Kris Longknife: Intrepid

by SHEPHERD, MIKE

  Kris considered her options. She could hunker down and wait to see who ran out of ammo first, or . . . Actually she didn’t have any other option. This was a battle she hadn’t planned on, against a colonel who never expected her to show. It would be decided by who had the last round in the magazine.

  Unless . . .

  Kris needed to change her thinking. Elevate her thinking.

  Oh. Right. That might do it.

  Then again, Captain Drago and the Wasp’s crew might not appreciate her dropping this hot potato into their laps. Well, they’d signed on with her. They couldn’t expect it to be boring.

  NELLY, WHEN DOES THE WASP COME OVER?

  THORPE IS OVER US JUST NOW. THE WASP SHOULD BE ALONG RIGHT AFTER HIM.

  “Comm, I’ll need you to punch me a link through to the Wasp just as soon as you can.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  38

  Colonel Cortez did not like the way this battle was going.

  Too many of the Guard’s heavily armored men lay in the dust on the near side of the peach orchard. Their forty-year-old armor hadn’t done so well against the newest mod of the old M-6.

  The fire from the peach orchard hadn’t started out nearly as strong as he’d expected, and it was already tapering off. Cortez considered sending out a runner to jack up Captain Afonin, but thought better of it. That damn hill was firing back plenty.

  Only a half dozen sharpshooters were firing among the psalm singers here in the trees. Zhukov had done a check of ammo during the break. Several of the boxes everyone thought were full of ammo had turned out to have proselytizing pamphlets in them. Just the ammunition a Christian soldier needed.

  Zhukov sent a runner. He’d come under fire a full half klick from the dikes. A long stretch of muddy water lay between them and the folks shooting at them. No cover, no protection. The troops were no go.

  Colonel Cortez was not a happy man . . . but he was a methodical thinker. Checked on his right. Going nowhere in the center. What did that leave him? He glanced to his left, where a few psalm singers were dug in on the hill, not doing much. “Wonder what the kid is doing on the other side of the hill.”

  “Sir,” said the older captain.

  Cortez decided on a different throw of the dice. “Captain, I want half of your command.”

  “For what, sir?” The fellow seemed more startled by the order than questioning it.

  “I’m pulling them back.”

  “Where do you want me to take them, sir?”

  “They’re coming with me. You keep the sharpshooters making noise here.” Cortez looked around, spotted a sergeant who seemed more worldly than the rest, and motioned to him. “Pick half the company that know how to shoot, move fast, and will follow my orders without question. Make sure they have a full ammo load, and follow me.”

  “Yes, sir,” the sergeant said, with a happy grin.

  While the sergeant collected the team, Colonel Cortez went down the list of things he would need to do the next fifteen or thirty minutes . . . assuming he guessed right.

  His eyes lit on some Guards who hadn’t been sent one place or the other. Right! Engineers! Just what the colonel ordered.

  Now Cortez grinned. Those farmers could dig themselves in as deep as they wanted. It didn’t matter.

  All they were doing was digging their own graves.

  “Sorry it took me so long to punch through to the Wasp, ma’am. They’re jamming us real bad.”

  The Wasp was almost overhead before the comm tech passed Captain Drago through to Kris with a worried look and apology.

  Kris gave her a quick nod and concentrated on Drago.

  “Your battle’s still going,” was his first comment.

  “Yeah, I’m in one whale of a gunfight, and I have no idea how much ammo these volunteers brought with them.”

  “Oh my, that can’t be making your bunny jump.”

  “Not even a little bit. Captain, I need you to settle this, or it may not go down nearly as well as my reputation calls for.”

  “That bad, huh? Well, you’re far too close for me to singe their behinds with my lasers. Even the five-inchers.”

  “Hey, I’ve been through that once this week. I am not interested in doing it again.”

  Kris could almost hear the frown growing on Drago’s face. “I know I’m going to regret asking this, but what do you want?”

  A small voice from somewhere on Drago’s bridge could be heard saying, “Then don’t ask that dame.”

  Kris ignored both. “I need you to get Thorpe out of my sky. I don’t care if you scare him out or chase him out or blow him out. But I need to tell Cortez that his ride is gone.”

  Kris paused to glance out her observer port. The firefight hadn’t slackened while she talked. “Bret, a whole lot of good people are going to die if we let this firefight go the full count. I can’t think of anyone else but you to stop it.”

  “How I hate it when you tell me I’m the only one that can save your bacon.” Drago sighed. “But then I should have known you hadn’t gotten my ship riding his exhaust for nothing.”

  Actually, Kris had done that long before she thought of this way out. She thought. Well, maybe she wasn’t totally innocent of planning ahead for the worst case.

  “Thanks, Bret, and thank the whole crew. There are a lot of people down here who are going to owe you their lives.”

  “Kris, only heroes respond to that kind of talk. Remember, we’re just in it for the money.”

  “Yeah, right,” was all Kris could say to that.

  “Now if you’ll excuse me, me and my pirate crew have a bit of finagling to do. You said you wouldn’t mind if we just scare Thorpe out of your sky? I did hear you right?”

  “Anything that makes him not available to give Cortez and his troublemakers a ride home.”

  “Hmmm. Let me talk to my dirty-trick brain trust. I’ll get back to you next orbit.”

  39

  Cortez led his last reserves up the hill at the fastest trot he could push them. At the end of the line, his grinning sergeant collected stragglers, peeled off a corporal when they grew to a wad of ten, and let them follow at a slower pace.

  Cortez let the squads of stragglers grow. He needed to reach the captain with what he could today, not get there with everyone tomorrow.

  Cortez had chosen to fall back a full two klicks before he started across the field and up the first hill. He knew he was in plain sight of any OP on the hill, but at least he was well out of gunshot. Cortez had brought no artillery. Not even a mortar. But then, the Longknife girl and her farmers hadn’t so much as rigged a slingshot to hurl anything explosive.

  Not for the first time did the colonel shake his head. The idiots who put this thing together were so sure this planet was a cakewalk. Just march in, intimidate the civilians, and start raking in the cash.

  Cortez wished the poor troopers he was hustling along were the financiers of this screwup. No, no he didn’t. Those pukes would have dropped of a collective heart attack long ago.

  Cortez reached the top of the first ridge. Turning the lead of the column over to a corporal, he pointed the man downhill, and told him, “Keep up the pace.” Then, raising his binoculars, Cortez studied the situation.

  Off to his right, Zhukov and his team plunked away at the troops behind the dikes. There didn’t seem to be that many rifles there, not compared to the rattle of fire from that flank. Cortez knew he was facing fire from dug-in positions on the hill he now stood atop. Certainly the hostiles had dug themselves into those dikes. There was a lot more there than met the eye.

  The colonel eyed the hill beneath him. Here and there an orchard or a tree with clumps of bushes around it broke up his field of vision, but from this angle it was hard to miss the glint off a gun barrel or the spit of flame when a rifle fired.

  He chuckled. These farmers must make their own powder. Smokeless it wasn’t. Not as good as the ammo used by his troops. That told him a lot. With the load being variable
in both amount and strength, these folks wouldn’t be hitting what they aimed at. Not at any kind of range.

  Of course, up close, it wouldn’t matter. So keep back for now, let them shoot. Who had the worst ammo problem?

  “How long do these caves run?” Cortez asked aloud. He didn’t see a door into the mountain. Were all the firing positions connected? That was a thought. If he blew his way into any one of the caves, would he be loose among them all? Would his troops in the cave be shooting fish in a barrel?

  Now that was a nice thought.

  Cortez moved his focus to the next hill. Most of the fire came from a series of slit trenches along its military crest. The end of them zigzagged over the crest toward what was probably a firing position on the other side.

  The work looked hasty, but professionally camouflaged from an observer in the valley. The first Guards to march into the valley below them must not have done a very careful look when they were up here. Then again, Cortez’s original command post hadn’t given him a very good look at those slit trenches, either.

  He searched the hill carefully but saw nothing that looked like a fire pit or cave outlet on that ridge. All the fire came from those well-concealed positions along the crest.

  The colonel put away his binoculars and started jogging beside his men down the hill. He had a lot to think about.

  Kris had run out of things to worry about. She didn’t like the feel of that. Not at all.

  Drago had his sailing orders. It would be next orbit, ninety minutes, at least, before she’d learn anything about how Thorpe took to the nudge. If it took two or three orbits for matters to develop, it would be getting close to dark.

  Come dark, the question would be whose army ran first.

  Kris eyed the swamp that separated Jack from the attack on his rice paddies. The assault there seemed stalled. So long as Jack had ammunition, no one looked inclined to try splashing their way across that killing field.

  In front of Kris it didn’t look any better for Cortez. His fire was steady, but no one looked inclined to risk the open space. One tank could have made mincemeat of Kris’s position. A couple of howitzers could have dug her troops out quick.

  How long had it been since there was a fair, stand-up fight, just infantry against infantry? She’d have to ask Grampa Trouble next time she was on speaking terms with the old coot.

  That left Kris’s right. She edged as far over as she could to the left of the viewing port and squinted. Not a lot to see.

  That wasn’t a good development.

  A girl, maybe ten years old, galloped into the HQ. She smiled at Gramma Polska, then turned to Kris. “My momma says you ought to come quick. She says she can see something that you can’t see, and you need to see it” came out in a rush that showed no lack of breath.

  Kris wasn’t seeing anything interesting out of her port, so maybe a different view was called for.

  “Keep an eye out here,” Kris told Penny. “Let me know as soon as you hear anything from the Wasp.” Then she followed the little girl into the dark.

  Unlike most adults, who had electric lamps, the girl had no trouble seeing in the dim lights stuck into the walls. Kris followed her for a while, risking her steps. Then called a halt and ducked into a cross corridor to borrow a lamp from three riflemen. They didn’t fire a shot the whole time Kris was negotiating the loan. As she rejoined the girl, someone fired.

  Kris was glad she’d borrowed the lamp, because she quickly entered a new section of tunnel with very little light in it. Still, the girl picked her way along it, bent over but trailing hands on both sides of the wall. Kris found herself once more regretting that last growth spurt in her first year of high school. Clearly, this section of cave was meant for dwarfs, midgets, and ten-year-olds.

  Then the girl’s bottom went right and Kris found herself following her into all kinds of daylight. Blinking hard, Kris switched off the lamp and looked around.

  The afternoon sun slanted into the cave, filtered by green leaves. To the left dangled the roots of a tree. Over all was the smell of fresh, clean dirt. Kris doubted the rifle standing against the wall had been fired even once.

  The girl was getting a hug from her mother and, in an avalanche of words, reporting how she’d brought the princess just like she was told. The mother, an attractive woman in her late thirties, saw Kris’s glance at the rifle and seemed to harden a bit. “I haven’t seen anything that I thought needed shooting at, not with the slugs that thing shoots.”

  “I doubt if the armored infantry that came down that gully a while back would have noticed if you’d hit them.”

  The woman brightened. “My thinking exactly. But I’m going to be needing it real soon. Come see what’s happening.”

  Kris looked, and didn’t see much. Across the narrow valley, say a thousand meters, was the ridge Gunny defended, but not all that much of it was visible through the tunnel opening.

  “You need to stick your head out to see anything,” the woman said, and did. No helmet, no armor, the mother didn’t seem to realize she risked a stray bullet. Or maybe she did.

  Kris tapped the woman on the shoulder, pulled her back in, and took her place. The tree and bushes provided some cover but little protection. And if anyone got serious about shooting up this little grove, even that would be gone in one heavy volley.

  Off to Kris’s right, Gunny and his platoon were dug in near the crest of the next hill. The grove of trees they were behind now stood bare, denuded of leaves and most branches.

  In the valley, another orchard provided some protection to the survivors of Cortez’s heavy infantry probe. No fire came from them; they seemed pretty suppressed.

  Kris turned and looked up the valley.

  And felt a sudden chill.

  A good two klicks out, a loose column of soldiers moved in single file. These were the white-smocked ones; even their hats were white. Not good camouflage. Their outfits must mean something really important to them. Kris corralled her brain and concentrated. Some troops were already slogging their way up the next ridge, so their objective might be farther over.

  Or maybe not. If they were going to sweep this valley, they’d want to stretch from here to there, wouldn’t they?

  Kris turned back to Gunny’s disposition. Then stuck her head out a bit more and looked at what she could see of whatever defense this ridge offered.

  The word “broadside” came to mind. Sailing ships with all their guns pointed to the left or right. Starboard or port, wasn’t it? If you got across their bow . . .

  Kris shook her head and ducked back in. “Is this the farthest-out OP we’ve got?” she asked the woman.

  She nodded silently.

  Kris stuck her head out again. Gunny had been adding to his position, digging more zigzags down from the crest position. He’d be able to bring guns from those to bear up the valley, but he’d be taking fire from the orchard . . . assuming those people had any fire left in them.

  That was not a bet Kris would take.

  Blast it. Drago might well have Thorpe driven out of the sky in another hour, hour and a half. What were the odds this attack would still be developing come Drago’s next pass?

  Kris risked another look up valley.

  The lead troopers had reached the top of the next ridge. They stopped there.

  The whole line came to a halt.

  Down in the valley, someone not in the line, so likely an officer, stepped forward. Binoculars came up. Yep, an officer.

  Kris pulled out her own glasses and studied the man.

  Armor. Good armor. Only weapon was a pistol that he wore at his belt. Old-fashioned. Maybe.

  He looked right at her. The two of them studied each other for a long moment. Was she looking at Colonel Cortez?

  If she was, she was looking at a man drawing up his last reserves for a final throw of the dice.

  What was he after?

  Kris hardly had to ask. The answer was all around her. This observation post was also an entran
ce to her subterranean defenses. Colonel Cortez stood a good two kilometers farther up the valley. Scattered riflemen had advanced to about two, three hundred meters from where Kris stood. Gunny and his platoon were a good four hundred meters farther down the valley.

  Could his riflemen keep those light infantry out of her mountain? Did Gunny know he needed to?

  Kris ducked back inside, took the rifle from where it leaned against the wall, and handed it to the woman. “You are standing on the most valuable piece of real estate on this planet.”

  “I kind of thought so.”

  “I’m going to get you reinforcements. Until they get here, you have got to keep all comers out of this place.”

  “I know.”

  “Can I take your daughter?”

  “Please. She knows caves. I’ve never seen her get lost.”

  “I’m counting on her to get me back to the main caves, then to get reinforcements up to replace you. You hear me? As soon as the Marines get here, you get out.”

  “I’ll be back and running.”

  “Momma, are you going to be all right?”

  The woman knelt to be eye to eye with her daughter. “Honey-pot, I’ll be fine. You show the princess back to the main caves. She’s going to introduce you to some big men with guns. You bring them back up here, then you and Momma are going to run far away from here. Okay, baby girl?”

  “I’m a big girl, Momma,” the kid said.

  Her momma tousled her hair. “Now run, big girl.”

  The kid backed slowly away from her mother. Kris stooped and headed into the tight opening, moving as fast as she could. Before too long, she heard soft footsteps behind her.

  Not long after that came, “That’s the wrong way, follow me.”

  Kris backed out of what sure looked like the right turn and followed the kid for what seemed like an hour but likely wasn’t more than a minute or two before the cave opened up to an area that allowed Kris to almost stand.

  Now jogging just behind the girl, Kris followed until she heard an M-6 shoot from one of the side galleries. She went on a bit longer, then came to a halt.