No Remorse, page 32
“Talk to you soon, Ingrid.”
“Later, Mom.”
“And cut.” Montero smiled. “That was kind of cute. A father-daughter act.”
“Spare me the editorial comments. Find Ingrid, will you?”
The spy tossed off a salute. “Aye, aye, sir.”
“Let Colonel Salminen know I need to speak with him later today so we can confirm plans.”
“You intend to land H Troop in Hamar?”
“Of course. Why waste their talents by making them spectators to what will be the shortest government overthrow attempt since the Beer Hall Putsch back in the dark ages?”
“Why indeed? Will do. Was there anything else?”
“No.”
“Hardrada, out.”
Montero’s image faded away, replaced by Sorcerer’s unit crest.
“You seem pretty confident you can stop the Alliance from disrupting tomorrow’s vote and triggering a crisis, Dad.”
Talyn jerked her thumb at Decker. “This guy planned and organized the overthrow of a corrupt colonial administration. If anyone around here can stop someone else from doing the same, it would be your father.”
“It takes a putschist to stop a putschist?” Mischief twinkled in deep blue eyes. “I think I’ll look up which colony underwent an unplanned change of government in recent years.”
“No names, no pack drill, Punkie.”
“With your sort of friends? No kidding.”
“I suggest we take a few hours of rest. You most of all, Zack.”
Decker winked at his daughter. “Better do what Hera says. She’s my commanding officer as well as my friend.”
**
“Let me see if I’m clear on what you’re proposing, Major. You’ll infiltrate your Special Forces troop into Hamar overnight to cover the Hamar Brigade’s barracks, the Scandian Police Authority’s metropolitan station, and the SSIA HQ? That’s a lot for only forty Marines.”
“Thirty-eight, sir. We took two casualties in Vyborg. One fatal.”
Salminen winced in sympathy. “Please pass the Scandia Regiment’s condolences to his comrades.”
“Will do, sir. Thank you. And to answer your question, one team each for the police and SSIA, to observe and if necessary, interdict; and two teams on the barracks, one for recon, and one for direct action. The latter will be our ace in the hole, in case General Brand calls our bluff. I’m counting on your presence to deter any rash action by the junior ranks.”
“You intend to shoot the Guard’s senior people?”
“A few key ones, like Brand, should she make the mistake of riding out at the head of her formation, which is what I expect. Better one political brigadier general dies than forty privates who didn’t ask to be there. Especially if they’re yours.”
“You’re very cold-blooded about this, Major, if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“The offworlders behind this crisis are thoroughly vile people, and it rubs off on those flocking to their cause. Once this is over, I’d suggest that Prime Minister Dahlstein purge the senior ranks of every single Scandian institution, but since I’m just a simple Marine, I doubt he’ll give me the time of day.”
“There’s nothing simple about you, but I don’t disagree with the notion of cleaning up the Guard, the police, and especially the SSIA.” He paused. “I won’t hide the fact that those of us who know this isn’t another training exercise but an actual, unsanctioned deployment, have butterflies in our stomachs.”
“So you’ve decided to act?”
“Yes. If I stood by and watched Scandia go up in flames, I would never forgive myself. A reinforced battle group built around the 1st Battalion will fly out after dark tonight and land in a hide close to Hamar where it will wait for your signal. I will go with them. My cavalry battalion is already on its way to Hamar, split up into small packets, so it doesn’t attract attention. The remaining infantry battalions will deploy at first light tomorrow and contain the National Guard units in Vaasa, Kristiansund, and Manarfell. My second in command will form a quick reaction force from the support battalions to contain the Kollsvik Guard units.”
“That sounds like an eminently practical deployment, sir. Two battalions in Hamar, along with my special operators will suffice.”
Salminen gave him a crooked grin. “I’m glad you approve. Now I have to wait for H Hour with my guts twisted into knots. And not just because of the operation itself, but because of apprehension at how folks in the regiment will react once they realize we’re not playing war games.”
“It would worry me more if you didn’t feel trepidation, Colonel. There’s an old adage among Pathfinders that someone who no longer feels fear before a jump will inevitably make deadly mistakes born of overconfidence.”
“Do you always worry before every jump?”
“I’m like a cat at a dog convention every single time. The same will happen to me between now and when we stand along Mannerheim Boulevard in downtown Hamar, blocking traffic. But just as those butterflies vanish once the green light goes on, they’ll take a powder the moment the barracks gate opens.”
“Glad to hear even men who’ve seen more than their fair share of war still react like those of us with a rather sedate lifestyle.”
“It never gets easier. On the contrary.”
“I hear you. If there’s nothing else, I’d like to spend a bit of time in prayer before we move out.”
“Put in a good word for me, if you would, sir, even though I’m a compulsive sinner, or perhaps precisely because I’m a compulsive sinner. We’ll need every bit of help we can get tomorrow.”
“Of course. Until then. Hardrada, out.”
Decker slumped in his chair, feeling drained even though he managed five hours of sleep after speaking with Garrett. The latter still hadn’t reported back. Salminen could only confirm Montero left the fort earlier in a borrowed aircar, sure he’d found the right villa.
With Spaeth unaccounted for and aware Decker and Talyn were free to strike at will, the Marine worried he might act against Berneiser, and therefore also Ingrid, either by himself, or through his hired guns.
He glanced at the time. QD would be gathering his people for the mission briefing shortly. He had to join them, and not only because tomorrow’s operation was his brainchild.
Stopping the attempted coup might involve an entirely different use of force, legally speaking, from that authorized during a hostage rescue, especially since tomorrow’s intervention was unauthorized. And that meant presenting the rules of engagement personally so that the final responsibility for any directed kills fell on him alone.
Then, he needed to speak with Sorcerer’s supply chief and see if the ship’s fabricator could make him a Marine officer’s black service dress uniform with all the silver trimmings.
— THIRTY-ONE —
Decker found Hamar abuzz with speculation, rumors, and gossip the next morning, all of it tinged with fear. He’d flown from Sorcerer to Fort Lothbrok with H Troop, where disguised aircars from the Scandia Regiment’s 3rd Battalion ferried them to the capital under cover of night.
As per Salminen’s plan, the battalion itself remained in Vaasa to keep an eye on the local Guard unit, made up of part-timers activated for a three day training weekend the previous evening. It was a pattern repeated in other garrison towns across the continent — Guard units unexpectedly called up, not knowing the Scandia Regiment already had them in its sights.
Somewhere to the north, hidden in rough terrain as yet almost entirely untouched by human colonists, Colonel Salminen waited with his battalion group and its gunships. Meanwhile, the cavalry battalion was moving through Hamar’s outskirts via back roads in small, platoon-sized groups, still undetected by the Guard.
The Marine, inconspicuous with his uniform hidden beneath a drab civilian overcoat and his beret tucked in a pocket, strolled along Mannerheim Boulevard. He’d observed the activity around parliament for clues that things were indeed coming to a head.
Though his instincts had missed the mark before, he was convinced a sense of impending doom cloaked that solemn stone building. It was as if the Reform League government knew its time in office would abruptly end that morning but remained determined to play its hand until the final card.
As he neared the Hamar Brigade’s extensive barracks complex, he surreptitiously scanned the surroundings for QD Vinn’s two teams. The Special Forces operators, unlike Zack, wore civilian clothes over light armor and carried their weapons concealed in bags. He spotted no familiar faces and saw no human shapes where they shouldn’t be, but was sure they were tracking him.
On the other hand, Decker knew someone from H Troop was watching the barracks because he heard a steady stream of updates via the audio bug in his right ear. The brigade was mustering its combat cars in columns on the parade ground. Meanwhile, armed soldiers in battledress scurried about, driven by harried noncoms under pressure from officers who didn’t seem to be in full control of the situation.
Decker wasn’t surprised. Few if any of the Guard’s soldiers would know they weren’t actually forming up for a parade practice. They would be even more confused once their quartermaster stores issued ammunition.
A string of police aircars passed overhead as if patrolling the length of Mannerheim Boulevard. And when Decker stopped in front of an information pillar, he saw a clip showing the grim-faced leader of the People’s Alliance, Rollo Ilsberg, leaving the Scandian Governor General’s residence.
The text banner beneath said something about Ilsberg and Governor General Nygaard discussing the government’s legally questionable vote, giving rise to the possibility Nygaard might obtain enough justification in using her reserve powers to dissolve parliament. And it was feared that the government might use unconstitutional means to resist such an order. Even the news feeds on Scandia were in the opposition’s pockets. The Coalition and its minions had prepared the political battlefield with care.
Decker watched a string of official ground cars, surrounded by police units speed up the boulevard. Prime Minister Dahlstein headed for parliament? Or was that Ilsberg, who could already feel his buttocks back in the prime ministerial seat? When a second string passed him minutes later, he figured the main characters in this morality play were about to walk on stage.
There would be an impassioned speech, accusations and then a declaration from Nygaard to be delivered by Brigadier General Ula Brand at her masters’ orders. He checked the time, then raised his hand to scratch the top of his head.
Almost at once a voice in his ear said, “Fuse lit. I repeat, fuse lit.” It confirmed that the trooper detailed to watch Zack saw the hand signal ordering Vinn to call in the Scandia Regiment.
**
“Major Decker just passed the word, Colonel.”
Salminen, aboard a gunship outfitted as a tactical command post, glanced at his regimental sergeant major. The butterflies in his stomach, after plaguing him all night, suddenly vanished.
Gulliksen gave him a nod. The RSM’s eyes held the steely edge of a man convinced they were about to do the right thing, and now that it was upon them, Salminen discovered he shared the feeling.
“Where’s the cavalry battalion?”
“Nearing the parliamentary precinct at this moment, sir,” the command post operator, a career noncom replied. “They’ve not yet been challenged by the Guard or the police.”
Salminen took a deep breath, knowing he stood on the banks of his own Rubicon. However, unlike Julius Caesar on that fateful day almost twenty-six centuries ago, he wanted to save a government, not overthrow it.
He gave his RSM a tight grin. “I believe it’s traditional to declare alea iacta est at a moment such as this.”
Then he switched his radio to the strike group’s command frequency. “Launch.”
Within seconds, the first gunships lifted out the primeval forest north of Hamar and aimed their noses at the nearby capital.
Salminen caught a glimpse of parliament’s tall clock tower in the distance before his flying command post veered to join the other aircraft streaming toward Mannerheim Boulevard, where Scandia’s destiny would be decided.
**
Decker shrugged off the overcoat and folded it neatly into a square which he dropped on a nearby cafe table, then retrieved a sky blue beret from his tunic pocket and placed it on his head. More than one passerby threw him a puzzled glance, wondering why a Commonwealth Marine Corps major in silver-trimmed black dress uniform suddenly appeared in their midst.
If they recognized the uniform at all. It was a given that few could identify the insignia of the 9th Marine Regiment Decker wore on his collar tabs and headdress, or know the jump wings with combat stars marked him as a veteran of frontier skirmishes. The holstered Shrehari blaster at his hip drew more attention than anything else.
“The guppies have just drawn ammo and are loading up.” Decker repressed a smile at the watcher’s use of the pejorative for National Guard soldiers. “The head guppy’s climbing aboard a command car.”
He’d been right. Brigadier General Brand would lead her brigade from the head of the column, expecting to share in the greater glory of executing the governor general’s orders in person. The fact it would make the Guard even less popular among Scandian citizens who voted for the Reform League likely didn’t bother her. With the Alliance in power again, who could tell how far her career might go?
“Hakkapeliitta Air inbound. Hakkapeliitta Land approaching the target.” Not the most imaginative code name for Colonel Salminen’s strike groups, but the Scandian picked it for sentimental reasons. Decker wasn’t about to deprive him of that pleasure. Not after he’d put his career on the line to save his native world from a potential civil war.
Decker raised his hand in acknowledgment. The airmobile battalion would arrive within minutes.
“I see movement at the cop shop,” a new voice said. “It looks like every car they own is heading out on patrol.”
The Scandian Police Authority getting into place ahead of expected trouble once Dahlstein and his cabinet were overthrown? Mannerheim Boulevard seemed eerily quiet all of a sudden as if the city was holding its breath. Decker looked left and right, then crossed the four lanes to where a short, tree-lined road leading from the barracks’ main gate met it.
“The head guppy’s car is at the front of the assemblage. She’s standing in the turret, like the other crew commanders.” They clearly weren’t expecting any opposition, let alone be shot at. Otherwise, they wouldn’t stick their heads out. That arrogance played to Decker’s advantage.
“Target acquired.” A fresh voice, belonging to Vinn’s best sniper, joined the troop push.
The barracks’ main gate opened, and General Brand’s car came through at the speed of a walking man. Decker, to the sound of an aviation battalion’s worth of gunships coming in from the north, behind him, stepped into the middle of the road. He assumed a parade rest position, legs apart, hands joined in the small of his back. The combat car’s driver, nonplussed by a Marine barring his way, came to a halt.
Brand stared at Decker in puzzlement, then asked, in a querulous tone, “What is the meaning of this impertinence?”
“You’ll be doing your parade practice a little later than expected, General. Right now the Commonwealth Armed Services claim precedence.”
“What? Are you off your gourd, Marine? What’s your name and unit?”
“Major Zachary Thomas Decker, 9th Marine Regiment.”
“You’re not only far from your garrison, but you also have no business here. Now step aside before I run you over.”
“I think not. The Commonwealth Army has priority.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder and was pleased to see Brand’s eyes widen. Though Decker had his back turned, his ears told him the gunships were landing in an orderly line on Mannerheim Boulevard to disgorge a highly disciplined battalion of armored and armed soldiers. Troops equipped with ordnance capable of turning the Hamar Brigade’s combat cars into scrap metal.
“This is unwarranted offworld interference in the affairs of a sovereign star system.” Brand’s voice rose to an outraged shout.
A smile spread on Decker’s face. Gotcha! “I think we’re well beyond protestations of virginity.”
Brand’s face froze. “What do you mean, Major?” The way she pronounced Zack’s rank made it sound like the name of a particularly virulent disease.
“What I mean is we’ll let the Scandian parliament hold its vote this morning with no impediments. Whatever orders you received from parties who are not legally entitled to issue them are nullified by my friends blocking your way.”
“You wouldn’t dare open fire on the National Guard.” Her eyes showed the first hints of uncertainty.
“Look at your chest.” The red dot of a laser range-finder rested precisely over her heart, courtesy of the H Troop sniper hidden away on a distant rooftop overlooking the barracks gate. “You will stand down and wait for orders from the Scandian Minister of Public Safety, your legal boss.”
“Or what?”
“Or I’ll resume this conversation with your second in command, and if he isn’t inclined to see reason either, whoever is in charge after that.”
“You’d murder an officer belonging to a Commonwealth star system defense force?”
“If the officer in question was about to trigger a coup d’état that would precipitate civil unrest causing hundreds, if not thousands of civilian casualties? In a nanosecond. Those Army troops behind me aren’t armored and carrying live ammunition for fun, General.”
Hera Talyn’s voice suddenly filled his right ear.
“You’ve made the news, Rookie Trooper. There’s a camera drone somewhere in your vicinity. Right now, they don’t know what’s happening but whoever opens fire first will be immortalized. Try to make sure it’s not our people.” A pause. “The ground element of the Hakkapeliitta has reached parliament and is deploying. They’ve exchanged a few harsh words with the police, but are in control.”
“You’re insane, Major. And somehow you’ve infected an honorable unit like the Scandia Regiment with your madness. They won’t open fire on us. We’re fellow Scandians. Now step aside before I order you be shot.”
