Holding the kitchen door open, Craon shouted, "All clear!"
Redburn waved the others toward Craon. "Go! Go!" The unarmed MechWarriors crawled forward, but Montdidier spun and directed his fire toward the restaurant doorway. One Maskirovka assassin poked his gun out from between a dragon's undulating coils. Montdidier snapped off two quick shots, and the man's face disappeared.
How does he do that? Redburn saw the man Montdidier had shot fall to the ground and then heard shouts explode from those gathered near him. Montdidier smiled and ducked toward the kitchen. Redburn, still stunned, followed, then hunkered down beside the hot stove with de Mesnil.
The Sergeant nodded toward the first man Montdidier had shot. "Archie's got his assault rifle, and Geoff's packing the pistol he had in his holster. They're checking the back alley."
"What about the others?"
De Mesnil grinned. "Drew and Hugh found a couple of butcher knives to their liking and are waiting by the door." Redburn frowned. "What about you?"
De Mesnil jerked a thumb at Montdidier. "I'm just waiting for him to shoot someone else, then I'll take the victim's weapon."
As if summoned by de Mesnil's statement, a Maskirovka agent burst through the kitchen door in a headlong charge. As he turned to face the crouched MechWarriors and rake them with a burst from his submachine gun, his right foot slipped on a greasy spot on the floor. He started to fall, but a pair of shots by Montdidier lifted him up and knocked him back toward the freezer door.
De Mesnil reached out and snagged the submachine gun's shoulder strap. Pulling the gun to himself, he smiled. "Payen, next time have him drop the gun closer, eh?"
Montdidier snorted derisively in reply and led the other two MechWarriors through the kitchen and out to the night-shrouded alley. There, with Montbard and de Payens standing as sentinels at the door, Craon reported to Redburn. "Alley's secure. Archie and Geoff have the front covered. The street's pretty clear out there."
Redburn nodded. Shang Dao is keeping his people out of it. This must be some rogue Maskirovka operation. "Payen, send Geoff back here to cover this door and you cover the front with Archie. Walter, you, and Robert and I will try to swing wide and line up across the street. When we're clear, we can cover the front so the others can evacuate the area."
The alley's deep shadows hid his men's expressions, but their heads bobbed acquiescence with Redburn's plan. Geoff returned to the doorway and took a covered position behind a pile of broken cobblestones and bricks that gave him a clear view of the restaurant's rear exit. Even with the light streaming through the restaurant's back door, neither of the MechWarriors waiting with butcher knives on either side of the door were visible.
I hope I can get these men out of this. I hate fighting outside a 'Mech! Redburn used the back of his sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. Last June, I fought on foot against Kurita ISF ninjas and now I'm in a gun battle with Maskirovka assassins. Hell, I might as well be in the Jump Infantry.
Redburn eased himself forward enough at the alley mouth to study the narrow cobblestoned street. Buildings of traditional Capellan design lined both sides of the street and turned it into a dark canyon. Dimly lit paper lanterns hung from eaves and lintels danced in the dry night breezes, but did little to dispel the night's gloom. The buildings, some of which rose up as much as three stories above their squat, drab neighbors, stared with wood and glass eyes at the foreign MechWarriors trapped deep within their district. Even though conquered and made part of the Federated Suns a generation ago, Shaoshan was still enemy territory and seethed with danger.
"They're making a break!" Archie stepped into the street and swept a hail of fire through the second man out the door. The Maskirovka agent jerked and twitched backward as the bullets blasted into him. His finger tightened on the trigger of his gun and mercilessly sprayed the street with a full clip of ammo. His lifeless body finally pirouetted into the gutter with a splash.
Two hot red laser bolts leaped from Craon's pistol after the other fleeing Liao operative. The first missed and exploded a wooden post into a storm of flaming splinters. The second stabbed through the running man's left shoulder, and the shock of the hit knocked the man down. He rolled to a stop behind a bench, then scrambled to his feet and ducked off into an alley, but minus the rifle he'd been carrying.
"Walter, Robert, with me. Payen, clean up!" Redburn sprinted into the street. Craon and de Mesnil followed like hounds on the heels of a fox. Behind them, Archie triggered another burst and kept the remaining Maskirovka agents down long enough for the trio of pursuers to dart into the alley.
Why did they wait till after dinner? Redburn watched the shadowman running ahead of him. You better not run very far or I'll throw up. Grimacing, Redburn put his head down and lengthened his stride.
When his quarry suddenly ducked into a building on the left, Redburn slowed up and raised his left hand to bring his two subordinates to a halt. "Easy now. If he's gone inside, he's probably got friends." Looks more like a warehouse than a residence. Could the rat have been so foolish as to duck into his own hole?
Wordlessly, Redburn signaled his men to spread out. He positioned de Mesnil on his right and indicated that he should watch the shadow-strewn warehouse's upper floor and roof. He moved Craon ahead and in next to the buildings on the left. Redburn advanced cautiously and kept his pistol cupped in two hands.
Suddenly, a silhouette appeared on the building's roof. A long, flickering spear of flame stabbed into the darkness, and the accompanying staccato explosions echoed through the alley. Redburn dove forward and rolled toward the building. Bullets slashed through where he had just been standing and peppered him with fragments of hot lead and sharp stone.
De Mesnil dropped to one knee and triggered a short burst. The shadowed assassin screamed and dropped his rifle. His lifeless body pitched forward and landed in the alley bare moments after his gun clattered to the street.
Craon moved forward and crouched by the body. "Laser burn on the shoulder. He's the one I shot."
De Mesnil helped Redburn to his feet. "Are you O.K.?"
Redburn nodded. "Yes. But what are the chances of him having found that assault rifle in just any building?"
Craon grinned. "Slim and none?"
Redburn nodded. "Let's be careful, gentlemen, because unless I miss my guess, we've just located a Maskirovka safe house. Heaven alone knows what little goodies are stored in here. Let's go find out."
10
Sian
Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation
20 December 3027
Justin Xiang looked up from a desk crenelated with stacks of leather-bound books and haphazardly stacked computer reports. He smiled wearily at his visitor, yawned, and moved his keyboard from his lap onto the desk. "Glad to see someone else is playing fast and loose with the photon budget this late at night."
Tsen Shang nodded and closed the door behind him. Lowering himself into a massive, brown leather chair, he shut his eyes for a second. In a low voice hoarse with fatigue, he asked, "If we have as much staff as we want for this crisis team, why are we doing all the work?"
Justin chuckled. "I can assure you that some of our staff, like Alexi, for instance, are asking themselves the same question."
Justin bowed his back until he felt his spine crack in a series of ascending pops. "Even though we skimmed the cream of the Maskirovka for our staff, everyone else is covering themselves. We're certainly getting data faster than ever before, but nowhere near as quickly as we need it. And so it falls to geniuses like you and me to make the leaps of logic needed to get any use out of what we do know."
Shang opened one brown eye and stared at Justin. "I like the part about us being geniuses, but this late at night, the rest went right by me." The diamond chips imbedded in his long fingernails caught and amplified the room's mute light as Shang covered a yawn with his right hand. "Are you still playing with the Davion budget figures?"
Justin nodded and glanced over at the computer s
creen. "Yeah. What do you need?"
Shang glanced at the memo-computer in his left hand. "Disbursements to the Lyran Commonwealth Monopole Company."
Justin punched the request into the computer, then watched information scroll past. Bars of green light drifted up over his face, then stabilized. "Fiscal 3027, which ended in July past. I've got 30,000,000 C-bills, give or take. Are you still working on the Silver Eagle thing?"
"No. Shipping costs for the Hatchetmen being moved from the Commonwealth to the Federated Suns. Monopole's second and third quarter earnings are grossly out of line with what our people project for their business. They had a couple of ships refitted in the Federated Suns, at the shipyards on Kathil. I thought that perhaps they stuffed Hatchetmen into their ships due for renovations, and then dumped them at Kathil."
Justin nodded. "Good thought."
Shang shrugged. "That's all it was. The payments tally with supposed payments when Hanse commandeered some Monopole vessels for Galahad '26." Shang leaned forward and cradled the memo-computer in both hands. "Any luck with your pet project?"
Justin sank back into his high-backed chair. Yes. I've had luck, but all of it's been wretched... He sighed heavily and shrugged as he held up his hands. "Yes and no. There's enough vagueness in the NAIS budgets over the last two years to cover the funds needed to maintain a secret BattleMech development facility. I know it's there. I heard enough rumors during my years in the Federated Suns military to believe that it truly exists."
Shang nodded solemnly. "You and I both accept its existence. Ever since 'Mechs first appeared on the battlefield six hundred years ago, they've dominated warfare and decided the fate of Humanity. Unfortunately, the first of the Succession Wars did so much damage to 'Mech factories and research facilities that no one has produced anything new in almost two centuries."
Justin winced. "That was until recently. Dr. Banzai's design for the Hatchetman is new, as is our Raven and Kurita's Grand Dragon"
Shang nodded. "That's the point I was headed toward. It's only natural for the Federated Suns to have an ongoing research effort to develop new 'Mechs and equipment. They're the most technologically advanced of the Successor States. The NAIS alone has produced wonders." Shang smiled and nodded toward Justin. "Your left forearm and hand, for example."
Justin shivered. It's just a Federated Suns replacement of what I lost in its service. "Your point is well taken. The rumors I heard were of 'Mechs with greatly increased physical strength, which means work on myomer muscle fiber or structural redesigns."
Justin pushed his chair back from the table and walked around to the map on the wall. Shang turned in his chair to follow Justin's movement. The slender analyst tapped the map with the steel index-finger of his left hand. "Because of the political difficulties between Hanse and Michael, I'm sure that Hanse wouldn't have placed the 'Mech research center any further from Terra than Daniels."
Shang thought for a moment, then nodded. "Any deeper into the Capellan March and Duke Michael would certainly learn of it."
Justin smiled. "And we'd hear of it from him . . . unless he's holding out on us?"
Shang yawned. "He's not smart enough."
But is he that stupid? Justin moved his hand down the map. "Because of Kurita raids, I know it's no closer to Terra than, say, Chesterton. But it can't be too far from New Avalon, either. I've got a half-dozen candidates, but Goshen, Axton, and Bethel lead the list." Justin jerked a thumb back toward his desk. "Let's hope those reports will cough up evidence of a chunk of money heading to one of those worlds."
"That's one way." Shang stretched. "We could also raid those worlds."
Justin looked at his aide for a long moment. "Let's narrow the selection down this way, then use our resources more economically. Face it, raiding six worlds means we alert Davion to what we're searching for in his space. I'd rather hit one or two worlds with concentrated force and take what we want without tipping him off beforehand."
"Well, good luck. I'm off to bed."
"Sleep well," Justin said, though he was still studying the map.
Shang stood. "Who said anything about sleep? I don't think I've slept a full night since we took this assignment."
Justin shook his head. "And here I thought it was Romano Liao who was keeping you up nights."
Shang flushed. "Cute, Xiang. You're just jealous because she's got taste . . ."
Justin raised his hands in surrender. "Not me. I like sleeping the full five hours this job allows me." Justin's hands dropped as the door to his office swung open hard. Haggard and bleary-eyed, a half-dressed Alexi Malenkov burst into the room.
"What is it, Alexi?"
Alexi shot a glance at Shang. "Good. You're here too." He looked up at Justin and smoothed his hair down with his right hand. "Your father shut down our entire operation on Kittery!"
"What!" Both men's voices joined in a shocked shout. Justin returned to his desk and dropped into his chair. "What the hell happened?"
Malenkov drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Shang guided him to the leather chair he'd just vacated. Malenkov rubbed the last vestiges of sleep from his bloodshot gray eyes, and leaned heavily forward with elbows resting on his knees. "Reports are sketchy, but what I hear is that a Maskirovka termination team of a half-dozen individuals arrived on Kittery about a month ago. They tried to hit a group of Davion officers and NCOs who were out together at a restaurant in Shaoshan."
Justin stiffened. No. They can't have killed Andy Redburn . . . "Shaoshan's just outside the base where the First Kittery is stationed."
Malenkov nodded. "They tried to hit Captain Redburn and his staff before they transferred to the Davion Light Guards. I don't know if the MechWarriors were warned or not, but they managed to take the hit team apart. One of our men ran, and he ended up leading the Davion officers to one of our storehouses."
"Wait a minute . . ." Shang lay his left hand on Malenkov's shoulder. "Didn't we have native personnel there to protect the storehouse?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Malenkov growled. "The termination team came from Sian and commandeered the center. They ordered everyone out and consulted with no one about their plans. After the Davion officers had killed the last man, they had the center all to themselves. They captured lots of small arms as well as a large amount of data."
"What sort of an idiot would have ordered the assassination of a minor officer?" Justin muttered, shaking his head in dismay.
Malenkov looked up at Shang. "As near as I can make out, Lady Romano issued the orders."
Shang shivered. "But that's impossible. She said she wouldn't. . ."
Justin stood. "What are you talking about, Tsen?"
Shang hesitated, composing his face and his voice before he spoke. "Two months ago, she mentioned to me an idea for taking out Davion officers in a wave of terrorist attacks. We all know that she has a tendency to act before she thinks, so I told her that killing officers wouldn't affect the elite Davion units that much because of the depth of the Davion officer corps. In fact, I told her it would only increase the CID's vigilance."
Shang hesitated. "Damn, though. To mollify her, I did toss off the speculation that assassinations of some officers—those assigned to green or training battalions—might affect morale in their units, but I didn't think she'd act on it."
Justin sank back into his chair and covered his face with his hands. His hands, flesh and steel, right and left, drifted apart and rubbed at his temples. Justin slowly opened his eyes and sucked in air through clenched teeth. "This is a disaster, but it's one we can control." He exhaled slowly and looked over at his aide. "Alexi, get some sleep. In the morning, I want two inventories of the material we lost in that warehouse. One will be complete all the way down to paper clips, tea cups, and dust in the corners. The other will be a less damaging list that we can present to the Chancellor without fear for our lives. Once we have preliminary drafts of those lists, we can see what sort of spin we want to put on this fiasco."
> Grinning, he looked up at Shang. "Let's send urgent orders to the commanders at Taga and St. Loris countermanding and canceling all plans to invade Kittery."
Shang hesitated, then nodded as a sinister chuckle rolled from his throat. "Those orders will get to the CID swiftly enough and make them wonder what's going on."
"Right." Justin leaned back, stretching up his arms to relieve some of the kinks in his shoulders. "We'll give Davion a 'bigger picture' in which to place this incident." Justin narrowed his eyes. "See what you can do to get Lady Romano to calm down. And from now on, you'd do well to watch your speculations when you're around her."
Shang nodded and retreated toward the door as Justin stood to usher out Malenkov as well. "Rest easily, gentlemen. We'll cover this one and maybe even get some good out of it."
11
Sian
Sian Commonality, Capellan Confederation
20 December 3027
Justin shut the door to his office and slumped with his back against the heavy oaken door. How could she be so stupid? There are times when she is too much like her father.
Justin levered himself away from the wall with a weary sigh, though he felt too restless to get any sleep now. He crossed to the French doors in the opposite wall and opened them onto the garden around which the palace was built. He closed the doors behind himself and padded along the crushed gravel walkway spiraling in through shrubs and fragrant night-blooming flowers to the center of the garden.
At the garden's hub was a weathered stone shrine whose sharply pitched roof stabbed into the heavens. Slivers and demi-lunes of three of Sian's four visible moons displayed themselves in shades of red and blue around the structure. The fourth moon, slowly rising full and bone-white, cast just enough light over the garden to glint from the gold Buddha sheltered in the shrine.
For Justin, even the enormity of Romano's idiocy somehow dwindled to insignificance in this place. Access to the garden and its peacefulness was probably the only privilege that made working on the crisis team worth it. He closed his eyes and slowly rolled his head around to loosen his neck. I'm still loaded with tension. Perhaps some tai chi...
Warrior: riposte Page 8
