Jump Pay

by Rick Shelley

  "You remember the briefings before we started out on this campaign," Dacik said. "A chance to stop a major Schlinal invasion... somewhere, maybe a chance to bring the war to an end. If we withdraw, the war goes on for certain. We've done a lot of damage, but there are still two or three regiments of Heggies on the ground, plus however many are coming in, and at the stores in Site Charley. If we stay, even if we end up getting wiped out, there's a good chance that we'll do enough damage to the Heggies that they won't be able to mount another offensive against the Accord anytime soon. It might end the war. That is what I've got to put into the balance, Ben. That's our mission here."

  "Okay, Kleff." The resignation was obvious in Kitchener's voice. "We'll make our stand here, win or lose. I'll do what I can to cut down on the odds for you. And I'll get a message drone on its way out before the Heggie fleet reaches us. Things go really bad up here, you might have to wait a couple of months for a ride home." Radio messages were limited to the speed of light in normal space. For more urgent communications over interstellar distances, small unmanned rockets equipped with hyperspace drives could be launched with documents or recordings. It would take weeks for the message to get through, but not the years that radio would have taken.

  "I'll make sure my exec has transmitted the latest additions to our battle log to CIC," Dacik said. "Send that along with your message, Ben."

  "Right. Good luck, Kleff."

  "The same to you. I'll buy you a drink when we get back to Albion." He almost said if.

  —|—

  The nearest building of the Heggie base was only 250 meters from Echo Company. But there was a line of Heggie defenders between them, on higher ground than Echo. A series of machine gun emplacements with overlapping fields of fire was the clincher. The advance by the four companies of the 13th that had landed at the airfield had come to a complete halt.

  "We're going inside," Dem Nimz told what was left of his platoon—sixteen men, not including himself. Barely more than a fourth of the number he had started with. "We'll set four small charges on the door, blow it off, then take on whatever we find on the other side. We're sure not doing anything out here but dying." He had already heard about the incoming fleet but did not share that news with his men. It was not, Lieutenant Colonel Parks had informed him, for general dissemination yet.

  Dem detailed his men, watched as the explosives were placed over the hinges and latch on the door—enough to blow it completely across the kiosk. If there were any Heggies behind that door, they wouldn't be there for long. The problem would come from enemy soldiers farther down, on the stairs, or on the floor of the building.

  Dem slipped a fresh magazine into his rifle. Despite all of the use he had given the weapon, he still had a couple of hundred rounds left. He had carried all of the ammunition he could. Around him, the others checked their weapons—zippers and cough guns.

  "We've been here long enough to get about a half charge on our belts," Dem said. "We get on the stairs, we're going all of the way down. We hit much Heggie wire, jump. Get to the floor as quickly as you can without breaking bones."

  The men all looked at the power indicators for their belts. A half charge did not mean that they would get exactly half the time or distance that they could get from a full charge. In practice, it was less, perhaps no more than a third of what a full charge would permit.

  "Clip the fuses," Dem said. He took a quick but deep breath and forced it out. Ten-second fuses. The shaped charges would direct virtually all of the explosive force inward, but when the door went, there might still be debris blasted back. The reccers got as far back as they could, prone on the roof. Half had the sides of the kiosk to shelter them. That was built of stone. There was little chance of it going in the blast.

  The four charges went off together. The metal door crumpled and blew inward. There was little smoke, more dust. A sharp report. The sound of the door crashing against the inside wall and the top of the metal stairway was lost in the ringing of ears from the initial blast.

  "Go!" Dem screamed, even though his visor was down and he was shouting into his microphone. He pushed himself to his feet and into a sprint, as if he had fifty meters to cover instead of just five.

  He was the first man through the doorway. He dove forward, sliding through hot debris, and came to a stop with a rifle aimed down the stairs. There were several Heggies visible at the bottom of the stairway. They were simply staring upward, not yet recovered from the surprise of the explosion. Three of those men fell to Dem's rifle before the last two men in the group dove for cover. By that time, three more reccers were at the top of the stairs spraying wire. Those last two Heggies went down hard.

  Dem jumped to his feet and started down the stairs, scanning as much of the warehouse's interior as he could, shooting at any hint of movement, even when it was only his imagination. This warehouse appeared to be nearly full of supplies. That meant that there were a lot of sections of the floor, aisles between the stacks, where Heggies might be hiding, invisible to anyone on the stairs.

  One of the men behind Dem tripped and sprawled forward. The man thought fast, though. Before he could start to tumble into the men on the stairs below him, he got a hand to his belt and switched it on. The gyro stabilizers righted him as he hooked the pipe that served as a railing at the side of the stairs and swung himself sideways over the bannister, then started a rapid descent to the floor of the warehouse. Farther up on the stairs, three other reccers jumped on their belts, spraying wire as they dropped.

  Dem stayed on the stairs. There was very little wire coming toward the reccers. Apparently, there were only two Heggies still shooting. Dem got one of them. The other ducked around a stack of crates and ran. Before Dem reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard a door slam. He went to cover behind the nearest stack of crates, on the floor, his rifle out, covering two aisles while he waited for the rest of his men to get down the stairs and into position.

  That was easier than I expected, Dem thought, but he wouldn't say it. There was still enough superstition in the man that he would not "jinx" the team by voicing such optimism.

  "Let's give this place a quick scan," Dem said as soon as his team was in place. "See what's here. Make sure there are no more Heggies waiting to surprise us."

  They spread out along the wall where the stairway was, then worked their way across to the other side, two or three men to an aisle. They paused at each intersection to make certain that there were no enemy soldiers on the cross aisles, then went on through the next section. Since they never came under fire, the operation only took a couple of minutes.

  "Lot of munitions here," Fredo observed after they had finished and set men to watch the two exterior doors and an inner door that they suspected led to another underground tunnel complex. Dem had kept Fredo close to him. Gariston was still woozy from the medpatches, unable to do much with one useless arm, but he insisted on taking part. "We gonna blow it the way we did at the first place?"

  "We might have trouble getting out of the way this time," Dem said. "Let's rig it, in case we get a chance." Or in case we get to the point where getting out doesn't matter, he thought.

  —|—

  Basset three exploded before it got off its first round on the new fire mission. It had been hit right under the front lip of its turret. Gun and turret had flipped off, backward. There was no need to wonder about the fate of the crew. They didn't have a chance.

  "Those Novas are too damn close," Simon Kilgore said as he brought Basset two to a stop so that Karl could fire. At close to maximum range, Eustace didn't want to fire on the move. There were friendlies too close to the target coordinates, on two sides.

  "They're Dingo's responsibility for now," Eustace said after the round was out and Simon had the Fat Turtle moving again. "Let's make sure we get our job done."

  The howitzer moved left seventy-five meters, then pulled back fifty. Long before Simon brought the Havoc to a halt again, the next round was in the chamber and the targeting
computer needed only the last few decimal points to correct its aim. That round went out and the Fat Turtle started to move again. This time, the jaunt would be a little longer, to a place no closer than two hundred meters from any of its previous firing positions. A good Havoc driver really didn't need the help of his navigating computer to keep away from previous firing positions, but most used it at least as a backup.

  Basset two got off two more rounds before they were switched to a new target—and allowed to move farther back from the canal.

  —|—

  Echo Company had moved two hundred meters south in its attempt to outflank the Heggies defending the roads leading from the airfield to their main base, but there were still Heggies in front of them.

  "Get your heads down," Joe warned his platoon. "Artillery fire coming in."

  At first, the Havocs concentrated on the sections of the Heggie defenses that blocked the two roads, and the area between those roads. Then the line of incoming shells marched farther south. The explosions were placed about twenty meters apart. Havoc targeting systems were good. Since the kill radius of a Havoc HE round was more than twenty meters, that left a fifty percent overlap.

  "Up and at 'em!" Captain Keye ordered as soon as the artillery blasts moved farther south. Echo got to its feet and moved forward, shooting on the run.

  They covered more than half of the distance before a few of the Heggies recovered from the barrage and started shooting again. The Schlinal fire was light and uncoordinated now, though. Echo kept moving. Keye did not waste time explaining why. He knew about the incoming Schlinal fleet but had not shared that knowledge with anyone in the company but his executive officer and the first sergeant.

  There was a low rampart of rocks and clay, only a meter high, in front of the Heggie defenders. Numerous gaps had been blown in that by the artillery barrage. The few Heggies who remained on the line were quickly overwhelmed by Echo and, farther along the line, by the other three companies coming in from the airfield.

  "Back behind the wall," Keye ordered as soon as enemy resistance at the line ended. "We've got to wait for the others to get in position."

  Most of the men were already moving behind the slight cover offered by the remains of the Heggie rampart when they came under fire again, this time from right at the edge of the nearest row of buildings inside the enemy base. From the start, this fire was heavier than what Echo had experienced from the outer line, but it still was not coordinated. A flurry of gunfire would come from one section of the Heggie defenses, aimed in the general direction of Echo, but—as often as not—too high or too low.

  "Looks as if they're not certain where we are," Joe whispered to Mort. They were next to each other, speaking with visors up. Behind one of the surviving sections of the outer rampart, they were sheltered from direct fire.

  "Maybe they're not," Mort said. "Those night-vision goggles they use—just infrared, right?"

  Joe nodded.

  "Temperature must still be within a couple of degrees of body temp," Mort said, "at least of what would be apparent through our clothes and gear. Heggies probably aren't seeing too clearly. Broad, fuzzy patches. All they'd have to go on is movement, at least until the moons come out."

  Joe looked at the sky. "Any idea when that'll be?"

  Mort had none.

  Before the two could speculate any further, Joe had a call from Izzy Walker. All of the platoon sergeants were on the link.

  "Sit on this for now," Walker started. "Until the captain or I say different. This info is just for you." That was enough to assure the attention of all of the platoon sergeants. Walker told them about the new Schlinal fleet coming toward Tamkailo. "If our ships can't stop 'em, these new Heggies will be in orbit in less than three hours. They could be down on top of us forty-five minutes later. Before that happens, the general wants us inside this base and the Heggies there out of action."

  "What about the rest of the army coming up from the south?" Joe asked. "They gonna get here in time?"

  "I don't have any idea," Izzy admitted. "We're gonna have to play this as if they won't."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Not even General Dacik had any idea whether or not his units would be able to link up before the new Schlinal forces arrived. The 5th and 8th SATs had established costly bridgeheads north of the canal. Both had managed to expand their perimeters enough to allow some units of the two light infantry regiments to cross. They had taken heavy casualties—and inflicted even heavier casualties on the Schlinal forces trying to hold them back.

  But then the advance ground to a halt.

  "I don't understand it," Colonel Ruman said. "We've always been able to crack a Heggie line when we put enough pressure on them."

  "These Heggies have obviously been told that reinforcements are on the way," Major Olsen said. "'Hold on, help is coming.'" He paused, then added, "'If you don't hold on, you'd better be dead, because there'll be a reckoning afterward.' That's how it would go in their army."

  Dacik nodded. "If what we know about the Heggies is accurate. The people who might give us a different story don't usually end up as prisoners."

  "Still, if we don't break this line pretty soon, we might as well forget it and start worrying about defensive positions to meet the reinforcements," Ruman said. "If we don't do something, we'll be up the creek. We sure as hell don't want Heggies on both sides of us."

  Dacik stared at his mapboard while he thought. The map gave him no clues. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked up.

  "You're right," he said. "We've got to do something in a hurry—concentrate on breaking through at one point instead of trying to force both bridgeheads. Bull through no matter what it costs. We'll leave the 5th to defend the eastern bridgehead and put both LIRs behind the 8th. Well, not quite everything. Leave one battalion of the 34th on the north side of the canal with the 5th. The rest to spread out to cover the rest of the south side of the canal. Use all of our Havocs and Wasps to blast a hole through the Heggies and cover our flanks until the 8th really gets moving."

  "The air is ours now, General," Olsen said. "At least until the Heggies manage to bring in new fighters. If this fleet is carrying any. The last of the Boems that were here are down. The ones we didn't shoot down had to land because of dry batteries, and there are no fresh batteries at the airfield for them. The 13th blew the chargers and drained or destroyed the batteries that were waiting. They've been destroying the fighters that came in as well."

  Dacik nodded slowly. "We'll use the 13th's Wasps to hunt tanks. The rest to cover the breakthrough and provide whatever support we can spare for the 5th. How long will it take to get the 97th in position to cross over behind the 8th?"

  "Their first battalion is already across," Ruman said. "Part of the second, as well. The rest of second is spread out along the south bank, from the bridge west to the sea. Third is about half-and-half. Part is marshaled behind the bridge ready to cross. The rest is along the south bank east of the bridge, over to where they meet the 34th."

  "How long?" Dacik repeated.

  "Could take thirty minutes to get all of second battalion in place to cross the canal. Thirty minutes for third."

  "Get them moving now. And I want them all ready to cross in fifteen minutes," Dacik said.

  Colonel Ruman got busy on the radio.

  —|—

  In the last hour, Dem Nimz had talked with the ranking reccer in each of the 13th's other recon platoons. First and second recon were now led by men who had been squad leaders three days earlier. Fourth recon was being led by a corporal who had only been an assistant squad leader at the start of the Tamkailo campaign. Four recon platoons: their normal complement was 240 officers and men, 60 to a platoon. The total manpower left was 68, scarcely more than a single platoon. And they were scattered.

  They had, at least, all managed to get off of the exposed rooftops. They were inside warehouses and not currently under fire. The Heggies were making no attempt to rout them from their temporary haven
s. But there was no way for the reccers to escape from the middle of the Heggie base.

  "The first thing we have to do now is get together," Dem had told the men leading the other platoons. He ordered the corporal commanding 4th recon to stay put and wait for the rest of them. He told 1st and 2nd to prepare to blow up what they could in the buildings where they were, as 3rd had already done. Blast or burn: the building the 1st platoon was in contained no munitions; the building 2nd was in had some munitions but more of the space was taken up by clothing and other spare gear.

  "I've asked the colonel to set up a diversion for us," Dem said the second time he talked to the noncoms leading the other platoons. He had spoken directly with the colonel, after pleading with Dezo Parks for the help for five minutes first. "The Havocs will drop a short barrage around us, right in the center of the base. At the same time, our line companies will pick up their fire and make another attempt to get in. While all that's going on, we'll set off our three buildings and make for 4th platoon's hideout." After that... Dem hadn't done much thinking past that. Even trying to get the remnants of the platoons together was likely to be an expensive maneuver. There was a real chance that the Heggies might finish off the 13th's recon detachment completely. Dem hoped that they would be able to link up with the line companies soon, if any of the reccers managed to survive this. For one of the few times in his military career, Dem Nimz wanted as many men around as possible. Men who wore the same uniform he did.

  The artillery would be the key. When it started hitting, the reccers would clip their fuses or start their fires and make for the exits closest to the building where 4th platoon was waiting. And hope that the Heggies weren't also waiting for them.

  The wait not only seemed long, it was long. Dem didn't know how much trouble the colonel had had persuading General Dacik to release the 13th's Havocs for even the few minutes they would be needed for the diversion. More than once, Dem started to call the colonel again. Each time, he held back. Stossen had not given him a specific time, just that it would be as soon as possible. Wait! Dem told himself. You're safe for now.