Implacable: Vicky Peterwald, #5

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Implacable: Vicky Peterwald, #5 Page 10

by Mike Shepherd


  Those around the table seemed puzzled at the easy way of his words, but Vicky had come to learn that when Mannie got really soft, there was something hard underneath.

  "These monsoons bring plenty of rain. Have you noticed how deep the ditches are alongside the roads?"

  Except for Vicky, no one had.

  "But it also brings winds that at times exceed two hundred and fifty kilometers an hour. This colony was almost wiped out the first fall."

  Now he had everyone's attention.

  "The initial settlement was laid out along the bay's edge. When the first storm hit, the settlers barely managed to make it up the bluffs above the bay. When the next storm came in two weeks later, they dragged everything they could salvage up the hill and watched what the first storm left get washed out to sea. They were left as little more than drowned rats. By the time the third storm in two months swept past them, everything they'd built had been wiped from the face of the planet."

  Mannie shrugged. "Being pioneers, they didn't let a little thing like that stop them. They rebuilt, but Kromy now has an uptown and a downtown. Everything downtown by the bay is built on stilts. Much of what was built uptown has connecting breezeways between the basements of the buildings. With the wind blowing, that was about the only way people could conduct any business."

  Mannie paused to eye Captain Blue.

  The captain shook his head. "So, everyone we've seen was someone they wanted us to see."

  "Yep."

  "And any defense preparations have been done below ground."

  "Yep, only it gets worse," Mannie said.

  There were several groans from strong men.

  "Out here in the country, they need deep ditches. How do you think they handle the rain runoff in town?"

  "Sewers," Captain Blue said. "Big drainage sewers."

  "Yep. I've spent some time talking to one of the fellows who maintains the sewers. He doesn't have a map on him, but he figures he remembers it pretty well. Anyone here want to talk to him?"

  Mr. Zukon, a short, round, gray-haired fellow, was waiting for their call.

  Thirty minutes later, they knew about the underground breezeways through the five square blocks around the central parks. They also knew about the underground.

  "Our public transit goes all the way out to the edge of town," Mr. Zukon explained. "We tried building the extensions above ground, but the damn typhoons blew cars off the tracks. We had to take it underground if we wanted it to run."

  "So, when these storms come in, does all work stop?" Vicky asked.

  "The winds soften soon after they reach landfall. Still, farmers around here just stay in. They have plenty of fodder for their farm animals for a couple of weeks. Here, we just set up cots and shelter where we need to be. School kids stay in school for four or five days. Plants have bunkhouses for their people. Some of us take time to party a lot."

  A mischievous grin took over the old fellow's face. "Lots of births nine months later, you know. The colony's still small enough that we like large families."

  Vicky decided she'd heard all she needed to, and sent the man below. Although, come to think of it, she might want Mannie to spend more time with him and the locals.

  "Okay, how does this change our strike plan?" she asked General Pemberton.

  "Does ‘toss it into a cock hat’ sound familiar?" he replied.

  "We do seem to have gone from knowing a lot to knowing almost nothing about our target," Captain Blue mused.

  "We need to get some drones down in these undergrounds and sewer systems," Colonel Pietz said.

  "I could send a recon platoon forward," Major Cibor, of the colonel's combat engineers said. "I'd need some fire support in case these SOBs got troublesome."

  "I can give you a reinforced company," the colonel said, and the skipper of the 3rd battalion got busy ordering up a task force.

  Just before Mannie joined them, Vicky spotted gun trucks coming back with trailers burdened with full bladders of water. Five of them. While the soldiers began the work of filling in the blanks on their knowledge of Kromy's underground, she left to see what was being done for these brutalized survivors.

  18

  It was nice to have Mannie by her side, if only for a few moments. She removed the gauntlet from her armor, and he did the same. In a moment, she could feel the warmth of human flesh on her own. He began to play his fingers over the palm of her hand.

  "Are you trying to distract me from reviewing your water work?" Vicky asked.

  "Nope. I'm just trying to distract you," Mannie admitted.

  She sighed. "Oh, that you could. Maybe tomorrow morning we can find time for a nap."

  "We'll see," was warm and hopeful, even as the gun truck came to a halt in front of the first hangar. Where starvation and lethargy had been, was now a buzz of activity.

  "For now, Mannie, tell me what I'm looking at," she said.

  "Colonel Pietz held back a company of Marines so we could drop a mobile hospital," Mannie told her as they paced toward the hangar. "They have taken over the care of the refugees. We have to limit their intake. Not only food, but also water. Who would have thought it?"

  "Yeah," Vicky agreed, tersely. For the moment, all her attention was being held by the view in the hangar.

  A gun truck with a bladder full of water was now parked beside the trailer full of famine biscuits. People had queued up for water. The Marines were filling small, red 250 milliliter cups and handing them to the medical staff.

  Corpsmen handed off the cup, and, depending on whether the civilian passing by was an adult or a child, a pink or a blue pill.

  "Take the pill. Sip the water. There will be more in an hour, so please drink the water slowly. Sip," was the medical mantra.

  "Is it the same at the other hangars?" Vicky asked Mannie.

  "Yes. We want to bring the people from the other side of the field over here so we can take care of them all together. However, many of them are in too bad of shape to move. We'll bring some today, then more as we stabilize them."

  "Or lose some," Vicky added.

  "They'd had three die already the last time I was over there."

  Vicky could feel her lips disappearing into a stern, angry scowl. "All we can do now is what we can do."

  Embarrassment followed. To a shout of "The Grand Duchess!" the people standing in line broke from the queue and hobbled over to surround her.

  Even Kit and Kat did not take this for an attack. Still, people surrounded her, joggling her elbows as they thanked her for their salvation.

  "We would have all been dead by next week."

  "My mother almost died but you brought her food and water."

  "We thank God for you."

  Vicky found herself fighting back tears. All this gratitude was misplaced. It was the Marines and medical personnel that were saving their lives. She didn't deserve any of this.

  Mannie seemed to understand that and the problem she was creating here. Slowly, he and the assassins managed to get her moving through the crowd to the water line that was rapidly running out of people to give water to.

  With her moving in that direction, the throng began to gravitate back toward the lifesaving water. Vicky took up her place at the elbow of the two corpsmen distributing water and pills.

  Now people could give her their thanks without risking their fragile lives. Vicky accepted that gratitude, encouraging them to tell that to a Marine, doctor, or Sailor.

  Now, she noticed that laid out in rows were people who could hardly raise their heads. These were being given water by some of the less weakened souls under the guidance of the doctors and corpsmen.

  She could only imagine what it was like across the runway.

  Half an hour later, she slipped away and quickly walked to the second hangar. This time Mannie got her to the head of the water line before the effort got disrupted. A half hour later, it was time to move to the third one.

  As one water bowser emptied, a second arrived from the la
ke. The water smelled of treatment, but no one complained. They would go through the line, finish off their cup, then fifteen minutes after the last one got water, they'd start again.

  Meanwhile, a small field kitchen had been established. There, they were heating soup and adding famine biscuits to it along with other ingredients Vicky could only guess at.

  Soon, people were queueing for the soup. It was ladled into their small red cups and they were sent off to drink it.

  By the time Vicky had spent a half-hour in the third hangar, people were cycling through the soup line, then resting before getting more water. By this point, the survivors seemed to realize that there was plenty of food and they need only eat what they wanted when their bodies wanted it.

  "Your Grace," Maggie said from Vicky's neck.

  "Yes."

  "The general would like you back at the control tower."

  Wordlessly, Vicky nodded and marched from her place among the sick and dying. Mannie let her go without a comment.

  She was death and there was nothing more for the two of them to say about it.

  19

  Vicky found an intense bunch of officers studying several different map boards and screens when she returned to the control tower.

  "They have booby trapped the approaches," General Pemberton reported. "I really appreciate the help your computer gave us. It did a more intense analysis of the drone imagery and identified where claymores had been set into the walls of the sewers and underground tunnels."

  "Maggie?" Vicky asked.

  "Your Grace, there was not much I could do for you as you comforted the survivors, so I turned my focus to the sensor data coming back from our drones."

  "Very good, Maggie," Vicky said while thinking, You and I have got to talk about what you do without telling me.

  "We've also spotted mines sunk into the roads a good ten blocks from the uptown underground complex. We'll have to dismount and work our way in carefully on foot."

  Vicky frowned. "Won't that slow us down?"

  "Yes, ma'am, but how can we do otherwise?" General Pemberton asked.

  Vicky let her eyes wander back to the view of green fields dotted with sheep.

  The general followed her gaze. "Ma'am, you've got to be kidding.”

  "Are they that much smaller than a man?" she asked.

  "But won't they fail to trip a mine designed for a gun truck?

  "Good point," Vicky said. "Still, can't we laser the mines we identify and leave it to the sheep to spot the ones we missed?"

  "Major Magdor, why don't you have someone go talk to our local sheep ranchers and see about rustling us up some mine detectors."

  "Talk to Mannie before you leave," Vicky put in. "He may know someone who knows the ranchers around here. Also, assure them that they will be paid both for the loan of their sheep and for any that are lost."

  "Understood, Your Grace," the major said. With a quick salute, he was out of there fast.

  "If we blow up mines, they'll know we're coming," Major Cibor of the combat engineers pointed out.

  "So we blow mines all around their perimeter," Vicky said. "That's bound to scare the hell out of them."

  "Are we still planning on coming in from all three directions now that we have given up all hope of surprise?" Colonel Pietz asked General Pemberton.

  "What about blocking forces on those flanks?" Vicky asked. "Maybe a battalion of Navy landing force strengthened with a company of Marines and a few snipers."

  "And if they try to run our roadblock with a car carrying hostages?" Colonel Pietz asked.

  "Shoot for the tires? The radiators?" Vicky offered.

  "That would slow them down," General Pemberton said. "Your Grace, you do know that we're going to lose some hostages."

  Vicky nodded. "No matter what we do, people are going to die. We just need to try for the smallest number."

  The officers in the control tower nodded their agreement. Four thousand plus potential bad guys and an unknown number of hostages. Tonight was bound to get out of their control. That didn't mean they couldn't do all within their power to keep things the way they wanted.

  20

  With care, they advanced by companies into town during the last hours of daylight. There was a small shoot-out along the main threat axis. The lead company coming in from the west spotted the sloppy ambush.

  It was short and sharp and ended with ten dead redcoats. That assumed you could still call these thugs redcoats. Most wore rather fine clothing; only a few still sported their red uniform.

  Fortunately, they had no female hostages with them.

  As the sun set, the companies, now reinforced with combat engineers and qualified Sailors, were ready to start exploding mines. The drones helped them spot likely mine locations. Reconnaissance by fire handled most of the mines. By the time darkness completely fell, they would have blown all the mines they knew of, almost up to the park blocks.

  About fifty redcoats tried to slip up behind the engineers clearing the roads in from the space port. However, the locals had warned the Marines where the spots were that they could expect anyone underground to come up to street level.

  In the dark, the redcoats crept from the Twentieth Avenue subway station after the engineers had passed them clearing mines on their way into town. The inept thugs and spread themselves out and made ready to gun down the engineers when they returned.

  Things didn't go their way.

  They made a poor use of cover. Once the last of the bushwhackers had strung themselves out along the buildings lining West Street, two companies of the 2nd of the 5th Marines that were waiting opened fire from their own ambush.

  The redcoats didn't know what hit them. Those that tried to flee back to the underground, found fire teams had slipped up behind them. Marines had dead fields of fire all along the inclined walkways the fleeing criminals tried to dash down.

  None of the fifty survived their little sneak attack.

  21

  At full dark, the main strike force moved out slowly from the airport. In many of the trailers that were not needed for combat equipment and supplies, Sailors sat expectantly. Other Sailors rode in buses and vans that had been parked at the airport.

  The last drop had brought down the needed equipment to repair the hydrogen/oxygen generators so all the rolling stock there could be fueled and brought into the troop movement.

  More of the fuel cells had been handed off to the sheep ranchers to power their stock trucks. Their part of the convoy stank, so they brought up the rear.

  Most of them had brought their sheep dogs. Vicky would be charged a premium if any of them were hurt, crippled, or killed. Still, it seemed better to have the dogs move the sheep forward than the shepherds.

  At midnight, they began the running of the sheep. The dogs and shepherds did their best to just run the sheep up the streets until they were two blocks out from the park blocks, but sheep being sheep, and the park blocks having grass, many of them galloped off for the park and its abundant grass.

  In less than an hour, the sheep had pranced through all the streets Vicky's troops would follow to their target and not a single sheep had ended up as lamb chops. Nor had anyone shot at the sheep collecting in the park blocks.

  Hidden among the sheep were rolling drones which gave troops a good look at the buildings surrounding the park. Government House was at one end, the Imperial Bismarck Hotel was opposite it, across two blocks of trees, grass, and a statue to the pioneers.

  Along the two long sides of the park were four buildings. Next to the east side of Government House facing the park was a government office building annex. Across the park from it was a building that had once housed State Security, now dead, gone, and unlamented. Next to the hotel on the west side of the park was the planet's major bank. It was across from a new building of glass and concrete that held offices for bureaus of commerce and agriculture.

  As bookends, on either side of the hotel and Government House, were four luxury apartment
complexes. On their lower levels they provided restaurants and other services to the area. Private offices were on higher levels before apartments and condominiums for those working for the government took over.

  Here was everything you needed to run a small colony. At least that was what Vicky would have thought years ago. Now she marveled that the Courts of Justice were in the same building with State Security.

  That would have to change.

  Vicky surveyed all the drone takes on her portable battle board. Every building was dark. So were the streets. Except for the stars, there was no light. A full moon would rise around two, but for now, it was starlight.

  At least the night was clear, if a bit crisp.

  The time for the assault, 0100, came and the troops moved out silently. They had four blocks to cover and were willing to take all the time needed to cover it.

  Troops spread out along the sidewalks of the buildings. Where doors were found, a bit of lock-picking opened them, and sniper teams headed up for the roof. Meanwhile, rifle teams checked out the rooms.

  Most were empty. In a few, usually the basement, emaciated civilians huddled together. They were ordered to shelter in place for now. Still, their presence raised a serious question.

  Would troops find a bunch of such people with a gunman hiding among them?

  Vicky could not give any order to the Marines except for them to be careful. She felt sick to her stomach at being so helpless against the multiple options for evil her loyal troops faced.

  They covered two blocks in silence. The drones, however, warned them that the next block would be tough. There were gunmen on the roofs waiting for them. Vicky refused to call them snipers. They were equipped with the ubiquitous State Security machine pistol, good for pray and spray, but hardly an accurate weapon, even at short range.

  The sniper teams had been leapfrogging forward, one covering a roof in the fifth block up from the Park Block. As the troops moved into the fourth block, different sniper teams raced to the roofs of those tall buildings. Finally, both collected on the roofs of the third block across from the gunmen skulking about the roofs of the buildings only one block away from those on the Park Block.

 

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