by Eric Thomson
“Mister Takan,” Zack said, “if the militia took this Mathias, they'd have discovered you’re his cell leader in the Tianjin district, and they’re going to want to make their way up the movement’s ladder. Everyone eventually talks.”
He waited until the man nodded before continuing.
“We need to get you and your family out of here now. They know we’ve shown up, thanks to that damned drone and they’re smart enough to figure we’re here to warn you.”
“I suppose I should have figured this would happen when Jamie, that’s Mathias’ wife, called to tell me he hadn’t come home even though when the guys at the Horse and Bull saw him leave, he was sober and walking upright.”
Takan seemed to deflate under the realization that his quiet life had come to an abrupt end.
“Do you have a skimmer, sir, something that can carry you, your family, and us? We need to leave now.” The urgency in Decker’s voice seemed to revive him, and he nodded with some energy as if he’d come to a decision.
He turned towards the hallway and hollered a name. Moments later, a plump, pleasant-faced woman in working clothes appeared, wiping her hands.
“Marnie, it’s happened. We need to go. Grab the bug-out bags and get the boys. I’ll get the truck.”
Takan then walked over to a cabinet and pulled the doors open.
“Might as well take these, just in case.” He pointed at hunting weapons and boxes of ammunition. “Help yourselves.”
“Sir, is your family all here?” Decker asked, taking a scattergun and checking the action.
“No.” Takan shook his head. “My two sons and my wife are here. My daughter Kari is in Iskellian, staying with some friends.”
“Shit.” Zack slung the weapon over his shoulder and stuffed half a dozen ammunition packs in his pockets. “Can you get in touch with her and get her to go into hiding? Once the militia finds out that you’ve flown the coop, they’ll be looking for her. Leverage to get you to surrender.”
Takan suddenly looked like he was about to vomit.
“They wouldn’t.”
“They would. And once you surrender, she’s dead.” He checked his internal clock. “We have a few minutes. Call her, but make sure she doesn’t tell anyone where she’s going to hide. We’ll figure out how to extract her later. Right now we need to extract our own butts.”
The farmer pulled a standard civilian communicator from his pocket and ran a thumb over the screen, then held it up to his mouth.
“Honey, it’s Larn. We’re in trouble. When you hear this, get away, and hide, just like we talked about. Remember, we’ll always be looking out for you, just like when you were a little girl and liked to visit.”
He cut the transmission and grimaced.
“Voice mail. She’ll understand the moment she listens to it.”
“That wasn’t smart,” Decker replied. “If you had a pre-planned hideout, it wasn’t necessary to remind her of when she was a little girl. A good investigator can track that down in a few days, a week, tops.”
“You understood what I meant?” For the first time, panic crept into his voice.
“Yeah. I don’t know where, but I know what. Like I told Catlow, this isn’t my first dance, and I’m going to bet the militia has a few folks who’ve got some experience too if they tracked down Mathias and have you under surveillance.”
Marnie reappeared, trailed by two teenaged boys, each with a pack and a hunting weapon. She carried two duffles, handing one to Takan before taking the last gun from the cabinet.
“I thought you were going to pull out the truck?”
“Kari.”
The woman blanched. “Oh my God. Is she in danger?”
“I think she is, ma’am. But if we don’t get out of here, we won’t be able to help her.” Decker waved towards the door. “And we’re running out of time to do that.”
Larn Takan took one last look around, to imprint the image of a vanished life deeply into his memory in the hopes of a return some day, then he flung the door open and raced towards a large outbuilding, duffle in one hand and weapon in the other.
“Shall we?” Decker asked.
Within moments, a transport skimmer with a spacious cab and a large bed with high sides emerged from the shed, driven by whining fans that left a cloud of dust in their wake.
“Ma’am, I’d like you and the boys to get in with your husband. Catlow, Nolan, and I will ride in the back, where we have a good field of fire when the militia bastards get on our tail, which they will.”
Nobody even thought it strange that Decker, a newcomer to Garonne and to the cause, had taken charge. They could instinctively sense that he thought and moved like a professional rather than a colonist reluctantly drawn into the struggle for independence. They obeyed without a word.
“Where’s the best place to get under some sort of cover, dump this thing and head for the hills?” Zack asked.
“The river,” Catlow replied. “There’s no other place. We’ll go back in the way we came out.”
He shouted a few instructions at Takan, then jumped into the truck’s bed and wedged himself into a corner against the cab. Once Zack was on board, Catlow slammed his hand on the plasticized roof three times, the universal signal to get moving.
Dark specks in the distance caught Decker’s eyes moments after the truck lurched forward and began to pick up speed. He nudged his companions, gesturing towards the horizon with his chin.
“I’m going to guess that’s them, coming cross-country. If they haven’t spotted us yet, it’s probably just a matter of seconds before the damned drone relays some candid images of our escape.”
The truck got to the end of the lane and turned left onto the main road.
Decker dropped into a crouch and rapped on the cab’s rear window. One of the boys opened it, and he stuck his head inside.
“Are there any trails with a bit of cover you can take instead of staying on this road? You probably know the area better than the militia pukes. If we can drop out of sight, it’ll slow them down, even though it’ll take us longer to get to the river.”
“There’s an old track running along the edge of the Hartman spread just ahead. It goes right into his tree farm a few kilometers down. I think he’s cut a few trails that run along the foot of the ridge.”
“Do it.”
He pulled his head out of the cab and rose to his feet, eyes automatically locking onto the rapidly growing black dots.
“They’ve changed course to follow us,” Catlow said. “If they’re riding standard militia skimmers, they’ll be faster than we are.”
Before Zack could reply, the truck slewed to the right and exchanged the broad road for a narrow track running between a row of windbreak trees on one side and head-high maize stalks on the other.
“The buggers want to take us alive,” he said when they’d regained their balance. “They’ll either try to cut us off...”
He looked over the cab at the fast approaching tree line, “...which won’t happen quickly, or they’ll try to disable our transport. The trick will be to make them keep their distance.”
Something winked on the first militia skimmer and almost instantly, plasma streaked by the truck, incinerating a swath of maize stalks.
“That was a warning shot.” He pulled out his blaster and steadied his arm on the tailgate. When he saw Catlow look at him as if he’d lost his mind, Zack grinned.
“I know I’ve got no chance of hitting them at this range, but at least they’ll see us shooting back, which they won’t expect.”
He aimed slightly above the skimmer and pressed the trigger six times in rapid succession, sending a stream of plasma downrange. The effect was almost instantaneous. The vehicle’s driver braked hard and slewed to one side, hoping to throw off his aim.
Decker fired again, still without a hope of hitting anything, but it was enough. Seconds later, low-hanging tree branches whipped over the truck’s cab, forcing Catlow and Nolan down on their knee
s.
Zack holstered his blaster and turned around to sit with his back to the bed’s high side.
“We’re not out of the woods yet, to coin a phrase,” he said, eyes twinkling with amusement at Catlow’s theatrical groan, “but they can only come on one at a time and more importantly, right now they don’t know where we’re going.”
“What about the drone?” Nolan asked.
“Crap.” Decker slapped his forehead. “This is what I get for having too much fun with my gun.”
He pulled out his sensor and turned it upwards.
“Yup.” Zack nodded after a few moments. “It’s up there. I can’t tell whether it has a lock on us or not, but if it does and the militia have accurate maps, they’ll eventually figure out where we’re going to come out of the trees and wait for us there.”
“I wish we had a way of warning the rest of the platoon without tipping our hand to the militia. We could have had them come down to meet us and add some firepower to the little we have,” Catlow said, shaking his head with evident disappointment.
“Wouldn’t help,” Decker replied. “Right now, it’s just a case of someone – us – tipping off the Takans. If they figure out that we’re part of a platoon-sized patrol, they’ll put everything they can into finding us and more importantly, finding out where our home base is.”
“They’re still on our tail,” Nolan said, peering over the backboard. “I just got a quick glimpse of one of them before we turned the corner.”
“If only we had some mines,” Catlow muttered, “or even brought a grenade or two.”
“Let me try something,” Decker said, getting on his knees and peering back at the dark, earthen track running beneath a dense canopy. “Ask Takan to slow down.”
He steadied his blaster on the tailgate again and picked a tree to the left of the trail. A thick stream of plasma stitched the trunk half a meter above the ground, eating through the wood. The tree came crashing down across the trail just as they turned out of sight.
“I doubt it’ll stop the bastards for long, but let’s get busy and put down some more,” he told them. “Any little bit might make a difference.”
The two rebels took up firing stances on either side of Zack and aimed their own blasters at the tree line.
“I hope this Hartman fellow is a firm independence supporter,” Zack said after they stopped firing, “because I think we’ve just started a forest fire that’ll torch a fair bit of his acreage.”
“Is the drone still up there?” Nolan asked.
“Probably,” Zack replied, pulling out his sensor. “It can’t have missed our bit of target shooting.” He paused. “Yep. It’s there, still transmitting live telemetry, but it’s off to the side, so maybe it still doesn’t have a lock on us.”
One of the boys poked his head through the rear window.
“Dad says to tell you we’re about to run out of forest, and we’re still about a kilometer from where the river comes out of the cut.”
“Thanks.” Decker nodded towards the cab. “Let’s get set up to fire forward. If they don’t know where we’re going to come out by now, they’re a lot dumber than any militia I’ve known.”
“Damn drone. I wish I could shoot it down.”
“Good luck. The thing might not be flying beyond weapons range, but with the stealthing it’s got, we can’t do much. Get ready.”
The dark woodland trail quickly brightened and, moments later, they burst out into a field overrun by thick brambles and native giant ferns. Ahead of them, a militia skimmer blocked the way, its twin barrel plasma gun facing the onrushing truck.
Decker and the rebel soldiers opened fire, joined by Marnie and her two sons, hanging out the side windows. The militia troopers fired a warning burst over the truck, expecting Takan to slow down, but the farmer goosed his truck’s fans and sped on.
Another militia skimmer appeared to their left and turned towards the tree line, intending to deny them any attempt at a withdrawal back into the forest.
The truck rose higher and began to sway when it lost some of the air cushion beneath its skirts. Unlike the sleek military vehicles trying to box them in, the agricultural truck lacked control vanes to concentrate the fans’ output. Whether they’d clear the skimmer blocking the road ahead was questionable and even if they did, they’d expose the fans from beneath, giving the militia a chance to disable the truck.
Decker dropped down to yell a warning through the rear window when a stream of plasma connected with the car, at first creating smoking divots in the thin armor, then punching through the hull.
As soon as the last round vaporized what remained of the top hatch, Takan poured every available erg of power into his fans, clearing the top of the vehicle by millimeters. A heartbeat later, they were clear and headed towards the shadows at the base of the cliff where the Yangtze River spilled into the plains. The militia vehicle, its power plant damaged beyond repair, began to vomit thick black smoke.
Another burst of plasma came streaming down from the top of the cliff, targeting the second combat car, which prudently withdrew into the tree plantation.
Catlow began to laugh uncontrollably.
“That was Gareth. It had to be. No one can shoot that damn Shrehari gun like he can. They must have seen our escape from the farm and figured we’d need help.”
Decker slapped the rebel platoon leader on the shoulder and grinned.
“Good troops, your people. Anyone who shows that kind of initiative when the boss is away will eventually beat the militia pukes.”
They had little time to celebrate their narrow escape. Takan pulled the truck onto a rocky shelf overlooking the last bit of rapids and killed his fans.
“End of the line,” he shouted, jumping from the cab with his bag and gun. “Everyone out.”
Decker gave Catlow a nudge and winked.
“You’re up, buddy. Time to rejoin the others and go home.”
**
They met the rest of the platoon at the appointed rendezvous and simply kept walking. The militia would be trying to track down the machine gunner who was responsible for destroying a skimmer and killing its crew. After a four-hour hike, they stopped in a hollow beneath a rocky outcrop, invisible from above and impervious to sensors.
The farmers were used to hard labor and physical effort but were exhausted nonetheless by their narrow escape from imprisonment, interrogation, and almost certain death.
“I guess it’s true then,” Larn Takan said, accepting a mug of coffee from one of the troopers, “the militia have Mathias and got my name from him.”
“More like had Mathias,” Decker gently replied. “He probably didn’t survive interrogation.”
“Oh God. Kari.” Marnie Takan hand flew to her mouth while her face dissolved into a mask of anguish. “If they capture her, she’ll die.”
Decker nodded slowly.
“Let’s hope she got your message in time and took it seriously.”
Marnie began to shake as she tried to hold back convulsive sobs. Larn put an arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. He glanced at Zack with a pleading look that crystallized the idea the Marine had been nurturing for the last few hours.
He emptied his cup and got up to join Catlow and his squad leaders, who were discussing the next leg of their journey back to the ruined L’Taung fortress. They made room for him in their circle, and he squatted.
“I was just telling the guys how you saved our butts down there, Zack.”
“It’s nothing that anyone with good reflexes and a bit of common sense couldn’t have done.” He shrugged dismissively. “Can I have a word with you in private?”
“Sure.” Catlow stood and took a few steps deeper into the shadows. “What’s up?”
“The Takan daughter, Kari. After the militia fuck-up at the farm, they’re going to analyze the video feed and realize she wasn’t with us. They’ll be trying to track her down, and it won’t take long to find out she’s in Iskellian. They
find her, the girl will die, but not before spilling everything she knows, which is probably more than any of us figure. Sharp kids pick up a lot of stuff. I know I did when I was a teenager. That’s not going to be good for anyone.”
“Agreed.” Catlow nodded. “May I assume that you’ve come up with an idea?”
Decker smiled.
“More than just an idea, actually. I’ve got a plan that’ll kill a couple of birds at the same time, not least extracting the girl from under the militia’s nose.” He scratched his chin. “Though Verrill might not approve.”
“Verrill’s not here, and we can’t risk using the radio at this point, so it’s up to me. Remember your comment about showing initiative when the boss isn’t available? It’s one of those times,” Catlow returned Zack’s smile measure for measure. “So tell me.”
**
“How?” Harend slumped back in his seat and sighed. “How did we manage to lose the best link we’ve ever had into the rebellion? How did they know we were about to close in on Takan?”
He squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. The daily meeting with Governor Cedeno had not gone well – again - and he didn’t need another fiasco laid at his feet.
“Bad luck?” Kozlev shrugged. “Even if we have a leak somewhere, I doubt they’d have been able to mobilize an extraction force that quickly. This wasn’t just another rebel cell taking care of its own; it was a full-fledged military operation. Rebel cells don’t carry Shrehari-made machine guns around the countryside for shits and giggles. I’m sure this was a patrol sent to follow-up on news of Mathias’ disappearance. Someone put two and two together, and figured out what was going to happen next, someone who’s got a bit more background in this business than a bunch of farmers who headed for the hills with their hunting rifles.”
Harend nodded.
“Makes sense. We know they’ve been hiring specialists from off-world. Why not hire intelligence experts as well?”
“That’s what I think, but I’ll have my dogs sniff around to see if they find a rebel sympathizer in our ranks anyways. It’ll be good practice and who knows? But it’s not all bad news. The analysis of the drone’s telemetry did leave us one strand to pull on.” Kozlev’s cruel smile reappeared. “The Takan girl, Kari, wasn’t with them, which means she’s alone and vulnerable. I’ve made finding her the top priority for my people. We bring her in, she’ll give up enough to make it worth the effort.”