He recognized the squat disk shape immediately. It was a Thrush, a favorite Liao air-space fighter, and a battle-torn veteran by the look of the laser scars across its belly and fuselage. For an instant, he saw the head of the pilot through the canopy, masked in a black-visored helmet. A line of silhouettes, thirteen of them, ran along the hull under the canopy, the last of those kill markers still bright and new-painted. This pilot was an old hand, an experienced killer.
The Thrush's lasers fired before any of the grounded 'Mechs could lock on. An instant later, a cluster of spinning, silvery cylinders exploded from the fighter's belly, the cloud of objects expanding as the cylinders tumbled down across the field.
Ardan held his position and fired both lasers, launched all of his remaining SRM rounds, and cursed his useless autocannon. As the Thrush flashed overhead, the field erupted in spewing, boiling, liquid flame, a chemical fire that splashed across grass and ‘Mechs and shrieking men, clinging like some hungry, living thing. Ardan's mind held a seared after-image of Fitzgerald's Crusader engulfed in writhing flame, of the 'Mech lifted from its feet by fresh explosions that shredded its legs and hurled it forward in a twisting mass of flaming metal. Fire clung to Ardan's Victor. Inferno bombs were a descendant of the napalm of earlier wars, a jellied, incendiary chemical that burned with the heat of white phosphorous. The grass around him was afire.
He turned his Victor and lumbered toward the forest, his 'Mech trailing streamers of fire. Once clear of the conflagration in the field, Ardan rolled his heavy machine against the ground, extinguishing the flames and leaving vast, deep-slashed ruts in the mud. The Victor stood, blackened and muddy.
He had seen only the one, lone Thrush and it was long gone, but that was not reassuring because ground assault tactics always called for multiple aircraft working together as a team. That initial pass would be followed almost immediately by more. He snapped off orders, took reports. Two 'Mechs had been hit in the attack, a Stinger and Fitzgerald's Crusader. Both machines were total losses and their pilots dead.
The Thrush was out of sight now, but others would be coming quickly. His orders called for the 17th to disperse, with Second and Third Battalions spreading out toward the eastern ridge and the First Battalion moving into the swamp. There were still Liao BattleMechs in this wooded slope along the Ordolo Basin. The Regiment would have to take them out or further scatter those enemy 'Mechs if it didn't want to become the target of constant sniping and hit-and-run raids to the rear as it closed on Jordan's Pass. Once inside the treeline, visibility was reduced to less than thirty meters. Unable to see any of the other 'Mechs in the Battalion around him, Ardan used the commlink to organize the unseen formation into a rough line running north and south, travelling west. The tree canopy closed in overhead, shielding them from further Thrush attacks. Ardan wondered where the follow-up attack was. Had that Thrush pilot truly been acting alone? What did that say about Liao organization here?
The scope of the Liao trap was obvious now. He didn't have the full picture yet and would not until he could compare notes with Ran and Lees. But their guess about a trap had been accurate. There was no reason to keep such large 'Mech forces so far from Steindown unless the plan had been to lure a Davion invasion force onto the broad plains between Steindown and the mountains, trap them on the peninsula, and bomb and shell them into helpless wreckage. The landing north of the peninsula seemed to have caught the Liao 'Mech forces completely by surprise—and even their AeroSpace Fighter support seemed to be operating in a disjointed, undirected fashion.
That confusion meant the Davion forces had the advantage now, but they would have to push to keep it. The battle was not over yet, not by ten thousand light years.
The ground grew broken and steeper. He used his 'Mech's mass to brush aside smaller trees, which fell with splintering crashes. Other massive, age-old lords of the forest grew in greater and greater profusion as he moved deeper into the forest. There was a faint glimmer of water ahead.
Gold Two and the rest of Gold Squadron were further to his right, out of sight, but perhaps 500 meters away. He would have to get closer to them or risk being cut off. Blue Squadron was on his left. Once he caught a glimpse of the company's number four Recon Lance 'Mech, a Wasp, moving through the trees. The smaller ‘Mechs were better for this kind of maneuver. They were lighter, less likely to become bogged down in mud, and their maneuverability among trees, vines, and undergrowth was impressive.
He cut to the right, then had to detour around an unexpected lake, its surface brilliant with the bright green scum that had nearly fooled him during his landing.
Cannonfire boomed to the right. Gold Seven reported contact with a Liao Rifleman. As Ardan hurried forward, his Victor's feet squelching in the shallow mud, he glimpsed movement ahead. The Victor shouldered its way between two trees that shuddered and rocked back, roots flailing mud. Dead ahead was a massive, immobile form, hulking and powerful, the Liao emblem bright against its heavy torso armor. Ardan recognized the shape. Originally a House
Steiner design, a few of these monsters had apparently fallen into Liao hands. Designated ZEU-6S and called Zeus, the 80-ton assault BattleMech resembled Ardan's Victor in many respects.
There were differences of detail, of course. The Zeus had lighter torso armor than the Victor, and heavier armor on its legs and arms. Most critical was the fact that the Victor sacrificed a great deal of space and mass to the HildCo Model 12 jump jets set into its back assembly. That meant that the Zeus, without jump jets, carried far more in the way of heavy weaponry. Especially since the Victor's autocannon was jammed.
The Zeus fired first. The monster seemed to have been placed there, waiting for him. A salvo of heavy and medium laser shots flickered across the water. Water close behind Ardan geysered steam, and the tree to his right burst into flame. A dull thud somewhere announced the failure of some piece of machinery. Ardan prayed it wasn't critical.
His own twin lasers were firing in response, but the hits seemed to splash off the Zeus's torso without effect. Then he triggered a salvo of four short-ranged missiles, brilliant pinpoints trailing smoke as they hissed toward the target. There! One of them hit, cratering the enemy 'Mech's shoulder armor but doing no other damage that Ardan could see.
Ardan was scared now. Without his autocannon, he was nearly helpless against the Zeus, and among these trees, his much greater maneuverability was useless. The Zeus raised its left arm, which mounted a black-barrelled Defiance autocannon. Ardan knew that the Zeus carried only five cassette rounds for its cannon, but at this range, with the Victor pinned to the ground by trees and underbrush, that would be more than enough.
He pulled back between the trees as the autocannon fired, its muzzle flash an almost steady flicker reflected in the swamp, the roar of exploding shells and splintering trees a drumming thunder against the Victor's hull. He turned. A mistake! He should have turned right! Shells smashed into his left arm, and warning lights flared on his console. One of his lasers was dead, the other damaged.
He loosed another flight of missiles, but couldn't see the result. Smoke drifted across the swamp, masking his Victor from the looming shape of the Zeus. With so much damage to his weapons system, Ardan's only hope was to disengage in the smoke and attempt to fall back to where he could gain support from friendly forces.
Autocannon fire smashed into him from behind now, pounding at his jump jets, fragmenting armor, chopping into his right leg. The leg froze, refusing to move. Clumsily, he attempted to circle the Victor around its immobile leg to face his attacker. The Zeus was moving there, looming huge and ominous through trees and smoke. The flicker of that autocannon came a third time, crushing the Victor's useless right arm and sending the autocannon spinning away in smoking chunks.
Ardan tasted smoke and blood, mingled with the stench of his own fear. The Zeus was taking its time, lumbering closer, picking its steps with care in the boggy ground. Ardan kept up a steady fire with his lone remaining laser, desperately trying fo
r a hit on the Zeus's cockpit. His missile racks were empty now. There was a crackle and the sparking of shorted circuitry, and the laser died, though his thumb kept smashing at the useless firing button. His fire control systems were shorting out, overloading as circuit boards melted in the ferocious heat in his 'Mech's reactor module.
The Zeus was closer now, thirty meters away. The autocannon was coming up for another rapid-fire round. It was time to punch out—or die.
Ardan thumbed the safety cover from the emergency eject arming switch, locked off the safety, stabbed the full system disconnect, and armed the chair. An alarm hooted, a panel slid back from the bright red eject button, and his palm slapped down with stinging force. The cockpit dissolved in a red blur, and Ardan was smashed down into his seat as though by some mammoth hand. He was not aware of any noise—the explosion had momentarily deafened him—but the skullcap hatch blew away an instant before his cockpit seat blasted clear of the shattered Victor.
His flight was a short one. The Victor was canted at an angle against a burning tree, and the ejector seat had slammed into a twisted, overhanging limb, then writhed off in a wildly tilting, tumbling descent across the swamp. The seat's landing jets fired to cushion his landing, but their ground sensors had been smashed and so the jets fired parallel to the ground. His harness shackles broke free, and Ardan's unconscious body plowed feet-first into the dank green waters of the Ordolo swamp.
Consciousness returned with a distant, red haze of pain. His arm throbbed with the dull but excruciating ache of a fracture. Cradling the arm against his chest, he stood slowly, swaying against the waves of dizziness that threatened to topple him back into the greenish water. He heard a crash behind him and turned to see the Zeus give his ravaged Victor a final blow that sent it crumpling into the swamp. The Zeus seemed to be scanning for him, its massive head swiveling slowly against the background of green leaves and hanging moss. Ardan's mind groped for a weapon. His Double-0 Lancer laser pistol was missing, torn out during his brief flight. That left only his knife—a knife against an eighty-ton 'Mech. He began giggling at the thought, his shock-numbed thoughts on the ragged edge of hysteria. He felt the Zeus's gaze upon him and sank slowly down until the water partly covered him once more, but the Zeus did not seem bent on further pursuit. The sound of battle was thundering now in the east, toward the edge of the swamp. For one long moment, the Zeus seemed to be looking straight at the helpless Ardan, and then it turned and pressed through the dense undergrowth toward the sounds of battle.
He was alone, now. Moving with the clumsy fumblings of an automaton, he found his ejector seat half-buried nearby in the mud. One-handed, he rummaged through a side compartment until he could pull out a preserving sleeve. Once fastened around his injured arm and inflated, the sleeve immobilized his arm and prevented the splintered ends of his humerus from causing further injury. Then he staggered away from the ejection seat, wading through calf-deep mud toward the edge of land nearby.
He staggered out of the swampy water, stiff-legged, scarcely able to move. His throat screamed for water. His uninjured hand fumbled for the survival canister at his belt It was missing, too, torn free somewhere over the waters of the swamp. It had contained capsules for purifying water, a kit for testing foods...Gone.
Ardan dropped to his knees on dry land, His right leg felt badly bruised, and his head throbbed. Though he didn't remember losing his neural helmet in the launch, it was gone, too, and his head felt as though it had been smashed from behind with a club. Years of training made him automatically inventory what he had—knife, boots, shorts. The tattered remnants of his coolant vest. No food. No drinkable water. A broken arm...
Dizziness and pain rose up, obliterating the defenses that training and his mind had erected. He sagged down to the ground, tears of pain, exhaustion, and pent-up fear streaming down his face. Exhaustion won. For the first time in his life, Ardan Sortek fainted.
15
Maximilian Liao was livid. He stood straight, radiating fury, as Ridzik entered his chamber.
"So. What happened, Pavel? How did our clever ambush go wrong?" The Chancellor was so tense that his narrow shoulders quivered, his hands played games with his rings.
"Davion just didn't follow the plan that our agents had reported to us. They changed at the last minute. Far too late for any word to reach us, even through a Command Circuit. One evening, they were set to hit all the logical targets. The next morning, they came down all over the map. Every place on the Folly that could hold up a ship or a 'Mech was busy."
Liao looked bewildered. "But that means Davion himself doesn't know what his commanders have done. How can that be? How could they dare such a thing? Their lives will be forfeit!"
Colonel Ridzik looked grim. "Not every ruler demands the scrupulous adherence to his wishes as do you, Your Grace. Davion allows his commanders much leeway. They can make their own decisions on the ground, as circumstances require. It is not always a bad modus operandi."
Liao's sallow face flushed faindy. "Are you telling me that my ways of operating are sometimes bad ones?"
Ridzik didn't flinch. "By no means, sire. But there are others that may also work extremely well. This time, Davion's method worked. Our only hope of holding the Folly was to surprise his troops as they arrived onworld. Because of their change in mid-operation, we did not succeed in that"
"So, with our lesser armaments, we must retreat. Is that what you're telling me?"
"To Redfield. Yes. Within the next six planetary days, unless we are to lose even more 'Mechs and vehicles, which we cannot afford. We are holding our headquarters and a few other key points, but if Davion makes a concerted effort against those, we will be forced to surrender."
"Surrender? Never. We will pull back, if necessary. But we will never surrender." Liao turned and looked at the star-map. "So near...so near. If only they had kept to their plans!"
Ridzik said nothing, deciding that was the most politic approach for the moment.
The smaller man whirled on his heel. "And we were so close to finding a lever to move Davion! The reports say that Ardan Sortek is with the assault forces. If we had been able to capture him...but that will be unlikely, now. There is no time."
Ridzik looked interested. "Sortek? Yes, it must have been him..." he said almost to himself. "There was a report of an engagement, along the eastern side of the main port city, with a unit commanded by a Victor. His methods were similar to those we have known with Sortek." He strode to another map, flipped down the sheet showing the area in question, and pointed.
"A large detachment of men and 'Mechs dropped onto the grasslands to the east of the port. They were met by a group of our own people, including a Zeus we captured from Steiner some time ago. The pilot is one of my special informants. After the engagement, he brought the remnants of his command back to headquarters to make his report
"He personally engaged the leader of the enemy 'Mech unit, whose Victor was painted with the Sortek arms below the Federated Suns emblem. Our man disabled the 'Mech, but he believes the pilot was able to escape into the swamp, which was less than a standard kilometer from the battlefield."
Liao's face lightened. "Sortek...afoot. Possibly wounded ...a most interesting possibility presents itself. What is the status of that area now? Can we search the swamp without interference from Davion troops?"
Ridzik nodded. "The units engaged there withdrew to the local command center, after breaking our defense. They don't care about the countryside. What they want is to quash any resistance left in the city itself, as well as around the port."
"Then, have the swamp searched immediately," Liao ordered sharply. "Detail as many men as needed. Watch to see that they don't use heavy equipment, however. We've lost enough in those cursed swamps already. But see that they are thorough."
Ridzik saluted. "Yes, Your Grace. I shall be ready to go as soon as I have obtained all the computer information we will need. You have my assurance that if Sortek is alive, we will find him...
Or even if he is not"
After the commander of his troops had left, Liao stood at the window, looking into his garden. This time he saw every vivid blossom, every bright, swift-winged bird. The view soothed him, helped to relieve the terrible tension of the past days.
Though his ruler was finding himself eased, Ridzik was increasingly harried. He had a world full of men and machines to embark for retreat He had supplies to retrieve, if possible, and to destroy, if not And now he also had an intricate and dangerous search to put into motion. He cursed the day he had first heard the name of Ardan Sortek.
Nevertheless, upon his arrival at Liao headquarters on Stein's Folly, he called in the leader of a unit that had served him well in many unusual and sometimes shady enterprises.
"Henrik, we have an important mission. The swamp in Sector Five...yes, that one." He smiled as the officer stepped to the map on his office wall and placed a finger on a stretch of green. "We believe that within that area of swamp may be a survivor of our recent battle."
The man nodded, his expression puzzled. Rescue missions had never been a high priority among the Liao troops.
"This man is important to our ruler. The Duke has need of him, even though he is an enemy. We must find him, dead or alive. When you do, bring him at once to the
DropShip being readied for retreat to Redfield. This is of utmost importance, Henrik. Do you understand me?"
The officer had worked with Ridzik often, and he understood all too well. Liao did not accept failure, even in the face of total impossibility. He saluted. "Yessir!"
* * * *
Ardan woke to darkness. His body burned with fever, and ached from head to toe, as though he had taken a brutal beating. Dazed and disoriented, he was not sure at first where he was or how he came to be here. It was his arm, throbbing in its preserving sleeve, that brought it all back...the swamp...ejecting from his Victor...the terror that the enemy Zeus would finish him off the way he'd finished off Ardan's ‘Mech...
The sword and the dagger Page 11
