Most of the defenders had shut down their engines to conserve fuel. The time for that was ending. Now there were exhaust plumes coming from many of the vehicles.
The light was red, and the sun was beginning to show itself. It would climb slowly, and not very far, casting long shadows over the battlefield. The fighting would all be over before it dropped from sight again.
Erik moved closer to the cliffs. He zoomed his viewscreen in on the big boats on the horizon. They were curious-looking things, boxy, slab-sided, with low, peaked roofs broken by huge hatches. They looked more like floating buildings. Each was big enough to hold half a dozen ’Mechs, but there was no way of knowing what, if anything, they contained. They were lingering just outside missile range, and appeared to have dropped anchor.
Then something else moving on the horizon caught his eye. He panned the camera, and saw dozens of bumps on the horizon. Hovervehicles, tanks, missile carriers, scout cars, APCs—almost anything that could hover. Following them were bigger vehicles—hoverferries that probably had been pressed into service to haul troops and armor that moved on tracks or wheels. The attack was finally here. But where were the ’Mechs? They should be landing ahead of the main force.
He looked back at the big boats.
“Commander.” It was Sortek. “It may not do us any good now but Mary Neskowin says she knows what those ships are.”
“They’re what we call ‘bulkers,’ Commander. They haul heavy bulk cargo: rock fill, demolition rubble. We use them to haul away material that we dredge out of the channels so we can dump it at sea.”
“Dump it? How?”
“There are chutes in the bottoms of the hulls.”
Erik suddenly felt his stomach knot. “How deep is the water out there?”
“The bottom is flat out to about twenty miles, and there it’s no more than fifty meters deep.”
Erik switched quickly to the command channel. “This is Commander Sandoval. All units, we’ve got massed ’Mechs in the water! They’re coming up the beach!”
Just then something like a giant metal frog broke the surface a hundred meters off shore, two metal boxes on its shoulders belching fire. It was the upper torso of a Catapult, missile launchers blazing.
It was quickly joined by another, and another, then a Mad Cat III, laying down a rain of fire on the shore defenses.
The fire was quickly answered from above. Missiles exploded around the ’Mechs, as Long Toms, Snipers, and Thumper artillery units found their range. Direct fire came from units on the beach, and hoverunits that raced out into the surf to attack the ’Mechs from behind.
For a moment, and only a moment, the advance seemed to stall.
Then, another pair of ’Mechs appeared, breaking the surface even farther offshore than the first wave. They were tall, red-and-black giants, stubby fins on their backs like a hornet’s wings.
Tian-zongs. Heavily armored, overwhelming in firepower. In many situations, they were limited by their poor speed.
Not here.
They opposed a force that had nowhere to run. They moved in until they were chest-deep in the water, then set up an overlapping sweep of the beach, firing their lasers almost continuously, hammering larger targets with their Gauss rifles.
Erik watched helplessly as their forces were shredded, the Catapults and Mad Cats using the Tian-zongs’ cover to advance toward the cliffs. His fists clenched inside the Hatchetman’s cockpit. He ached to be down there with them. But he knew that, soon enough, the battle was coming to them.
The artillery and missiles screaming down from the cliffs were finally getting results. One of the Catapults waded back into the water, armor in tatters, plasma leaking from its damaged reactor.
A SwordSworn SM1 Tank Destroyer slid up the beach from behind one of the Mad Cats, firing as it skittered sideways on its hoverskirts right in front of the ’Mech, at what must have been its minimum range. It was a gutsy move, Erik thought, and a risky one.
The big gun on the Tank Destroyer fired, and the Mad Cat was momentarily engulfed in flame—the right arm flying loose in the conflagration, the right missile pod left hanging by a few cables and scraps of metal. But the lasers on the remaining arm and torso fired, cutting into the lightly armored SM1. The Tank Destroyer’s hoverskirts collapsed, the vehicle’s right side bit into the sand, and it rolled, turning into a flaming pinwheel that smashed into a dune and exploded.
The Tian-zong units were moving now, separating, each headed for a different tunnel entrance.
Erik knew what was coming next. “East Tunnel, West Tunnel, expect a direct attack soon. Artillery and missile units, reposition to defend those tunnels.”
But he also knew this left the center of the beach more lightly defended, and that the Liao forces would be quick to exploit that. “Everybody on top-side defense, stay awake. The fight is coming to us soon enough.”
More ’Mechs were wading out of the water now; lighter, faster ’Mechs like Spiders and Koshis, as well as more mobile heavy hitters like Black Hawks and Ryoken IIs. All of them, Erik noted, were models equipped with jump jets.
The Liao hoverunits were becoming bolder as well, spending more time on the beach in their sweeps, some of them moving past the docks and through the deserted streets of Port Archangel. Erik watched these latter units carefully, but it wasn’t yet time—
“Commander.” It was Sortek. “Those hoverferries are coming in closer.”
“Try to target them with missiles. They can’t be armored.”
“Yes, sir, they’re almost in range.”
Then it happened.
All along the beach, dozens of jump jets fired, and in an artificial sandstorm, a dozen ’Mechs began to rise up along the red cliffs of Ravensglade. “Armor, fall back from the cliff! ’Mechs incoming! ’Mechs incoming!”
And they came, rising over the lip of the cliff like fifty-ton hornets balanced on tails of fire, lasers blazing. A Black Hawk slammed down on a Thumper artillery unit, an accidental “death from above” attack that was no less deadly as the vehicle’s magazine detonated in a fountain of secondary explosions.
A Pack Hunter landed on the lip of the cliff, grabbed the smoking barrel of a Long Tom in its hands, and twisted the nearly red-hot metal into a slight curve. Unaware, the crew tried to fire at the incoming hoverferries, and the mighty cannon exploded, showering the surrounding vehicles with shrapnel.
Erik was momentarily awestruck as a Catapult seemed to rise out of the ground in front of him and loomed above. The much larger ’Mech landed no more than five meters in front of Erik, but the advantage was all his. Powerful though the Catapult was, it was all long-range punch. It had no short-range weapons, and no arms to defend itself.
Erik’s Hatchetman, on the other hand, was all about close-in fighting.
He swung his ’Mech’s namesake hatchet up then down, shredding the big ’Mech’s belly armor. It reared back, staggering off-balance, giving him a clear shot. He swung the hatchet again, faster this time, gutting the ’Mech like a trout.
In slow motion, the Catapult toppled backward over the cliff. He watched as it fell, and had the added satisfaction of seeing the sixty-five-ton ’Mech land headfirst on top of an attacking Tian-zong. Already having weathered countless rounds of defensive fire, the big ’Mech’s armor cracked, and it began to hemorrhage fluids through the opening.
The surviving SwordSworn units below the cliff were quick to target the weakness, hammering away at the breach. The Tian-zong turned, slowly lumbering back toward the sea. It was a move of desperation. If seawater flooded through the hole into a critical system, the ’Mech would be disabled. In the end, it didn’t matter. The concentrated attacks continued until the mortally wounded colossus tumbled face-first into the surf and lay, half exposed, like an artificial island.
Erik heard cheering in his headset, but the fighting had only begun.
A glint of light caused him to look out to sea, just in time to spot a line of flitting insect shapes flying
in low over the water. The flash was a reflection from the windscreen of a Donar Assault Helicopter. The nimble aircraft fanned out to cover the landing of the hoverferries: two on the beach below, others beyond at the docks in Port Archangel.
Troops and armor began rolling off. The armor would be trapped below until the tunnels were cleared. But with defenses scattered, troops in powered armor would begin scaling the cliff with jump jets.
Erik heard a shrill voice on the command channel. “This is lower East Tunnel! They’re coming through! We’re falling—” There was an explosion just inside the tunnel mouth, and the transmission was silenced. Erik grimaced, but it wasn’t unexpected.
He could see the streets of Port Archangel filling with fighting vehicles and massed infantry coming from the docks and headed for the East Tunnel. If they thought they had clear passage, they were wrong. Each of the tunnels had a surprise in the middle: back-to-back pairs of DI Schmitt Tanks, deadly “stoppers” that could resist incursions from above or below, and would be protected from ’Mechs and long-range weaponry. If the Liao forces were going to use the tunnels, they were going to have to pay the toll.
Erik had planned one other surprise, too, though timing was critical. He waited until the helicopters—with the landing essentially complete—dashed up over the cliffs to engage the forces above. As the Liao forces cleared the far side of Port Archangel, he issued a radioed command. “Force Archangel, attack!”
In the hours before dawn, Erik had deployed powered armor, and many of his heavier and less mobile tanks, to Port Archangel. They had carefully sheared off the hidden sides of warehouses—mostly those with metal sides or roofs, driving the tanks inside the building shells to wait. The buildings would confuse the enemy and give the SwordSworn an advantage. Likewise, the powered infantry had been hidden around the city.
Now the city behind the advancing Liao forces literally exploded, buildings bursting apart as tanks crashed out, turned onto the streets, and began firing at the enemy’s exposed flank.
Powered infantry spread out on either side, using the buildings as cover, sniping at the surprised and off-balance column, which was bunching up at the tunnel entrance. The first units in were shocked to find themselves greeted with a hellish mix of machine-gun bullets, autocannon shells, lasers, and flamethrowers.
Erik’s elation was short-lived, as one of the air-defense towers exploded under a hail of laser fire from the swarming Donars, and another was taking heavy fire from a mass of light ’Mechs. “Legionnaires, take those ’Mechs on AD Tower Six!”
A trio of ’Mechs dashed into view from behind a hangar. The odd-looking Legionnaires were little more than giant rotary cannons mounted on top of humanoid torsos. Fast, specialized, and deadly accurate, they began pounding away at the smaller ’Mechs with devastating results. A Spider was immediately ripped apart by the massed fire. A Koshi spun and returned fire, a missile smashing into one of the Legionnaires and jamming its cannon. Then the Koshi went down under fire from the surviving units’ rotary autocannon.
The surviving enemy ’Mech, a Panther, ignored the attack and lobbed off one more salvo of missiles at the tower, which exploded and began to burn.
Erik spotted a pair of big Ryoken IIs lining up on another tower. He was outmatched, but he might be able to draw their attention. He charged past them, lasers and autocannon firing. He swung the hatchet and managed to wing one of them. It barely scraped the armor, but it made enough noise to wake them up.
“Now I’ve done it,” he muttered as he zigzagged, trying to throw off their fire. The ’Mechs were bigger, better-armed, and faster than he was. His only advantage now was that he was already moving full speed, and they had to accelerate to catch up.
Autocannon fire streamed past his canopy and began peeling off his rear armor. His damage displays flickered to yellow, and then red. Just ahead he spotted what he’d been looking for, the ramp leading down into one of the big ’Mech tunnels. “This is Sandoval. I’m headed into Portal Five with company! Two, heavy!”
He skidded the Hatchetman around the corner and down the ramp into the dark opening below.
The bigger ’Mechs had to slow to take the turn, giving him a greater lead. He switched to infrared, hoping that his pursuers would be slower to do so. In the close quarters, they’d be reluctant to use most of their weaponry, though that wouldn’t be a problem if they caught him. Even his hatchet wouldn’t be enough to save him.
He raced past a row of deep alcoves in the tunnel walls, then put the brakes on, sliding his ’Mech to a stop and turning. The Ryokens slowed as well, suddenly wary.
As they should have been.
From the alcoves burst a veritable swarm of DrillingMechs and PipelineMechs, welders arcing, claws poised to snap, diamond drills flashing. One of the little ’Mechs was quickly swatted aside, and another blasted apart by point-blank autocannon fire, but the Liao ’Mechs were already taking damage, being dragged down. Erik carefully targeted the closer of the two Ryokens, centering the cockpit in his crosshairs and giving it everything he had.
Weapons flashed with blinding brilliance in the dark tunnel. Erik saw the Ryoken’s canopy begin to crack. He charged in and brought his hatchet down with all the force he could. There was a satisfying “crunch” as the blade collapsed the canopy and sank deep into the ’Mech’s torso.
He turned to the second enemy ’Mech, just in time to see a diamond drill sink deep into its gyro housing. The resulting explosion ripped the drill arm of the IndustrialMech, but the mortally wounded Goliath collapsed and lay twitching on the tunnel floor.
Erik called his congratulations to the IndustrialMech pilots, but he was already running for the next ramp to the surface.
“Commander!” Sortek’s voice sounded high and stressed. “We’ve lost Towers One and Three! We’re losing ground up here—we’ve lost three of nine towers.”
In theory, any three towers could still protect the base. In theory. In any case, at this rate they wouldn’t have three for very long. Even one might offer some protection, but the forces waiting to drop down from orbit were overwhelming. “When’s the next reentry window?”
“That cluster of four has a window in three minutes and—”
Erik’s Hatchetman emerged from the tunnel just in time to see the top of Tower Two explode.
He began running toward Tower Eight. “Concentrate on defending the remaining towers! We’ve got to hold them for at least three more minutes!”
The fighting was furious, and it seemed to be going on everywhere at once. Though Erik didn’t notice anyone targeting him, he was repeatedly splashed by stray fire, ripping at the armor of his already battered ’Mech.
His autocannon were empty, and warning lights indicated his lasers were having problems. He didn’t have to look at the indicators to know that heat was building up. He could feel it in the cockpit, in the sweat that soaked his body and dripped down his face.
Three minutes! Less now! They might make it!
To his right, SwordSworn troops in battle armor swarmed over a stricken Catapult. To his left, an attacking Mad Cat III blasted away at a Legionnaire, its gun either jammed or out of ammo. Erik spotted a squad of Liao battle armor ahead, and veered to run through them, trampling at least one in the process.
Then the East Tunnel belched a column of fire that angled up a hundred meters before it darkened and turned into boiling smoke.
“We’ve lost the East Tunnel,” shouted Sortek. “We’ve got heavy tanks incoming!”
Black smoke was still streaming from the portal as the first tank burst through, guns and lasers blazing. It was followed immediately by another, and another—a solid stream of metal that seemed endless.
Erik turned, charging into the firing guns, bringing his hatchet down again and again, while dodging fire. But he kept taking hits. More and more indicators turned red. The cockpit was like an oven. Warning buzzers screamed in his ears as he struggled to keep the ’Mech from shutting down.
Something different popped from the tunnel mouth. A boxy, wheeled vehicle that bristled with missiles the way a sea urchin is covered with spines, a JESII Strategic Missile Carrier. Immediately, every available SwordSworn weapon targeted the lightly armored vehicle, but not before it launched a devastating volley of a hundred missiles over their heads.
Towers Eight and Nine were knocked out.
Erik screamed into his radio. “How long? Did we lock out their window?”
Sortek’s voice sounded hollow. “Sorry, Commander. They didn’t wait for the towers to be knocked out. They started their de-orbit burn while all four towers were still up.”
That was it, then. They’d lost. Even if the DropShips didn’t arrive, they’d eventually lose, but when the ’Mechs began to fall from the sky, they were certainly doomed. We gave it a good fight, though. He looked at the destroyed and burning Liao ’Mechs and armor scattered around him. We made them pay for it.
“Commander. I don’t understand. We still show four incoming DropShips, but we’re tracking debris along their old orbital track. We’re also tracking two more DropShips vectoring away at high acceleration.”
Erik’s eyes widened. He scarcely dared to hope. “Are we getting a friendly identification on the incoming ships?”
“Negative, Commander. No signal.”
“Do you mean they’re sending House Liao codes?”
“No sir, no signal.” There was a pause. “Commander, we’ve got ’Mechs separating from the incoming ships. They look like Union-class DropShips. We’ve got four braces of ’Mechs incoming ahead of them. Still no signal.”
Erik could do little but try to keep his wounded ’Mech out of harm’s way, ducking behind buildings and steering away from obvious threats. He tried to shed heat, so he could at least move in to use the hatchet, do some damage.
He glanced up, and could see the jump jets of incoming ’Mechs, like a staggered line of dim stars. Further back, toward the horizon, he could see the DropShips themselves, four bright stars in a tight line.
Fortress of Lies Page 25
