Hostage Rescue (Princess Rescue Inc Book 2)

by Hechtl, Chris

  Eugene nodded and had a paige get her a folding chair to use.

  When they were all assembled, they all looked to Eugene at the head of the table. "I thought it'd be time to circle the wagons, get everyone together," he said by way of introduction.

  "Olley olley-in-free it is. Yes, good idea," Charlie said.

  "How is Deidra?" Max asked. He ignored the surprised looks at the use of the imperatrix’s given name.

  "Beside herself, alternating between guilt, worry, and anger," Eugene said.

  "Oh, must be fun."

  "The good news is, she has a target. And heaven help the bastards if they do anything to her sister." He shook his head. His wife was alternating between sitting vigil near the radio and checking on Hermione. She had finally let him handle the military preparations.

  Max flexed his jaw and then nodded grimly. Others around the table did too. "Amen."

  "I guess we're back in the princess rescuing business?" Charlie quipped.

  Eugene snorted.

  “Okay, here's what we've got,” he said, opening the meeting up with a projection of the map on the screen behind him. Max went over to the switch and dimmed the lights and then resumed his seat.

  A drawn map was put up with the indicated areas in red. “What we know is that the coup took the castle and capital. According to the follow-up report, the barracks was torched with most of the soldiers trapped inside.”

  There was a hiss of anger and rage from some of the military personnel in the room. General Tacitus rapped his knuckles briefly to restore order and then nodded to the king. Eugene nodded slightly back.

  “We have a list of who is involved; we know their domains are in rebellion as well.” He flicked a finger and a new picture, this one of red spots appeared. “From there they moved south fast to secure the king's road and the border.” Another finger flick and click of a button and a new image appeared showing red along the border and the road.

  “We don't know who else is involved at the moment. We don't know if this is an open rebellion or a concentrated one. My bet is that these people saw an opportunity and lunged for it.”

  “How did they take the capital and castle when our people had guns?” Charlie asked just as Deidra came into the room. All eyes fell to her as the door opened and then people hastily lunged to their feet.

  She smiled ever so slightly and came over to Eugene. Eugene vacated his chair for her. He motioned to a paige to get another. The paige left the room to get a folding chair. When he returned Eugene took the folding chair next to her.

  “You were saying?” Deidra asked.

  “I was asking how they took the castle and capital,” Charlie said in a subdued voice.

  “We're still recapping what happened,” Eugene explained.

  “I care little for that at the moment. I wish to hear a plan of attack,” Deidra said firmly.

  “We need intelligence. We can't go in blind. We need to know where the enemy is and what they have,” Eugene stated firmly. “The enemy has our weapons,” he stated.

  “Can they copy them?” General Tacitus asked. He looked at the king who was looking at Max.

  Max grunted. “You would ask that. The short answer is yes … sort of.”

  “Sort of?” the general asked, instantly pouncing on the qualifier.

  Max spread his hands. “Some parts, yeah. Not all, they need specialized equipment to do some of it. And some of the parts have to be made out of hard metal. I know they don't have a rifling bench or other specialized equipment nor the knowledge to do it.”

  “But our smiths can figure it out?” Decurion Crassus asked.

  “If they caught them. Tacitus got away. So did some of the others,” Eugene stated. “But replicating the weapons themselves is only half of the equation. They also have to replicate gunpowder. All of that takes time and investment.”

  Charlie nodded. “The version we sent there is more than the basic black powder. And I can guarantee they can't replicate the brass rounds. No way, no how.”

  General Calabos Mitropoulos, the officer in charge of logistics, nodded in support. The decurion looked a bit relieved over that news.

  “That means their supplies are limited. I wonder if they'll be cautious?” General Tacitus murmured thoughtfully.

  “I currently believe that they will try to use their limited stock of our weapons to leverage holdouts,” Eugene stated. The general nodded but looked like he had an objection. Eugene put a hand up. “I realize they will be cautious, but after the stories of our weapons, just the sight of them might give someone incentive to surrender without a fight.” The general nodded grimly. “They may believe they can bully or blackmail the other dominus into supporting them. And, they may believe that if we attack in force the others will defend their homes out of patriotism, thus cementing them to their cause.”

  “I think you are on to something there, sire,” General Mitropoulos murmured.

  “Home court advantage,” Max muttered.

  Eugene nodded. “That too.”

  “Based on what we know they fought melee combat in a surprise attack in the capital and castle. They knew that our weapons are best out in the open,” Eugene stated.

  Heads nodded.

  “They only think they know that. We have some of the new weapons and the palace guard has some of your old ones. The close quarters ones,” the decurion stated. “With the legion, we can beat them at their own game.”

  His men had thought they'd have a comfortable time in the barracks or visiting family during the long winter. Despite the storms, he and General Tacitus had quickly disabused them of that notion. They had continued training, albeit for cold weather and rather light. They had recently stepped things up when news of Duluth's coup had reached them.

  “Currently they have numbers on their side but are limited on logistics. Which is why we're doing three things: we're gathering intelligence, looking at our logistics, and working on a way to use our tech advantage as force multipliers,” Eugene stated. “At the moment, we have people monitoring the radio, and I've dispatched an aircraft to the border.”

  Deidra's head snapped to look at him in surprise. Apparently, she'd missed that, Eugene noted.

  He smiled. “They staged through the Duchy of Emory and then a temporary landing strip on the other side of the pass,” he said, showing them a point on the map. “Yesterday the aircraft arrived at the border outpost. They should be over the border, weather permitting, doing the first scout now.”

  There were looks of eagerness over that news. The fact that they were doing something despite the weather probably had them going.

  “In the meantime, we have the images of the capital including some overhead shots.” Eugene clicked a key on his keyboard and brought up a slideshow that they had gotten on a memory chip from Zara. “These include some of the people involved on both sides. We'll need to make a map of the capital and castle for our people to train on. And we'll need printouts of the people we want to target.”

  “You are thinking about hitting back?” Max asked.

  “I'm thinking we need to lay the groundwork now,” Eugene replied. “But yeah, eventually, we're going to hit back. We're going to make them regret this … unwise decision on their part. Sorely.”

  There was a growl of agreement from those around the table.

  ~~~^~~~

  Over the south of Duluth

  Akemi Ping looked out her side window to the ice, snow, and woodland below. She was glad she was on a mission, and she knew how important it was. She hadn't had a problem flying the missions to Troy, but this was important too.

  An annus ago, she had been a jockey, destined to race and train branack. Then the Terrans had come and she'd been in line for a cavalry unit until she'd heard about the flying machines. She'd was small and light, loved heights, and hadn't hesitated to apply.

  To her surprise she'd gotten in. She'd even passed flight school. It might have been because she was of Asian descent as the master
smith Max had said. She had absorbed all of his lessons on aircraft engineering and maintenance as he called it, a sponge.

  She privately admitted she wasn't the best at the hands-on, but she knew you had to take care of your mount, whether it be made of flesh or paper, wood, and metal.

  Twice she had been delayed by snowstorms. By yesterday she had gotten to the border fortress. The new skis had made landing on the crusty snow easy, as long as the whiteout didn't blind her and make her misjudge the status of the landing strip.

  In the air, she felt safe; she felt alive! She banked slightly and throttled back on the engine as she hit a slight thermal. She needed to conserve as much fuel as possible. She had calculated she could fly 240 miles north safely, and then back with about fifty miles as a reserve. She kept checking around, taking notes of what she saw and triggering the cameras in the nose of the craft to take images of the ground.

  She knew people were anxious to get information about Duluth, and she intended to deliver. She flew high, hopefully too high for anyone to see her easily. Not many people were outside anyway. She took careful notes of the defenses. She took plenty of images of an avalanche making a note on her thigh pad that it was acting as a block in a choke point. When she got to her limit, she didn't hesitate, she turned back.

  She would be on empty when she got back to the fortress with the crosswind she was enduring. Hopefully, the trip was worth it. And, more importantly, hopefully someone brought her fuel soon. She didn't want to have to spend the winter in the partially-built border fort if she could help it.

  There was no way she was going to walk home she thought with a sniff.

  ~~~^~~~

  Imperial Capital

  When the aircraft returned to the border fortress, they radioed a report to the capital. General Tacticus had a staff assembled and took careful note of any holdings and outposts they suspected were in enemy hands.

  The pilot reported she was low on fuel, which was a problem. Eugene ordered a second aircraft to move fuel out to her. The Duchy of Emory had a small stockpile; they would start with that.

  They had six aircraft in operation but only two were outfitted to fly in the winter. Max was working on the others in a crash priority, no pun intended. With the crisis in Troy averted, the second aircraft could be redirected for logistical support.

  The idea was for one or more of the aircraft to act as a scout for the time being while the others staged through the airfields at Emory and the pass to get to the border. They would carry supplies to keep the scout in the air and bring back any images from her cameras. Eventually, Eugene wanted to build up enough of a stockpile of materials and men to be able to move north, bypassing the defenses in order to set up another temporary airfield and begin their counterattack.

  One of their priorities was to find Legatus Tycho and his people to get more information. Another priority was to get Casius Bellus back to where he could get proper medical care. The lad had done outstanding, and Deidra, the general, and Eugene had agreed he should be awarded for his outstanding efforts and sacrifice.

  ~~~^~~~

  As news of the coup spread through the capital and surrounding area, people began to come to the castle dressed in winter clothes, asking about Duluth and the princess. Some volunteered to help.

  Deidra was initially annoyed, but then touched by the outpouring of support from her people. It helped her put a few things in perspective, like that their lives mattered. She could not rush Eugene and the others into a bad attack that could get more of her people killed unnecessarily.

  ~~~^~~~

  The planning staff presented a basic briefing about the defenses. They made it clear there was no way to get an army north in the winter. Eugene nodded. He'd expected as much.

  “So, we're using Terran tech. Time for what you would call a bit of out-of-the-box thinking,” Eugene said to General Tacitus before he turned to Max.

  “For this to work, we'll need to know the max range of your aircraft. And we'll probably need to make some temporary air bases along the way. Which means we need your snowplows working on the road between here and Emory and the pass,” Eugene stated, looking at Max.

  Max grunted and then nodded. “I'll make a list up. Fuel and aviation mechanics, parts …,” he shook his head.

  “Put it on file or paper,” Eugene replied.

  "They have good defenses on the ground," General Tacitus stated.

  "But what about the air?" Eugene asked, cocking his head to the general.

  Max instantly grinned. "Bomb them?"

  "Bomb them into oblivion would be nice. But I'll settle for a few shock and awe weapons and some commando drops," Eugene stated.

  "FAE?" Max asked, rubbing his hands together.

  "Excuse me, for the non-Terran in the room," Deidra said raising a hand. "An interpretation?"

  "Bomb, an explosive device dropped by artillery or an aircraft like a balloon, dirigible, or fixed-wing aircraft," Max interpreted for her.

  "Like …?" she turned and then pointed to the model of the plane on the table.

  "Yes. Usually from aircraft made for war."

  "There are such things? Oh, wait, I remember the movies …," she frowned.

  " Top Gun and others," Eugene said helpfully. She looked at him and nodded. "You didn't understand them?"

  She shook her head.

  "Ah. Well, the idea is for an aircraft to drop explosives to break their defenses and to break up their troops and hit their buildings."

  "Fire. Imagine fire in their paddocks or granaries," the decurion suggested with a grin. “They would panic. They would be focused on putting the fire out, and our men could slip inside while they are distracted.”

  Deidra's eyes flared but then darkened in memory of a fire that had killed her mother.

  “I'd love to pay them back for burning the barracks with our people inside,” General Tacitus growled. “It was brilliant but …”

  "Yeah, let's not go there," Eugene said interrupting the general. He sensed Deidra's sudden mood shift and the reason behind it. Pain etched in her expression briefly before she nodded, letting him know she was in control of herself once more. "What we're saying is, up until now we've been using aircraft as they did in World War I. Scouts, light harassing attacks, little more. But this is different."

  "What of this FAE? Why did you spell it out?"

  "FAE stands for Fuel Air Explosive," Max explained. "It is a big firebomb.” He used his hands to describe something exploding outward. “It is a mix of gas and other things to thicken it, though I saw how you could make one out of simple coffee creamer or corn starch. It sucks the air in,” his hands moved together. “Killing people one way, and then sends a pulse of air out in a shockwave that crushes them.” His hands moved out fast. “It destroys a lot. It can also look pretty scary, like a nuke."

  "Shock and awe," Eugene added. "Break their will to fight. The animals won't like it at all. A few examples and the weak ones will run. The others will be so busy trying to restore order we can break them."

  The general nodded in appreciation. "Ah."

  "But the problem is, time," Max said grimly. "As in, time we need to perfect the long-range aircraft, time to make and test the bombs … safely I might add, I like my eyebrows intact!" he said.

  Eugene snorted.

  "But the flip side is time is not exactly on our side," General Mitropoulos said. "Every moment we waste means they could be hurting the others. Time for them to prepare, to make weapons of their own, or to gather more of their fellows to fight for them."

  “No half measures. An air strike will only work once or twice. After that they'll be warned and will work on counter measures,” General Tacitus warned.

  "We can't go off without being prepared properly, not again," Deidra said slowly. "A failed rescue is useless to my sister, and it only emboldens them further. Hiems is not the time for campaigns though." She bit her lip.

  Eugene rested a hand on hers. She looked down at it and t
hen up to him. Her eyes searched his.

  "The enemy thinks the same, right?"

  She nodded. "The road is impassible."

  "In some areas. But one of the things an aircraft can do is bring troops or spies in behind enemy lines," he explained, motioning with one hand flying over the tabletop.

  Slowly she caught on and then began to nod. "Send for our saboteurs and spies then," she ordered, lifting her chin to the paige.

  Act III