program, I’ll have to assume you have a difficult time making the best use of your subordinates’ talents. Are we clear?”

  “Yessir.”

  “Good.” Galen folded his arms across his chest. “Memorial services for our fallen comrades. The Chaplain has them schedule for tomorrow. The Legion will be on the perimeter facing out so we’re secure. One hundred percent participation. Mandatory. Day after tomorrow, we’re on security, on the perimeter facing out so the Legion can do their memorial ceremonies. Got it?” Galen looked around, made eye contact with every leader present. “Good. If there’s nothing else, you’re dismissed.”

  Lieutenant Colonel Day raised her hand. “Sir.”

  “Yes.” Galen looked toward her. “What is it?”

  “With Sevin occupied with other duties, will the task force dissemble?”

  “Well?” Galen looked around for the Cavalry squadron commander. “Delgado?”

  Lieutenant Colonel Delgado said, “We should keep it together. It’s very effective.”

  Galen pointed at Day. “You’re now in command of that task force, to include the recon company. I don’t think Sevin will be coming back to you because I have other jobs planned for him. Go ahead and appoint a new commander for your light tank battalion.”

  She smiled, “Thank you, sir.”

  “Anyone else?” Galen stood with his hands on his hips. Silence. “Dismissed.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  In the surgical laboratory of the Batista City hospital, a technician and a doctor stood beside a tub that contained a body suspended in healing solution. They let the liquid drain away, removed tubes and wires and rinsed the body with fresh water and then dried it off. They lifted it out and laid it on a gurney, dressed it in a hospital gown and rolled it out, down the hallway and into a room, lifted it onto a hospital bed and laid the bed’s blanket up around the bodies’ shoulders. The technician checked to ensure the airway was clear. The doctor pulled a shocker from his pocket and placed it on the body’s forehead and delivered a mild charge in a frequency tuned to bring brain activity back up to normal.

  The body’s eyes opened, blinked. Breathing, then a long, loud scream. The body sat up. “What the hell? Who the hell are you?”

  The doctor spoke, “President General, you are in the hospital. You were severely injured but you’re well on your way to full recovery.”

  Theil extended his arms. “Why is my left arm pink?”

  “It’s new. Regenerated.”

  “How…how long?”

  “It’s been four weeks. There is someone here to see you.”

  “Send them, send them in.”

  The Doctor and technician left the room.

  A General in Batistian Army uniform entered and stood at attention and saluted. “President General, General Rea reports.”

  Theil returned the salute. “Keith, sit down. Relax. It’s been a long time. We’ll get re-acquainted. Tell me what’s been going on. Have we won the war yet?”

  Rea removed his hat and sat. “Sir, we lost Bristol. The mercenaries are mobilizing to push westward towards us. In two weeks, most likely.”

  Theil rubbed his face. “We can delay them, or…”

  “Or what, sir?”

  “We can let them stick their necks out, and then chop off the head.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, it’s—”

  “Very well. I’m just coming out of surgery so perhaps it’s too soon to talk about tactical matters. So how is my staff? Did Colonel Brunson survive?”

  General Rea said, “I’m sorry to inform you he did not. However, the rest of your staff is alive and well.”

  “He shoved me into the bunker, shoved the rest of the staff in as well. He was outside when the automated door closed. See that he receives our nation’s highest medal.”

  “Already taken care of, sir.”

  Theil said, “Are there any other pressing matters?”

  “Yes sir. The popularity of the war has fallen considerably amongst the ruling families. Many of our field grade and general officers have resigned their commissions. The leadership shortages are crippling our capabilities.”

  Theil said, “What about the company grade officers, the sergeants, the soldiers? Has there been an increase in desertions?”

  “No sir. Desertions are almost negligible, well below normal levels.” General Rea unbuttoned the front of his jacket and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not sure if they understand.”

  “Understand what?” Theil stood and stretched.

  “Sir, we’re losing this war. Badly.”

  “Loyalty, General. We’ll reward loyalty and that is the key to turning this war around.” Theil paced, hands behind his back as he spoke, “Allow working-class officers to fill Field Grade slots and promote them accordingly. Laterally promote non-commissioned officers to fill the vacancies, promote company First Sergeants to Captain, Platoon Sergeants to Lieutenant. And soldiers, the more senior professionals who have reenlisted beyond their initial two-year conscripted period, promote them to fill the senior NCO slots.”

  General Rea said, “Sir, that would mean allowing Formers to serve above the rank of Corporal, and would mean allowing clone descend
ants to serve above the rank of Captain. That, sir, is unheard of! The royal families will object.”

  Theil said, “I will reward loyalty. The officers and generals who resigned, you do know who they are.”

  “Yes, President General.”

  “Arrest ten percent of them. Find some pretext, arrest the ones who can be accused of some crime beyond resigning. Try to get one from each family, if possible.”

  “Sir?”

  “And for every family that objects, one of the arrested, resigned officers from that family will be shot while trying to escape. Do I make myself clear?”

  General Rea smiled. “Yes sir.”

  “Congress. What are they up to?”

  “Debating your impeachment, as usual, President General.”

  Theil said, “This is very important. You do want to win this war, don’t you, General Rea?”

  “Yes sir. It is my duty to the people of Batista.”

  Theil rubbed his hands together. “No one knows I’m out of surgery. Spread rumors that I’m still in the tub and may not survive.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And the members of Congress who are most vocal about seeing my head on a pike, see that some of them meet with an unfortunate accident.”

  “Sir?”

  “They don’t have to die, just incapacitate them for a little while, a month or two. Not too many, maybe five or six. That will send a message.”

  “Yes sir, I can make that happen.”

  Theil sat on his bed. “General Rea.”

  “Yes sir?”

  “Is there anything you want?”

  General Rea furrowed his eyebrows. “I want only to serve.”

  Theil said, “You’re the acting President General until I officially come of surgery. If there is anyone you’d like to get rid of, go ahead and include them in our little purge. If you have any old friends to reward, hand them a little more rank than perhaps their duty performances merits. Feel free to reorganize a couple of regiments or a division to suit your own purposes. Have the government plan to pay top prices to build a military barracks on a piece of otherwise worthless land that you own. Think post-war, think positive. We can win this war. What ever you want, you can have it. Your loyalty to your country will bring victory. You deserve this.”