"I'll walk," Vicky said.
"Can I go with you?" Mannie asked.
"Of course," Vicky replied.
They boarded the gun truck. Kit and Kat shared the front passenger seat, riding shotgun . . . and leaving the back seat for the husband and wife, democrat and autocrat, salt and pepper.
Mannie leaned his head close to Vicky and whispered, "Should I have come with you?"
"No. You had your job and I had mine."
"But maybe I could have . . .”
Mannie was cut off by Vicky, "You could not have. I'm glad you did not see the hell over there. It was bad here, but at least everyone was trying to survive together. Over there, they had demons tormenting those suffering. I put an end to the demons."
"Yes, love."
"Don't 'yes, love' me, Mannie. Once this war is over. Once the Bowlingame mob has been sent to the hell they deserve, you can institute your rule of law. Now? No. It's Imperial law and I am the source of that justice."
"Vicky, I don't care about those SOBs. They can rot in hell. What worries me is you. You aren't the person you were this morning."
"No, I'm not," Vicky said, then allowed herself a deep sigh. "From now until we kill the cancer on the Empire, I am what I am."
Mannie started to speak, then stopped, started again, and stopped again. Finally, he said, "Vicky, please don't do this alone. Please don't lock me out. I'm your husband. Let me in. Let me share this with you."
"Mannie, I'm not sure I want to share this with anyone, least of all you. I feel like I've built a stone turret around me. The only thing I left a hole for is a phone line to you. You're going to have to settle for talking when I can."
Mannie nodded. "I'll be waiting on the other end of that line," he assured her, softly.
The gun truck pulled up to the terminal. Instead of going in the front door, they drove around to the west side. There, they went in and up three flights of stairs. There was an outside staircase that wrapped around the tower. Eighty steps later, Vicky and Mannie were a bit winded, but the two assassins looked ready to climb another eighty.
The view from the catwalk around the top of the tower was breathtaking, which didn't help with Vicky catching her own.
She was nearly twenty meters up and could see for kilometers. The land was green and rolling with white sheep dotting the landscape. Here and there far out were homesteads with houses and barns. Many fields were planted in corn and other crops.
Close in, she spotted several burned-out farms.
There was plenty to eat on this planet. However, with the financial and transportation systems shut down, the thin veneer of civilization had been ripped off, leaving only barbarism in its wake.
If tonight's mission worked like Vicky wanted, tomorrow these people could begin rebuilding their planet and society. However, all the social currency that people exchanged in their daily affairs had been thrown to the wind or burned to survive. People would be a long time building up their banks of shared faith and trust in themselves and those they lived with.
Vicky shook her head. Just re-imposing the rule of law would not be enough. These people would have to rediscover the basic human faith that underlay those laws. Belief that others obeyed them as well as themselves.
Within Vicky, her hatred of the redcoats and the Bowlingame faction behind them grew from red hot to white.
Shaking her head, she stepped into the control tower.
15
Vicky entered the air traffic control room. All the vents that could be opened, were. Several windows had been smashed out at some time in the past. Still, under the bright sun, the room was brutally hot.
The view, however, was worth the sweat collecting in her bra.
"What's our situation, Major?" she asked Major Magdor.
"The situation is well in hand, Your Grace. As you can see, I've got snipers on all three of the large hangars as well as this terminal."
He pointed out the locations of his teams. They'd gone to ground under camouflage. If he hadn't, she likely couldn't have spotted them.
"I've also pushed a roadblock out about five klicks toward Kromy. They should be able to stop a tank platoon, assuming there are any tanks on Oryol."
Vicky shrugged. "There weren't before this mess started but . . ."
"Yeah, we're not taking any chances. We'll have anti-tank rockets with every detachment. I've also got three sniper teams pushed out another klick past the roadblock. They've got a good line of sight covering the ground half-way to Kromy."
"What does the drone take show?"
"Almost no activity in town. Here and there a few people sneak from place to place, but there is no outdoor activity in the town core. No movement between Government House and the Imperial Bismarck Hotel."
"Do the redcoats have any guards posted? Lookouts?"
The major shook his head. "We've taken the smaller drones down low and mapped the entire area. They've looked in every room with a broken window. No one's on lookout. I don’t know if it's nap time for them or what, but they're not acting like they've got anything to fear."
Beside Vicky, Mannie frowned. "They must have heard the sonic booms from our landers.
The major shrugged, "We made sure to slow down a hundred klicks away and come in on low power, sir. Maybe they didn't hear us."
"Has General Pemberton been advised that we want to keep to that approach?" Vicky asked.
"Yes, ma'am. They're pulling every longboat in the fleet for the next lift. Even your admiral's barge. We've got both companies of the battalion as well as transportation. The third lift should bring down the Navy landing force and more transport."
"What about water?"
"We don't have any water trucks, but we do have bladders we can carry on the trailers. Add some hoses and pumps, and we can get water out of that lake fifteen clicks farther out."
"Please get five of those bladders filled and delivered to each of the hangars. There are a lot of dehydrated people out there."
"Understood, ma'am. The next five gun trucks down have orders to make for the lake before they even stop."
"Good," Vicky said. "Mannie, would you please go with the water run? I want to hear immediately if any show stoppers pop up."
"Are you micro-managing, dear?"
"Yes, but this is something I want everyone to know that the Grand Duchess is personally interested in. Major, I don't mean any disrespect to your people. Still, if one of your sergeants runs into trouble, I doubt if they'd dare call the Grand Duchess up and ask her to solve it."
"Excuse me, Your Grace," the major said with a chuckle, "but no, I don't see even a lieutenant calling you direct."
"Yeah, there are about a zillion levels in the chain of command between us. Mannie, however, is used to calling me. Sometimes he calls me out on things I'm doing wrong, don't you, sweetheart?”
"You are a good listener, My Gracious Grand Duchess."
"Now, as much as I hate to face those stairs again, I'd like to visit your roadblock."
"Ma'am," the major said.
"Vicky!" Mannie said.
"Can it," Vicky said.
The two men scowled at her.
"You tend to your knitting and I'll tend to mine," Vicky shot at them.
"I shouldn't say this," the major said, "since the longer you take, the more chances he'll have to change your mind, but there is an elevator you can use."
"I've seen enough of those dead bodies," Vicky said. "I'll take the stairs if you don't mind."
"You don't have to. I made sure to get a generator up, powering this building. You can ride it down to the third floor, then turn left. The outside stairs are just a couple of meters ahead of you. No bodies. Little stench."
"Thank you, Major."
Mannie and Vicky rode the elevator down, then dodged to the outside. It was a silent ride.
"Is there any chance I can talk you out of trotting off and sticking your neck into another noose?"
"Nope. I'll be safe," Vick
y insisted.
Mannie just shook his head, "And you expect me to hang around here?"
"Yep. Corral the first rigs off the longboats. Make sure they've got the gear you need and see that they head straight out for the lake. You know how much we need that water."
"I know. But we also need you, my darling."
"And you shall have me, I assure you," she said, giving him a friendly peck on the cheek.
Once back at her gun truck, Vicky gave Mannie a ride back to the first hangar and left him there to see if he could plant some seeds for democracy.
She, however, had a war to fight. She settled into the back of the gun truck and said, "Let's go see an ambush."
16
The drive out to the road block was silent, and kind of slow. You would think these guys were scared for some reason. The LT and gunner kept their heads up, eyes roving over the terrain.
Vicky eyed the rolling hill country. The land smelled of earth and fertility. The air was clean and warm. If she could get her mind off of what she'd just seen and done, it would be idyllic.
The road was wide, with wide, deep ditches on either side. Even now, they had small streams running down them Beyond them were trees of several different Earth types, some evergreen, others seasonal. All were fully covered with greenery and leaves.
The fields beyond the trees looked like they had been plowed often, but were now covered in grass. No one wanted to get too close to Kromy.
Ahead, she knew, the hills would slant down to a wide bay where Kromy had been built. Several hundred klicks to the south, at the equator, was Bonki with the industrial park that had grown up around the space elevator station.
Work there was still subdued, but there did not appear to be a strong redcoat presence.
Oryol looked like a healthy body that someone had beheaded.
The gun truck slowed to a halt.
Vicky looked around. "Why'd we stop?"
"You're in the ambush," the LT said.
Vicky dismounted, then slowly turned in a complete circle. Then she did it again, only even more slowly. She studied the trees, the ditches, the fields.
If there were armed men out there, she couldn't spot them.
The temptation was to shout "Olly, olly, oxen free," but such childish words didn't belong in a Grand Duchess's mouth. Nor did strong and armed men deserve to be addressed in such a way.
"Okay, Lieutenant, you beat me. Where's the ambush?"
"Olly, olly, oxen free!" he called.
The Marines appeared as if from the earth. A pair of them had dug themselves into the sides of the ditches on opposite banks, but fifty meters up the road from each other. Others were beside bushes. Not behind them, but in fire pits a bit to the left or right of the bush. They'd dug a fighting hole and covered it over with a steel plate that had turf on top of it.
Several snipers in heavy green and shaggy camouflage dropped out of the trees on either side of the road. Others rose from under a blanket out among the grass.
"Sergeant, you fooled Her Grace big time."
"I should hope so," a Gunny Sergeant said, then ordered, "Okay, you've had your break. Back down. Don't trample the grass around you."
In a moment, all but the sergeant had once again disappeared into the earth. He trotted over from the tree he'd slipped out of and joined Vicky and the LT.
"Your troopers are good," Vicky said when he got to her.
"We're the best ambush team in the fleet, Your Grace. Any time we're not stuck with deck plates under our boots, we're trying out different twists."
"How big a force do you think you can stop?" Vicky asked.
The sergeant pursed his lips. "Four tanks we can stop, maybe eight. Two platoons of infantry. We've got some claymores laid out that will ruin their day after they dismount."
"So, nobody is going to interrupt us at the airport," Vicky said.
"I just wish they'd try, ma'am. We've seen the shots of what the terminal looks like. God, I'd love to have those shitheads in my kill zone."
"You want to come with us tonight?" Vicky asked.
"Please, ma'am. Half my guys are on watch. Half are napping. We'll be in fine fettle come midnight."
"Lieutenant, make sure these guys are mounted up tonight."
"Will do, ma'am."
"So, are the sniper teams forward in just as good a shape as these?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do you have the take from the drones covering this road?" Vicky asked the sergeant.
He pulled a thin viewer out and unfolded it, just like hers. "Here's what I was looking at when I got the call you were coming."
He held the viewer so all three of them could see it. "No activity on this road. Not so much as someone driving out to take a look. I suspect they can't see longboats coming in for landing, but they're not even trying."
"Likely they are just too drunk," Vicky said.
"Your Grace, do you mind me asking," the sergeant said, "will this be a police action, or do we get to shoot these bastards?"
"Sergeant, these men are at war against their rightful sovereign. That's high treason. They've taken hostages, raped, and their pillaging has brought a successful colony to its knees. If you don't kill them, I'll just have to hang them tomorrow morning."
"Yes, ma'am," the sergeant said. Grinning from ear to ear, he snapped to attention and gave her a smart salute.
"Let's just try not to kill any of the hostages."
The grin went away. His "Yes, ma'am," was much more subdued.
Behind Vicky, she heard the whisper jets of a longboat coming in for a landing. The rest of her strike force was landing. It was time to stop being a tourist and go kick some redcoat butt.
"I'll see you later tonight," Vicky said.
"Thank you, ma'am," the sergeant said.
She mounted up and headed back to the airport. She had a hostage rescue to plan.
17
They met in the control tower, high above the airport. Colonel Pietz, commander of the 5th Marines brought all three of his battalion commanders. Captain Blue provided the large, portable map board for them to study the layout of Kromy on. Two other Navy captains were also there. Captain Howitz commanded the two thousand volunteers carrying rifles. Captain Blue had brought down a large contingent of engineers to work with the combat engineering major attached to the 5th Marines.
It took them an hour to knock it out, but at the end, General Pemberton summed up the strike plan.
"We all agree that splitting our forces is a bad idea for a military operation, but this is more of a police action. We want to round up all four thousand of the redcoats. To do that, we've got to take some risks."
He paused to glance around those forming a circle around the battle map. Vicky, along with everyone else nodded. Some eagerly, some reluctantly, but they all had finally agreed they needed a police dragnet, not a battle to defeat and dislodge an enemy.
"The regiment, with attached Navy forces, will approach along this direct axis, from the airport to downtown. Twenty blocks out, the First Battalion will break off to the south to attack from that direction. The Second will do the same to the north. The Third, with the Navy landing party, will hold in place, then attack from the west."
Again, he paused, this time eyeing Vicky.
"The redcoats will have three choices: die fighting, surrender and be hung, or flee to the east. There's only the bay behind them. They can drown, for all I care."
"Hostage situations?" Colonel Pietz asked the general.
With a glance at Vicky, General Pemberton dumped the question in her lap.
"If you have the shot, take it," Vicky said. "I've yet to meet a Marine that doesn't brag about being an expert marksman. This is where you get to show me. Any bastard who hides behind a hostage dies."
Vicky tasted the solid steel in her words. She also tasted the regret that she would feel for every dead hostage. Still, this evil would not be allowed to hold good hostage.
This ended tonigh
t, or at sunrise, when the surviving redcoats swung from ropes.
"Yes, Your Grace," all the officers present said, standing to attention.
Vicky then changed to something softer. "Captain Howitz, could you report on what we've got to handle the hostages when they're freed?"
"The fleet has brought down every doc nurse and corpsman we've got. We've sent teams out to recruit any medical people on the economy. We've got our hands on quite a few. We've also got women volunteering to back up our personnel, giving a hand with the hostages. I'm told these women will be in a fragile state. Turn them over to our people, and we'll evacuate them as quickly as possible," the captain stated.
"They don't need to stay there any longer than they have to," Vicky said, "but we don't want our troopers being pulled off the firing line, so pass the hostages to the rear quickly."
"Will all the hostages be women?" Colonel Pietz asked.
"Our understanding is yes, almost everyone who has been taken by the redcoats is female, usually young," Captain Howitz said. "If there are any men, they're likely in even worse shape than the women, if that's possible."
Some time during that summation, Mannie walked out of the elevator. He paused, listening, then stepped around those at the map board to come up beside Vicky's right elbow.
For a long moment, he studied the map, with the overlay of drone imagery. "Is that real time?" he asked.
"Yes," Vicky said.
"Still not much activity downtown, huh?"
"A few people rambling from building to building around the central park blocks, but not much activity at all. We think they're sleeping it off."
Mannie showed Vicky a doubtful look on his face, "They could be," he said, agreeably, then changed his tone. "Or you might need to know something I found out from one of the locals. Actually, quite a few of the local city folk."
Mannie turned around to take in the broad sweep of lush green land surrounding them.
"It's hard to believe, considering how lovely this all is, but come fall, something the locals call monsoons, sweep in from the gulf out there to the east of Kromy."
Implacable: Vicky Peterwald, #5 Page 9