by Dietmar Wehr
“If we do that, we won’t be able to see if their missiles are still coming at us or fire auto-cannons at them!”
“It’s a risk you’ll have to take!” snapped Terrington.
“Roger that, General. Okay, our radar is off! I think now would be a good time to pray for us, General.”
“Already in progress, Captain.”
Wolfgar slammed his fist down on his chair’s armrest in exultation. The enemy’s third missile volley had been stopped cold. His third volley was getting close. The sudden move to stop radar scanning had worried him for a short while until the weapons officer had confirmed that some of their missiles were apparently tracking the enemy ship. How that was possible was not clear. Lucas has speculated that since the enemy ship’s trajectory had changed, then perhaps whatever had deflected Wolfhound’s radar was now oriented in the wrong direction relative to the incoming missiles that the enemy ship was no longer able to track. Whatever the reason, half of his third volley had veered away from their previous trajectory. The location of the enemy icon on the display was now just a computerized guess.
The display flashed and Wolfgar heard his weapons officer’s shout.
“WE GOT HIM!”
Wolfgar waited until the shouts from the rest of the Bridge personnel had died down. “Maybe. Let’s wait and see. Stay alert everyone.”
Terrington knew Fearless II was gone when the display flashed again. Without radar, the ship’s auto-cannon wouldn’t know where to aim and therefore hadn’t fired. Since at least one of the enemy’s warheads had detonated, it had to be on contact with Fearless II. He turned and walked quickly to the Command Station. Picking up a phone, he held it to his ear and said, “I want to talk to the President right now.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Strider knew something was wrong as soon as Retribution emerged from its final micro-jump to the edge of New Caledon’s no-jump zone.
“The radarsats are not scanning,” said the TO.
“None of them?” asked Strider as he looked over at Pavlov.
“No, Major. In fact, I’m not picking up any EM transmissions from the planet at all,” said the TO.
“There’s no way we could be too late,” said Pavlov.
Strider wasn’t so sure. “Send a tight beam message to PDC notifying them of our arrival and ask them what happened to the radar satellites.” The response came five minutes later.
“Incoming video transmission, Major. I’m switching it to the main display now.”
The image changed from the tactical view of the planet and its surrounding space to a picture of Wolfgar holding Samantha by the neck with his other hand holding a pistol aimed at her head.
“You couldn’t have timed your arrival any better, Captain, no…Major Richard Strider. As you can see, I have your lovely wife here. Your son is also nearby. My Wolfhound managed to destroy your planet’s defense ship, quite easily I might add, and we then gave your leaders an ultimatum. Offer no resistance and avoid the mass bombardment with atomic missiles or resist and die. They accepted my terms. Now I’m giving you an ultimatum. Land your ship in front of your legislative building and come out to face me, and your wife and son will be spared. You and I are going to have that personal duel that we almost had on Olympus. You can even wear a pistol belt with a gun. I’ll be armed with my knife. I’ve already given my crew orders that if you somehow kill me without being killed, they’re to release your family and your leaders and leave the planet without conducting any reprisals. My quarrel is solely with you, Richard Strider, not your planet. You have 30 minutes to land. For your wife’s and son’s sake, don’t be late.” The image disappeared.
“My God!” said Pavlov, “What do we do?”
“We land,” said Strider without any hesitation. “Take the ship down and land in front of the Legislature, XO. I have to get ready for the duel.”
When Strider got back to his quarters, he took out the wood box that Jaeger had given him as a gift before leaving Haven and opened it.
Fifteen minutes later, Strider was standing in front of the boarding ramp hatch as the ship was descending through the planet’s atmosphere. He activated the com panel on the wall.
“Strider to Command Deck.”
“XO here.”
“I’m ready. As soon as the ship touches down, lower the ramp.”
“Understood. Do you think his crew will leave peacefully when you kill him?”
“No, and I don’t think he’ll keep his word about not attacking the planet either. We’re only going to get one chance at this. You know what to do either way, whether I succeed or not. If Terrington’s still alive, he’ll be giving the signal. Be ready for it.”
“We’ll be ready. Good luck, Richard.”
“Thanks. I’m going to need it.”
Wolfgar watched in fascination as Strider’s ship slowly descended. So that was how they managed to defeat radar! If the ship’s orientation was controlled carefully enough, the flat sides would always be reflecting the radar energy in the wrong direction. Ingenious. He looked around him at the civilian leaders and senior military officers being held at gun point. A breakthrough in technology like that was a direct threat to all raiders. He would be negligent if he left the planet undamaged after killing Strider. No, he would have to blast this planet back to the Stone Age after all. And he would insist that King Traskonen reimburse Wolfhound for the cost of the missiles used to sterilize the planet.
Strider’s ship was now touching down. The boarding ramp began to descend immediately. With the ship only a hundred yards or so away, he could easily see Strider standing at the hatch threshold. Wolfgar nodded. Strider was wearing a gun belt. He had sensed Strider’s awkwardness with his pistol during their confrontation at the Olympian President’s reception party. If Strider had any brains, he would have practiced with his pistol, but it wouldn’t matter. Wolfgar prided himself on his skill with a knife whether it was throwing it or fighting with it. He’d lost count of how many men he’d killed with his knife over the years. Pistols were for lesser mortals.
Wolfgar turned to look at Strider’s wife and son who were standing behind and off to one side, guarded by two of his officers.
“Watch carefully, boy. Don’t turn away. See how a brave man faces death.”
Strider was now off the ramp and walking towards him. Wolfgar looked closely at his adversary who wore a plain dark grey coverall, black boots, black gloves, gun belt and holster with the strap undone. His expression surprised Wolfgar. He would have understood seeing fear or anger on Strider’s face, but he saw neither, only a cold, determined look.
As Strider walked, he took a careful look at Samantha and Troy, and at Terrington who was standing further back and to the right. Samantha looked terrified. Troy looked scared. Terrington had the barest hint of a smile, and when Strider looked at him, he nodded almost imperceptibly. A quick check of the surroundings showed contra-gravity armored craft hovering on all sides, a red wolf’s head painted on their sides. There were a lot of them. Strider suppressed the urge to smile.
Strider stopped when he was ten feet away from Wolfgar, who looked disgustingly confident, even though he was armed only with a knife in a scabbard hanging from his belt.
“I knew you would come, Major Richard Strider,” said Wolfgar.
“You said you would let my wife and son go if I showed up.”
Wolfgar laughed and shook his head. “No. What I said was that if you somehow managed to kill me, they would not be harmed, but,” he paused before continuing, “I’m feeling generous today.” He turned his head slightly while keeping his eye on Strider. “Let the woman and boy go.”
It took all of Strider’s concentration to resist the impulse to look at his wife and son. He had to keep looking at Wolfgar in case the man took advantage of the break in concentration to throw his knife while Strider was looking elsewhere. His peripheral vision told him that there was movement where Samantha and Troy had been standing.
�
�Well, Richard Strider? What are you waiting for now? Let’s get this over wi—”
Strider did what he had practiced in his quarters since leaving Haven. On Olympus, Wolfgar had bragged about burying his knife in one of Strider’s eye sockets. Strider’s head was unprotected, and he knew he had to move it from the position Wolfgar was bound to aim for. He raised his right arm and at the same time dove forward and to the left. When his outstretched arm was pointing directly at Wolfgar’s head, he touched his right thumb and middle finger together, thereby closing the circuit built into his glove and activating the custom-built firearm that was attached to his right wrist in such a way that the sleeve of his uniform had hidden it until now. The gun fired.
Wolfgar’s head jerked back as his right eye exploded. He had just thrown the knife, which had missed Strider, and was now falling backwards. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.
Strider’s body hit the ground as he saw Terrington bring his right wrist up to his mouth and say. “NOW! NOW!”
As the entire area exploded with noise, Strider aimed his arm at the two raider officers who, until a few seconds ago, had been guarding Samantha and Troy, and fired one shot at each man. Wolfgar’s men had been caught off guard by the fact that some of the wolf-head emblazoned contra-gravity armored vehicles were now shooting at them!
With his wrist gun now out of ammo, Strider pulled out his handgun, got up and ran over to Terrington who was trying to protect Samantha and Troy.
“GET YOUR FAMILY OUT OF THIS BATTLEFIELD!” yelled Terrington. Strider nodded and pulled his wife and son with him as he ran over to the nearest building. The building, which turned out to be a bank, had metal doors and thick walls. All three of them were panting when they got inside and crouched down in the nearest corner.
“What’s happening out there?” gasped Samantha.
“The General sprung his trap. We painted the combat vehicles from Nemesis with the same wolf-head symbol and deployed them all around the city, just in case something like this happened. When Wolfhound’s troops deployed, our combat vehicles quietly slipped into the overall deployment and took up positions behind Wolfgar’s vehicles. As soon as I killed Wolfgar, the General activated the ambush.”
“What about their ship?” asked Troy.
Strider grinned and nodded. “We’ve got combat vehicles set up at the spaceport too. They can’t penetrate Wolfhound’s armor, but they can fire into the open boarding hatch just like Karl did at Olympus. And if Wolfhound does try to lift off, Retribution is standing by to shoot her down.”
Pavlov twitched as Retribution’s hull was hit again by a shell fired from a combat vehicle. He didn’t know if it came from a raider firing on purpose or a friendly hitting the ship by mistake, but it didn’t matter. Retribution might not have collapsed-matter armor, but it did have a thick hull, and the lower half of the ship, where the vital equipment was, had extra armor protection. He focused his attention back to the main display that was showing a video image of the Wolfhound at the spaceport. It was fighting for its life, and losing. High explosive shell after shell was hitting it through the open and now jammed boarding hatch. And even though the ship was using its own turreted cannon to shoot back, some of the New Caledonian ground force combat vehicles were now so close to the ship that the turreted guns couldn’t point far enough down to target them.
“Stand by TO and Helm. I think she’s going to try to run very soon,” said Pavlov quietly. Even as he finished the sentence, Wolfhound lifted off with surprising velocity.
“THERE SHE GOES! EXECUTE PURSUIT, HELM!”
“Executing pursuit!” said the HO.
Pavlov realized that all his muscles were tense. Theoretically, Retribution could fire missiles at Wolfhound right now, but both ships were still in the planet’s atmosphere, and atomic explosions this close to the ground and the city would be dangerous to civilians. He had to wait until Wolfhound was high enough and, ideally, in open space before firing. With her boarding hatch still open and her boarding ramp a twisted wreck from being hit by cannon fire, her armored hull now had a vulnerable spot. With a hit even just close to the opening, the heat and concussion would penetrate into the ship and eviscerate the lower decks where the engines, power plants and jump drive were located. If the ship survived that kind of hit, it would be badly crippled, and the crew would have no choice but to surrender.
“One hundred miles altitude!” said the TO.
Pavlov nodded. That was high enough. “Fire one missile. Let’s see what happens.”
It took the missile less than two seconds to cover the intervening distance. If Wolfhound’s auto-cannons tried to fire at it, they missed. Probably due to turbulence from the ship’s passage through the atmosphere, thought Pavlov. The missile hit the bottom of the ship and exploded. When Retribution passed the expanding cloud and got a good look at Wolfhound, it was obvious that she had been badly hurt. She was no longer accelerating and in fact was quickly decelerating due to the planet’s gravity. The bottom quarter of the ship was caved in and red hot. The ship’s momentum was enough to carry her to the very edge of space before she started to fall back, the ruined curvature of the hull causing her to tumble.
“Retribution to PDC,” said Pavlov quietly. He didn’t know if anyone was still manning the Operations Room, but he had to try to warn somebody of what was about to happen.
“PDC here. Go ahead Retribution.”
“Wolfhound is crippled and is now falling back to New Caledon. I hope to God she’s not going to hit the city, but I can’t be sure of that. Over.”
“Understood. We’re still picking up the pieces here, but I’ll let General Terrington know. Suggest you hold your position for now, Retribution. PDC out.”
Strider huddled with his family until he noticed a significant reduction is the level of noise coming from outside. The shooting seemed to have stopped. He was about to peek outside to evaluate the situation when an AF lieutenant opened the doors and looked inside. On seeing Strider, he nodded and stepped all the way in.
“Ah, General Terrington asked me to find you, Major. It looks like the fighting’s over. He’d like to talk with you. I can keep an eye on your family for you while you’re doing that, if you wish.”
“I’ll be right out, Lieutenant.” Strider gave Samantha and Troy a quick hug and told them he’d be back quickly.
Strider was shocked by the carnage when he stepped outside. Burning raider vehicles were lying on their sides; bodies—mostly raiders, though not all— were scattered here and there; emergency workers were tending to the wounded and checking the political leaders Wolfgar had been holding at gunpoint. He looked around until he saw Terrington standing near one of the defending combat vehicles and jogged over to him.
“How are Samantha and Troy?” asked Terrington.
“Shook up, but physically unhurt,” said Strider. “How’d we do?”
Terrington shrugged as he looked around. “About as well as could reasonably be expected. Some of our civilian leadership were injured, two killed. It was too much to expect zero collateral damage, but the bottom line is we managed to pull it off. Pavlov stopped Wolfgar’s ship. She’s about to crash roughly thirty-four miles west of here. All of his ground troops are either dead, injured or have surrendered. Where in hell did you get that arm gun?”
Strider grinned. “A present from Karl Jaeger before I left Haven. He told me he had a hunch that I’d be facing Wolfgar again and had it custom made for me.”
“I wish there was some way to convince him to resign from his Navy and join the AF, but I suspect he’s not only highly competent but loyal too,” said Terrington.
“I’m sure of that, General.”
Terrington took a deep breath before speaking. “I know this looks pretty chaotic right now, but we really do have things under control. Pavlov’s been ordered to keep Retribution in the air for now. There’s nothing that I need you for, so why don’t you take your family home and report to me in the morning?”
“Thank you, General.” Strider saluted and started to head back to get Samantha and Troy when his gaze found Wolfgar’s body. He went over to it and looked down at his adversary. The gold trim of the wolf-head shoulder patch caught his eye. Crouching down, he cut it off with a small pocket knife. He decided he would place it in front of his father’s tombstone. As he turned away, he said, “Next stop, New Atlantis.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Thirty-nine weeks later:
Colonel Strider entered the Flag Bridge of his task force flagship, Dreadnought, checking the very large tactical display as he walked over to the command station. Task Force Strider, consisting of a new and very large Haven Navy battlecruiser and two New Caledonian Retribution-class heavy cruisers, was coasting at the edge of the New Atlantis star system. The three-month trip through hyper-space had concluded with all three ships arriving in scattered locations. It had taken them almost 24 hours to find each other and come together again. Given the distance from this system’s sun and the fact that all three ships had the same flat-surface geometry, there was virtually zero chance of being detected by either radar or visual observation, and Strider had taken advantage of those 24 hours to finalize his plans for the final move in the chess game with the raiders.