The War for Profit Series Omnibus

by Gideon Fleisher

  Colonel Lane said, “That’s all right, let ‘em listen. While they’re standing around trying to analyze what I said, I’ll be giving them a swift kick in the ass.”

  “Makes sense. And thanks again for coming to help me out.”

  “It’s my pleasure. Lane out.”

  Sevin switched off comms. “Spike, you need some rest?”

  Spike shrugged. “Not really. I took a nap a couple hours ago.”

  “Good. Take a couple of companies of Hercules tanks and prepare to coordinate with Lane’s attack. Help him break through and see if he wants to link up after that.”

  “Gotcha.” Spike nodded and then left the command center.

  Spike climbed aboard his tank and put on his combat suit, ordered his crew to do the same. He then called the Hercules tank battalion commander and briefed him on the situation. Spike had the battalion commander release two companies from the battalion to serve directly under his command.

  They formed up near the center of town and Spike moved them south, had them maneuver amongst the buildings as close to the perimeter as they could manage without drawing fire from the Bastards outside the city.

  ***

  Galen was slumped over, head down on the table in the S-3 track extension. Tad shook his shoulder and pointed at the main status screen. It showed a live overhead feed of the battle area, the southern half of Hillsboro. “It’s happening.”

  Galen rubbed his eyes and looked. “Those Marines are crazy, Sevin is crazy. Those Bastards are in for a really bad day.”

  Tad said, “This fight will be over before sunrise.”

  “I hope so. I’m escorting the ambassador into the capitol after breakfast.” Galen put his head back down. “Bastards don’t know when to give up.”

  ***

  Colonel Lane sighted his laser range finder on a battery of Batistian flak guns and sent the grid to his assault gun battery. “Hey redleg, blow that shit up.”

  The assault guns stopped, fired eighteen klicks. The battery of flack guns fired defensively at the incoming artillery rounds. Then a round got through, destroyed a flack gun. Then another. After three minutes the defensive capability of the flack guns was degraded to the point they no longer hit incoming rounds. The air defense battery was destroyed, the vehicles burning. Colonel Lane surveyed the target area. A handful of soldiers still moved, dragging injured comrades away from the dangers around them.

  The assault gun commander called back, “We have no air assets inbound. Why’d we blow up their air defense?”

  “Because now they think we do have air assets inbound. Why are you questioning my orders?”

  “Do it first, ask questions later.”

  “Hoorah! You’re all right in my book, redleg.”

  “Hoorah!”

  Colonel Lane called his medium tank battalion commander. “I see two companies of enemy tanks right in front of you about five klicks, dug in facing away from you. You have the opportunity to rip them a new ass. Nothing’s stopping you.”

  The Medium tank battalion commander said, “Err!”

  The Marine medium tanks charged ahead and despite taking fire from dug-in Bastard tanks, they held their fire. When they were within five hundred meters the lead tank hit a mine, kept rolling to hit two more. Before the ejected crew had floated to the ground, another tank rammed into the back of the disabled tank and pushed it across the mine field, setting off mines as it went. Then no more mines. One company of tanks stopped on line and lit up targets. Couldn’t miss at that range. The other two companies charged through the mine field, following the tracks of the tanks that had already gone through.

  Soon they were beyond the defenders. The two lead tank companies faced right and began rolling up the flank of the defenders. The company that had been providing supporting fire came through the mine field path and faced left to prevent a counterattack from that direction. The Batistian left flank was then attacked by Spike and his two companies of Hercules tanks.

  Colonel Lane called a halt and the tanks stopped, took occasional shots at targets of opportunity. But that fight was over. “Button up, Marines. I want their red leg to drop a few rounds on you, to give away their position. Then you can haul ass back out of there.”

  “Hoorah!”

  Colonel Lane had his light infantry prepared to move on their skimmers, prepared to close with and destroy the Bastian artillery as soon as it showed itself. But that didn’t happen. General Rea called him on the unsecure ULF channel.

  “Colonel Lane, this is General Rea. Cease fire and we will withdraw.”

  Colonel Lane said, “Ground you gear and I’ll let you walk out of here. You can keep your gun belts and side arms if you want.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “March your boys off to Batista City if you would, please, General.”

  “Will comply. General Rea out.”

  Colonel Lane ordered a general cease fire. Spike went along with it and moved his heavy tanks back to the center of Hillsboro.

  Sevin called Lane and said, “What the hell was that? You must have taken more than twenty percent casualties.”

  Colonel Lane said, “That’s how it’s done, Junior. A few minutes ago those Bastards were nothing but civilians with war gear. Now they’re just civilians.”

  Sevin said, “Their equipment has to be secured before some kids decide to play on it and get themselves killed.”

  Lane said, “All right, Sevin. You just sit tight and I’ll take care of it. I’ll police up all their wounded and dead too.”

  “Right. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “I know that. Colonel Lane out.”

  ***

  Galen stood, looked at the status screen. Shook his head, left the S-3 track extension and took a shower and put on a clean uniform. He sat at a table by the chuck wagon and waited for the Northern Republic ambassador. They would ride together into Batista City.

  Chapter Twenty Five

  The Ambassador from the Northern Republic was a tall, sturdy woman with fair skin and straight coppery hair parted on the right and cut to a length that let it hang to the top of the collar of her white jacket. Her gray eyes had a hint of blue, a piercing gaze offset by lips that smiled even when her face relaxed. She had high cheekbones and a chin with a soft cleft, almost small enough to be a dimple. Galen liked her, liked walking behind her, and liked her black knee-length skirt as she stepped into the back of her executive skimmer. He sat next to her. The skimmer was a heavy one, an enclosed interior area discreetly protected by armor that allowed the vehicle to look like a fine luxury hovercraft.

  She turned to Galen and said, “Have you thought about your role here?”

  The convoy began moving toward Batista City. A tactical skimmer was out front, followed by a light tank, then the Ambassador’s skimmer, with a light tank behind. Galen said, “I try not to.”

  “You could be the military governor until Batista’s government gets on its feet.”

  Galen smiled. “Don’t you have people for that?”

  “Hardly.”

  “Ambassador—”

  “Please, cal me Julia.”

  “Julia. You have Colonel Walker. I’m sure he’d be glad to take the job.”

  Julia laughed. “He’d exterminate half the royal families!”

  Galen looked forward. “My contract clearly states that my obligation ended when I captured Batista City. I’m ready to go home now.”

  She said, “You’ve only been here four months. We expected you to be here for at least a year. I’d really like for you to stay longer. Now that the war’s over, it shouldn’t be too hard to convince you.” She placed her hand on Galen’s knee.

  He gently lifted her hand away, held it for a moment and released it. “I don’t think my marriage would survive that long, working with you.”

  “Your wife isn’t here?”

  “She is. She’s the Brigade logistics officer.”

  “Oh.” Julia folded her arms across her chest
. “Supposing I agree that the terms of your current contract have been met, what would it take to keep your Brigade here for another eight months?”

  Galen said, “That’s not entirely up to me. My troops, the Legion soldiers, they fought hard, took on additional risks, to win sooner rather than later. They want to get back home. They aren’t robots, you know. They have full lives when they aren’t deployed, families that love them and want them home. I have twin boys missing their father and mother right now.”

  The convoy passed through the main gate of the city. Armored vehicles still lined the boulevard, spaced at fifty meter intervals, but the civilian gawkers were gone. Julia said, “This Boulevard could use a good cleaning.”

  “I agree. But that’s none of my concern. Once you secure a peace treaty—”

  “You leave. I know. Would you consider moving your unit to the Northern Republic?”

  Galen looked her in the eyes. She was serious. “You mean, make Fairgotten the home world of the Jasmine Panzer Brigade?”

  “You could expand. We’ll give you a land grant, a large facility, what ever you need. Imagine: the Jasmine Armored Division, General Raper commanding. The sound of it.” She smiled, looked a bit like a mink, or a fox.

  Galen said, “That’s something I’d have to work out with my board of directors and the Bonding Commission on Ostreich. It’s not really up to me.”

  “What would you say if it were entirely up to you?”

  Galen said, “I’d say no because it would completely disrupt hundreds of lives.”

  The convoy stopped at the base of the steps of the capitol building. The Ajax tanks were still there but now faced away from the capitol building. Julia said, “You could leave the Brigade on Mandarin and build a new unit here. In the Northern Republic, I mean.”

  “I’ll think about it, about everything you said. I’ll discuss it with my people.”

  A guard opened the door and Julia stepped out. Galen dismounted and walked on her left. He noticed she was at least a centimeter taller than him. He looked down at the shiny black pumps on her feet. Tall…

  They ascended the stairs and Batistian guards in fancy uniforms opened the doors and they strode in. A wide vestibule led into an even wider hall and the doors to the Senate chamber were at the end. Two more guards opened those doors. They stepped inside and an usher led them immediately to the right and walked around the circular floor arrayed with chairs half-filled with Batistian senators. They kept going and the usher directed them to sit behind the Prime Minister.

  He stood addressing the assembled legislators and then introduced the Ambassador, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I present Ambassador Julia Gillard of the Northern Republic.”

  He stepped aside and Julia stepped up to the lectern and opened a folder and spent the next eight minutes reading the peace treaty. She then sat and the Prime Minister stood and called for a voice vote for ratification. A senator from the floor objected and moved to have copies distributed to all senators present, and then asked for a one hour recess to study the document before voting. The Prime Minister asked for a voice vote to approve that motion, and Galen fell asleep in his chair.

  Julia nudged him awake. All the senators were gone. Julia said, “You can go now, sleep in my car if you’d like.”

  Galen stood and stretched and mumbled, “Don’t have to tell me twice,” and then he walked outside and got in her car and lay out on the back seat. The chauffer gave him a blanket and a pillow.

  ***

  Julia shook Galen’s shoulder. He sat up and slid over and Julia sat next to him. She smiled and said, “All done, war’s over.”

  Galen said, “The pen is truly mightier than the sword. Mind if I take a peek?”

  She handed a folder to him. He opened it and read the peace treaty. “What?”

  Julia said, “Is something wrong?”

  “You gave away the store. You’re paying them for the territories that broke away from them and then later joined your Republic by their own choice. And you are paying a lot, over twelve thousand kilograms of gold. And the three northern provinces of Batista, your army conquered the better part of all three of them and you’re giving all that territory back, and this!” Galen pointed at a paragraph on the third page.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Your government is assuming the debts owed by the Batistian government to private citizens of the Northern Republic. That’s just crazy.”

  Julia frowned. “What’s so crazy about that?”

  Galen closed the folder and handed it back. “Your citizens lent money to the enemy, that enemy was defeated and can’t repay the loans, so now you pay the money back yourself, to your own treasonous citizens. That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard of.”

  Julia smiled, “That’s politics.”

  The convoy left the city. Galen said, “Their brand-new government just received a massive infusion of cash.”

  “Yes. And as military governor, you will have considerable control over how that money gets spent.”

  Galen said, “You’d trust me with that?”

  Julia said, “I’ve read the dossier we have on you and your people. You’ve been a planetary governor before; running one little country should be less of a challenge. We think you’d be fair enough, not too partial. You are our best choice right now.”

  “Give me a week to think it over.”

  She smiled, “So you’re staying a week beyond the obligations of your contract. That’s good.”

  “I have the Legion’s concerns to consider, and my own troops, and beyond all that there’s a hard-headed Marine Colonel out there who I’m sure thinks he won the war all by himself and wants to be the military governor real bad. It’s a lot to chew on.”

  “I understand.” They reached the S-3 track. “Think about it, take as long as you like.”

  Galen dismounted from her skimmer and stood and watched it leave the area. He entered the track extension and Tad asked, “How’d it go, boss?”

  “It’s official. This war is over.”

  Tad smiled. “Great! I’ll get started on a move order to get us the hell out of here!”

  “Not so fast. Schedule command and staff call for tomorrow morning and get the dome set up so we’ll have room for it. Tell them to wear their thinking caps because I have more questions than answers. And put out the word, we’re staying put for one more week at least.”

  Tad said nothing out loud but he did think ‘damn it’ so loud inside his head that Galen could see it on his face.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Galen Raper entered the dome and said, “Keep your seats,” and stood at the head of the table and sat. “I hope you all enjoyed breakfast.” Nods all around. “The reason I called you here today is because I have a lot of questions that only you can answer. Keep in mind that it’s not a matter of right and wrong answers, those I can handle with a little help from my staff. These are matters that affect each and every one of you, all our troops and the Legion soldiers, each in a different way. What I’m about to play for you is audio from my personal communicator, excerpts from conversations I had yesterday with the Northern Republic ambassador. Listen, and then we’ll discuss it.” Galen played the recordings, waited for responses.

  Lieutenant Colonel Sevin raised his hand, “I’ll do it, sir.”

  Galen said, “Which part?”

  “I’ll stay behind and be the Governor.”

  Tad said, “You’ll need troops.”

  Sevin said, “We can ask for volunteers. We’ve met the obligations of our current contract, so we can now negotiate a new one and offer the volunteers who stay behind a share of it.”

  Tribula said, “My soldiers can not stay behind. Allowing such a thing exceeds the limits of my authority. I respectfully point out, my Legion needs to head home as soon as is reasonably possible.”

  Galen said, “I understand your situation and my duty to facilitate your timely departure. I won’t hold you back.”

&
nbsp; Tribula nodded.

  Sevin said, “Sir, if I may, can we talk one on one? It won’t take more than a minute.”

  Galen looked around. “I’ll be right back. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves.” He stood and walked outside with Sevin, fifty meters away from the dome. “What’s this about?”

  Sevin reached into his pocket and pulled out a spool of insulated wire and handed it to Galen. “Check it out. That wire is made of gold.”

  Galen said, “I’m impressed. Is it for some specialized application?”

  “Nope. We had a whole case of it, shipped in from the Northern Republic as regular old wire.” Sevin reached deep into his right side pocket and pulled out a handful of expended rounds, 20 mm machine gun bullets with rifling marks on the sides and mashed tips. “I found these lying around in the target areas of the Republic Marines.”

  Galen examined the bullets. Steel jackets. “So?”

  Sevin pulled a multi-tool from his gun belt and used the wire cutter to nip off the end of one bullet and handed it to Galen. “The core is gold.”

  Galen scratched his head. “Are you sure?”

  “I had the chief engineer test it. Pure gold.”

  Galen said, “What do you think it means?”

  Sevin said, “It means the Northern Republic has so much gold they make bullets out of it. It means that if word gets out, everybody and their brother will want to come here and take that gold, by force. These people need some serious help with their defense.”

  Galen took a deep breath, let it out. “Okay. You can stay and be the governor.”

  Sevin said, “After that contract is up, I’ll cash out of the Brigade. Then I’ll set up a mercenary division based in the Republic.”

  “Sure. Okay, let’s make this happen. How much support are you going to need from me?”

  Sevin said, “Leave me…about a battalion and a half worth of troops and equipment. Six companies, one of each type should do. A third of your Brigade, if you can spare it. It’ll be enough to support me as Governor of Batista City, and then form the core of my new Division. I’ll pay you well.”