Savage Fugitive

by Patrick G Cox

  Harry and his team took full advantage and melted along their pre-planned route, joined now by the heavily laden Canids as they fled toward their well-concealed access to the transport tube. The Coxswain was close and Ferghal on his way when Harry ran full tilt into a Consortium trooper. Both of them fell to the ground in a tangle of arms, legs and weapons.

  Harry recovered first and clubbed the unfortunate man into unconsciousness, grabbed his weapons, and flung himself into cover. The rest of his team opened fire on the Consortium troopers who ran to cut off Harry’s escape. They were still not clear. The Coxswain’s team ran straight into the middle of the fight and joined in the desperate struggle that had become a hand-to-hand battle between individuals.

  Harry and his people were outgunned, outnumbered and outclassed, but they put up a desperate fight. The troopers gained the upper hand, and Harry was almost at the point of ordering his men to surrender when Ferghal arrived with a large group of Canids. Rapidly the position was reversed.

  The Sergeant now in command of the surviving Consortium troop called, “Call the Rotties off! We surrender.”

  “Cease fire,” shouted Harry as the man he had been grappling with looked round in confusion. “Throw down your weapons and we will not harm you,” he added in a quieter tone as the tumult stilled. “Swain, disarm them all, please, and see to the wounded. Ferghal, thank you, my friend — another minute and we must have surrendered to them.”

  “So I could see.” Ferghal’s face was tense. “But I fear we must hurry. They have called for air support and beyond yon hill are two of their vehicles containing some of our people.” He indicated the Sergeant. “This was their guard, I’m thinking. What should we do with them?”

  Harry thought quickly, not easy to do because he was badly shaken by just how close the fight had come to being lost. “We take them and their transport with us — come, we will have to move fast. Use our link to disable the beacons on the transports. I will deal with the release of our comrades and attempt to divert the airmen.” He mopped at the blood running from a cut on his scalp then tried to ease the pain in a twisted ankle. “We have no choice but to keep you with us as prisoners,” he told the Consortium Sergeant. “But we will require you to wear blindfolds when we reach our destination.”

  Maddie Hodges limped up to him, her face smeared with dirt and blood oozing from a scalp wound.

  “Hodges, are you wounded? Thank you for your defence — those troopers would have had me without it.”

  “I’m fine, sir, just a scratch. The bastard that gave it to me isn’t, though. And now I’ll need to replace my flags.” She waved the bloodied stick in her hand and grinned. “I said being your signals op was more fun than my usual role, sir, but I didn’t realise it could be this much fun!”

  Chapter 23 — Heron’s Hellions

  Colonel Rees was furious. “How the blazes did this go wrong? How did a bunch of runaways manage to take on armed troops in armoured vehicles and not only steal our weapons and get away, but take some of our people prisoner?”

  “It was very well planned and executed.” The Major struggled to keep his own temper. Like the Colonel, he had had a disturbed night. “They took Camp Two by surprise, and knew exactly how to disrupt the perimeter defences. The transmitters were blocked, which prevented the Commander from sending out an attack report. Charges knocked out the perimeter barriers and the emplaced weapons, as well as the projectiles they used against the troops when they responded.”

  “But that doesn’t explain how they managed to take out the four assault units. What went wrong there?” The Colonel consulted a tablet. “We have over sixty killed, injured or taken prisoner, and all we have to show for it is one of theirs dead and several possibly injured. On top of that, they’ve now got another forty on their side since they got away with our prisoner detail, and a lot of weapons — in our own transports!” The tablet hit the table with a thud.

  “There was confusion when our air strike got there. The prison vehicles were signalling their normal code and following the route as if returning to Base,” the Air Commander responded. “And we had to deal with some form of missile — both of my strike craft were damned lucky to return.”

  “What kinds of missiles? Bloody bows and arrows?”

  Ignoring the sarcasm, the Air Officer replied, “They took damage as they made a low sweep to investigate a suspicious contact. One took a direct hit when he flew into the missile, and the other was peppered with projectiles, which seem to be mainly small stones. We’ve never seen anything like the weapons they used, and they have no electronic signature, thus the surprise attack. Our scanners picked up no signals beforehand.”

  The accommodation deep underground, though comfortable, provided no direct means of observing what was happening on the surface. With his ankle badly sprained, Harry was more or less confined to his quarters while Rasmus and the others attended to the replenishment of their rockets, mortar bombs, and the development of some improved missiles. Several weapons specialists among the Fleet prisoners Harry’s team had freed from the Consortium compound were helping set up a factory to build copies of the captured plasma weapons under Rasmus’s supervision.

  Alone, he had time to consider the results of their assault, and the consequences. They’d had a lucky escape, but it was far too close a call. Unfortunately, all of the medical equipment and many of the heavier weapons, the main object of the raid, were lost. On the positive side, they now had two transport vehicles hidden in their host, and the weapons captured would give them an additional capability.

  What weighed most heavily on Harry’s mind was the loss of one of his men, Will Kemp. Will had fallen in the close hand-to-hand engagement just before Ferghal intervened. He was troubled by the deaths on both sides. Losses were to be expected in battle, he told himself, but he took no pleasure in it, even in the death of an enemy.

  Ranji Singh suffered a burn from a plasma bolt that thankfully brushed past him but did not hit him with full force, and nearly everyone was nursing some cuts or bruises from the desperate fight in the scrub.

  Then there had been the air strike. Efforts to interfere with the Consortium’s airborne AI network had failed. They simply could not hold the link to them long enough. Ferghal had managed to launch five of his missiles in rapid succession, striking one of the aircraft as it passed low over the battery. The other aircraft had sheared off only to be caught by the shower of debris from two bursting charges.

  Now they had two dozen prisoners to care for and an additional forty of their shipmates.

  Luck had been far too much of a factor, and Harry was deeply aware that any future operations would have to be much better planned.

  He looked up as Ferghal joined him and settled into a chair. “That was too close run for comfort,” he said, rightly deducing Harry’s thoughts.

  “I know it, my friend, and Will has paid for my oversights. I will have to consider carefully what we do next, for they will now be alert to us and to our weapons.” He indicated his swollen ankle. “I have little better to do at present than to create more mischief in their system.”

  “They will enjoy that!” Ferghal laughed. “I have put the Coxswain to work on screening our new comrades, and Jim Moroti to caring for our Consortium prisoners, who seem mightily disquieted by our alliance with Rathol and his people.”

  “The prisoners are another consideration. How do they fare? We must take care they do not see or learn too much in case we must turn them loose again.”

  “They did not enjoy the blindfolding while they were taken below ground and transported to a separate holding area where they can see nothing of importance.” He glanced at Harry then down at his hands, not wanting his emotions to show. “You were close to being killed, my friend. This start has won us a respite, but it was too close — altogether too close for our comfort.”

  “I am all too aware of it,” Harry acknowledged. “I do not intend to make another attempt u
nless we can be much better prepared. Your rockets did tremendous damage, though, and show a need for some cannon. Our mortars are effective, but we need something which throws our projectiles horizontally, or, better still, can fire grape shot.”

  Ferghal eased back in his chair and stretched out his legs. “I have an idea for another type of rocket — one that can be fired from the shoulder like the small one we already use, but bigger and more powerful. I shall explore it.” He stopped as a rather petite Canid entered the room, one he now recognised as a female. Compared to the males, the females were shorter in stature and smaller boned.

  The Canid placed a bundle before Harry and indicated she wished him to open it.

  He did so, not sure of what he might find.

  “A portable med-unit! Excellent.” He looked up to thank her, and saw that his visitor had stepped back in alarm at his raised voice. “No, no, it’s alright. This is just what we need.” He smiled to ease her tension, and she visibly relaxed. The device was similar to a type used in the Fleet to heal small wounds on the extremities such as the arms and legs. “Here, Ferghal, I say, where is our translator?”

  The growls, yips and grunts emanating from the equipment stored on a shelf to one side revealed its position. Ferghal quickly retrieved it as the Canid replied. “Raki sends you this. It was found in the Chambers of the Healers. He thinks you have need.”

  “We do indeed,” replied Harry. “My thanks to Raki.” The Canid gave a slight bow of her head and departed.

  To Ferghal he said, “Help me up, please. I think this will help Ranji and the others who need healing quickly. I must take it to them and ensure it is put to use. How is Maddie . . . ComOp Hodges doing? She fought like a wildcat. I think she actually gored one of the Cons with a signal flag, it was that bloodied, but I hesitated to ask.”

  “Our Maddie is in fine fig, and has been joined by several others of her gender — among them three more ComOps and two Medics. Maddie has them well in hand.” He grinned. “And you’re right about her skill with flag weapons. I am told there is a Consortium trooper with a portion of the semaphore staff embedded in his thigh.”

  Harry chuckled at the image that conjured. “His thigh, you say? A close one, then.”

  Ferghal laughed. “The way she tells the story, he walked away from that confrontation with some difficulty, or should I say limped, and he’s lucky she missed her aiming point!”

  Harry winced at the mere thought of such a direct hit, but a smile tugged at his mouth. “Is he among our prisoners?”

  “No, we left him and their other wounded for the Consortium to sort out.”

  The attack ran smoothly despite the stiffened opposition. The extra men gave them enough people to mount a serious assault, especially when combined with the growing number of Canids proficient in the use of the weapons acquired in their raids of the Consortium Base. Reaching his objective, Harry operated the doors. Warrant Officer Kellerman tossed in a grenade, and the Rates stormed into the dome as soon as the grenade exploded.

  Harry entered to find his men dealing with an injured Consortium trooper and several others in the process of being disarmed. A voice brought him up short even as his men began to strip out the equipment they wanted.

  “Heron? Are you insane? You could have killed our people!”

  He would know that whiny nasal voice anywhere. He turned to face the speaker. “Lieutenant Clarke,” he said, greeting his erstwhile superior as politely as he could. “I trust that you are not here as a patient of their sawbones, sir.”

  “What the hell are you playing at? You’re endangering everyone, not just the fools who have followed you.”

  His nose wrinkled and he sniffed in disgust. “And by your unkempt appearance and filthy stench, you’ve not bothered to maintain civilized standards either!”

  Harry enjoyed watching the Lieutenant’s face register his shock at his wild appearance. “A little difficult under the circumstances, sir. I’m afraid we have had to make do without showers and the luxuries so abundant here in our enemy’s compound that you’ve no doubt enjoyed immensely.” The Warrant Officer joined them. “Warrant Kellerman, get the equipment we came for, and let’s get out of here before the garrison can reorganize themselves.” To Lieutenant Clarke, he said, “We have need of some of their med-units. I trust you will help us requisition them.”

  A renewed uproar outside warned of an attempt by the Consortium to retake the initiative, and the distraction gave the Lieutenant a chance to waffle in his response, so he said nothing.

  Harry felt as if he were dealing with a stubborn child. “You are welcome to accompany us and to seize your freedom, sir. I assume, of course, that you have not given your parole to the Commander here. If you have, I will not ask that you break your word.”

  “You must be mad!” Clarke looked genuinely alarmed. “There’s no bloody way I’ll come with you lot! They’re hunting you and O’Connor and everyone with you, and they have orders to shoot first. It’s bloody madness to go on like this. You’re putting everyone in danger by this stupidity, but why should that surprise me? That’s what got us dumped onto this shithole planet in the first place!”

  Harry was tempted to respond with his words and fists when the Warrant Officer returned and intervened. “Leave Mr. Clarke to me, sir. He’ll bloody sell the lot of us out to save his own skin. You get the lads out and the weapons away. I’ll make sure that this—” he snorted in derision, his eyes locked on the lieutenant’s chalky face, “—this officer doesn’t betray you or help his Con mates outside.”

  Harry understood the Warrant Officer’s disdain for Clarke, but he had to set an example. “Mr. Kellerman, I am sure that Mr. Clarke will take care not to assist our enemies. Move our people out. Take the weapons and as many of these med-units as you can carry, but spare one.”

  The Warrant Officer seemed to struggle briefly and was about to obey when Lieutenant Clarke’s personal demons spilled out into a tirade. “So, now it’s Warrant Kellerman is it? Well, you can be sure I won’t forget your insubordination and your threatening a superior officer. I’ll have you on a charge as soon as this business is settled. You can count on it.”

  “Then you’d better watch your back every moment, sir! Bloody sold Mr. O’Connor to the Cons as soon as they laid eyes on us – and you couldn’t wait to surrender the rest of us either. Well, we’re out and giving the bastards hell while you live in nice cushy quarters. My lads and yours have been working their asses off manufacturing stuff for the Cons while you’ve sat back and enjoyed yourself. Don’t give me the ‘respect your rank’ bit. The rank and uniform, yes. The bastard wearing it? Not unless you earn it, you twat, and you’re a long way from doing that — ever!”

  “Warrant Kellerman!” Harry barked. “Enough. If you continue this verbal assault, the charge will be mutiny. You will hear from the Coxswain as soon as we return to our base. Now get our men out of here and back to the transport. Immediately, if you please!”

  For a moment, it looked as if Warrant Kellerman would disobey him. Then he snapped to attention and saluted. “Yes, sir.”

  Harry looked at the outraged Lieutenant, whose face was an unhealthy florid red at this point. In a calm, level voice that betrayed no emotion, Harry said, “I apologise for my Warrant Officer’s disrespect. I shall ask that you give me your word that you will not reveal our encounter to the enemy or the directions you may have heard as we worked. Do I have your word, sir?”

  The Lieutenant hesitated, his darting eyes betraying his thoughts. He nodded briefly. “Yes, okay, whatever. Just get out of here and leave me alone, but I won’t forget your insolence or your defence of that man either. You can count on it when we are released.”

  “If you say so, sir.” Harry knew there was no way he could trust this man. “I suggest that you get into a med-unit, sir. We will be detonating some charges as we leave, and that will be the safest place to keep your body parts intact.” He waited to see the Lieutena
nt hurriedly insert himself into a unit and then instructed the medical AI to administer an anesthetic dose.

  Harry joined his retreating group and made his escape, firing the fuses for the placed mines and charges as he did so. The Consortium troops followed at a cautious distance. Experience had taught that following Harry’s raiders too closely resulted in casualties. Even so, the explosions caught them unawares and discouraged further pursuit.

  Harry was surprised to find that they had acquired several new recruits, though these all seemed to be nursing partly healed injuries.

  Warrant Kellerman acknowledged his question with a grin. “Couldn’t leave them behind now, could we, sir. They wanted to come, so we liberated the lot of them. Sorry about Mr. Clarke, sir. Old story — him and me have a history, but I’ll place myself on a charge as soon as we get back, sir.”

  “That will be best. You must realise that I cannot overlook your having threatened the Lieutenant, whatever the provocation,” said Harry. “He is, after all, a senior officer, despite his odious ways. See the Coxswain and give him a full account of it. I’ll see him as soon as you’ve done so. It will have to wait, of course, until we are reunited with our proper authority, but make a record of it now, please.”

  “I will, sir.” He studied Harry for a moment. “And I’ll say this now, sir, you and Mr. O’Connor are something else, not like the normal run, and light years different to Mr. Clarke’s sort.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment, Mr. Kellerman. We’d best leave it there, if you please, but thank you.” Harry was flattered, but wary of inviting familiarity.

  The outburst had unsettled and reminded him that the command of men depended on trust and respect. If the men did not trust you, or you could not earn their respect, you could not lead effectively. He hoped he would never lose the trust or the respect of these or any other people under his command.