Highlander Gambit

by Blaine Lee Pardoe

  "We've got to do something," Jake said, anger rising in his voice. "Thousands will die."

  Loren nodded. "First off, let's make sure that Mr. Frutchey has the whole story in case we get captured. Code a message to him, Laurie."

  "On it." Her fingers flew over the small keypad of the portable transmitter. The message was hurried and short, but gave the Lieutenant enough that he would fully understand the implications.

  Loren turned to Sergeant Major Pluncket. "Where did you say the Third Royals established their command post?"

  The elder Highlander pointed out the darkened window across the street. "You were practically knocking at their door. They've set up in the middle of the Peace Park, they have. Any closer and you would've tripped their security screen and had a full company on yer butts. The bulk of their troops are spread out in the northwest end of the city. They've been digging in for the past few days, hiding their 'Mechs and tanks in buildings. The bloody dogs have ruined plenty of our people's homes to hide themselves."

  "Mop up forces," Carey added, not even slowing her work on the tiny transmitter. "Anything that manages to survive their little ambush gets killed by the hidden 'Mechs."

  Loren knew the tactic all too well, having used variations of it himself throughout his career. "We're going to have to confirm some of this, capture some images on disk as evidence. This building is five stories tall. Captain Carey, you and Jake get on up to the roof. Don't expose yourselves, but get some images of their HQ in Peace Park. Track the positions of any BattleMechs or tanks you happen to see." Jaffray checked his chronometer. "If we're not out of here in thirty minutes it'll be light."

  * * *

  The five-hour trek out of Tara and into the mired swamps south of the city was oddly silent. Pluncket needed to stop every hour and rest. Jaffray and the black-clad members of his recon lance halted but did not talk. What more was there to say? Their mood was dark by the time they reached Frutchey and the half-submerged 'Mechs in which they'd made the push to Tara. The Lieutenant's expression was equally dark, since he'd read Carey's transmission before sending it on to Colonel MacLeod. Loren sensed the lance's feeling of hopelessness.

  The laser images captured by Fuller and Carey on the roof of the abandoned building confirmed much of what Pluncket had told them. The ages-old Peace Park had been turned into a staging base of operations for the Third Royals. Tanks and BattleMechs ringed the mobile HQ and communications vehides, which, ironically, were similar to those MacLeod had lost earlier in the campaign. The images of the spaceport were less conclusive but did confirm some of the story. At the very least they'd learned that the 'Mech-carrying DropShips had been removed to prevent their loss in the explosive ambush.

  Lieutenant Frutchey was the only one with any good news. He'd received a transmission indicating that MacLeod's forces were already well on their way to the rendezvous outside Tara. He had no specific details except that the siege of The Castle had ended several days earlier. Meanwhile, MacLeod was apparently using a ruse to confuse the Davion surveillance and intelligence forces.

  There was still hope. With troops heading this way Loren thought there as still a chance to do something, anything, to stop the Royals' ambush. He thought about Mulvaney, and wondered if she might be the one ace in the hole. These are her people. She'd never sit back and let them get blown to kingdom come. No matter what kind of loyalty she feels to Victor Davion, she 'd never turn her back on everything most dear to her. Chastity Mulvaney was no cold-blooded killer. The deaths of innocents would hurt her, maybe even be enough to bring her back to MacLeod.

  Loren stood on the small dry knot of land that rose up out of the swamp around them and looked the other members of his lance, including the newest member, Mr. Pluncket, in the eye. "I have to make a decision," he said. "With MacLeod's Regiment on the way and a good chance of a Davion trap in Tara, we have to move and move smartly."

  Carey wiped the camouflage paint off her face while she spoke. Loren didn't have to see how much darker were the circles under her eyes to know they'd been pushed to their limit both physically and emotionally. "Major, we're with any plan you've got, as long as it makes sure those blasted Royals don't succeed in taking out Stirling's Fusiliers or the city. I'll do whatever it takes to stop them. If your orders aren't in line with that, then you can have me brought up on charges when I mutiny."

  It also didn't take much to see that they were running on sheer emotions now. Jake and even Pluncket looked ready to take their guns and head straight back to Tara. But Loren knew that kind of thinking wouldn't solve anything—yet. They needed focus, something to guide them to a victory rather than a wasted punch against twelve to one odds. I have to ask them to trust me and make them understand that this meets their needs for vengeance. "I hear you clear enough, Captain. Trust me when I say I won't sit on my hands and let the Royals blast the Fusiliers off the face of the planet.

  "The reality is that the Fusiliers are on their way, but the fact that they aren't due yet buys us some time. Captain Carey, if you want to run off and take on an entire FedCom RCT, go right ahead. You will be missed and your death will be in vain. Striking out in pure anger will just end you up as a casualty figure and won't contribute one bit to a victory. You'll be nothing more than a name on a caber. I won't stand in your way, but don't get in ours."

  His words hit hard and Carey averted her eyes as she listened. "I mean for us to put an end to their little scheme. We have something now that we haven't had since the start of this entire operation, some intelligence as to what is going on. We now know where the enemy is and what their plans are. That's no small thing. With this knowledge we can put together a plan to crush the Third Royals. You don't need to sit around here in the mud depressed. Be glad. We finally have an advantage."

  "I sure don't feel like celebrating ... sir," Fuller replied coldly. "We're still outnumbered, what with Mulvaney and Catelli's forces in the mountains. It's only a matter of time before they spot our regiment and close in on us."

  "I'm sorry, Jake, but looking purely at the odds is not a trait I would have associated with a Northwind Highlander. I was raised to believe that you were fighters. If you really think there's no chance, perhaps we should just surrender now and start praying merely to survive." Jaffray's voice was filled with mock contempt. Fuller looked angry, but did not retract his words. He only glared back at Loren, who ignored it. I'm on the edge of losing them, but at least they're still listening—and I'd better take advantage of that while I can. They need a plan to follow. Something they can believe in. It's time to hit our enemy where he's weakest.

  "The key to all of this is Mulvaney," he announced boldly.

  "What?" Jake sputtered, his anger obviously risen a notch. "She betrayed the Colonel and the whole of the Highlanders. What do you mean she's the key?"

  "She hasn't betrayed anybody, Jake," Loren returned. "She's given your people a way to preserve their honor. I haven't known her long, but I don't believe Mulvaney is one to stand by and let the Davions blow the Fusiliers to ribbons. Even if Colonel MacLeod himself had walked in and killed Burns, there's no way she'd submit to any plan to annihilate a full regiment of Highlanders without giving them a fighting chance. And she'd never stand by while there was the danger of innocent Highlander families becoming hostages or casualties. Chastity Mulvaney would never be part of a plan to level the city of Tara. And you know I'm right." And if I'm not, what I'm about to propose might expose us all to death.

  "Major Jaffray is right," Sergeant Major Pluncket said from his seat on a small rock. "We've all known her for years. Chastity Mulvaney would never sit by and let all this happen. She's one of us, bonded by blood. A Highlander through and through. You've all fought by her side. Remember the Clans, laddie. Old Ironheart, you named her. Carey, you served under her on Glengarry against them bloody Skye rebels. If my memory serves, she saved your company's collective butts, eh, lassie?"

  "What do you propose?" Carey said, looking as though Pluncket's word
s had been a cold slap of reality.

  "I'm willing to bet that Mulvaney is being kept totally in the dark," Loren said slowly, feeling his way. "It's the only thing that makes any sense. If she finds out what's going on in Tara, she might just help turn the tables on Catelli and his crew. One of us will head toward the training camp with the mission of pretending to change sides and join Mulvaney's Highlanders. When you meet her, pass on all we've learned. Let her know what's happening, and more important, what we think is going to happen."

  Jake's forehead was creased deeply in thought. "You realize you're asking us to take a pretty big risk. If you're wrong, she'll know we're wise to them and their scheme. Not to mention what will happen to us if we walk right into their hands."

  "But I'm not wrong and you know it, Jake ... All of you know it in your hearts. If Mulvaney's Highlanders turn, there'll be no hope for Catelli or the Third Royals."

  "Maybe we should check with Colonel MacLeod," Frutchey offered. "I mean this is a pretty big risk, not just who goes but for the entire regiment."

  Jaffray shook his head. "There's not time. Hell, we could be discovered any minute and all of this would become moot. No. We must do it and do it now. I accept full responsibility for the decision." I know I'm right. Everything tells me I am. I only hope we can get a message to Mulvaney.

  "I'll go," Lieutenant Fuller said. "I've known the Major the longest and she'll listen to me."

  "No," Loren said, cutting him off. "I've got another idea." I only wish I was going myself... "Someone she might believe even more." He turned to Sergeant Major Pluncket. "Sir, you and Major Mulvaney are fairly close, are you not?"

  "Me, laddie? Aye," Pluncket said, patting his artificial limb. "But in all honesty it's been a lot of years since this warrior took to the field. Espionage and spyin' were never my strong suit."

  "If any one of us goes, Mulvaney might suspect a trick or trap. If it's Mister Pluncket showing up on her doorstep, she'll know he'd never try to lure her out into some sort of ambush."

  "Are ye sure, laddie? This old war mule has no' been in the field in some time."

  "I'm sure, Sergeant Major. Jake, I saw one of those Rotunda armored cars at the edge of the city where we first went in. Do you remember it?"

  "Yes."

  "What are the chances of you and Mister Frutchey sneaking back and stealing that car?"

  Frutchey and Fuller smiled at each other as if they were going to enjoy the task. "I'd say we can handle it."

  "Good. Get going, then. Mister Pluncket, you go with them. Take the car and head up the highway to the training camp. I know we're playing a hunch, and I wouldn't ask you to if I wasn't so sure it would work. Mulvaney's the pivot point. Sway her and we can cut off the rest of the Davion plan at the knees."

  "I'll try and no' let ye down, Major," Pluncket said. "You won't. When you see Mulvaney, will you pass a message on to her?"

  "Sir?"

  "The last time I saw her she told me I'd be picking the place for the next time we meet. Tell her it's Tara. She'll understand." One way or another Mulvaney will make sure she gets here, either to learn the truth for herself or to stop me. Either way I bring this fight to an end once and for all.

  The Sergeant Major nodded. "Understood, sir," he said crisply, and from the gleam in his eye, Loren thought that the old infantryman might at that.

  32

  South of Tara, Northwind

  Draconis March, Federated Commonwealth

  17 October 3057

  Loren walked out of the water and wrapped the towel around his waist. Bathing was a rarity on a long campaign, but even by those standards he was feeling gamy. Regimental field quarters sometimes offered the luxury, but this time Loren had to content himself with a pond at the edge of the swamplands south of Tara. He doubted that the disinfectants and deodorizers in his field kit would do much good, but he sprayed them on anyway, knowing it would make him feel better.

  The past few days had not been easy for him and the recon lance. Remaining in one spot too long risked eventual detection so he'd kept the lance on the move. Skirting the swamps, they'd made several sorties toward Tara, each time gaining more information and data. Frutchey and Fuller had managed to obtain some laser images of Kohler Spaceport and confirmed much of the story they'd heard from Mister Pluncket. Cargo-hauler transports were being unloaded and the combat DropShips of the Third Royals had been moved away to prevent their destruction.

  His lance members did not realize it, but Loren was carefully mapping out their path and their locations. In the time they spent dug in, he was often in his cockpit, running a series of calculations on his 'Mech's computer. There was a reason. Up in the sky, some two hours above Northwind, the Death Commandos were supposed to be in place, safe at their pirate jump point, awaiting word from him. Communicating with them was going to be difficult, but he thought he knew of a way.

  Loren rubbed the ever-thickening stubble of his beard as he made his way to the Gallowglas. What concerned him most was the fact that the Royals had begun several recon missions of their own. Prompted no doubt by the deaths of the troopers in Peace Park, the security net around Tara was growing stronger and wider each day, forcing Loren to keep pulling back away from the city. They aren't sure if our rescue of Pluncket was organized resistance or sheer coincidence. The Royals officers are probably getting edgy, worried that their little surprise might be exposed. Good. Let them sweat. Maybe it will lead them into making some sloppy mistakes.

  What had caught Loren most off guard was the blanket of communications silence that had suddenly been imposed between his lance and the main body of MacLeod's troops. Not wanting to risk detection, the Colonel had ordered a blackout of signals after their initial transmission. There'd be silence on that end until the two groups made contact again. Despite the lack of response to their reports, Loren kept on transmitting in hopes that someone from the regiment was receiving and analyzing their findings.

  To the west were the Rockspire Mountains, and Loren stared at their dark, jagged shapes against the bright sky. Somewhere up there is Mulvaney... and hopefully Pluncket. She's up there by choice. He went on my orders, but seemed to think, it was a good idea anyway. Ever since the Sergeant Major had gone off, Loren had been wondering how the mission would turn out. He'd studied the maps, and knew the highway up into the mountains would bring the stolen Rotunda to the training camp in short order.

  But how would Mulvaney respond to the information Pluncket was bringing? Had Catelli or Bradford twisted and distorted her thinking so much that she would no longer side with MacLeod and the rest of the Highlanders?

  He'd also sent details of the mission to the regiment before the cut-off of communications. How would MacLeod respond when he received word? The Colonel was the embodiment of the Highlanders and their long and illustrious history. In that regard he reminded Loren of his grandfather, whose wisdom and approval he'd always valued.

  He was climbing up the ladder footholds on the Gallowglas when he heard a light wail from the open cockpit. The emergency communications signal. How long had he been standing and thinking while his lancemates had been calling for him? Loren chided himself inwardly. He couldn't afford to get sloppy. Not now. Scrambling fast he reached the communications panel and activated the internal speaker.

  "Jaffray here," he said, dropping the towel and pulling on his pilot's trunks.

  The speaker spat back a hiss of static and garbled words as the 'Mechs communication system unscrambled the incoming transmission. "Carey here. We have targets closing in, bearing three-two-two at approximately five kilometers."

  Loren toggled his fusion reactor to life as he snugged the neurohelmet over his head and down onto his shoulders. "I'm powering up now. Frutchey, do you confirm?"

  "Yes, sir," the young Lieutenant's vice snapped. "Tracking the incoming targets now. I show four, no, make that five 'Mechs."

  "You'd better pull along the right flank if you can, David," Carey returned. "I paint a total of e
ight 'Mechs on my long-range scan, light to medium configurations, moving fast in wide vee formation."

  "No can do, Captain. Two of those I'm showing are moving into the moors and are cutting me off. My best bet is to pull north and link up between you and the Major."

  Loren throttled his heat sinks on line and bypassed his own security coding to get the Gallowglas started as quickly as possible. The 'Mech seemed to vibrate to life as he pushed it forward into the swamp waters where only moments before he'd been bathing. If it's the Third Royals, they've sent this task force a long way to get behind us. It was only a matter of time before they figured out we were here, I guess. If they push matters we'll be driven right into the city and into their hands.

  "Frutchey, they're trying to push you north. That'll trap us up against the city and the bulk of their forces. Hold your position. Carey and I will come to you and we'll punch our way out and to the south before they can solidify their position."

  "Confirmed, sir," Captain Carey responded. "Hold on to your linen, Mister Frutchey. The cavalry is on the way." Loren stared at his long-range scanner and saw the line of 'Mechs approaching from the south as well as the positions of his own lance. Fuller and his Shadow Hawk were near Carey and moving in as well, but even so, they were outnumbered and outgunned nearly two to one. The terrain would help even up the odds but not nearly enough for a chance of true victory.

  But perhaps there was no need for victory. "Frutchey, this is Jaffray. They're in short range. Run an IFF check on those targets, and fast."

  There was a long pause as Loren came into visual sighting of Carey's Guillotine lumbering through the light swampland and trees. In the distance Fuller's Shadow Hawk pushed its way through a cluster of trees and into view as well. Loren's heart raced as they closed in on the mysterious 'Mechs that were closing on them. His sensors told him that the attackers were tightening their noose, but the moors were slowing them down.