Tribula brought his support Century forward and occupied the parade ground of the fortress. Hundreds of injured soldiers were brought out for medical care, and some dead. And the defenders, their bodies were tagged and bagged and lined up, three rows of a hundred each, and another sixteen in a fourth row. The Legion had thirty three dead; Tribula had expected more but was grateful for the lighter-than-expected losses.
Tribula’s driver pointed up at the roof of the fortress and said, “Sir, there’s someone up there.”
Tribula looked up. A Batistian military academy cadet was at the highest point of the roof, unarmed and bare-headed. He took down the flag of Batista, wrapped it around himself and jumped off the roof. He hit the ground near the lines of dead Batistian soldiers. Tribula walked over and looked. It was a young man, an older boy really, who looked about fourteen years old. Two Legion soldiers removed the flag, lifted the body into a body bag and wrote “317” on it and carried it to the end of the fourth row of bodies.
Tribula took the flag and draped it flat over the body bag. Phase two of the operation was complete. It was almost midnight, local time. Tribula called up to higher, “Jasmine Six, this is Legion Six. We’re secure. I’m passing operational control back to you at this time.”
“Roger. Jasmine Six out.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Spike, Tad and Galen stood in the extension of the S-2 track and listened while Koa pointed at his main status screen and spoke, “Gentlemen, the Batistian army has a division on the march toward Hillsboro. My best guess is they will be in range to launch an attack some time near sunrise, day after tomorrow.”
Galen pointed toward the northern edge of the screen. “What’s that?”
“That, sir, is the suspected location of the forces that fled the battle at the canyon. It amounts to a reinforced armored battalion, a little light on infantry but still packs a respectable punch. Two medium and two light tank companies and a mechanized infantry company as well. Those are approximate estimates based on drone flyovers, about 80% accurate.”
“Close enough.” Galen clasped his hands behind his back and studied the map on the screen.
Tad said, “What about Hillsboro? Sevin can’t hold against that.”
Spike said, “I can lead the Hercules tanks there in time to set up a defense.”
Galen said, “Go. Go now. Report to Sevin. And take the battery of assault guns.”
Spike left.
Tad said, “We need to attack the flank of that division as it closes on Hillsboro. That’s when we’ll be able to inflict the most losses on them.”
Galen stepped back and folded his arms across his chest and said, “Have you read out unit contract?”
“Yes.”
Galen looked down. “It clearly states that we are here to capture Batista City and hold it for three weeks or until the Northern Republic comes to terms with Batista, whichever comes first.”
Tad pointed at the map. “Those are our people.”
Galen looked up. “They’ll be fine. Karen will be fine. The heaviest Batistian tank is just barely heavy enough to be classified as a heavy tank; they are no match for our Hercules tanks. And there are units there in Hillsboro besides the ALOC. The light infantry battalion, they are there along with all the vehicles that have been repaired and troops who have healed up. There’s even a platoon’s worth of Legion soldiers who have healed enough to fight. The best the Batistian armored division can hope to accomplish is putting Hillsboro under siege.”
Koa said, “The Northern Republic forces have begun a general push southward in the three provinces to the north. The movement of the Batistian armored division toward Hillsboro has emboldened them.”
Galen said, “I think that the Bastian armored division is the last of their reserves. This war is nearly over. We only have to wait for their government to negotiate terms with the Republic and our job is complete. And then there is Sevin, in charge of Hillsboro. I pity any fool who picks a fight with Sevin.”
They heard the sound of Hercules tanks leaving the area. Tad said, “I hope we’re doing the right thing.”
Galen said, “Major Koa, thank you for this timely information. Tad, let’s go over to your track and get this final attack on Batista City started.”
They left, walked about fifty meters and entered the S-3 track extension.
Tad called up the Stallion tank battalion commander, “Stallion Six, this is Jasmine Three. At your discretion.”
“Roger, Jasmine three. Moving into position, will breach within the hour.”
“Jasmine Three out.”
***
The entire Stallion tank battalion, all fifty six tanks, lined up hub to hub and faced the main gate from two hundred meters away. They fired their laser cannons on charge eight and blasted away the span above the gate and continued to blast away at the gate itself, knocking off a meter of gate material with each volley. After a couple of minutes, all that remained was a meter-high layer of smoldering rubble between the gate’s left and right support columns.
The five tanks in the center moved up to the gate and eased forward through it to the other side of the wall. Two tanks moved to face to the right and two faced left and the Battalion Commander’s tank pulled forward fifty meters and parked on the right side of the thirty meter wide boulevard facing ahead. The remaining tanks pulled forward in a column of twos spaced twenty meters apart, an interval of one hundred meters between them. Infantry carriers from the Mech battalion joined the columns, two carriers behind each tank. The Cavalry squadron followed. Jasmine Panzer Brigade vehicles lined the street on both sides.
A thin line of civilians, ashen-faced and somber, stood on the sidewalks and watched the armored vehicles drive past. The column moved forward until its lead element reached the Senate, a domed building at the end of the wide boulevard.
Galen put on his peaked commander’s cap and combat vest and strapped on his gun belt and climbed up on the lead Ajax tank. The five Ajax tanks moved past the gate and slowed to a walking pace. Galen raised the seat all the way and looked left and right. The somber eyes of the civilians looked up, defeat on their faces. But curiosity made them look, made them see the biggest tanks to ever travel along that boulevard. More people slowly made their way to the sidewalks to see the conquering army for themselves. At the end of the three kilometer long boulevard stood the capitol building. The street then came to a ‘T’ with another wide street that led to the Judiciary building a kilometer to the left, the Presidential Palace a kilometer to the right.
The five Ajax tanks parked on line facing the thirty meter wide steps of the capitol building, fifty steps up to the entrance doors at its front. They parked and waited. Galen turned on the external loud speakers of the Ajax and said, “Somebody come out and talk to me.”
A silver-haired old man wearing an expensive but conservative suit came out and descended the steps, moving with a bit of a gimp. He stopped at the base of the stairs and waited. Galen climbed down and stood in front of him. He was taller than Galen by five centimeters at least. His pallid face was blank, but for a slight frown. He said, “What do you want?”
Galen said, “Your unconditional surrender.”
The old man said, “I’m not sure I have that authority.”
“You are from the Senate, correct?”
“I am Senator Milton Frederick Rothschild. But matters such as these rest with the Presidency.”
Galen cleared his throat. “By the authority vested in me as the commander of the forces that conquered your capitol city, I declare that the sovereignty of Batista rests with the Senate and I appoint you as the Prime Minister. Now go convene a quorum, form a government and be prepared to negotiate a lasting peace with the Northern Republic’s ambassador. He or she will be here no later than tomorrow morning.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Galen pulled a folder from inside his combat vest, opened it to reveal a document. “Here it is, in writing.”
&nb
sp; The old man took the folder and read the document.
Galen handed him an ink stick. “Fill in your name where it says ‘Prime Minster’ and sign it at the bottom and hand it back to me.”
He did. Galen signed as well and then pulled off the back copy of the document and handed it to the Prime Minster. The newly-appointed Prime Minster turned and ascended the stairs and went back inside the capitol building.
Galen’s command tank, a Hercules, came forward. Galen climbed up into his cupola and sat down, lowered the seat and checked the auxiliary status screen. The Batistian armored division was approaching Hillsboro, split into three groups. One moved to close the National Road to the East of Hillsboro, one to the West and one moved to straddle the road heading south out of Hillsboro. A siege. Galen was glad; no combat yet. He also noticed the approach of a Northern Republic Marine brigade toward Hillsboro, already passing through the canyon.
The Hercules looked puny compared to Ajax tanks. Galen told his driver, “Pivot around and take me back to the S-3 track.”
The Hercules carried Galen out of the city, drove twenty kilometers to the TOC location and parked next to Tad’s track. Galen climbed down and went inside the extension.
Tad said, “You look awful.”
Galen sat in a metal chair and stared at the main status screen. “I need a drink.”
Tad handed him an ice-cold bottle of ale.
Galen stared at the screen and drank.
Chapter Twenty Three
Northern Republic Marine Colonel Joseph Lane stood in front of his lightly armored, open-topped, four wheeled command car and watched the last vehicles of his Brigade as they left the western end of the canyon. He got back in his vehicle commander’s seat and told his driver, “I don’t care what you have to do, get me in front of this convoy.”
The driver sped along the left lane, swerved onto the left shoulder when necessary to avoid hitting oncoming traffic. They were catching up to the midpoint of the convoy when Colonel Lane heard voice traffic from the advance party, a company of light tanks sent to scout ahead. “We have enemy forces staged in Peebles, a village twenty five klicks northeast of Hillsboro.”
Colonel Lane checked his battle map screen. His main force could reach Peebles in less than half an hour. He keyed his comms and spoke, “Captain Walker, this is Colonel Lane. What are you looking at?”
“It’s a battalion of tanks. Some medium and some light. A little infantry.”
“And what are you going to do, Captain?”
“We’re outnumbered, sir.”
The Colonel smiled and said, “What do Marines do when they’re outnumbered?”
“They attack until they aren’t outnumbered.”
“Roger. I’m coming to help you out, be there in half an hour.”
***
Captain Walker lined his light tank company up in a wedge with his own tank at the point. Then he led the charge into Peebles, right straight down the main street. They surprised the Batistian soldiers. Parked vehicles, enemy crews scrambling to get back inside their tanks. The Marines mowed down soldiers, easy targets for their cupola and coaxial machine guns. The light tank’s main guns, slug throwers that used liquid propellant, caught medium tanks in the flank and destroyed them. Light tanks as well as light skinned vehicles, and buildings along the street, the Marine tankers shot at all of it. They blew through the town and turned around to run through again, down another street a block to the west.
Captain Walker stood high in his cupola and looked left and right. Two of his own tanks down so far, not bad at all. He led the charge for the second thunder run and sprayed machine gun fire at anything that didn’t look like a Marine. The Batistian soldiers fled the town and assembled behind a low hill to the northeast.
General Theil rallied his soldiers behind the hill and assessed the situation and realized it was just a company of light tanks. He led two companies of medium tanks in a counterattack, a slow and deliberate move, engaging the Marines at standoff range. That put an end to their running rampant though the town. Theil’s gunner identified the Marine light tank with the most commo gear on its outside and carefully aimed and put a round square in the base of its turret.
Captain Walker was ejected, his tank destroyed. After he was on the ground he stood and fired at the Batistian tanks with his side arm, then was knocked down by a burst of machine gun fire. His driver crawled over and dragged him to cover, lifted him onto his shoulders and ran back into the relative safety of a construction yard. The four remaining Marine tanks moved into the yard and set up a defense.
Colonel Lane approached Peebles from the south, eight assault guns right behind his command car. He stood up on his seat and yelled at the nearest gun chief, “Hey, you want to stop here and do some indirect fire?”
The gun chief yelled back, “Hell no! I like to see what I’m killing!”
Colonel Lane waved his right hand forward, the signal for the assault guns to go ahead of him. Infantry carriers were next and Colonel Lane ordered them to catch up to the guns and dismount and provide infantry support. He then stopped and halted a battalion of medium tanks and climbed up the glacis plate of the first one.
He told the tank commander, “You and your battalion are going past this town on the left side and past the hill beyond and you are going to go behind that hill and start killing. Then get up on top of that hill facing the town. You understand me?”
“Hoorah!”
Colonel Lane jumped off the tank and rolled onto his shoulder and stood and sprinted to his car and jumped back in his seat. He studied the battle map and smiled. “Get us in close, driver. Get me inside the Light Tank Company’s position in that construction yard.”
The driver sped down the main street and veered right to avoid hitting an assault gun and swerved to miss hitting a dismount and slid sideways, coming to a stop right next to a light tank. Colonel Lane dismounted and yelled, “Where’s Captain Walker?”
A Marine ran up to him and said, “Over here,” and jogged away. Colonel Lane followed and was shown the body of the Captain, who had just died moments before. The battle raged on for another twenty minutes. The Bastian force was soundly beaten, a mere four vehicles able to speed away to the northwest. One was a medium tank. General Theil sat low in its cupola, hatch closed, gritting his teeth. The gunner pressed a dressing tight against the three closely-spaced bullet wounds in the left side of his chest.
Colonel Lane stood at the edge of town and yelled at the dust trail left by the retreating vehicles. “When you see a Marine you better run or it’ll be the last thing you ever see!”
His driver brought his command car to his side and Colonel Lane sat and looked at reports. He then keyed comms and said, “Leaders, Major and above, come see me.” They came running, an assembled group of fourteen field grade officers. Colonel Lane looked around, looked into faces. “Gentlemen, that’s how it’s done. But I lost a close and dear friend today and it really hurt my feelings. Give these civilians thirty minutes to get out of my town. Then we’re burning it to the ground because I’m sure there are a few Bastard soldiers hiding here, waiting for us to leave so they can go crying back to their mommas. We don’t have time to mop up properly; I want to break the siege on Hillsboro today.”
The officers answered in unison, “Hoorah!” and jogged off to their respective commands. The marines got their dead and wounded sorted out and loaded up. A line of refugees left Peebles, headed east with what few possessions they could carry in their hands. The Marine brigade assembled west of the town and the assault guns laid a pattern of incendiary rounds over the town and it burned with yellow and orange flames feeding a thick column of black smoke. The Marines then moved toward Hillsboro to break the siege.
Chapter Twenty Four
Sevin entered the command center to relieve Spike. “Anything interesting happen while I was off shift?”
Spike said, “Check this out.”
Sevin looked at the main status screen. The imag
e from a sensor mast showed a column of dark smoke in the distance. “Where’s that?”
“It’s what’s left of a village, about twenty five klicks northeast of here.” Spike searched, found time-stamped video feed from a probe circling high above that area. “I really need to pay closer attention. There was battle there, one that lasted less than an hour. The Northern Republic relief forces smashed Theil’s battalion when they found it camped out in that town.” Spike replayed the highlights of the battle, as viewed from above.
Sevin said, “I like their style.”
Spike said, “They’re moving to break the siege, looks like they want to come in from the south.”
“Have you called them?”
Spike shook his head ‘no.’ “I don’t want to use comms too soon, might give the Bastards a hint that something’s up.”
Sevin said, “Yep. But the south? I need to ask the Republic Marines why they’re doing that. Coming in from the north would be much better.”
A Sergeant said, “Sir, I’ve isolated their command channel and busted their encryption. You can talk to them now.”
“Thank you.” Sevin keyed comms and said, “Colonel Lane, this is Sevin. You read me?”
“Hey Sevin, good to hear from you again. Just sit tight and we’ll have you liberated in no time.”
Sevin said, “If you don’t mind me asking, don’t you think another angle of attack might be better?”
“No. It’s always better to attack from the south.”
“Why is that?” Sevin scratched his head.
“Because,” said Colonel Lane, “when you orient your map to the terrain, it’s still right side up!”
“I gotcha. Be advised, this channel is probably not secure. My guy cracked it in less than a minute.”
The War for Profit Series Omnibus Page 84