by Jay Allan
Ralfieri struggled to maintain his composure. “Forty years,” he rasped. “All the dead. On both sides.”
“I know what you’re going through, General.” Taylor reached out and put his hand on Ralfieri’s shoulder. “No one knows better than I do. But you can’t change what happened. None of us can.” He paused. “But we are answerable for the future. You acted in ignorance before, but now you know the truth. If we let this go on, it is on us. Our responsibility.”
Ralfieri exhaled. “Now that I know the truth,” he said bitterly, “it will not go on. At least not here.” He looked up at Taylor. “This battle is over, I can tell you that much.” He was tense, his hands clenched into fists. “I will never fight for them again. Never.”
“We need to reach your people, General. We need to make them understand, all of them. Their place is with my soldiers, fighting for freedom, not as slaves for UNGov.”
“You’re right, General Taylor.” Ralfieri let his eyes drop, a look of sadness dropping over his face. “So many dead. So many of your men, General, so many of mine.” His voice was full of emotion…regret sadness, anger.
“I know, General.” Taylor’s voice was pure empathy. He understood what Ralfieri was thinking, the pain he was going through trying to adjust to what he’d learned. Taylor had been there; he was still there. But he’d learned to live with it after a fashion. At least, he’d managed to put duty first. There would be time for self-recrimination later, if he somehow lived through the Crusade. “The only question is, will those deaths mean something? Will you join me? Will you help me destroy UNGov and free the people of Earth from its tyranny?”
Ralfieri took a deep breath. The last day was a blur, and his mind was struggling to process everything he’d learned. But he didn’t have any doubts, not anymore. “Yes, General.” He spoke firmly, surely. “I am with you.” He reached out his hand toward Taylor. “All the way.”
Taylor grasped Ralfieri’s hand and the two shook. “Thank you, General.” Taylor forced a smile. “I am sure that together we will find a way to take down UNGov.” He was actually far from sure, but he kept that to himself.
“I need to reach my men. I’m sure most of them will rally to us, but we need to contact them.”
Taylor’s hand moved toward the small amulet around his neck. “I believe I can help with that, General.”
Ralfieri shook his head. “I know you have some method for long distance communication, General, but that’s not the problem.” His face twisted into an angry grimace. “There’s a UN Inquisitor on Juno, General Taylor, and he has several hundred of his men with him. They executed every soldier who tried to come over to your side at the beginning of the campaign, even men who were just in the units of those attempting desertion.” Ralfieri’s voice was thick with anger. “I don’t know what he could do if we issued a joint communique, but we can’t take the risk.”
Taylor nodded. “Then we have to take him out first.” He opened his mouth to continue, but Ralfieri’s com buzzed.
“General Ralfieri, we have a problem.” It was Colonel Patel. Patel was the highest ranked modified officer left alive in Ralfieri’s army, the tactical commander of the remnant of the Black Corps. His voice was strained, and Ralfieri could hear a commotion in the background.
“What is it, Colonel?”
“It’s the Portal, sir. Something’s wrong on Oceania.” Patel paused, and Ralfieri could hear shouting in the background. “We were expecting new reinforcements and a fresh shipment of ordnance, but neither arrived. I dispatched three separate detachments through the Portal to check things out, and none have returned.”
Ralfieri pressed the button on his com to mute the connection. “General Taylor, you don’t have any forces on Oceania, do you?”
“No.” Taylor had a thoughtful expression on his face. “Whatever is happening, my people have nothing to do with it.”
Ralfieri snapped the com back on. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. For now, I want that Portal heavily guarded.”
“Sir…” Patel sounded nervous, uncomfortable. “Inquisitor Vanderberg is here, and he and his men have taken control of the area around the Portal.”
“I’m on the way, Colonel. Do nothing until I arrive.” He cut the connection and turned toward Taylor, a strange expression on his face. “Well, General, we know where Inquisitor Vanderberg and his men will be. How would you feel about dealing with this problem once and for all?”
Chapter 24
Private Communique
From Anton Samovich to Anan Keita
Your reports on the Black Corps’ casualty rates have exceeded even my worst expectations. Despite our planning and efforts, we seem to have grossly underestimated the capabilities of Taylor and his men.
Your report suggests that despite our losses, the outcome of the battle rests on a knife’s edge. We cannot take the risk that Taylor’s forces may defeat the Black Corps and UN Force Juno. If the rebels are allowed to transit from Juno, our political position will be extremely precarious.
I am therefore authorizing the immediate transfer of veteran formations from all Portal Worlds within three transits of Juno. These forces should already be arriving through the Oceania-Juno Portal, and they will continue to do so until Taylor is defeated. I am diverting all new recruits from the training programs to Juno as well.
These transfers will endanger our positions on over a dozen Portal worlds. It is essential that you utilize this overwhelming force immediately to crush Taylor’s forces. There can be no further delays. We must have an expeditious and conclusive victory, including the capture or death of Taylor himself, before any news of likely defeats on the weakened worlds reaches the Secretariat. I trust you fully understand what is at stake here, and I urge you to employ every possible measure to ensure our success.
“The enemy offensive on Oceania has captured the Portal to Juno, Secretary. Machine attacks have driven our defending units back several kilometers, and they now occupy the Portal area in considerable force.” Under-Secretary Ramirez stood before Samovich’s desk, a look of near-panic on his face. He’d dreaded bringing this news to his superior, but there was no way to avoid it. It wasn’t the kind of thing he could delegate to a subordinate. “Colonel Halston is requesting immediate control over the reinforcements arriving onplanet to counter-attack and retake the Portal.”
Samovich sighed. The bad news was coming nonstop. First, he had Drogov pounding away at him for permission to go after Li and Esteban. Li was up to something; there was no doubt about that. Drogov wanted to strike first. He knew his friend was tactically correct, at least in terms of executing the actual operations. There were few men as skilled at killing as Alexi Drogov. But Samovich knew very well that tactics and politics were two different things. He wasn’t after blood for blood’s sake. He wanted absolute power, and assassinations alone wouldn’t attain that goal. Indeed, if he wasn’t careful, they could easily backfire and cost him his chance at victory.
Samovich was also hesitant to unleash his friend. He had a surprise up his sleeve in Drogov, but it was one he could only use one time. Once he revealed that his top henchman was still alive, he had to make it count, and quickly. He’d lied to the entire Secretariat, telling them Drogov was dead. There would be considerable blowback from that. When he finally made his move with Drogov, there was going to be no room for any slipups. It had to be perfectly executed and lightning-fast.
Now he had this fresh hell to deal with. He’d taken a terrible chance stripping other Portal worlds of veteran formations – and doing it without even notifying the Secretariat. Now those troops weren’t even getting through to Juno. If word got out that the supply line to the forces facing Taylor was cut, all hell would break loose. Even his allies on the Secretariat would be outraged. It was just the kind of thing Li needed to make a move against him.
“Authorize Colonel Halston to take command of all forces he requires from the units that have been diverted to Oceania for transit to Juno.” S
amovich’s voice was hoarse and tired. It had been a long day. “He is to utilize anything he feels is necessary, but he is to retake the Portal within 48 hours, or he will answer directly to me.” He glared at Ramirez. “Is that understood?”
“Yes, Secretary. Understood.”
“He has 48 hours, Ramirez. Not a second longer. Make sure he understands that.” Samovich’s tone dripped of menace.
“Yes, sir.” Ramirez moved sideways toward the door. “I will advise him at once, Secretary.”
Samovich nodded and waved toward the entrance, dismissing his nervous subordinate. He watched Ramirez leave then he put his face in his hands. Why were the Tegeri suddenly so interested in Oceania, he wondered…why the big push after years of falling back? The timing couldn’t have been worse…or better, he realized suddenly.
“Of course,” he muttered to himself. “They’re helping Taylor.” He snapped bolt upright in his chair. “So that’s what happened on Erastus.” It all made sense now. The sudden rebellion among the forces on that world, the tremendous loyalty and fighting spirit of Taylor’s men. It was the Tegeri. They contacted Taylor and told him the truth about the war. They were helping him.
His mind was racing. If he could connect Taylor to the Tegeri, it was a propaganda weapon against the rogue general, at least on Earth. Almost all of mankind still believed the aliens to be bloodthirsty monsters. But there was a dark side too. The Tegeri involvement also meant Taylor wasn’t alone. If the Tegeri could launch an attack like they did on Oceania, what else might they do? Would they supply Taylor’s forces? Equip them? He suddenly realized there was more uncertainty than he’d imagined…and even more need to put Taylor in a grave as soon as possible.
He sat at the desk as the minutes passed by, turning slowly into an hour. What should he do? He felt disconnected, uncertain. Should he wait, continue to bide his time hoping for victory on Juno? The situation there was spiraling out of control. He didn’t even have a line of communications at the moment. Was there a realistic chance of getting the victory he needed in time? Or should he make a move against Li and Esteban now, roll the dice and risk everything in one bid for power?
He considered every possibility, imagined all the permutations that could result from each action. Finally, he made a decision. He grabbed the com unit and slowly dialed a familiar connect code. “Alexi, it’s Anton. We’re a go. Let’s finish this now.”
* * * * *
Alexi Drogov crept through the small patch of woods. The villa in the distance was probably the best-protected residence in the world. Raul Esteban had been a member of the Secretariat since UNGov seized power, and he’d been the Secretary-General and most powerful member of that body for the last 18 years. He was dying, everyone on the Secretariat knew that. But dying and dead were two different things, and if Samovich’s coup was to succeed, nothing could be left to chance. A last minute condemnation from Esteban would be a huge problem. The dying leader had seemed to favor Samovich recently, at least mildly. But no one had seen the Secretary-General for weeks now, and Alexi Drogov intended to leave nothing to chance. He was going to tie up every loose end. Starting with Esteban.
“There’s some kind of jamming, boss.” Georgi Borgovich whispered as he trotted up next to Drogov. The team was on radio silence, but they were still listening, trying to catch any chatter between Esteban’s security personnel.
Borgovich was one of Drogov’s top men, another of Anton Samovich’s childhood friends. Drogov had handpicked the assassination team. He preferred a small group that worked well together, one with men he could trust. And there weren’t enough men Alexi Drogov trusted to fill out anything but a small group.
“That’s got to be trouble.” Drogov was compiling a mental list of reasons communications would be jammed. Right at the top of that list – Esteban’s people knew his team was there. But if that was the case, why didn’t they come at him? Without surprise, his few people didn’t have a chance against the small army that guarded Esteban.
“It’s heavy interference too.” Drogov stared at his com unit as he listened to the static. “It’s stronger away from the villa. The power source isn’t in Esteban’s compound, it’s…”
The sounds of gunfire interrupted him. It was coming from the direction of the villa. For an instant he thought Esteban’s security had discovered his positions and opened fire on his people, but then he realized there was a firefight going on closer to the villa. It took a few seconds for him to come to a conclusion, but then he realized. Someone else was attacking Esteban’s compound. Li! It could only be Chang Li’s people. They had made their move just moments before he had planned to launch his own operation.
“Chang Li’s crew beat us to it.” He spoke in a hushed tone as he turned to face Borgovich. “That’s the only possibility.”
Borgovich nodded. “So what do we do, boss?”
Drogov was silent. For better or worse, he’d never been an indecisive man. He assessed things quickly, and when he made a decision he went all in, without doubt, without hesitation. But this situation was so unexpected, he was unsure how to proceed. Should he try to take out both forces? No, he thought, that would be suicide. He considered trying to extricate his men undetected. That was a good plan…as long as Esteban’s security foiled Li’s attack. But Li must have other operations in place, moves intended to secure his position. If Li’s people succeeded in killing Esteban, his coup might be too far advanced to stop.
They were probably going after Samovich too, he realized with a rush of concern. He had the urge to pull out and race back to protect his friend. But he knew that was pointless as well. Samovich was as secure as possible, and if Li had managed to arrange simultaneous assaults, Drogov would be too late to intervene anyway. The only way to be sure to thwart Li’s efforts was to save Raul Esteban.
He turned toward Borgovich, his eyes staring intently into his subordinate’s. “OK, Borgo…change of plans.” His voice was grim, deadly serious. He was gripping his rifle so tightly his fingers were white. “Pass the word down. We’re going to hit whoever is attacking Esteban’s people. We’re going to save the Secretary-General.” It was a 180 degree flip in the plan. They were going to save the man they had come to kill. “In one minute, Borgo. Sixty seconds.”
Chapter 25
From the Journal of Jake Taylor:
I’ve made many command decisions in my life, but no matter how many times that responsibility falls on you, how many years you bear that burden, it never gets any easier.
Some of those decisions were made in haste, others after careful consideration. Some led to great success, others to disappointment and failure. Many were clearly important at the time, decisions I knew would have massive, long-lasting implications. Others seemed more routine, their true consequence not clear until much later.
Some of the most momentous decisions I have made did not reveal themselves as such at first. It was only later, after the results became clear, that I realized I had issued orders I would never forget.
When you think back later, after you know the terrible cost of your edicts, it is hard to imagine the routine, matter-of-fact way you made you snapped out those commands, issued orders with no idea how fateful they would become.
These are the hardest ones to live with afterward, those you didn’t see as significant when you make them. It may have been impossible to foresee their true consequence, but you never feel that way later; you always wonder, questioning what you’d done, pondering if you’d heeded things more carefully if it would have made a difference. If a battle lost could have been won. If soldiers lost could have been saved. But there is no way to know. You are left only with doubt and regret. And the loss that resulted from your orders.
“Colonel Black will go with you, General. Until you are able to communicate effectively with your troops, and hopefully rally them to our cause, we will have to rely primarily on mine.” Taylor’s eyes shifted to the small cluster of men standing behind Ralfieri. “And your peop
le here, of course.” All of Ralfieri’s companions had rallied to him, agreeing to follow their general in joining Taylor’s Crusade.
“Thank you, General Taylor.” He turned his head to face the officer standing next to Taylor. “And you, Colonel Black.”
Black nodded. Ralfieri could tell there was something going on between Black and Taylor, some discomfort or disagreement at least. It wasn’t what he’d expected between Taylor and his exec, but he didn’t think too much of it. He realized he couldn’t begin to appreciate the stress the men of the AOL had borne since they’d resolved to fight their way home to take on an entire world.
“Colonel Black, please organize a force of 300 men to accompany General Ralfieri. Your mission is to find Inquisitor Vanderberg and Secretary Keita.” Ralfieri and Taylor had discussed everything that had to be done before they could safely address the troops still in the lines and seek to recruit them for the Crusade. They were both aware now of the terrible consequences of Vanderberg’s interference with Taylor’s original appeal to the soldiers of Juno, and they were determined to ensure that never happened again. “It is essential that Vanderberg and all of his men are hunted down and killed. Even his subordinates represent a considerable danger to our efforts.”
Taylor didn’t have any interest in capturing a UN Inquisitor or any of his henchmen. He couldn’t even imagine the horrendous things Vanderberg had probably done, how many helpless civilians his people had tortured and massacred. How many men and women they’d dragged off in the night to disappear in some reeducation camp. There was no mercy in him for such creatures, no pity at all. There wasn’t much point in ordering Black to capture the bastard just so Taylor could put a bullet in his head.
