Hearts of Chaos

by Victor Milán

  Cassie's strike team was leapfrogging down a corridor on the third floor, where the wounded Drac soldier had told them the Camp Mariposa survivors were being held, when Cowboy's warning, rebroadcast all over Port Howard and surroundings by the fusion-power transmitter in Gabby Camacho's Shad, came through her headset.

  Crouched in the lead, against the left-hand wall, Cassie glanced back. Badlands met her eye and shrugged. The strikers themselves were maintaining radio silence, but there was no need to speak. They all knew the enemy was alerted now.

  As Cassie covered, Badlands swung wide of her and dashed toward a place where the hall widened into a waiting lounge.

  And at that moment Wolf Girl stepped directly out in front of him and blasted him with her machine pistol.

  28

  Port Howard

  Aquilonia Province, Towne

  Draconis March, Federated Commonwealth

  23 April 3058

  When Cowboy Payson raised his alarm a lot of different machines were kicked into action.

  Flights of long-range missiles hissed over folds in the terrain to explode among the dug-in Towne Guards and First Dragon's Joy infantrymen—the troops with the most volatile morale. Foot soldiers made up the bulk of the perimeter defense, but the missiles' targeting wasn't fortuitous. Contemptuous of the Townians, Drac commanders had deployed without sufficient concern for what they would have called "Yellow Birds"—their name for possibly hostile indigenes. The Caballeros had received detailed intelligence on their enemies' dispositions, not infrequently from rural dwellers with mobile telephones.

  From the cockpit of his Mad Cat, Don Carlos addressed the forces he was leading,to the attack from the east, Second Battalion augmented by the remnants of First that hadn't gone in with the blimp.

  "Caballeros y Caballeros, my prayers go with you all. But I attack without thought for victory or defeat I think only of killing our enemies, until we have saved our children, or found shelter at the feet of the Blessed Virgin."

  A many-voiced howl of undiluted rage answered him. Followed by a few lances of Fusilier survivors in tanks that had been stationed outside Port Howard at the time of the invasion and several hundred Popular Militia volunteers in a jumble of civilian vehicles, the Seventeenth attacked.

  * * *

  Tai-i Taisuke Toyama was trying to purge his spirit of resentment against Tai-sho Kusunoki. Such emotion was unworthy of a warrior. But the occupation force commander made no attempt to be discreet in giving preferential treatment to his DCMS regulars at every opportunity.

  The High Command was anticipating that the mercenaries would attack Port Howard, with the heaviest thrust most likely coming from the direction of the Gunderlands, where the money-troopers had forged such a redoubtable stronghold. The General planned to meet and destroy his foe on the outskirts of town. That was the whole point of the DropShip attack on the mercenary hideout in the Eiglophians, and the subsequent televised execution of the gaijin woman who had commanded the camp: to force the mercenaries, at last to fight.

  The decision—and the glory—would be won today on the perimeter defenses: that was the Plan. And here Toyama's company was relegated to patrol duty around the Admin Center in downtown Port Howard, far from the likely scene of action. As outnumbered as the mercenaries were by well-equipped troops well-sited for defense, the young captain dismissed out of hand the likelihood of their ever making it this far.

  Then came the bland advisory from battalion HQ that a Fifteenth Dieron Regular security 'Mech had reported unauthorized personnel observed around the captured BattleMechs standing in the TTC—followed almost at once by the excited voice of the Mech Warrior himself, breaking onto the emergency channel to announce that he was under fire from enemy 'Mechs.

  Despite the background clamor that made it apparent a brother buso-senshi was fighting for his life, young Toyama grinned. He didn't know how the gaijin had done it, but somehow the resourceful devils had gotten in among the Tai-sho's trophies like hexwolves among a flock of sheep. There was glory to be won in Port Howard's alien heart, after all.

  He keyed up his company command channel. "All Toyama Company elements will concentrate at once on the Turanian Transport yards. Stay awake, people—we have enemy on the loose."

  * * *

  Various resistance elements in and around Port Howard, already on alert, likewise heard Cowboy's message.

  Preparations for the master plan had never been completed. The Port Howard militias had been eviscerated by Wolf Girl's treachery—but the survivors were smart and sneaky, and the excesses of the occupation forces and Howard Blaylock in particular had provided huge numbers of people with strong motivation to resist the government. The Popular Militia was bigger and more efficient than ever before.

  Some militia leaders, fearing the mercenaries were, jumping the gun, held their forces out of the upcoming action. Some strike elements missed the call. Some were delayed, others betrayed, some went to the wrong places, and a lot were unable to carry out their preplanned strikes because of the innate perversity of events.

  But one key strike came off. A van loaded with two metric tons of improvised explosives detonated right under the overpass where Highway 1 crossed Route 55. The blast dropped the upper span, killing a dozen hapless early-morning motorists and blocking the main access between the city's heart and the defensive perimeter.

  * * *

  Though Tai-sho Kusunoki disdained them, the yakuza Mech Warriors of Tai-i Harper's company of the First Spirit of the Dragon did a better job of securing their rides than did their comrades at the Dunsany complex to the east. They had ringed their bivouac at Tower of the Elephant Elementary School in northern Port Howard with three-meter fences topped with coils of razor tape, set armed patrols walking the inside of it, and put sandbagged machine-gun guard emplacements on top of the school cafeteria.

  Their security was so tight that the mixed Caballero/ militia team that was targeting them could not figure a quiet way to get in. All that won the Black Dragon troopies was a respite.

  When he heard his buddy's call that the Dracs had discovered the penetration of the TTC yards, Buck Evans turned his truck, put the pedal to the metal, and simply smashed through the wire. Militia troops set up their own machine guns and slaughtered the Dragon Mech Warriors as they spilled out of the school buildings where they were billeted. When the rooftop machine guns fired back, Buck and a former female jump-trooper from Stygia silenced them with shoulder-fired SRM launchers.

  Among the 'Mechs standing here was Buck's old Orion. He and his buddy were fulfilling the roadside promise they had made to Cassie, almost four months ago.

  * * *

  Cassie winced, wondering if one of the militia soldiers would shoot her in the back. Amazingly, only those commandos along the right-hand wall fired, just as the book said.

  It was useless, and Cassie didn't even try. Without apparent hurry Wolf Girl stepped back around the brick-faced corner, leaving Badlands Powell to lie bleeding on his back. Cassie turned her aim to the right wall, where, as anticipated, a high/low pair of green-uniformed PPs came around the pillar. She blasted them before they got off a shot.

  Two commandos passed her, Zoneout Sedillo and a militiawoman with wiry blonde curls and a broken nose. "No!" she yelled at them, but they kept on, moving as professionally as if they had done this together all their lives. Sedillo dove, his skid on elbows and belly perfectly estimated so that he came to rest with only his Shimatsu, one forearm, and one eye exposed around the brick-faced structural column. The woman stayed upright, dancing sideways with her SMG's butt snugged into her shoulder.

  It did them no good. The back of Zoneout's skull blew out to the first bullet of a protracted burst that climbed up and across the blonde woman's torso. She spun, fell, rolled over twice, came to rest unmoving on her face. A dark stain spread out around her on the maroon-veined marble sheeting of the floor.

  Having written them off already, Cassie was taking her own remedial actio
n. Letting her Shimatsu hang on its sling, she reached behind the small of her back with her left hand and pulled her 9 mm autopistol from its quick-draw sheath on her right thigh. At the same time she plucked a tear gas grenade from her ripstop vest. She yanked out the arming-ring with her teeth, which would have given regimental armorer Stacks Stachiew-ski fits.

  She tossed the grenade into the right-hand lounge area. It went off with a pop and a hiss and a cloud of dense white smoke. As soon as she heard coughing she sprang to the left-hand pillar, stuck the machine pistol around the corner, and let the whole magazine go in a long blind burst.

  At the same time she had laid her left arm in the crook of her right elbow and squeezed aimed shots into the half-dozen figures doubling up in the lounge to the right. She hit at least three before the others threw away their weapons and dropped retching and weeping to the floor.

  Stuffing the nine into her web belt, she dropped the magazine from the Shimatsu's well and slammed home a fresh one. As she did that, she backed five meters down the hall.

  She barely avoided tripping over Sergeant Dix, lying prone on the floor. He looked up at her with eyes wide. "Who is that bitch? She nailed Zoneout and that Holger woman like she knew where they was going to be."

  "She did. Now get people to toss some flash-bangs and tear gas down there. Oh—and lend me your Shimmie."

  He stared at her, then handed the weapon over and drew his FWL service 12. An MP in either hand, she dodged to the right-hand wall. Dix signaled that the grenades were ready.

  At her signal seven canisters arced into the lounge area to clatter on the marble. The flash-bangs went off with four ear-shattering cracks and flashes bright enough tomomentarily dazzle anybody who happened to be looking toward them. The three gas bombs vomited smoke.

  Cassie started sprinting with her eyes closed to avoid being blinded by the stun bombs. When they went off she opened her eyes and directed a stream of bullets from her right-hand Shimatsu against the far wall of the lounge area to the left.

  Bullets fired against a hard surface at less than a 45-degree angle will rebound to fly parallel to the surface. Fired at a steeper and rapidly changing angle, Cassie's burst sprayed the inside of the left-hand lounge with random ricochets. Just shy of the pillar she launched herself in a long low dive. Twisting her body she landed on her right side and slid along the floor, blazing away until the machine pistol in her left hand gave out.

  Wolf Girl was ducking through a swinging door that gave onto a catwalk overlooking the interior courtyard. The tinted floor-to-ceiling vitryl windows shimmered and boomed to the impacts of Cassie's fire, but the bullet-proofing held.

  From farther down the corridor came a loud rattle of full-auto fire. Commandos tumbled into the cover of the lounge area. As they returned fire Cassie rolled to her feet. Letting her right-hand weapon hang, she hit the door with her left shoulder and blew out firing.

  Wolf Girl was waiting for her. She opened up as Cassie appeared. Without stopping, Cassie used her training in the demanding and highly gymnastic madi-silat style. She hit the guard-rail with her left hip, let momentum roll her over it, catching an upright with her right hand. She fell to the extension of her arm, poked Dix's Shimatsu between the uprights, and fired.

  Wolf Girl jerked open a door at her side and dove within.

  * * *

  Tai-sho Jeffrey Kusunoki nodded with visible satisfaction as reports of enemy 'Mechs attacking the defensive lines from the east spilled from the radio in his living quarters and command center on the top floor of the Admin complex, hard on the heels of word of the LRM bombardment.

  "Just as I suspected," he declared to his listeners, who included Blaylock and Mr. Kimura and well as his standard retinue. "The attack on the TTC yards is merely a feint, of small consequence. The real assault is here." He stabbed a wall-sized map display of the city with a collapsible pointer—he was a tactile type, who found the red dot of a laser pointer unsatisfying—on the eastern perimeter.

  "And here." He stabbed to the south. As if on cue, his forces dug in near the starport reported that they were coming under 'Mech-weapons fire.

  A foot soldier in helmet and armored jersey burst through the door. Kusunoki turned to scowl at him. Several of his retainers made as if to pitch the intruder out.

  "Tai-sho," the man gasped. "We have reports of shots fired inside the building."

  "Perhaps the situation is not so clear-cut as it at first appeared," murmured Mr. Kimura.

  "It's nothing," Blaylock rapped out, his words like knuckles on hardwood. "My people will stop them. And even if they get to the captives, that's not going to do them much good. The guards there have orders to machine-gun the bastards at the first sign of trouble."

  Kusunoki regarded him with splendid head tipped slightly back. "Perhaps you should go and supervise their efforts personally, Blaylock-san," he said, "since your head rides on their success."

  Blaylock's dark eyes blazed with momentary fury. Then he laughed. "Fair enough," he said. "I'm gone."

  * * *

  Dug-in or not, the Drac ground troops gave way quickly to the mercenary thrust from the east. Sho-sa Maung, commanding the First Battalion of the Devotion Through Combat regiment, personally led a company of BattleMechs to the counterattack.

  Slamming the tops of the rolling hills, a squadron of Ruedel ground-attack craft appeared. High above, out of range of the Drac 'Mechs' weapons, a squadron of Voss fighters flew combat air patrol.

  The lead Ruedel made straight for the Sho-sa's big Mauler. The aircraft climbed slightly, then nosed into a shallow dive straight at the 90-ton 'Mech.

  Though several of his subordinates opened fire on the aircraft, Maung ignored it. Those coddled Desolation Angels might soil their cooling shorts at the sight of the Ranger aircraft, but to a real warrior, they were no more than contemptible toys.

  Unfortunately, the thousand-kilogram bomb that dropped from the Ruedel's centerline was anything but a toy. As neatly as if the Mauler were a stationary watertower at the Ranger airfield in Gunderland, the bomb struck it where the base of its head almost met the base of the 15-missile Shigunga LRM rack on its left shoulder.

  The missile reload storage bins were cellular. It probably didn't matter. The BattleMech simply vanished from the armpits up in a single white flash. The two large-laser arms fell into the snow by its broad feet as it stopped and stood, rocking and erupting.

  A Rifleman shattered the Ruedel with its arm-mounted large lasers and autocannon less than two seconds after the bomb decapitated the Major's Mauler. Striding forward with the full speed imparted by its Clan-built engine and myomer muscles, Colonel Camacho's Great White bathed the Rifleman in charged-particle death from its two arm-carried PPCs. The RFL-3N tried to traverse its torso to bring its weapons to bear on the land-borne threat. But the side armor first flowed and then sublimated beneath the Mad Cat's, PPC lightnings.

  As he closed, Don Carlos fired a six-rocket volley from his right-shoulder Streak launcher. Two of the missiles found the gaping crater gouged in the Rifleman's side and detonated its stored autocannon ammunition. The RFL-3N's torso came apart like a watermelon dropped on a sidewalk from twelve stories up.

  Strange trilled screams and wolf-howls blared from the external loudspeakers mounted on the gaijin 'Mechs. Slashed from the ground and shattered from the sky, the DCMS Mech Warriors faltered. Then they either died, or fled.

  * * *

  This time Cassie had bulletproof vitryl between her and her quarry. She made use of it, walking openly up and peering through the window-wall.

  This was an office space, with computer workstations and a couple of cubicles set against the partition to the left. It was devoid of visible occupants. Cassie scrutinized the area carefully. There were many places Wolf Girl could be, but she saw no sign of her.

  She didn't expect to.

  She moved to the door, whipped it open, lunged for the nearest desk to her right, rolled over the top and went over the far side in
an avalanche of loose paper and knickknacks, barely avoiding the swivel chair. She hit the floor with Dix's MP in her hands, her eyes scanning all along the floor for feet.

  There—boots, seven meters or so away, behind the desk next to the first cubicle. She aimed, squeezed the trigger. The Shimatsu jumped and yammered.

  The feet disappeared upward. Gunfire erupted. Bullets began to punch through the thin-gauge metal of the desk millimeters above Cassie's prone body.

  Cassie made herself flatter than even she thought was possible. Somehow the bullets passed harmlessly overhead. When they stopped, she came up to all fours, forward-rolled to the next desk, lunged to the one after, came up to one knee as jacketed slugs ripped through the desk she had passed behind.

  Wolf Girl had flung herself on top of the desk she had been hiding behind. As Cassie opened fire on her she rolled to the side, off the desktop onto the thin gray-carpeted floor.

  In an intuition-flash Cassie realized that when her enemy landed she would shoot right through Cassie's desk—which was concealment but not much cover— and nail her. Unwilling to make the trade, she gave off trying to walk her fire into Wolf Girl. Instead she jumped up onto her desk as Wolf Girl opened up, then ran and jumped to the desk she had just come from. That took her momentarily out of Wolf Girl's field of fire. Spraying one-handed, more to keep her enemy occupied than with any hope of hitting, she jumped down into the aisle and flung herself on the other side of the desk to Wolf Girl's right.

  The Shimatsu was dry. Her slung weapon was trapped between her back and the desk; she drew her nine from her belt. She took a deep breath, then stood up, turning and extending the gun across the desk.

  She half-expected Wolf Girl to be coming up at the same time, as had happened back at the lodge. Instead, the bigger woman sprang into sight and knocked the autopistol spinning from Cassie's hands with a jumping crescent kick.

  Cassie put her shoulder down, rolled across the desktop, and kicked Wolf Girl in the belly as she came back down.