“I’m sure I do.”
Cockpit, Dropship Two, Besquith Base, Planet Moorhouse
“Missile, right 5:00 low!” Salty called. “Never mind,” he added a couple of seconds later as the missile flew off to the side; “it’s not guiding.”
“Do you see the Vindi?” Harv asked, scanning the field as he roared across it at 50 feet. “Shit!” he exclaimed as he yanked the stick to the left. The dropship slid past the Vindicator with only a few feet to spare.
“Some lights would have been nice,” Salty said when his heart started to beat normally again.
“No shit.” Harv pulled back and left and the ship banked in a climbing left-hand turn. “I’m going to take it around again. I didn’t see much last time.”
“Except the ship.”
“Except way more of the ship than I wanted.” Harv paused, then added, “I’ll be a little higher and slower; keep a good scan for missiles.”
“Wilco,” Salty agreed. “I think the last one came from the revetments. Mama must have missed one of them with her fireball from hell.”
“It must have been a heat seeker; I never got any indications from the warning gear. They’re small, and the best time to see them is when they lift off. Keep a good eye out.”
“You got it.”
The White Company, Barracks, Besquith Base
“What do you think, First Sergeant?” Colonel Moretti asked.
“At some point, they will have destroyed all of our cover, and we’re either going to have to flee or charge them head-on,” the senior enlisted man said. “Of note, I do not believe the latter course of action is survivable.”
“I agree, charging them is suicide, but we’re going to have to deal with them at some point. Do you think we can draw them in where we can take them with missiles from the side?”
“If you were in the tanks, would you want to come in here where your maneuverability would be restricted?”
“No, I wouldn’t, and I don’t think they will, either. We’ve got other problems. I just heard on the command net that this isn’t all of the armor; there’s more over where the spaceship landed.”
“Merda! More armor? Where did it come from?”
“No idea. I’m more worried about the ones trying to kill me at the moment, and I don’t see any way we can do this without some assistance.”
“Nor do I.”
“Well, let’s see what our illustrious leader can do for us.” Moretti switched to his radio. “Colonel Shirazi, Colonel Moretti. We’re going to need some support. We’ve got a full-fledged Zuul tank and five anti-air APCs down here at the barracks.”
East of the Starport, Besquith Base
Without warning, the Besquith evacuated the revetment, exiting on the far side of the facility from where Mama looked down on them from the top of a small hill. As much as running with a broken arm had hurt, it was nothing compared to how much it had hurt while crawling up the backside of the hill.
She couldn’t see the whole position, but it appeared all the aliens had left the area around the missiles. They still remained close, though, taking up defensive positions in the hills to the west where they could watch the starport.
Why would they leave the cover of the revetment? It was a great place to launch their handheld missiles.
Her unspoken question was answered moments later when, with a whirring noise, the missile system in the revetment came to life and spun around to point to the west. How could the system launch, though? It needed guidance info, and she had killed all their radars, hadn’t she?
The fires Mama had started had mostly gone out, so she scanned the area as best she could in the gathering gloom. Finally, she saw a flash of light as a small, dancing flame was reflected by a spinning radar. The missiles had guidance…and if the aliens had left the pit, they intended to launch.
She had to stop it.
Her laser pistol was useless from this range and there was no way she was throwing a grenade that far with her left hand. With her right, maybe, but that wasn’t an option. She pushed back one-handed from the crest then slid down the rest of the hill on her backside, her urgency causing her to go faster than she should have.
The last three feet of her slide was vertical, and she tried to stop or at least slow herself before she got to it. Without both hands, she couldn’t, and she dropped off the ledge to fall the remaining distance. Pain blinded her with a white hot flash, and she may have passed out momentarily, then she was up and running as best she could in the near dark.
The tiny hillocks were maze-like; despite being close to her objective, they kept angling her off to the side. Using a hillock slightly larger than the rest as a guide, she finally made it to her destination, only to find the revetment wasn’t where she had thought it was.
A missile lifted off to her right and she saw had missed the revetment by one small hill. The missile was a small one, a handheld one; there was still time. She could see the tips of the missile in the revetment and ran toward them.
The first missile lifted off the launcher while she was still 20 yards away.
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cockpit, Dropship Two, Besquith Base, Planet Moorhouse
“Mama’s fireball has died out so I’m going to bring on the night vision gear,” Harv said. He flipped a switch, and the screen enhanced the night’s ambient light.
“There it is,” Salty said, pointing. “Over there to the left.”
“Got it.” Harv maneuvered the craft to fly past the larger spaceship, high enough to go safely over it. “See anything?”
“Yeah, I got them,” Salty replied. “It’s not three tanks; it’s three APCs. Stupid Jehas don’t know tanks from APCs.”
“Even APCs will mess up the ship pretty badly if we let them.”
“True. How ‘bout this? Let’s not let them. If you come back around and run in from the north, I ought to be able to shoot them without hitting the Vindi.”
“You got it,” Harv replied, extending out away from the ship so he could loop around and come back in from the north.
“The tanks are calling us on the radio,” one of the Jehas called. “They say if we don’t surrender the ship in three minutes, they will destroy it. What should we do?”
“Don’t do anything,” Salty replied. “We will be there in two.”
“I heard,” Harv said. “We’re only going to get one pass at this before they destroy our ship, so make it good, would you?”
“Hey, you just get us there and let me take care of blowing shit up, all right?”
“Inbound, here we go.” He flipped a switch. “Master arm is on, gun is hot.”
Salty moved the joystick around and watched the gun tracking. He’d have to shoot quickly and switch targets even faster as the ship roared across the field at 500 miles an hour. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could do this. Just like in the simulator.
He found the Vindicator in the targeting scope and followed it down to the three dots nearby. The Besquith armor. “Got ‘em,” he said. “Stand by for in-range…”
“I got missile radar,” Harv said. “Launching countermeasures.”
Salty didn’t look up; he didn’t want to be blinded by the flashes. The range counted down…he squeezed the trigger…
Harv yanked the dropship to the left and up, causing the gun to lose the target.
“Damn it!” Salty said; “I had them. Get back on target or we’re going to miss them!”
“We had a missile I had to evade!”
“Long walk home, remember? Get us back on target!”
The range continued to count down. It was going to be close.
Harv rolled the dropship upside down in the turn and then flipped it back right-side up. Right on target.
Morton squeezed the trigger and the first APC came apart under the hammering of the dropship’s 50mm cannon.
“One down, shifting targets.” Salty moved to the next one in line.
> Harv saw the flash from the left at the same time the warning system went into a constant warble. “Radar missile launch! Evading!”
“No damn it; keep us still! Firing at the second!” On target. He squeezed the trigger and watched the cannon shells walk up the ferrocrete to the APC. It blew up after a couple of hits.
“Cycling to the third!”
Wham! The missile hit, the ship lurched, and the cockpit went black.
“Engines out!” Harv yelled. “We lost both electrical busses.”
“Get ‘em back! My gun’s dead, and we’re out of time!”
“I know,” Harv said. He looked out the cockpit window. From this angle, he could see the Vindicator and, by the light of the two burning APCs, the remaining APC sitting just long of them. He bit his lip as he sighed, and a tear glistened at the corner of one eye. He would have liked to have seen his daughter one more time. “I’ve got this.”
They were already below 200 feet of altitude. It didn’t take much…just a little push forward on the stick…
The dropship impacted just short of the last APC, and the rolling fireball of debris swept across the armored vehicle at 500 miles an hour, blotting it out of existence.
East of the Starport, Besquith Base
Its right motor out, Mama watched in horror as Dropship Two fell like a rock. Only 100 feet above the ground when the ship had been hit, it looked like Harv hadn’t had a chance to pull it out of the dive he had been in. The ship impacted the starport in a titanic blossom of flame.
Mama had failed. Worse, she could hear the Besquith on the other side of the revetment laughing and cheering the demise of the dropship. Bastards. If she only had her ship back, she’d…
It didn’t matter what she’d do with a ship; she didn’t have one. She did have her last grenade, though, and maybe the Besquith troopers would think the launcher had blown up on its own. As the missile system cycled back to its ‘ready’ position with a whirr of hydraulics, she pulled the pin with her teeth and rolled the grenade into the revetment. It came to a stop underneath the missile launcher and she began running to the north.
She ran as fast as she could, her pain driving her on through the fatigue. The grenade exploded behind her, with several smaller detonations as some of the ordnance cooked off.
As the sounds of the explosions ceased, she heard a number of howls; obviously the Besquith didn’t believe the system had blown up on its own. They had her scent and were coming after her.
Mama knew the Besquith had all the advantages. They had better weapons and weren’t wounded; she was already running on her last reserves of energy. It was only a matter of time until they caught her.
Second Platoon, First Company, Blood Drinkers
“We succeeded in shooting down the last of the humans’ ships,” Staff Sergeant Cahl-Ga advised. “I am leading some of the antiaircraft crews to find a saboteur, but I will send my platoon there immediately to assist you.”
“I believe the dropship crashed on members of my platoon,” Sergeant Creg-An replied. “I have not had contact with the APCs guarding the human spaceship in some time.”
“Let’s worry about the human soldiers first. Their ship doesn’t appear to be going anywhere. My platoon is on its way to your position; when it arrives, use it to kill them all.”
Asbaran Command, HQ Building, Besquith Base
“Colonel Shirazi…Handley. I’ve…laser fire…southeast.”
“This is Colonel Shirazi.” Nigel replied as he ran out of the headquarters building to get better reception. “Who is this and what do you have?”
“Private Handley, sir. I’ve got flashes of light down to the southeast in some little hills there. It looks like someone’s shooting down there.”
“There aren’t any Asbaran forces there,” Mason said as he followed Nigel out of the building.
“What do you think?” Nigel asked. “Is it a trick to draw us into the hills?”
“It could be, I guess…” Mason replied. “You got anything else, Handley?”
“No sir.” The private pointed to the southeast. “There was an explosion over there where the missile launchers were, then I saw what looked like laser fire a little further to the north of it.”
Nigel looked where the trooper was pointing and saw a flash.
“There!” Handley exclaimed. “Did you see it?”
“Yes, I saw it, and no I don’t think it’s a trick.”
“Then what is it?” Turk asked as he joined the group.
“I don’t…” Nigel said. “No, wait I do know who that is—it’s got to be one or more of our pilots. We’ve got to go help them.”
With a blast of jet fire, Nigel jumped toward the flash.
The two senior enlisted turned toward each other, but before either could say anything, a voice came over the radio.
“Colonel Shirazi, Colonel Moretti. We’re going to need some support. We’ve got a full-fledged Zuul tank and five anti-air APCs down here at the barracks.”
“I’ll take Second Squad and go help the White Company,” Turk offered. “I’ve got experience dealing with tanks. Go help the Colonel get the pilot.”
“Makes sense,” Mason said. “First Squad, you’re with me!” He turned and jumped in the direction Nigel had taken.
“Second Squad, let’s go kill a tank!”
East of the Starport, Besquith Base
Mama came to a sudden halt as the passage between the hills ended suddenly. Dead end; she was trapped. If she’d had two good arms, she probably could have climbed one of the hills and escaped the cul-de-sac…but she didn’t.
One of the Besquith howled; they were close.
There was nowhere to hide, although the cul-de-sac did have a rocky outcropping that would afford a little protection. She nestled down behind it and used it to steady her arm. She was spent, and her arm was twitching uncontrollably. Without the rock to brace her, she doubted she could have hit anything smaller than the house she grew up in.
Motion! She fired and was rewarded with a yelp, but then the alien jumped back behind cover. Several laser beams came from where the Besquith were hiding, but they weren’t close to her. She didn’t want to give her position away, so she held her fire, waiting for a target she could see.
The Besquith fired several more shots, then a small object landed in the center of the open area. She dropped behind the rock, snuggling down as far as she could. The grenade detonated. Although she was protected from the shrapnel, the concussion was amplified in the enclosed area, and everything became fuzzy as a high-pitched squeal filled her ears.
Trying to fight off the effects of the blast, she struggled to get to her feet, but a heavy weight hit her from behind, knocking her from behind the rock. One of the Besquith had climbed the hill behind her and had jumped on her from above.
She sprawled forward, her pistol flying free as she tried to use her good hand to break her fall. It didn’t help; she crashed down on her broken arm and darkness fell across her vision as an overwhelming wave of pain hit her. When she could see again, she found she was trapped. Not only was the alien that had hit her from behind holding a rifle on her, but several more Besquith had entered the cul-de-sac, and one was already picking up her pistol.
She tried to rise, but the enemy behind her kicked her arm out from under her and she collapsed on her broken arm again. The Besquith flipped her over onto her back, and the alien with her pistol came to stand over her.
“You have caused us some problems,” it said. “Do you know what we do to people who cause us problems?”
“Bore them to death threatening them?” Mama asked.
The Besquith kicked her, sending new waves of pain across her body. “No, your death will be much more…exquisite. I will kill you with your own weapon, but not until after you watch us drink your blood.”
He looked up, suddenly. “Entropy!” He pointed the weapon at Mama and pulled the trigger.
East of the Starport, Besquith Base
Nigel didn’t need to look to see if the alien was dead; instead, he spun to face the other Besquith in the group, but Top and several other troopers came down on top of them. Those that didn’t land on top of the aliens used their swords or knives to kill the creatures, or simply hammered down on them with armored fists. The fight was over almost before it started; most of the aliens hadn’t even seen the humans coming.
Nigel turned to the human who was laying on the ground. It was Mama, and she had been shot through the chest. She wasn’t quite dead yet; her chest was still rising and falling.
“Medic!” he radioed.
“Almost…made it,” the aviator said.
“Stay still,” Nigel said. “There’s a medic coming.”
“Killed a…bunch of the bastards.” The light went out of her eyes.
“Move!” Shrewlet ordered. She had already taken off her suit, and she ran up with a first aid kit. She checked out the pilot and shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir; she’s gone.”
No! He had only been a couple of seconds too late; he had seen the laser blast that killed her. Damn it! He turned and kicked a rock outcropping nearby, causing two yellow lights to illuminate in his display. It wasn’t fair! If he’d just been a little quicker or sent someone earlier, she’d still be alive. Damn it!
* * * * *
Asbaran Solutions (The Revelations Cycle Book 2) Page 25