by Chris Hechtl
Now that was out he thought sourly.
The more he heard the broadcasts of celebrations and a few of his native militias no longer responding, quite possibly going AWOL or over to the other side, the more he decided to go with one of his go-to-hell plans. Hell, the natives didn't like them anyway! They might as well go whole hog and use the civilians as pawns in the classic asymmetrical warfare.
He heard a crackle of static and looked over to the radio speaker. Debois again he thought absently. He knew his people were taking notes. “Major Zedeal was it? We need to meet up. I know that now. I'm going out on a limb here as it is with this broadcast. So are the people around me. But we are so grateful you've returned to put an end to the Horathians and free our planet ….”
He flipped Debois's latest broadcast off and fumed. No, he no longer had any qualms about it he thought as he drummed his fingers on the old door that was serving as his desktop.
<)>^<)>/
Lieutenant Lishman picked up on Debois's latest transmission. He'd been closing the gap with his platoon, slowly closing the noose around the bastard's neck. He snapped his fingers to get Sergeant Adkin's attention and then pointed urgently to the map board as he did his best to triangulate the position.
“He's on a western bearing … range … two kilometers or so,” Vincent said as he played with the directional antenna to get a proper fix. “Yeah. I'm not sure about the range though,” he said with a grimace.
“With no other listener to triangulate, it's almost impossible,” Adkins said as he checked the bearing against the map board. “It's on a direct heading to the radio broadcast center here on the hills southwest of Fallbrook though,” he said, pointing to a spot on the map.
Vincent stared at it. He frowned, then nodded. “Order Fornell to cover the road to Fallbrook. We'll get the bastard yet. We'll cover the other road. Have them set up an ambush.”
“Yes, sir,” the newly promoted sergeant replied.
“See if they can triangulate too,” the lieutenant said as Adkins waved to the outside guard with one hand as he jotted out a message on a scrap of paper.
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant replied as he added that order to the note the runner was going to carry.
<)>^<)>/
Corporal Mike Fornell grimaced, then crumpled the paper once he'd read it. He'd picked up the radio broadcast as well but hadn't commented on it. A lot of his people were feeling homesick and on the wrong side. They wanted payback, well, most of them did. Some he wasn't so sure about anymore.
Hell, he wasn't certain about himself anymore. Things were definitely looking down. From the scuttlebutt he'd heard, going head to head against these Marines was a losing proposition. And the Horathians thought of the locals, including himself, as cannon fodder. What was it Jacques said? Something about the units around and in the capital being called pawns by the general? It sounded about right.
“Wagons coming,” the lookout called out softly.
The corporal's head snapped up and then over to the lookout, then to the road. He could hear the soft trot of hooves and the occasional wicker of an animal over the soft evening breeze.
“Get ready to ambush them,” he growled, checking his rifle carefully.
He knew he was in over his head. This wouldn't get him out of it, far from it. But he also knew he was in too deep to stop now.
<)>^<)>/
Jean Claude had been forced to end his transmission when he heard there was movement on the road to Quenos. He had convinced the Oberons to stop at the abandoned radio station; it was only through Lady Luck's blessing that the place had power and a way to plug his prized radio set into it.
He'd wanted to call his wife as well, but he knew that his voice would be the tonic she needed to reassure her that he was still alive. It was the only other gift he could give her and the children, to let her know he was out there. It had been one of the hardest decisions he'd made to leave her and the kids behind with their friends in the safe house.
It had been for their safety though. He knew they would, probably could, be used as bait for him or even as potential trade if they were ever caught. He'd had to harden his heart to such a possible heart … and pray it never came about.
Now they rushed to get out of the area. “I told you to hurry,” Ned swore as he flicked the reins to get the animals to move faster. “We need to get clear and find a place to camp for the night. Some place away from that damn tower,” he said.
“I know. It was worth the risk,” Jean said as he looked out to the dark terrain around them. The sun had set. They had about another twenty minutes before the light faded and all they would have would be the moonlight to guide them down the road with. It wasn't enough he knew. Not in these hills he thought bleakly.
“It was worth it,” he murmured again. Ned glanced at him, and then there was a thunderous crack ahead. Jean turned his head to see where it came from but felt something leaning forward. He turned to see Ned against him. “Ned?” he asked, shaking him.
Ned's body slumped forward and then fell, alarmingly off the bench and onto the rear of the geldings pulling the wagon. The horses spooked and kicked, bucked, then ran from the smell of blood. The wagon bucked as it ran over Ned's body as more loud cracks sounded off around them.
Jean Claude reached desperately for the reins but they'd been in Ned's hands. They went with him. One hand grabbed the edge of the bench to hang on as the wagon teetered, and the team pulling it stampeded.
“Fire!” Wade called out from the back.
<)>^<)>/
Wade was shaking a match out after he'd lit the lamp in the wagon. The wagon's small windows were shuttered so there should be no betraying light he knew. He put the hurricane glass chimney on top then adjusted the wick just as there was a crack and the team bolted.
He was thrown off balance and swung the lantern against the bed support. The glass shattered and flaming lamp oil sprayed the interior. He swore and batted at his lite leg and arm then rushed to get his jacket off to smother the flames.
The old wagon was dry however; it went up faster than he could get it out. “Fire! I need some help in here!” he said as the wagon teetered then rushed forward. “What the hell is going on!” he said as his Kadir and the others climbed out of their beds and scrambled for the exit.
<)>^<)>/
Corporal Fornell knew he was in trouble when the lead wagon didn't stop as expected. He swore; he'd forgotten that without the reins and with the rider falling like that it would spook the horses. “Kill the drivers and outriders!” he snarled to the others. “But watch your ammo!” he said as they popped shots off seemingly at random. “And save your brass!” he called out again as he lined up on the passenger at the front of the lead wagon. It turned though, blocking his shot just as he squeezed the trigger.
<)>^<)>/
Jean knew they were in trouble. He picked up the radio transmitter and hurriedly got off a mayday before he dropped the microphone to hang onto the side of the wagon. The wagon careened on two wheels, and he was certain they were going over until it tilted back and continued on down the hill path.
“What the hell's going on??” Kadir called out as a round hit the side of the wagon, sending splinters out into Jean's arm and face.
“We're under attack!” Jean bellowed as smoke started to billow out from the windows, then the flicker of flames broke through the shutters. “The team is out of control!” he called out. “Get that fire out!”
“Easier said than done!” Wade bellowed. “Get the team under control!” he snarled back.
Jean looked at the madly bucking and running animals and the churning hooves as he hung on. “Yeah, easier said than done,” he muttered as another turn came up.
<)>^<)>/
“We got all five drivers of the wagons and the outriders. They are out of control though, and we can't catch up,” Lois said to Corporal Fornell as he ejected the last spent brass cartridge from his rifle. He caught the hot cylinder, and then wav
ed it in the air to cool it before he stuffed it into his pocket. He checked the ground around him for any other brass cartridges.
“Get the horses. We'll need to run them down,” Mike ordered.
“Easier said than done,” Lois said as she pointed to the fire lit night sky ahead of them. “And it looks like there might not be much left when we get there,” she said.
“Move,” Mike growled, motioning them to mount up.
<)>^<)>/
“We've got to get out of here,” Kadir coughed into his fist as he tried for the door but missed. The wagon was throwing them and flaming debris about inside.
“Out,” Wade said as he got his feet under him and then charged the door. He slammed into it and the lock and hinges popped off. He and the door landed on the ground, then skidded out of the way of the team and wagon behind them. The wagon was also out of control and careening about. Fortunately, he wasn't trampled to death.
He rolled into the ditch, then coughed to himself as the other wagons stampeded past. He heard the screams of the animals and people. He looked up to see the last wagon pass, and then the body of Boyd slumped on his mare pass by as well. He opened his mouth to say something, then ducked as he realized he was a target.
<)>^<)>/
“We've got a hairpin turn coming up!” Jean Claude yelled as he saw the turn. There was no way the team would make the turn, not in their mad condition. They needed to slow down, but he couldn't get them to slow.
He looked over his shoulder to see Kadir and his family coming out of the back of the flaming wagon clinging to the side of the wagon.
“On the count of three, jump!” Kadir said. “One, two, three! Jump!” he urged, jumping into a muddy ditch.
Jean Claude saw them go off, turned to look at the turn and then jumped as well. He felt something hit his arm then screamed in pain as a bone snapped. He fainted for a minute from the blast of pain that overwhelmed his senses.
<)>^<)>/
Kadir looked up to see the team swerve as they saw the cliff. They didn't quite make it though; the wagon's momentum and weight pulled it over the side. Kicking and screaming in terror, the animals were pulled down with them. He groaned and watched them go down and out of sight. When they hit bottom, he saw a brief flare of flames. “I don't want to look,” he said softly as another team rushed past, then a third.
“Someone's got to stop them!” his wife said as she spat mud.
“Yeah,” Kadir said. He glanced angrily at Jean Claude. He rose and waved to the next wagon, but it kept careening forward. This team saw his wind milling arms and shied away into the bush on the other side then their wagon tipped over. He heard screams as people were thrown about inside, then it too burst into flames.
“Wade, get up and help,” Kadir bellowed as a couple of riderless animals passed by. One Branack had a man being dragged by the stirrup leather. The wagon team behind it saw the body and shied away directly towards them. Sudden terror sparked in Kadir and his family as he pushed them out of the way just in time for the team to go over their muddy ditch and then careening down the steep hillside.
“Damn it!” Wade snarled as he rose out of the ditch.
The last wagon somehow made it to the curve and around it before it kept going out of sight.
“Now what the hell do we do?” he snarled as Jean Claude groaned.
“Go over and check the others,” Kadir said, pointing to the opposite side of the road. “We need to get what we can and get out of here before the bastards who ambushed us show up to finish us off,” he growled.
Wade stared at him for a fulminating moment, then gave a short choppy nod. “Right,” he said as he used his hands and feet to scramble out of the ditch back up the road.
<)>^<)>/
Wade got a few survivors including an infant from the other wagon and then got the groups moving. Jean Claude cradled his arm as they moved out into the dark bush away from the fires and screaming animals. One of Kadir's sons caught a wayward horse by the reins. His mother muffled the horse's mouth then ripped her dress hem to tie it around the horse's hooves to muffle its sounds as they moved deeper into the bush.
The kids were put up on the back of the sweaty foaming beast, but they had to keep low to keep from getting knocked off by the low branches.
Jean Claude and Wade followed in their wake. “You are sure …?” Jean Claude asked as he slipped his broken arm out of his jacket then used the jacket as a temporary sling.
“No one else here,” Wade said darkly as he used a branch on the ground. Jean tried to think about what to do next, but he kept going back to why Wade was doing what he was doing. Pain and the sudden attack were coloring his thoughts he knew. He teetered a bit. Finally, he realized Wade was brushing their tracks away or at least making them harder to read.
A few minutes after they got clear of the road, they heard the clatter of animal feet on it running up it after the wagons. One group stopped and gruff voices snarled as they checked out the fallen wagon. Then they moved on.
“I hope you are happy. That wagon has been in my family for ages,” Kadir said angrily as he glared at Jean Claude.
“And my cousin? Ned was a good man. He didn't deserve that. None of our people did. It's not my fault; none of us asked them to come here,” Jean Claude said with as much dignity as he could muster. “It's not mine, nor yours. It is theirs,” Jean Claude said, cradling his broken arm as he nodded his chin to the Horathians chasing the burning wagon.
Kadir looked at them, then nodded once. He turned back to Wade. Wade grimaced, ran a hand through his hair, then took out a handkerchief and used it to wipe the mud off his face. He spat blood and mud, then shook his head as if to clear it. “Now what?”
<)>^<)>/
Colonel Harley heard the report of Horathians going after Jean Claude an hour after the Navy reported that they'd gotten the ansible up and running and had already sent off an initial report to Antigua. She'd been dictating a summary when word came in forcing her out of her chair and to the CIC to find out what was going on.
“We got a garbled mayday. We're running it through the computers now. It is on the same general bearing as his radio transmissions,” Major Zedeal reported.
“Tell me some good news, please,” Dana said as she looked at the map. Her eyes searched it, but she realized she had nothing in the area. “We can't get there in time to support him,” she murmured.
“No, ma'am, we can't,” Blake replied. He looked over his shoulder as the computer beeped. At the top was a voice sample; at the bottom was the most recent one. The computer flashed a match. “Damn,” he muttered.
“They are going after anyone who wants to help us. Punishing them to keep them quiet and on the fence. Keep them away from us. Do they fear what these people know, or were they after them even before we arrived?” Dana asked.
“I don't know, ma'am. I think a mix of all of those questions though,” Blake said. She nodded. “Nothing is ever simple,” Blake said.
“People tend to muck things up. Yes, I know Blake,” Dana replied with a brief smile. “Okay, time to get off the stick,” she said.
“Ma'am?” Blake asked in alarm.
“You heard me. It's time we go on the offense. We've got most of our forces down now and about half our equipment. It's time we used it,” she growled as she stared at the map. “Let the senior staff know we're meeting at 0300. The offense kicks off at 0400. At first light I want to be hitting the nearest towns and villages. We are done with sitting and listening to crap like this,” she said, indicating the blinking icon where contact had been lost. “Tomorrow we go on the offense and run these bastards down once and for all. Pass the word we're moving on to Phase II,” she said.
“Aye aye, ma'am,” the major replied. He turned and held a hand to his ear as he used his implants to pass the order on.
She didn't look at him; she just continued to stare at the map. They needed to secure the hydroelectric sites, population centers, and other critical
locations on the planet, and then squeeze the pirates until they came out into the open or were exposed and rooted out once and for all.
Tomorrow was the beginning of another long day she thought.
<)>^<)>/
“Did they get him or not?” General Drier demanded.
“Lieutenant Lishman reports they hit the wagons hard. All five went down. They killed two dozen people. Unfortunately, we don't know if he was one of them or not,” Captain Goddard reported. “According to the lone survivor Corporal Fornell caught and interrogated, Debois was in the lead wagon with his cousin. Fornell reports that the driver and passenger were shot.”
“So, no confirmation is what you are telling me. Maybe,” the general said.
The captain inhaled, nostrils dilating before she exhaled slowly. She forced herself to wait a full ten count before she answered. “Yes, sir. We won't know for certain until he shows up on the radio again or somewhere public. Until then, no we don't know for certain.”
“Damn. Well, at least it is a maybe. It's time we start blooding the enemy's nose though. I should have done more since they've kept bottled up. Tomorrow that changes,” the general vowed.
<)>^<)>/
The following morning General Drier's plan to act ended abruptly before it even began. As dawn broke over the horizon, aircraft could be seen taking off in all directions and moving out. Reports of engine noises passing overhead had come and gone throughout the night, now he realized that the Marines had gone on the offense.
<)>^<)>/
Pablo heard about his name and general description being handed over to the Marines and swore. He swore even more when he got reports that the anticipated Marine offense had finally been kicked off. He decided that the best part of valor was to go underground as deep as he could. When he hit rock bottom, he vowed to go deeper. He also vowed to find some way to pay Debois back for betraying him.
He knew his training would stand him in good stead. He did his best to change his look and appearance as well as those of his people. He'd been chased out of his compound; now it seemed a good time to go bush and disappear for a few years.