by Piers Platt
“Yes, yes,” the general waved away the interruption. “Now, the major here has the latest intelligence update for you, but I suggest you review it and complete your planning while you are en route to the city: it is several hours’ drive from here.” He took his leave, and Ikeda gestured for Rath to follow him out of the tent.
“You have weapons and supplies?” Ikeda asked, when they were back outside.
“Yes,” Rath said.
“Good.” Ikeda led him toward a group of four lightly-armored wheeled vehicles on the far side of the tents. Rath saw a motley collection of a dozen soldiers lounging around the vehicles. “We’re traveling by ground – the insurgents captured a cache of anti-air missiles recently, and until we locate them again, only drones are allowed to fly in the city,” Ikeda told him. He barked an order to the soldiers, and Rath’s neural interface identified it as a local Sino-Japanese dialect, displaying a translation on his heads-up display. Ikeda’s team duly mounted up. Rath took a seat behind Ikeda in the lead vehicle, which had a multi-purpose turret gun mounted on its roof. He spent the first twenty minutes of the ride reading through the intelligence updates, and then handed the datascroll back to Ikeda.
“How solid is this information about the enemy plans to move the target out of the city?”
“It is certain that they plan to move him, and I doubt they plan to do so with less than twenty-five or thirty men, given his importance to their cause. The rebel’s top field commander is a man called Byrom leGris.” He took Rath’s datascroll and flipped through screens until he found a picture of the rebel commander. “Here he is. The target is Pono leGris, his uncle, and closest adviser.”
“If Byrom is so important, then why aren’t we going after him? Why the uncle?”
“Byrom is much more heavily guarded, for one. And his uncle is rumored to be making diplomatic overtures to other planets in the Territories, to build a possible alliance against us. Our source was most adamant that they would move him in the next twenty-four hours, but many things can happen in an active combat zone to throw that timing off,” Ikeda warned.
“How much experience do your men have?” Rath asked.
The driver threw Rath a look full of contempt and uttered a harsh phrase to Ikeda.
Rath’s heads-up display provided a translation.
Ikeda frowned at the man:
The driver glanced back at Rath again and grinned at him.
Rath smiled back. “What?” he asked. He turned to Ikeda. “What did he say?”
Ikeda grunted. “He said this is an elite team. My men are hand-picked from Jokuan’s light infantry units, and fiercely loyal to me. They are all veterans of many battles. Do not worry about us, mercenary – we could do this mission without your help.”
… and there it is, thought Rath. He addressed Ikeda directly. “Major, I’m here because you can’t. I don’t want wounded pride getting in the way of this mission.”
Ikeda flashed him a look of pure hatred. “It will not.”
“Good,” Rath said.
The city came into view two hours later, when they crested a small hill. Rath had the driver stop, and he climbed out of the truck and took a knee at the forward edge of the hill. Before him, three miles of flat grasslands led to the city’s edge. Rath’s thermal vision identified a line of infantry in loose skirmish order approaching the city far off to his left, with armored vehicles backing them up. Aerial drones and artillery laid down a coordinated, creeping barrage ahead of the government forces’ advance, inflicting heavy damage on the city’s outskirts. But the insurgents defended their city well, and Rath watched as tracer fire lit up the night, streaking out from several strongpoints on the city’s edge, forcing the oncoming infantrymen to take cover on the ground. The armored vehicles returned fire, and a drone streaked in with several missiles, but not before an insurgent missile flared out and blasted apart one of the armored trucks. Rath sensed Ikeda was standing next to him, and dialed back his visual magnification.
“I thought the attack wasn’t supposed to start until dawn,” Rath noted, chagrined.
Ikeda shrugged. “The situation has changed.”
“Then we’ll have to change the plan, too,” Rath said. “We can’t infiltrate the city on foot anymore – they’re shooting at anything that moves outside the city. I think our best bet is to stay on the vehicles and go hard and fast for the objective – we’ve lost the element of surprise, so speed is our only option.”
Ikeda nodded.
“Can we get a transport aircraft?”
“No,” Ikeda said. “They are in short supply, and the missile threat is too great.”
“Okay, granted,” Rath conceded. “But we don’t have enough men to do the assault and guard the vehicles. What happens if our vehicles are disabled in the fighting? I’d rather risk the anti-air threat than get stranded in the middle of the city, trying to hold out until your comrades can reach us.” Rath pointed over to the attacking government forces, who had not moved since last he looked at them. “If they ever do,” he finished.
“I will request air transport as a backup in case we lose the vehicles,” Ikeda allowed.
“Fantastic,” Rath grimaced. “And see if you can get one or two of those drones to give us air cover during the mission.”
Ikeda walked back to the trucks to use the radio. With nothing better to do, Rath watched the government forces continue their attack. Rath was no expert, but it looked clumsy and poorly-coordinated to him – the infantry were not moving forward aggressively, and seemed to be waiting for the vehicles to suppress the insurgent positions. Rath walked back to the truck.
“Who is commanding that attack?” he asked Ikeda.
“Colonel Sasaki,” Ikeda replied. “He used to be the chief trainer for all of our ground forces.”
“That’s heartening,” Rath muttered.
“What?” Ikeda asked.
“Nothing. Are your men ready?”
“Of course,” Ikeda said.
“Then let’s go.”
They made it within a kilometer of the city before the first position opened fire on them – a line of tracers zipping out over the top of the truck, then tracking down to rattle across the roof like hail.
“Go fast, go, go!” Rath yelled to the driver.
Rath was surprised they had gotten as close as they had – apparently the attack was diverting some of the defenders’ attention. The line of trucks accelerated as several more positions found them, the streaking bullets crossing as they sought out the vehicles’ soft spots. Rath saw the soldier across from him use his remote station to rotate their turret into action, and heard the gun fire several shells in response.
“We have a drone on station,” Ikeda called out above the din. Rath saw several missiles spiral into a building ahead, knocking out a heavy machine gun that had been targeting the truck to their rear. The driver called something excitedly to Ikeda, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. Rath glanced back in time to see the rear truck slew wildly and flip over, cartwheeling through the grass, its engine block on fire.
“Keep going!” Rath shouted.
“The men in that truck will die!” Ikeda objected.
“We’ll all die if we stop here,” Rath assured him.
Ikeda swore, but motioned to the driver to continue. The storm of bullets seemed to intensify as they pulled up onto a road leading into the city, and then they were past the first buildings and the firing stopped as suddenly as it began. In the pre-dawn gloom, the convoy roared down the abandoned streets. Rath took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
“They have put up a shell of resistance, and we have cracked the shell,” Ikeda observed.
Rath was unconvinced. “They were manning the perimeter,” he conceded. “But they’ve got to have some units in reserve elsewhe
re in the city.”
But if there were other rebel units, they did not attack Ikeda’s speeding trucks. Ikeda shrugged. “We’ll be able to assault the building and kill leGris before any other enemy units can interfere.”
“I want you to stop short of the objective, and I’ll go in alone,” Rath told him.
Ikeda ignored him.
“Did you hear me, Major?” Rath asked.
“Yes, I did. We’re nearing the building now.”
Rath checked that he had a round chambered in his auto-pistol. They made one final turn, and Rath saw the building ahead. It was a squat, two-story wooden structure, with an arched gate leading to an inner courtyard.
“Turn down a side street and stop,” Rath ordered.
Ikeda barked an order to the driver, and the truck sped up.
“God damn it!” Rath swore. Ikeda ignored him, and the driver, grinning, barreled straight through the building’s gate, battering it open with the vehicle’s armored hood. Rath was out the door as soon as they stopped, sprinting for the main entrance. As he ran, he altered his face, matching the photo of Byrom leGris, the rebel commander. He heard Ikeda yelling at him. A sentry on the roof fired at one of the trucks, and Rath heard a ragged volley of gunfire reply from the trucks. Rath crashed into the door, bursting it open.
There were two guards inside the entrance, both pointing weapons at the door. Rath flinched, but both of them swung their weapons aside when they saw Rath’s face.
“We’re under attack!” Rath shouted. “Where’s my brother?”
“Upstairs! Second door on the left.” The guard pointed at a large staircase behind him.
“Thanks,” Rath said, slamming the doors behind him. “Don’t let them get in!” he ordered, heading for the stairs.
“Yes, sir!”
Fuck you, Ikeda, Rath thought, with a smile.
Both of the guards opened fire as he reached the top of the landing, and he heard Ikeda’s troops return fire. The upper floor was deserted, and Rath turned to his left. He held his auto-pistol at eye level and opened the second door. It was a bedroom, but it appeared empty. Rath frowned, and was about to go back outside when his nose picked up the faint scent of ammonia.
Urine.
Rath knelt beside the bed, covering the door with his pistol, and glanced underneath. He found an older man hiding under the bed, and saw that the man had soiled the seat of his pants. Rath hauled him out by his collar, and turned him over onto his back.
“Byrom?” the man asked. “Oh, thank god. What’s happening?”
Rath checked the man’s face against the target photo in his heads-up display, and confirmed the match. He stood up and fired four rounds into the man: two through the forehead, two through his heart. It took almost forty seconds for Pono’s vitals to flat line, and then Rath was back at the doorframe, swiveling his pistol through the door to check the landing. It was clear.
He was heading for the stairs when he heard the gunfire on the first floor stop, amid loud shouting. His onscreen translation appeared in near real-time.
Rath swore and doubled back, heading for the windows at the end of the landing. A quick glance confirmed it: Ikeda’s men had lost the fight for the courtyard. Several were sprawled on the ground near the trucks, while a dozen rebels covered the survivors from positions around the courtyard.
I can continue to pose as the rebel commander, but they’re going to figure out someone shot Pono, and all it takes is one radio call from the real Byrom and the gig is up.
Rath slipped back into the bedroom, shifted into one of his cover identities, holstered his pistol, and pushed the window open. It was a long drop to the street below, but the neighboring house’s roof was close by, and the wooden planks of the building looked to provide handholds enough.
Rath pulled himself out the window and hung from the sill for a moment, carefully pushing the window shut again before working his way up to the building’s slanted roof. He jogged across the roof, staying low, and then hopped to the next roof, looking for a fire escape or attic access. There were none, so he continued to the next building. As he hopped across, he heard a shout behind him, and glanced back to see a sentry on the roof of the target building.
Shit.
Rath saw a skylight ahead, but a burst of poorly-aimed fire streaked past his head and he lost his footing, slipping on the steep roof. He slid, scrabbling at the roof for purchase, and then suddenly he was flailing in mid-air. He twisted as he fell and landed on his left leg with an audible crack.
Rath groaned and rolled onto his back on the street. He drew his pistol, gasping as he felt the hemobots pump his leg with a painkiller. He took aim at the sentry and knocked him down with three well-placed rounds, but a second sentry appeared over the crest of the roof and returned fire. Rath rolled back toward the house he had fallen from, out of the rebel’s line of sight, and activated his tactical radio.
“Any government element, this is Katana 6,” he called, using Ikeda’s call-sign.
“This is Shogun 3, go ahead Katana.”
“Roger, Shogun,” Rath said. “Katana’s target has been eliminated, request immediate air extract.”
“Negative, Katana 6,” the man replied.
“Shogun, I am in enemy contact, cut off from my ground vehicles with no other means of transport out of the city!” Rath yelled.
“Katana 6, air transport assets are still grounded for safety at this time – general officer approval is required prior to release.”
Fucking Ikeda – still screwing me over, Rath thought, cutting off the connection. The street was still empty, but not for long. Rath noted that he was about ten feet from a garage door, so he used a drainpipe to pull himself upright, standing on his right leg, and then hopped down the sidewalk, dragging his useless broken leg behind him. At the garage, he pulled a breaching charge out of his Forge and slapped it on the wooden door, then hobbled to the side as it blew open an entry hole.
There were rebels in the street now, a large group running out of the target building in his direction. They fired at Rath as he ducked into the garage. He extended the pistol back out through the hole and fired several shots, forcing the rebels to take cover. Rath sighed with relief when he turned and saw a car parked in the garage. He pulled two multi-purpose grenades off his tactical vest, selecting a mode for each and then dropping them outside the garage. The first went off immediately, blanketing the street in thick smoke.
Rath maneuvered himself over to the car, smashing in a window with the butt of the pistol. He unlocked the door as the second grenade went off, adding a noxious gas to the smoke already choking the street. Rath held his breath as the gas spread inside the garage as well – the chemical agent was a super-charged version of tear gas that induced vomiting and involuntary muscle spasms. Rath hoped it would keep his pursuers away for the time he needed to hack the car. But without protective gear himself, he would need to minimize his own contact with the gas.
Once in the driver’s seat, Rath activated the car’s computer and glanced at the steering wheel to find the car’s brand logo. It was an older Athena; Rath’s picture-perfect memory pulled up the correct dealer override code. He punched the code into the computer, and the car went into mechanical diagnostic mode. Rath flipped through several screens of meaningless data – apparently the owner was overdue for a battery replacement – until he found the root menu. He accessed it, and entered another code that granted him super-user access to the car.
“Engine on,” Rath said. The old car rattled to life, rising several inches from the ground. Rath jammed the pistol into a cup holder and then threw the car into reverse, smashing through the remains of the garage door into the smoke-clouded street. He felt several shocks as he slewed the car around, and the car reported impacts on the rear bumper – Rath guessed he had hi
t several rebels. He switched the car to Drive and floored it, bursting from the smoke cloud as several weapons opened fire on him. Bullets shattered the car’s rear windshield. Rath took the first turn he saw, putting a block of buildings between himself and the rebels, and then checked the city map in his heads-up display, assessing his options.
When he had gone an additional four blocks, Rath slowed down, deciding that a speeding car would be easier to find should the rebels try to pursue him. The first light of dawn was just beginning to touch the city’s rooftops, and there were now other cars on the roads, so Rath matched their pace and checked his rear-view mirror for signs of Ikeda’s armored trucks, now in rebel hands. His broken leg throbbed despite the painkillers, but at least he could operate the car with his other leg. The traffic thinned as Rath drove farther from the city center, heading toward Colonel Sasaki’s attack column – with the battle still ongoing, the civilian populace was avoiding the roads in this part of the city. Rath tried to raise Shogun on the radio again, but gave up after the fourth unsuccessful attempt: the rebels must have been jamming signals in the area.
Then, abruptly, he was in the battle zone. He swerved around a burning car, accelerating as artillery rounds crumbled a building to his left. Rath saw groups of rebels moving between buildings, shifting positions to avoid the ongoing barrage. They ignored him, too busy with their own piece of the fight to notice a single civilian car. Rath could see tracer rounds ricocheting into the sky ahead – it looked like Sasaki’s men had finally advanced into the city itself. An aerial drone streaked overhead, engines shrieking as it went supersonic. Rath tried the radio again, to no avail, flinching as more artillery rounds landed behind him.
Finally, he saw several armored vehicles at an intersection ahead, with government troops taking cover beside the trucks. Without radio contact, Rath decided the best way to show the government troops that he was a friendly asset was to assist them somehow in the fight. He saw three rebels trading fire with a government squad from behind a pile of rubble, and hit the gas, pointing the car at the knot of men several hundred feet away. Then there was a horrible rending sound, like a giant sheet of paper being torn in two, and Rath felt himself caught up in a brutally hot blast of wind, and everything went dark.
