Deathangel
Page 19
Tara looked around the containers, firing her hand-held machine gun as she studied the Cochkala position. There were too many forces oriented on them, and if one of the skiffs in the center pivoted a mere ten degrees toward them, it would put them at significant risk. “Not if we want to fight another day.”
“With all due respect, this mission sucks.” Rains grunted. “Damn.”
Tara laughed but didn’t respond. No shit.
She leaned out and fired again. The armored attack was fully stalled. Without flyers and with at least two-thirds of the armored force rendered useless, that left the CASPers. Whatever Ibson had up his sleeve, along with her two mechas, had to be enough to take down the Cochkala. Tara glanced at the indicator. “One minute to Lucille.”
“She’d better get this shit right, fast,” Rains said. His words devolved into a thick, spasming cough.
Tara’s brow furrowed. “You okay over there?”
“Yeah,” Rains wheezed and cleared his throat. Suddenly sounding badly congested, he said, “Let me know when to go.”
Tara nodded and risked another look around the containers. Aside from the stalled, smoking columns of armor on the wide tarmac, the scene was quiet. Across the smoky tarmac, the Cochkala ringed their ship—the classic “come and get me” tactic used by their mercenary forces when stalling for time. Hard to kill and harder to engage, their sleds gave them defensible positions and significant cover. With the flyers down and the armor stopped, the only way to penetrate their defense was painfully obvious. The Cochkala continued to lay down suppressive fire, but there was nothing returning fire, and Tara’s heart sank. She licked her suddenly dry lips and slowly pressed the transmit button.
“I think it might be down to us to do something really brave or really stupid, Rains.”
He didn’t reply for several seconds. When he did, she heard a raspy chuckle. “You know when I decided to go through with it and become a Peacemaker, Tara?”
The abruptness of his response caught her off guard. There wasn’t time for conversation, but she smiled. “Tell me.”
“About three weeks into Peacemaker U.” Rains paused as he leaned out to fire on the Cochkala. A fusillade of rounds came back at him. “There’s a simulation we did, not unlike your big Oogar shooting gallery one. Right? The whole idea is you can’t win. You can’t even compete with the stakes in play. It’s designed to test your will. To test how far you’d go and your mindset in impossible situations. I loved that simulation. You know why?”
Tara shook her head as she leaned out to fire on the Cochkala. “Because it wasn’t a test of how far you’d go?”
“Precisely.” Rains laughed. “Facing that kind of shit, with little ammunition and no support, you expect to die. You can either piss in your pants or you can do something unexpected. It might be tragic or fucking heroic. The line between those two is pretty damned thin. Sometimes you have to do the unexpected and stupid. Ready when you are.”
Tara grinned. “Roger that.”
<
Tara’s heart leapt. “Lucille. Get Thunder Six on the frequency, now!”
<
Tara pressed the button with her left hand. “Thunder Six, this is Deathangel 25, do you read me?”
A few seconds later, she heard Ibson’s gruff response. “I’ve got you, 25. I see your position. What are your intentions?”
Tara laughed out loud. “Something stupid or heroic. You’ve got an armored force in disarray, and your CASPers are getting ready to attack. If they waltz into that maelstrom, it’s all over for all of us. We’re not planning to die here today.”
“That makes two of us, 25,” Ibson replied. “I have CASPers preparing to charge and a MinSha infantry force moving to flank from the east.”
Directly across from us.
Tara’s mind worked quickly. “Thunder Six, standby twenty seconds.”
Looking down into her cockpit, Tara selected the Force 25 radio frequency. There was a chance they could do exactly what they intended, but it would require a lot more risk than she wanted to accept.
“Vannix? You there?”
The Veetanho replied instantly, “Roger, Tara. I’m in Molly’s cockpit and prepared to support.”
“Can you fly that thing?” Tara asked. She’d assumed Peacemakers had a vestige of flight training at their academy, but she’d never bothered to confirm it—a lapse in judgment she needed to rectify in more ways than one. If she was going to deploy with Peacemakers, she needed to know exactly what they could and could not do.
“Affirmative, Tara. I just need the control code sequences to unlock the shuttle’s flight computer.”
“Lucille?” Tara asked.
<
Tara nodded. “Not her. She’s rock solid, Lucille.”
<> Lucille replied. <
“Listen closely, Lucille,” Tara replied and switched to the open frequency. “Vannix? I want you to take off and chase their buddies. That ship is still in the atmosphere at sixty kilometers. The ground forces will engage you—at least I’m counting on it for ten to fifteen seconds. Fire the cannon at them. Pick a target in the center of their mass. That will allow Rains and me to assault their position and get close enough to those skiffs to do damage. You’ve got to get up fast and punch it across the Cochkala formation. Lucille will handle defense. All you have to do is stand on the gas pedal, so to speak. You good with that?”
“Entropy, yes I am,” Vannix replied. Tara could hear the smile in her voice. “Thirty seconds to launch. Alert Thunder Six I’m executing this maneuver, please.”
Tara was already punching the frequency. “Thunder Six, this is Force 25, prepare for a diversion. My shuttle is going to launch. The second the furry fuckers lock onto it, we’re assaulting. Are your forces ready to support?”
* * * * *
Chapter Seventeen
Victoria Forces Command Center
Victoria Bravo
Combat situations came down to which side got the breaks. Terrain was always a key consideration for a commander, but in a situation where the enemy created its own terrain or, on those rare occasions where every other variable on the battlefield was equal, sometimes it came down to who got the most breaks. The Cochkala ship served as their beachhead. On the far side of the ship was the rocky, “no go” terrain of the surrounding high ground. Even if Ibson could have moved forces there, they would’ve been exposed, without cover or concealment. The Cochkala had known exactly what to do to strain his meager forces. In the first minutes of combat, before he’d even reached the command center, his flyers were wiped out by three missile platforms that were now the middle of the Cochkala semicircular position around his ship. His armored forces, which he’d thought capable of using significant speed, firepower, and shock to get through the Cochkala weapons, lay two-thirds decimated on the ground. His best commanders, Novotny and Matzke, were dead, along with their crews.
The Cochkala didn’t appear to be preparing to leave. They’d laid in their defensive position and thrown down the gauntlet. If Ibson and his forces wanted to win, they’d have to take the battle to the Cochkala. They’d managed to take away Ibson’s two best assets on paper—the flyers and the armor. With no flyers and only one platoon of tanks remaining, the bulk of the assault would be up to the CASPers.
Which is exactly what my pilots want.
Yet, he hesitated. The Cochkala weapons, especially the skiff-sleds, had proven hard to kill and capable of standing up to significant frontal firepower. They had to have a disadvantage. Most armor was weak on the top or at the rear, but he couldn’t get to them. They were in perfect position on his front door step. He fought do
wn the anger threatening to rise and rob him of his critical faculties. There would be a chance, if they survived, for him to kick Governor Watson’s ass all the way to the mansion and back for cutting his forces for the sake of Galactic Union prestige. If they could still make it happen, and the guilds were interested in establishing offices and administrations there, they would have to provide their own security forces. They could deal with threats like the Cochkala deception and attack.
His looked at downtown Lovell City, smoking from a dozen fires. Jaw clenched, he swore he’d deal with that later. Once he figured out how to clear the Cochkala from the field he would—
“Thunder Six, this is Force 25. Prepare for a diversion. My shuttle is going to launch. The second the furry fuckers lock on to it, we’re assaulting. Are your forces ready to support?”
Ibson blinked. A diversion? With two CASPers?
He pushed the transmit button on the headset’s earpiece. “Force 25, Thunder Six. Need specifics on your intentions.”
“Wait one, 25,” Mason replied. Three seconds later, the icon for an unidentified aerial threat illuminated near the shipping containers on the west side of the airfield about two hundred meters from the Cochkala position. Transponder data turned the icon free.
“I show your shuttle moving,” Ibson said slowly. “Is that all you’ve got?”
“That’s the air support,” Mason said. “I have two CASPers ready to charge.”
Well, fuck.
Ibson looked at his forces arrayed on the Tri-V and frowned. One tank platoon, fifteen CASPers, and the MinSha infantry were in their forward positions. Two of his tank platoons, and his most experienced combat leaders, lay strewn across the tarmac in burning tanks. The Cochkala hadn’t moved, and they’d managed to hold his forces off without batting an eyelash. Force 25 wanted to fight, and his MinSha infantry were still in position.
But it’s not enough. There has to be another way. He was about to speak, to ask his commanders for recommendations, when inspiration struck.
Sonuvabitch!
“Force 25, Thunder Six. Wait one. Out.”
Fingers flying on the keyboard, he pulled up the stores and ammunition for all his units. With a quick adjustment, he retrieved the same information from the two CASPers under Mason’s command. The MinSha had moved to the eastern end of the airfield without being discovered. There were three sections of CASPers deployed in a semi-circle facing the Cochkala forces. They were in cover and protected for the moment. Mason and her wingman were positioned on the far west side. The tanks were in the hangar complex, awaiting deployment orders. The plan came together quickly.
The tanks would start the assault by lobbing indirect fire into the Cochkala position. Hammerhead Six, Captain MacFollet, would use his tanks like artillery pieces. It wasn’t going to be super effective, but it would give the Cochkala a few seconds of panic. As the rounds fell, the three CASPer sections would bound forward. Captain Blake in Liberty Six would lead the charge from her position on the left flank. Bounding forward, she could clear enough ground for Major Vuong in Avenger Six and Captain Hogshead in Warthog Six to move their sections forward. As they moved, Hammerhead Six would scream to the west, take up a supporting position behind Mason, and pepper the Cochkala forces with direct fire. They would pivot their defense to take on the CASPers and the tank threat. That would open the east side of their position just enough for Lieutenant Whirr’s infantry forces to assault and penetrate.
It will work.
It has to work.
Ibson took a deep breath and pushed the transmit button. “All stations, Thunder Six. I say again, all stations, this is Thunder Six. Here’s how we’re going to skin the rodents. Listen up. Break.
“Hammerhead Six, you’re going to play artillery. Lob high-altitude rounds into the Cochkala position. Hitting their ship is authorized, but primary targets are their ground forces, especially those missile platforms. On order, move to support Force 25 by direct fire. How copy so far?”
“Thunder Six, Hammerhead Six. Copy all. Orienting tubes now. Say when, and we’ll make it rain. Out.”
Good.
“Roger, Hammerhead Six. Next, CASPer elements, you’ll bound forward with Liberty Six in the lead. Objective is a double feint to draw the Cochkala fire and have them prepare for a synchronized attack by pivoting their defense in your direction. You’ll move forward by sections until you reach the closest shipping container cover points. Once you get there, we’ll set for the assault phase. You copy, Liberty Six?”
“Thunder Six, Liberty Six acknowledges,” Blake replied. “This one’s for our fallen.”
“Roger, Liberty Six, break.” He released the transmit button for a second and clicked it again. “Avenger Six, you have command of the field. I say again, you have command of the field. Once the CASPers move forward, I’ll focus on the breaching force.”
“Avenger Six acknowledges Thunder Six,” Vuong replied. His voice was soft. “I’ve had about enough of this shit.”
Gods, haven’t we all?
“At the assault position,” Ibson continued, “Force 25 will be the diversion along with Hammerhead Six’s tanks. Force 25 will feint toward the enemy position and get their attention. The Cochkala will again pivot their defenses, believing the CASPers are pinned down and Force 25 is the main effort. When we’re fully involved, Lieutenant Whirr, you’ll attack their weak side. How copy?”
“Thunder Six, this is Mantis Six,” Whirr replied. There was a hint of a smile in her voice. “We’re in position and ready to assault.”
Ibson nodded. “You’ve got the straw plan, everyone. Priority targets are those missile platforms, then the skiff-things. After that, we wipe the fuckers off the tarmac. No escape. No surrender. Standby to execute on my command. Thunder Six, out.”
He took a deep breath and looked at the darkened, expectant faces in the command center. A thought flashed through his mind, and he smiled.
It’s one for the money. Two for the show. Three to get ready.
Are you ready motherfuckers?
Ibson took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Force 25, you are cleared to launch your shuttle. Hammerhead Six? Once the shuttle clears the airspace, you are cleared to fire.”
* * *
Force 25
<
“What is it, Lucille?”
<>
Tara nodded and watched through her external camera as the first of the high-explosive tank rounds landed on the Cochkala position like mortars, but with bigger detonations and better killing radiuses. Overall, though, they appeared to have little effect. “They have us in a tight spot, Lucille.”
<
Tara snorted and laughed out loud. “Sorry, Lucille. I’m not laughing at you. This isn’t about faith. This is about chance. Probability.”
<
Tara nodded. “You’ve missed a variable.”
<
“No.” Tara shook her head. “The Cochkala are expecting an attack. We’re going to give them one from a direction they aren’t expecting. That creates an opening for the MinSha.”
<
Odds. Gods is there anything worse than hearing what your odds are? Seriously?
“Listen, Lucille. If the MinSha can get enough of their personnel close enough, they’ll disrupt the Cochkala line.
Not from weapons fire or maneuvers, either. They’ll do it through fear.”
Lucille was quiet for a long moment. <>
Tara was about to reply when one of the Cochkala missile systems exploded in a violent, orange and red cloud. There was a whoop on the radio as the artillery rounds continued to fall. An attack order was imminent. Tara licked her lips and looked down into the cockpit.
“Lucille, I don’t have time to fully explain. Hell, some of this can’t be explained. That’s what faith is. I believe Ibson’s forces are going to hurt the Cochkala enough that they’re focused on the CASPers and us. That means Whirr and her forces can get inside and get to work. They won’t need a lot of time to disrupt the Cochkala. If we can synch all this, faith has served its purpose. We do what we’re asked and trust everyone else does the same. We’ll be there when we’re supposed to. If all goes well, we’ll take the field.”
<
“Good kid,” Tara laughed. “Keep me posted on what she finds. Alert Ibson and Governor Watson that a Peacemaker is on the ground in Lovell City.”
<
Tara smiled. “We’re ready, Lucille. Let’s hope we catch the Cochkala with their pants down.”
<