When Lek finished, the fire commissioner asked if he’d mind dropping by his office. Lek promised he would, then found a seat by the door and settled down to meditate on his black box.
No one suggested he leave.
The police commissioner had given over the head of the table to the professor, now president elect, pending a swearing in that had yet to be scheduled. Since Savannah’s record for swearing in new chief executives was kind of sparse, there was no set date in their law.
Trouble hoped it would be real soon.
The police commissioner stood and spoke without preamble. “We have a problem. The fire commissioner and I have known we had a potential problem for some time. After last night, it’s clear that it is a real one. The Army,” he said, with finality.
“What kind of an Army did Milassi pay for?” Trouble asked. He was junior here, and likely the least informed, but it might help if they were all singing from the same page.
“The 1st Corps at Camp Milassi is the only major force on this planet,” the police commissioner said. “It has an armored division and a mechanized infantry division. But that is only part of our problem.”
“I would have thought,” General Ray Longknife said, “that a pair of heavy divisions would be enough of a problem.”
“There is the dam,” the fire commissioner said. “The Anna River is dammed about thirty klicks upstream from Petrograd. And only fifteen klicks from the camp. The Army regularly patrols the reservoir. Good training, I was told.”
“And the problem is?” Becky Graven said.
“If they opened the slush gates and emptied the reservoir, this city could be washed away.
“That’s one way of canceling the results of an election,” Trouble said dryly. “Cancel the voters.”
“The word we have is that the commanders of the 1st Corps are considering marching their tanks into town and declaring for Whitebred. He’s in touch with them from his safe perch in the station above. He wants them to roll in and take over. Civilians are not much good against tanks.”
“Light infantry is,” Trouble said, grinning wide.
“Yes, there is that,” the police commissioner said. “If Milassi had still been here, we figured he’d have rolled the Army into town a week before the election and had a tank at every voting station. Instead, Milassi’s dead, and you’re here, and your Marines gave the Army a black eye. Then came voting time, and there was a peacekeeper at every polling station.”
“I think matters got away from Whitebred,” the fireman said.
“So why this sudden interest in making sure I don’t get sworn in?” the future president, maybe, said.
The head cop looked pained. “For most problems, Milassi had the Special Police, damn them to hell. They pretty much raped, stole, and killed to their hearts’ content and Milassi’s courts protected them. Now they’re facing a higher judgment, and what they did here is well past accounting for. However, the Army was on call whenever extra heads needed breaking. And things done while the Army was in town on Milassi’s business were wrong but didn’t make it into court. Reports were written up if someone complained, but they went nowhere.”
“Nowhere, but up in smoke last night,” the fireman said, taking up the story. “That’s why both the Justice Building and the Interior Ministry had to burn. Oh, and they were burned to the ground. Burned and blown up we can now officially say.”
“So you have no records?” Becky said.
“But that doesn’t mean that we have no witnesses,” the police commissioner said.
And heads nodded around the table.
“So suddenly, the scum that did the bidding of those in power are fearing for their necks,” General Ray Longknife said. “Those not having a bed on the liner out of here are suddenly very interested in who is appointing judges and controlling the courts.”
“That’s it in a nutshell. They could roll in here and take over, but your Marines made that option look less an easy bet than last month. Or they could just open the dam and flood everything down here. Then they’d have no one to stop them from driving in and picking up what few pieces are left.”
“It wouldn’t be much,” the fire commissioner said, “but they’d be king of all they surveyed.”
“Better to rule in hell than face a judge in heaven,” Trouble misquoted Milton.
“Precisely.”
Trouble’s commlink buzzed. He glanced at it. “Excuse me, folks, but I left Gunny at the city jail with all those soldiers puking their guts out. What with stuff happening to that jail’s inmates, I figured a few of us should keep an eye on our fellow troopers.”
“Good idea,” General Ray Longknife said through a knowing grin.
Trouble listened for a long minute, then reported to General Longknife. “Gunny is facing down a major from the 3rd Motorized Rifles Brigade demanding the release of his soldiers. Anyone want to bet that if we let them go home to sober up, we’ll next see them over the sights of their infantry fighting vehicles?”
“No bet, Captain,” the general said, standing. “Captain, I’d be grateful if you would tell the major that his people will have to stay a while until we get a full accounting of any property damaged or civilians assaulted. I’m assuming our Marines, Highlanders, and Grenadiers gave as good as they got.”
“Better, sir. I don’t think these guys pay all that attention to their PT or hand-to-hand training.”
“Not a good reflection on their officer,” General Ray Longknife said. “Now, Mr. President, since there is, at present, no formal and recognized government on Savannah, I will consult with the commanders of my peacekeepers about what we will do about this problem.”
“Should I be sworn in immediately?” the professor asked.
“I’d prefer that you didn’t, sir,” General Ray Longknife said. “There may be some blood on the ground before the evening is done, and I think it would be better if it was only on the hands of offworlders, not people who have to stay here and live together.”
“That sounds ominous,” the professor said.
“Yes, but I expect that it will be mainly for those out there in the cantonment.”
Trouble stood. He measured General Ray Longknife and liked what he saw. The man had his game face on: hard, firm, unbending. Their stance was the same. Trouble was glad the man was on his side. He’d hate to face this man from across a battlefield.
They exited the building the way they had come. Trouble took one of the embassy’s SUVs to the jail. He refused the major’s insistent demands to have his men turned over to his custody. He did invite the major to tour the facilities with him to assure that his men were being well cared for.
Five minutes in the stink of their drunken filth, and the major cut short his inspection and left.
Trouble relieved Gunny and the others on jail duty, after making it clear to the prison superintendent that those were soldiers, not civilians, and that he and his guards would answer to the Marines for any harm that came to them. That included harm from other prisoners or from anyone else that dropped in and took a disliking to a trooper.
“There will be courts to settle up any claims against these men.”
Trouble doubted anyone had ever expressed quite that level of concern for prisoners, and certainly that level of personal payback.
The superintendent assured Trouble the soldiers would be well cared for. And kept behind bars.
Trouble and Gunny headed back to the embassy. On the way there, they passed Highlanders headed out of town toward the 1st Corps’ camp.
“General Longknife doesn’t waste any time, does he, Skipper?” Gunny observed.
“You got to like that in a man. You see to getting the troops mounted up and ready to go. Issue all the antitank rockets we got. I’ll go see what the elephants are screaming about.”
Gunny grinned, saluted, and went to do Trouble’s bidding.
Trouble squared his shoulders . . . and marched for another damn meeting.
S
IXTY-EIGHT
THE MEETING WAS in full swing and heavily attended by the time Trouble arrived.
It was in the basement, surrounded by the intel analysts at their stations. Once in a while, one spook would bring a report to the duty chief at the table, who’d pass it along to Becky, then General Ray Longknife.
The table in front of them now showed an orbital image of Camp Milassi. As Trouble found an empty chair, the image was updated. A column of tanks, some fifty strong, were rolling out of the camp. No infantry went with them.
“These guys really don’t learn, do they?” Trouble said. “Tanks without infantry to protect them are dead meat.”
Across the table from him, the general nodded in agreement. “Colonel Wallace, will your company from the 2nd Highlanders be in place to stop them?”
“With an hour to spare,” the colonel said, his Scottish brogue thick enough you’d need a dirk to cut it. “But if you don’t mind a wee bit, I’ll be getting another company up the road to back them up.”
“Good idea,” General Ray Longknife said.
“Where is their infantry?” Trouble asked.
“Going into defensive mode,” Ray said, and the map zoomed in on a mountain between the camp and the city. “Apparently someone thinks digging his infantry in on Black Mountain, backed up with artillery, will hold the camp. Then he can use tank runs into town to terrorize the locals.”
“Those tanks are no going to town,” Colonel Wallace promised.
“But there’s more where they came from,” the general said, “and if we don’t do something about them, sooner or later someone is going to read Modern Combat for Dummies and figure out that tanks need infantry as much as infantry need tanks. Present company excepted,” he got out quickly before the scowls of the light infantrymen around the table got too deep.
“I’ll just leave this thing to you gentlemen,” the FSO said. “Until a couple of days ago, I never would have expected infantry to take out tanks, but I, at least, can learn when you rub my face in it.”
“Tanks and infantry work together in a game of paper, rock, and scissors,” General Ray Longknife told the diplomat. “What would kill infantry, the tanks kill. What would kill tanks, the infantry kill. Long-range artillery, now that’s a problem.”
“There are a whole lot of guns in that camp,” Colonel Stewart said.
“What’s the forecast for tonight?”
The duty lead spook snapped his fingers, and an update was delivered five seconds later. “It seems that those high clouds last night did portend a change. There is a chain of thunderstorms headed this way. By late evening, we should be treated to thunder, lightning, rain, hail, and torrential downpours.”
Becky shivered. “A good night to stay home,” then paused as she took in the looks of the light infantrymen around the table.
“Or to go dancing,” Colonel Stewart said. He turned to Trouble. “You Marines up to a bit of a ball?”
“We’ll fill up your dance card, you lovely Ladies from Hell.”
The Highland colonel frowned. “We’ll see who’s leading when the night is done.”
“No doubt,” Trouble said, grinning, “we’ll be leading together, and pity the poor ones who need to hitch a ride to a good fight.”
The colonel slapped the Marine captain on the back. “Good man. Good man.”
“I’m not sure I can spare any more good men for you,” General Ray Longknife said. “Wallace, I want your battalion to form a blocking force to keep the tanks both in camp and out of the rear of the 4th and the Marines.”
“What about me?” Colonel DeGrasse of the 1st Grenadiers asked.
“I hate to say it, Gus, but we’ve got to keep your men in town to back up the cops. Things may get wild tonight.”
“May I mount up a company of reserves, sir, just in case they get in trouble out in the boondocks?”
“You may, Colonel, but don’t count on motor transport. Captain Trouble, does Izzy have an electromagnetic pulse emitter on board the Patton?”
“I believe she may have an EMP in the bottom of her lingerie drawer.”
“Good. Ask her to send it down,” Ray said, and Trouble hit his commlink.
“Oh, and find out if it’s dialable and just how far we can dial it back.”
Trouble did as he was bid. “The EMP emitter is on its way down. It cannot be dialed back to less than thirty klicks.”
Ray opened up the table to a wider view: city, camp, mountain, dam. He asked for a thirty-klick radius over the camp. It included Black Mountain as well as the dam. He directed it to center the circle over Black Mountain. It still covered the camp and the dam.
“I think we’re going to turn the lights off here in town,” he muttered. “Is there any other power plant for the city?”
The chief spook expanded the map. “There is the Milassi fusion plant thirty klicks downriver.”
“Is everything named for that nutcase?” Trouble asked.
“Pretty much. What he didn’t build himself, he had renamed after he took power,” Becky said.
“If we set off the EMP and close down all the electronic gear at the dam, will that put it out of harm’s way until we get troops up there?” Ray asked.
The spook was shaking his head even before Ray finished. He flipped through his reader, then slid it across to the general. “They’ve got manual backup, just in case the place starts to flood and blows out the electronic controls. Even with no electricity, they can flood the city.”
“And we’ll have turned off all the lights and warning sirens,” Ray said slowly. “Ruth.”
“Yes, General.”
“You ready for a drive in the country?”
“Who do I get for company this time?”
Trouble had noticed his wife was at the table. He’d assumed she was just there as one of the gang. He scowled as she set herself up for a night just as bad as his.
She grinned across the table. He could almost hear, “What’s good for Captain Gander is great for Mrs. Goose.”
“You have a problem, Captain?” the general said.
“No, sir. Yes, sir. Does it matter, sir. Wife, Mary is on light duty. Sending her off on this might keep her from demanding to go dancing with our lady friends here. I’d suggest Cyn as well. She’s good at killing tanks, and Deb is mad that she hasn’t killed one yet. That’s assuming tanks come your way, woman.”
“You make sure they don’t,” Ruth said, flipping her hair at him.
“I’ve got my wife home and pregnant, or, no doubt, she’d want in on the fun, too,” General Ray Longknife said. “Okay, Ruth, you and your team had best be on your way. You’ve got a ways to go to get to that dam, and you don’t need to hear what we’re about to cover.”
Ruth took the dismissal with good grace, and even threw her husband a kiss as she left the meeting.
General Ray Longknife smiled at Trouble’s discomfort in this professional gathering and leaned over the map. “As I see it, there are three sets of trenches being dug on Black Mountain . . .”
SIXTY-NINE
RUTH DROVE UP to the small truck stop. The dam-control building was off to her right. Above her, black and roiling clouds swept in, obliterating the sunset and bringing dark early.
Two farm-to-market trucks, one with a load of potatoes, the other with complaining chickens, were parked close to the stop. Right in front stood a green gun truck, complete with machine gun aimed toward the sky.
“Damn recruits,” Cyn spat. “They’ll get water down the barrel of that gun, and there will be hell to pay when they try to use it.”
“Let us thank God for His gifts,” Mary said.
Ruth took a deep breath, checked the lay of her automatic in the small of her back, and entered the store.
To the left was a small shop, sparsely supplied with snacks and recordings to make the drive go easier. To the right were tables and a counter. Two civilians, no doubt the drivers, huddled at the counter. One table held four men in uniform.
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One of the soldiers took in the four women and grinned. “I got a warm place for you to sit, girlie,” he said, slapping his lap.
The other soldiers laughed as Ruth and her associates studiously ignored him and chose their own table . . . well away from the troopers.
But in easy automatic range.
A middle-aged woman in tight slacks and an even tighter shirt appeared with menus. Ruth and her girls made it easy by ordering four identical hamburgers and fries with colas. The waitress looked out the window as thunder shook the building.
“Looks like rain.” She turned to the drivers. “You going to want to bed down for the night here?”
“And deliver those chickens all soaked?”
“Maybe the lightning will cook a few for us,” the joke of a trooper suggested.
Both drivers tossed money on the counter and took their leave.
“You two want me to fill up your thermoses for you?” the waitress asked.
They allowed that that would be nice and paused in their leaving.
Ruth suspected they’d be a lot longer leaving than they planned.
The lights went out.
Ruth stood in the dim light of fading day and stepped out of the line of fire of the other three. They’d been issued Colt-Pfizer’s best sleepy darts. Three pops almost in unison, and the three closest soldiers went down.
Ruth got the last one as he tried to bring his rifle to bear.
“You’ll pardon us, folks,” Mary said, swinging her automatic around to cover the three civilians. Four; the cook had come from the kitchen.
“We don’t got any power. None at all,” he said, not seeing the automatics covering him.
“This will go easier on all of you if you’ll just lie down on your backs,” Ruth said.
“You’re gonna kill us all?” the waitress said. “Just like in the movies?”
“None of you will be any the worse for the experience, come morning,” Ruth said. “Now, we can put you to sleep where you are, and you’ll have bruises from where you hit the floor, or you can lie down gentle-like, and we’ll put you to sleep nice and easy.”
To Do or Die (A Jump Universe Novel) Page 33