Favour the Bold, page 38
part #16 of The Empire's Corps Series
It felt like hours of loping down the road, steadily overrunning and capturing small numbers of enemy stragglers, before Haverford finally came into view. It was the largest city on the planet, sprawling out alongside a river that split into two slightly above the city. Haydn was surprised they hadn’t built the city closer to the coast, although he had a feeling the local terrain was prone to flooding. He thought he recognised the signs. Indeed, the drones reported that the terrain to the west of Haverford was almost completely uninhabited. It didn’t look to be good farming land. It wouldn’t start filling up until the remainder of the planet was populated.
He frowned as he surveyed the city. It was more spread out than Bouchon, presenting multiple possible angles of attack ... but it was teeming with people. Smoke rose from a dozen fires, defying the best attempts to fight them ... if anyone was trying to fight them. The roads were blocked by barricades and armoured vehicles, his sensors picked out a dozen active sensor nodes sweeping the surrounding airspace for potential threats. No drone had survived more than a few seconds when they’d tried to overfly the city. No doubt the sensors had some pretty heavy firepower backing them up.
Mayberry came up beside him as the armoured company slowed to a halt and began to spread out. “Orders, sir?”
“Surround the city, cut off all routes in and out,” Haydn said, shortly. The follow-up companies would be joining them shortly, ready to ford the river and cut the city off from the west. A river wasn’t much of a barrier to men in armoured suits. “And then ready ourselves for the final offensive.”
He shuddered. On one hand, the city’s defences looked pretty feeble. They wouldn’t stand up to a good solid kick, still less an offensive spearheaded by armoured troopers and heavy tanks. But, on the other hand, hundreds of thousands of civilians were going to be caught in the crossfire and killed. The files claimed that over fifty thousand people lived within the city. Haydn suspected the real number was much higher. The refugees alone would make life difficult for the local government. He was surprised they hadn’t tried to send the refugees away.
An alert flashed up in his HUD. Snipers within the city were trying to engage the follow-up units as they crossed the river. The marines were returning fire, although they were reluctant to use their heavier weapons for fear of causing civilian casualties. Haydn shuddered, again. That wouldn’t last. No commanding officer wanted to tell grieving relatives their children were dead because he’d gone lightly on the enemy. Now, there were no interfering politicians to impose rules of engagement that put troops at risk and made casualties so much higher. Now ...
His communicator bleeped. “Situation, Captain?”
“We’re encircling the city now,” Haydn said. General Anderson knew it as well as he did. He would be following the marines from his command vehicle. “We’ll have them cut off by the end of the day.”
“Yeah.” General Anderson sounded tired. “And then ... can we proceed?”
Haydn nodded, slowly. He was the one on the scene. General Anderson expected him to grasp, truly grasp, the reality the maps and holographic displays didn’t show. It was astonishing how something that looked tiny on the map could delay an entire offensive in the real world ... he put the thought aside as he leaned forward, studying what little he could see of the enemy position. One good solid blow might shatter their defences beyond repair.
“I think so, sir,” he said. “We know the way to the enemy bunker.”
“Then start making your preparations now,” General Anderson ordered. “We move at dawn.”
“Yes, sir,” Haydn said.
***
“We have lost control of the streets,” Heather said, flatly.
Simon looked up. He hadn’t slept well, not since the first riots had turned into orgies of mass destruction. He’d ordered police and troops to be deputized from the various security and maintenance units, but they weren’t trained for crowd control ... he cursed under his breath, wondering just how long it would be until one of his subordinates put a knife in his back. The only thing protecting him was the simple truth, he supposed, that whoever took his place would have to deal with the mess in front of him ...
He rubbed his forehead. “Just how bad is it?”
“Southside and Westside are more or less completely out of our control,” Heather said, grimly. “We have control of the bridges, but little else. Everywhere else ... we’re barely holding on. We have troops on the streets of Eastside, with orders to kill anyone who steps out of line ... so far, that seems to be working. But it won’t last.”
“And the enemy is surrounding the city.” General Atherton looked worse than Heather. He looked like a man who hadn’t slept for days. “Right now, Your Excellency, we can’t open a single road to the west. It won’t be long before we can’t get out of the city at all.”
Simon felt a hot flash of anger. “I thought you said you could keep the roads open!”
“The units I intended to do it did not survive contact with the enemy.” General Atherton sighed, heavily. “Those that didn’t get clobbered split up and went underground. They may pose a threat to the enemy, if the relief fleet doesn’t get here in time, but ... right now, they’re no use to us. I have officers attempting to regroup ... frankly, Your Excellency, our army was never designed for a long-term campaign in our heartland. It’s breaking under the strain.”
“Fuck.” Simon looked down at his hands. “Can we hold Eastside?”
“We can limit their advantages,” General Atherton said. “If they attack, we can hurt them. But we might not be able to keep them out of the city.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Heather shook her head. “They’re surrounded the city. They can just starve us into submission.”
“They’ll be starving the rioters as well,” Simon pointed out. “Hell, they’ll be starving within days anyway.”
“Yes,” Heather said. “And that’s when they’ll force the bridges and pour into Eastside.”
“Where there isn’t much food to be found anyway,” Simon said. The planners had decided there was no point in keeping the algae farms operational, once the real farms had been solidly established. They’d been right, until the city had been cut off from the farms. Now ... he wished they’d kept the damn things online. “What do we do?”
“We can surrender,” General Atherton pointed out. “Or we can hold out and hope for the best.”
“And start planning to leave the city ourselves,” Heather put in. “Right now, we have to keep the government intact.”
And I bet you’d want to leave first, Simon thought. He didn’t really blame her, particularly if she succeeded him after the enemy put a bullet through his head. She’d be able to blame everything on him. Head Office would probably give her a promotion. And I can’t allow that to happen.
“I’ll start working on a plan,” he said. “For the moment” - he took a breath - “for the moment, concentrate on holding Eastside. Blow up the bridges if you have to. Set traps for the enemy, if they try to breach the walls.”
Heather snorted. “What walls?”
Simon ignored her. “And hope the relief fleet gets here in time. Good luck.”
He watched their images vanished, then sat back in his chair with a sigh. The hell of it was that he knew he should surrender. Now he knew who they were facing ... he shook his head. If he thought the marines would win the overall conflict, he would have surrendered himself - and the entire planet - without a second thought. But the marines had jumped headlong into a fusion core. They had no conception of just how badly they’d screwed up. Simon knew. He was one of the few people who did know just how much planning Head Office had made for Earthfall. And the marines were grossly outmatched.
They might have been planning too, he thought, but there’s no way they could have matched the corporation.
He tapped his intercom. When Sandra appeared, he sent her to find Colonel Macintyre. It was time to start planning for the worst. Hundreds of thousands of people were about to die ... he felt a twinge of conscience, mingled with the grim awareness that his family stood hostage for his behaviour. He would sooner sacrifice thousands of people he didn’t know than let his family be executed or simply dumped on a penal world for his failure. The idealism of his youth had long since been rejected in favour of cold practicality.
And if that makes me a monster, he thought coldly, then that’s exactly what I am.
***
Derek had spent the morning trying to find out everything he could about the bunker - and about what was happening outside. The former was easy - everyone seemed to assume that everyone inside the bunker had a perfect right to be there - but the latter was surprisingly difficult. What little information there was appeared to be heavily restricted, with only senior officers having unimpeded access to the datanet. There were rumours, of course, but most were so wild that Derek found them impossible to believe. The entire planet could not have been scorched if senior officers were coming and going all the time.
Although it might as well have been, he mused. What does the colonel want us to do?
He sighed, inwardly. Colonel Macintyre had spent a surprising amount of time simply talking to him, trying to win his ... his what? It was clear that Colonel Macintyre was either very well connected or a braggart, and the simple fact they’d been allowed into the bunker suggested the former. But his behaviour was odd. The colonel had gone out of his way to promise Derek all sorts of rewards, from higher rank to a farm and an estate of his own, without actually bothering to tell Derek what he wanted in exchange. It was almost as if he was being courted ...
Derek curtailed that thought, rapidly, as Colonel Macintyre peered into the barracks. “Derek,” he said. “Come with me.”
“Yes, sir.” Derek grabbed his rifle, slung it over his shoulder and followed Colonel Macintyre into the corridor. “Where are we going?”
The colonel gave him a sharp look, but said nothing. A woman stood outside, wearing a perfectly-tailored suit that covered everything below her neckline and yet managed to reveal all of her curves. She was so beautiful that she was oddly inhuman, as if she wasn’t quite real. Derek felt weirdly ashamed of himself for staring at her rear as she led them down the corridor. She was just so perfect, like a higher being brought down to the mundane world. Jenny wasn’t so stunning, but she was real. The lack of imperfection was itself an imperfection.
He schooled his face into a blank mask as they stepped into an underground office. It was surprisingly home-like, for a bunker. Derek felt a stab of bitterness as he surveyed the chamber. The man behind the desk, the man rising to greet them ... Derek felt his head spin as he recognised the governor. He’d visited Eddisford ... God! It felt like years had passed since he’d been a carefree soldier, looking forward to demobilisation. Loomis had been alive, they’d been equals ... laughing and joking together. He had to bit his lip to keep his temper under control. They were being watched. If the security troopers had the slightest doubt of his loyalty, they’d order him removed at once.
“Governor,” Colonel Macintyre said. There was something in his voice that suggested a greater degree of familiarity than Derek would have expected. “You sent for me?”
“The city will fall shortly.” The governor seemed to sag back into his chair. It was an odd display of weakness, one that suggested he trusted the colonel completely. “Either the starving rioters will tear us apart or the enemy will kick down the door and take us. We have to plan to leave before all hell breaks loose.”
Rats leaving the sinking ship. Derek gritted his teeth. It would be so easy to draw his rifle and shoot the bastard, but ... he knew it would be a mistake. Now, at least. You’re planning to leave everyone else in the shit.
“Of course, Your Excellency,” Colonel Macintyre said, easily. “When do you intend to leave?”
They talked for quite some time. Derek listened, carefully memorising everything they said while studying the map behind the governor. Haverford was in deep trouble. The enemy had cut them off from the rest of the planet, while half the city was effectively outside their control. Eastside alone could be held, and that wouldn’t last. The troops needed to keep the city under control and keep out the enemy simply didn’t exist.
And the defences don’t look that strong either, he mused. If the enemy took Bouchon, they can take Haverford.
“It will be done, Your Excellency,” Colonel Macintyre said. “We can leave when the city is on the brink of collapse.”
“Very good,” the governor said. “Be ready.”
“We will.” Colonel Macintyre looked at Derek. “Won’t we?”
“Yes, sir,” Derek said.
***
The two policemen were on edge, their hands on their weapons at all times. It didn’t help them. Rachel moved up behind one of them, so silently that he didn’t know she was there until she stabbed her knife through his neck. The other barely had a moment to open his mouth before Perkins got him. He tumbled to the ground, taking the knife with him. Rachel smiled grimly as she dragged her victim into the shadows and started to strip him. The uniform wouldn’t fit her very well, but it was unlikely anyone would notice. Half the men on the streets looked to have been outfitted by tailors who were blind, mad or both.
Her lips quirked. Which makes them more efficient than the quartermasters on Han ...
She put the thought to one side as she donned the trousers and jacket, silently thanking her parents - and marine medics - that her breasts weren’t too big. A little fiddling ensured that the jacket merely looked ill-fitting, as if it had been sewn for someone a little larger and fatter. She could pass for a man for quite some time, provided she kept her voice low and didn’t undress. She’d done it before.
“You look very intimidating,” Perkins said, as he dressed himself. “That look of sneering disdain really sells it.”
“Hah. Hah.” Rachel snorted and checked him, making sure he looked presentable. Knowing their luck, they’d run into a police sergeant who’d give them a bollocking for poor presentation. Or something. “We’d better move.”
She forced herself to walk in the open, even though all her training argued it was better to stay in the shadows, as they made their way through Eastside. The eastern part of the city was under lockdown, troops and police on the streets chasing anyone they saw breaking curfew without a valid permit. But they wouldn’t pay any attention to two more policemen, even if they didn’t recognise them. The government had recalled so many former officers - and drafted anyone who was willing to fight - that she doubted anyone had a complete list of who was meant to be in uniform. No one would notice two additions to the list ...
At least until they find the bodies, she thought. And then ... if they realise what we’ve done, they’ll grow even more paranoid.
She glanced into the darkening sky. It was obvious the main offensive would begin sooner, rather than later. General Anderson couldn’t wait for the city to starve. He had to take it, and the enemy bunker, quickly. And when the assault began ...
We’ll be waiting, Rachel thought. They’d already scouted City Hall, making a note of the local defences. And we’ll strike.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
These questions would not be answered in a hurry.
- Professor Leo Caesius. Earthfall and its Aftermath.
Dawn broke like a thunderclap.
Haydn braced himself as the suit came online, flickering icons appearing in the display and then fading as the suit readied itself for combat. He yawned, despite himself. The night had been quiet - the enemy hadn’t tried to mount any spoiling attacks - but he hadn’t managed to catch much sleep. The prospect of combat had kept him awake.
Sergeant Mayberry called the company to order as Haydn checked the link to the assault force. The flankers would be mounting a handful of light attacks along the enemy defences, more to keep the enemy on their toes than in hopes of actually making a real breakthrough, but the real attack would go straight down the motorway and into the city. He had no doubt the enemy would recognise what they were doing almost as soon as the attack began. There was no point in trying to hide it. They’d be charging at City Hall, ignoring hundreds of other possible targets. The enemy would do everything in their power to stop them.
“All present and correct, sir,” Mayberry said, as if there’d been any doubt. A couple of marines had been lightly wounded, but they’d remained in the battle line. The thought of leaving their mates to sink or swim on their own was horrific. They’d sooner die than abandon their comrades. “We’re ready.”
Haydn nodded, feeling a flicker of excitement mingled with the grim certainty that a great many people were going to die. It had been a long time since the marine corps had mounted such an offensive, outside exercises and drills that never quite captured the reality of mobile war. He’d already started cataloguing all the lessons they’d learnt - re-learnt, really - from the campaign. The fighting would be studied for years as the corps - and everyone else - sought to understand the reality behind the story. He had no doubt quite a few officers were going to be embarrassed, but it didn’t matter. They had to learn from their mistakes.
