Bred for war

by Michael A. Stackpole

  "And that son of a bitch Thomas has the gall to call me evil!"

  Galen gently cleared his throat before Victor could continue. "Highness, the creation and turning of agents is rarely a pretty thing."

  Victor nodded reluctantly. "I know, I know. I understand the theory, but the practice is repellent when you look at specific cases. How is the women, anyway?"

  "Her luck is holding. It appears she'll suffer no permanent damage. The hip replacement worked fine. With a year of therapy, she'll be good as new."

  Victor's eyes narrowed. "This information about her faux grandparents, that's the kind of data you could use to turn her, isn't it?"

  His intelligence advisor thought for a moment. "It would seem so."

  Victor glanced down at the track. "See if you follow this: Francesca Jenkins is a problem for me. I've praised her highly and she's become a heroine throughout the Federated Commonwealth. If it comes out that she's a League agent, both I and my whole Intelligence Secretariat will look incredibly stupid. If, on the other hand, she dies, and vanishes from sight, she ceases to be a problem."

  "You're not thinking of killing her."

  "Not at all. Regardless of what she's done to hurt us, her action against the Liao agents was brave, and I'll not reward that with death. In fact, I'd not want her brought to trial because of what she did. At heart she's obviously strong. By pointing out how she was used, we can re-forge her into a powerful weapon against our enemies. She will be allowed to atone for what she did, we will save face, and, if we let her suffer an embolism or something and die, no one will be looking for her to expose her secret."

  Galen nodded. "I know of other cases where faking a death has worked wonders in erasing ties with the past."

  "Thank you for your expert opinion," Victor said drily. "Speak with Curaitis and get his opinion on this. If he agrees, have her appearance changed—but keep her pretty— and get her trained."

  "You think you could use her against the League?"

  Victor shrugged. "The League, or Sun-Tzu, or perhaps even my sister. Understand me, Jerry. I don't want an assassin—I don't ever want to use one again. What I do want is an agent who's smart enough to lay a trap for my enemies."

  He stood and draped the towel around his shoulders. "I think Francesca Jenkins could be just that."

  33

  An army of deer led by a lion is more to be feared than an army of lions led by a deer.

  -Attributed to Chabrais

  Denizli, Wolf Clan Liberation Zone

  7 November 3057

  Natasha refused to let herself curse aloud at the stiffness and pain in her lower back and legs. She gently lowered herself onto her camp stool, then leaned forward to ease the pain in her back. The sharp twinge running down her rump and along both hamstrings made her breathe in sharply. She had almost cried out, but her iron will transformed anger into an analgesic.

  She looked up at the younger men and women filing into her tent. "You have reports for me, quiaff?"

  The tall black man nodded, starting the long braids of his hair swaying slowly. "The 341st Assault Cluster obtained its objectives, suffering twenty-five percent casualties. This puts my Cluster down approximately forty-eight percent in 'Mech assets for the campaign and five percent down on pilots. Operationally, the Cluster is running at fifty-two percent and, if given a week for salvage and repair, I can bring that back up to fifty-five percent."

  "Good, Ramon." Natasha shifted her gaze to Serena Fetladral. "How is the 352nd holding up?"

  "The Silver Wolves have lost fifty-five percent of our 'Mechs and twelve percent of our pilots. I can come back up to half-strength operationally with a week of repair."

  "Good. Darren?"

  The Third Battle Cluster's Star Colonel, Darren Fetladral, shared his distant cousin's blue eyes, but resembled Serena in no other way except for the weariness slumping his shoulders. "In a week I can have my Cluster at fifty percent as well. I've lost more pilots, but I have good Techs who are bringing my wounded people and damaged 'Mechs on line quickly."

  The last man, Marco Hall, slowly shook his head. "Khan Natasha, your Wolf Spiders are down forty percent in 'Mechs, including yours, and ten percent in pilots."

  "Is that including me, Marco?"

  The man shook his head. "Even if you were dead, cremated, loaded into a shell and launched, I'd expect you to get a kill, so you are not counted in that total."

  Natasha settled a grim mask over her face. "And the Falcons' Fifth and Ninth Talons—they are destroyed?"

  Ramon Sender folded his arms. "Gone, all of them, gone."

  "Excellent. You have a week for repairs, then a week of travel. We'll be at Twycross and down on the ground by the twentieth. Get some rest. You all deserve it. Dismissed."

  No one moved. They waited far longer for this conversation than I ever would have. They're good troops. Natasha brought her head up despite the pain in her back. "You have permission to speak freely, but not all at once."

  Ramon, the senior officer among them, took the lead. "I was informed of the text of the message you sent to Twycross. You told the Steel Vipers they had better move their four Clusters off that rock or you'd destroy them utterly. You included data on our Clusters adjusted to look like they had been generated after the battling here, but actually reflecting our pre-campaign strength. While the Eleventh Battle Cluster has not seen action so far, even if we include it in our total, we are still under the Steel Viper garrison strength. Their garrison, as you know, is made up of line units, just as is our assault force, and they are dug in."

  Serena glanced at Ramon, then looked at Natasha. "Attacking Twycross could prove to be the fight that breaks us, and we know you want to get to Wotan."

  "So are you asking me if I am mad, or do you want to know if I intend to fight the Steel Vipers on Twycross?"

  The flesh tightened around Darren's Fetladral's eyes. "We want to know how you intend for us to take our objectives?"

  Natasha smiled and her back eased a bit. "Other troops— Jade Falcon troops or most any of the Inner Sphere—would have mutinied by now. You haven't. You're as good a collection of warriors as ever a commander had the fortune to lead. That said, let me answer all your questions.

  "I intend my bold boast of our strength to make the Steel Vipers decide they want to stay out of the fight. If they let us use Twycross for another engagement with the Falcons, I will agree not to liberate the planet. I expect that bargain to be offered and done by the time we reach Twycross. I also expect my boast of our troop strength to be sent on to Wotan and for Chistu to be sweating glass splinters by the bucket. We know Crichell will be."

  She looked up at Serena. "My goal is to reach Wotan, but my intention is to destroy as many Jade Falcon units as possible. In crushing their garrisons, in liberating their planets, we will force them to divert both troops and equipment to reassert their influence over the worlds where we fight. By destroying their garrisons we also limit the number of troops they can send after Phelan."

  "Or," Marco asked, "use in launching a new invasion of the Inner Sphere?"

  Natasha nodded her head wearily. "Hamstring the lead 'Mech in a formation and the others have no one to follow. Chistu is getting worried—he tossed the Fifth Talon in here to help the Ninth Talon. He has no idea what we have for troops, and that's making him crazy. Even with us bidding in lower numbers than he has in his garrisons, we're chewing his troops up."

  Darren nodded slowly. "And with Twycross being a Steel Viper world, the battle will not be part of the Trial of Refusal. Chistu will send troops to oppose us, expecting to enjoy a numerical superiority, but he won't have it. We'll surprise and tear up what he throws at us."

  "My hopes and dreams." Natasha folded her hands together and rested her forearms against the inside of her thighs. The fabric of her cooling vest felt rough against the flesh of her upper arms, and it surprised her how that simple sensation somehow overrode her pain. Glancing down she saw where a streak of blood had dried
on the vest, but whether the blood belonged to her or one of the Elementals she'd killed after ejecting, she could not tell.

  The Black Widow stood slowly. 'The one advantage we have over the Inner Sphere is that we have no need to survive a battle for our genetic heritage to be passed on. We can die and still be part of the future. That is enough for a Clan warrior. But the Falcons and the Crusaders want more— power and conquest. They overreach themselves, and I mean to cut their grasping hands off at the wrist."

  She pointed up toward the sky. "Our futures are out there, with Phelan. Our destiny is on Twycross and Wotan. Our destiny is to deny the Falcons their future, so our future has a chance to sprout and grow."

  Natasha smiled, then shook her head. "I must be getting old—I usually leave such speeches to someone else."

  Marco winked at her. "Our job is to kill Falcons."

  "Yes." The Black Widow squinted one eye and contracted the trigger finger on her right hand. "And I've always believed actions speak louder than words."

  Tharkad

  District of Donegal, Lyran Alliance

  Katrina Steiner gave the ComStar demi-Precentor a withering stare and was pleased to see the effect her icy mien had on him. The smallish, balding man shuddered and bowed his head. Good.

  "Have you brought me a reply from the Primus?" she asked.

  Demi-Precentor Correy held his hands up like a supplicant before a vengeful goddess. "With the events of recent days, the Primus has been inordinately busy."

  "Too busy to deal with a message from me?"

  The man wilted beneath her ire. "Please, Archon Katrina, understand that no disrespect is meant by her delay in replying to you."

  "Then how would she explain her agreement to let Draconis Combine troops stand as ComStar peacekeepers, then allow them to virtually invade the Lyons thumb? My citizens are being made the subject people of an ancient foe, and I will not stand for it."

  "Yes, Archon, I know that. You have eloquently comunicated your concern to the Primus on repeated occasions and I have been assured at the highest levels—First Circuit levels—that special attention is being paid to your messages. It is just that Prince Victor also has a claim to the Lyons thumb and the Combine action has not brought a protest from him and ..."

  Katrina imperiously waved Correy to silence. "My brother has nothing to do with the Lyons thumb. You are sanctioning this violation of my border because there is no protest from a man who intended to use the death of a child to further his own political gains. I had thought ComStar, defender of the Inner Sphere, architect of the Clan truce, would take a higher moral position than justifying greed and treason because a murderer has not complained that a part of my realm has been amputated!"

  "That is a very good point, Archon Katrina. I will communicate it to my superiors, immediately."

  She let her fury flare her nostrils, then studied Correy from under half-closed eyes. "If you did not come today to deliver me the Primus' apology, why are you here?" She let the hint of a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "Surely you cannot enjoy it when I rage at you?"

  "No, Archon, most assuredly not."

  "Then?"

  The man, cringing still, reached into his red jacket for a folded slip of paper. "I have been asked to intercede for someone who seeks an audience with you." He held the paper out to her and she took some satisfaction in its trembling. "Without diplomatic standing, he had no other way to reach you."

  Katrina took the paper from Correy and opened it. She read the name, then thrust the paper back at him. "Why would I meet with Aim?"

  Correy took the paper back. "He said he would be sending a representative with a token of his esteem. He begs your indulgence in delaying a decision about his request until after you inspect his gift."

  A gift? What could this man give me that I would want? She recalled having met him and vaguely remembered hearing of a serious reversal of fortune he had recendy suffered. But she also remembered that he had once been considered resourceful.

  Katrina nodded once, curtly. "Tell him I will receive his representative. If I am pleased, I will then see him."

  "Satisfactory, Archon. That is more than he had hoped for."

  "Good." She looked toward the door. "You might want to suggest to your mistress that she seriously consider using a similar approach to get back into my good graces. As a gift she can return to me the Lyons thumb, and the timeliness of that gift will be very important. If it misses Christmas, the Primus will have no reason to expect anything good in the New Year."

  34

  The conventional army loses if it does not win, the guerilla wins if he does not lose.

  —Henry Kissinger, 20th century diplomat

  Daosha, Zurich

  Zurich People's Republic, League Liberation Zone

  15 November 3057

  Noble Thayer could feel the giddy energy coming off his people. It was odd—four ordinary citizens—Rick and Carol Bradford, Anne Thompson, and Cathy Hanney—all glowing with the success of having blown up a Security Committee office. Only Ken Fox showed the sort of noncommittal demeanor that suggested he found the bombing to be business as usual.

  Rick looked with suspicion around the bare basement apartment before discreetly raising his wine glass in a toast. "To the Dancing Joker and his punchlines."

  The others, except for Noble, joined in. He smoothed his newly blond hair down, then smiled. "That one did go very well. It was an added benefit that Werner Chou had returned to the office to work late."

  Carol shook her head. "I'd hoped that setting the bomb for three in the morning would have prevented casualties."

  Noble nodded, despite Ken Fox rolling his eyes. "We've agreed, all along, to target assets and not personnel whenever possible, but by now you all realize that every operation carries with it a threat of death—ours or theirs. You've accepted that—at least you said you did when we started. I need to know if it is still true."

  Ken Fox's head came up. "Why?"

  Noble stood up, his upper body sinking into shadow as he rose beyond the cone of light produced by the light hanging over their table. "I need to know because we've reached the point where we're going to have to escalate our level of activity."

  Rick rubbed a hand over a stubbly beard. "I thought things were going fine."

  "They are. We've each got a bounty of more than twenty thousand C-bills on our heads. Graffiti throughout Daosha supports us and there've been a number of copycat operations, even to dropping other playing cards as identifiers."

  Cathy smiled. "Jacko Diamond is the only one who's any good. The rest look like they must be kids."

  "Agreed. I think I have a line on Jacko and I may try to recruit him." Noble folded his arms. "The thing is this—we started off, as far as the public is concerned with blowing up the screen in Fengzilusude Square. Try as they might, the Zurich Political Directorate can't hide news of things we do. The word is getting out."

  Anne laughed lightly. "I heard a joke the other day—one security man is asked by his wife what progress they've made in finding the Dancing Joker. His reply? 'Zip, dear!' "

  Noble's voice rode above the gentle laughter in the room. "It's true. We're embarrassing ZPDir, but that's not enough if we want to succeed. Face it, as long as they exist and have greater resources than we do, they'll win and we'll lose. Our only chance at success is to stage a counterrevolution. To do that we have to convince the people of Zurich that ZPDir is limited in its ability to strike back at us. Doing that will cost some lives, so I need a confirmation of your commitment to this movement."

  Carol drew back. "When did this become a movement?"

  "It's always been a movement, Carol." Rick rested a hand on her shoulder. "A struggle against the government."

  "Yes, but this is the first time Noble has said anything about taking over the planet." Carol looked up at Noble. "No offense intended, but being a science teacher in a military academy hardly qualifies you as a planetary leader."

  No
ble held his hands up to ward off her irritation. "What I want is to remove Xu Ning from power, not power for myself. Look, you know the old saying, 'All that's needed for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing,' right?"

  Carol nodded.

  "Well, it has a corollary: the triumph of good requires that good men force evil men to do nothing. We're on that track, but we need to hit harder. Blowing up a security committee office helps, but with enough people, the government can reconstruct everything we destroy."

  "Excerpt Werner Chou."

  "Valid point, Anne, but do any of us mourn Chou's death? He stood there with Xu Ning when the two hundred martyrs were killed. He could have stopped it, but he didn't. His people rounded the martyrs up and we all know that it was SecCom troops in ZPCadre uniforms who did the shooting, not the troopers themselves."

  "Not that they wouldn't have." Ken Fox scratched at the side of his face where a bruise had faded to a yellowed shadow of itself. "I've still got ringing in my ears from the rifle butt I took trying to stop them from hauling those kids off."

  Noble nodded sympathetically. "Look, SecCom, the Cadre, and the Black Cobras are the three pillars that prevent Xu Ning's empire from toppling. We've hurt SecCom, but that only buys us time. Going after the others will mean some people are going to die. If you can't or won't be part of that, you can go. I don't want anyone working against their own feelings and ethics. I don't think killing a dictator's warriors is a moral dilemma, but I respect beliefs to the contrary."