Intrepid

36

Cortez scowled. He'd watched that loving tableau of battlefield mercy through his binoculars. A moment earlier he'd watched as half a Guard platoon had been wiped out by hidden fire. Thus ended Cortez's planned envelopment of what he'd mistaken as a limited position.

''This is not a small force,'' Cortez muttered to himself.

''It must be at least battalion size,'' Major Zhukov said. ''Maybe bigger.''

''But how many of them are those damn Marines?'' Cortez asked, chewing his lower lip.

''If we can trust this scandal mag,'' Captain Sawyer said, unfolding the cheap newspaper he'd confiscated from a trooper, ''all the Longknife girl has is what's left of an embassy Marine company that she didn't get killed in her last escapade.''

''She's had time to return to Wardhaven, to be reinforced,'' Zhukov pointed out.

''Enough!'' Cortez snapped. ''We're here to boot her out. Quit talking and start booting. She's spread shooters wide to cover this whole front. She can't be strong everywhere. And if most of her firepower is these damn farmers, I'll bet you my eagles she can't get them to move an Earth inch under fire.''

Cortez gauged the reaction of his subordinates. Sawyer's face was a wolf's grin. And a hungry one at that. Zhukov's eyes had narrowed. He was holding his judgment. A good XO.

''Sawyer, your company is nearly full strength. Take it wide around the swamp side. Stay low on the far side of the farthest-out dike. Zhukov, send along a squad of the Guard.''

''It will be done, sir,'' Zhukov said, sprouting a tiger grin.

''You there,'' Cortez said, signaling to the youngest captain from the psalm singers. ''Take what's left of your company and climb those hills on our right. I want you to set up fire lanes down both valleys, the one where our Guard squads got hit and the next one over. Don't let them come around our flank. Don't let her move troops from one hill to the other without knocking some daylight into them. You understand?''

''Yes, Colonel.''

''And don't just sit on your hands. Probe those two hills. I don't want you launching a full-fledged assault, but don't let them ignore you, either. Probe for firing positions. Are they isolated spider holes or connected by tunnels? If they are connected, send me a runner and carefully, boy, carefully work at getting some of your shooters into their tunnels. I wouldn't mind at all if you broke them. Not at all.''

''Yes, Colonel.'' The kid looked scared and excited. Cortez would keep an eye on his left flank. He didn't intend for him to do much more than hold Longknife's troops there in place, but the kid might surprise him.

Good surprise or bad surprise?

''Zhukov, you go with Sawyer. I'll take the rest of the Guard and psalm singers and advance in the center. Not too far. Not too fast.'' Cortez eyed the ground before him. The trees along the edge of the swamp were the only solid cover he had to approach the farmstead. The hilly side showed some cover, even an orchard here and there, but nothing solid.

He turned to the Guard captain. ''Afonin, advance what I haven't given away of your Guard to that orchard. Looks like peaches. Set up fire lanes to cover that first hill. I'll take the last of the Jerusalem Rifles and set them up in the woods beside the swamp. Our job is to keep enough fire on the hill that they don't dare reinforce whatever they've got in those rice paddies. I think the dikes are hollow. Not sure how much they've got there. Zhukov, Sawyer, you will clean them out of the rice paddies and close on the hill. We'll roll them up from right to left,'' Cortez finished. That was the way to go. Roll them up a piece at a time. He had all the time he needed.

As soon as Longknife tried to maneuver a bunch of farmhands under fire, they'd break and run. Yes, this would do the trick.

''Any questions?'' he asked.

There were none.

* * *

Kris got a call up to the Wasp while things stayed quiet.

''I see you and them are at each other's throats,'' Drago said when he came on. The tight-beam aimed straight up cut through the jamming. The Wasp was now trailing right behind Thorpe. Drago came on no more than a minute after the other passed below the horizon. ''Do you need anything from me?'' he asked.

''Not now. Thorpe doesn't dare fire at us while we're this close. Can you tell us anything about what they're doing?''

''I can show you where his troops are for the next minute or so. I don't have any idea what he's up to.''

True to his word, Drago and his magic eyes above did give Kris a good view of what was happening in the woods two miles from where she huddled underground. Cortez wasn't running. No, he was clearly ordering his men for another attack, adjusting his forces, sending some to her left to take another go at Jack, another group to her right to have a go at Gunny's crew.

And there were plenty left to move up the middle.

An attack all along the line?

Cortez wasn't that dumb.

The force headed for Gunny's hill looked to be the smallest. Was that a feint?

But if they were the best he had, that could be his main thrust. If Gunny lost the back door, things could come unhinged in a hurry. Kris shook her head; this was the problem with overhead imagery. It let you count noses. What those noses were attached to, how good they were, and what they intended didn't show in a picture from nearly three hundred klicks up.

Kris picked up the phone. ''Jack, Gunny, did you get the pictures from the Wasp?'' They had. ''You see a need to change anything around?''

''Sure looks like he's coming for us,'' Jack said. ''Not sure which of us he's after first.''

''Me neither,'' Gunny said.

''Then I suggest we see what we can do with what we've got,'' Kris said. ''I think I'll take a walk.''

Leaving Penny to send a runner if anything interesting started to develop, Kris ambled off to review her troops.

Close to her OP, volunteers had gotten the word not to shoot. They were none too happy to have missed out on the first volley, but they liked what they saw. Plenty of white shirts lay in the dust. A few called for help; most just snored.

''Could we send someone out to help their wounded?'' an older woman asked. Kris saw in her eyes a grandma who'd worried many a young'un through a tough situation. Kris allowed that she and a couple of other volunteer women could.

Kris followed them down to the cold room, the large storage area that got the digging started on this hill. They even had ice left over from last winter. They might be pioneers, but that didn't mean they expected to rough it. Three women with buckets of water and ladles led the way out the cold room's thick door.

And got shot at from the homestead.

They ducked back. Kris found a broom, a white rag, and tried it again. ''You got wounded lying out in the sun,'' she shouted. ''We got water and bandages. You gonna let us take care of them?''

''No guns,'' the sergeant shouted on his bullhorn. ''And you go back in the door you came out. One of my men thinks you're making a break, and you'll get a bullet for it.''

''Can we bring your wounded in out of the sun?'' the gray hair shouted over Kris's shoulder.

Hmm, not a bad idea, Kris thought. If they got a few wounded under the hill, troops might be more careful about tossing grenades into holes. Which must have been apparent to the sergeant. There was plenty of time for an argument before he shouted. ''Okay, but only the bleeding. Leave sleepers there.''

Which meant that as soon as one of them woke up, he was expected to join in the shooting. Maybe Kris hadn't been as smart as she thought. Sleepy bullets had only recently come into the inventory and data was scarce on long, drawn-out battles with the stuff.

NELLY, NEXT TIME THE FIRING STARTS, REMIND ME TO ORDER SOME MARINES TO REDART THE GUYS WHO ARE DOWN.

YES, MA'AM. I'M SEARCHING THE SOURCE MATERIAL. THERE'S NOTHING IN THE GENERALLY AVAILABLE LITERATURE ABOUT HOW MANY SHOTS A PERSON CAN TAKE, ONE AFTER THE OTHER.

Which wasn't to say that the tests hadn't been made, only that the results had been kept out of the public records. Sometimes you just couldn't do a good deed for all your trying.

The six women slipped out and started their work. No one took a shot at them. A second group, this time including a couple of strapping young boys, and two equally big girls, slipped out to lug the bleeding into the cool room.

No one objected from down the road where the main hostile camp was. Apparently, while they redeployed into their next attack, there was room for humanitarian care.

Or maybe they were just too busy to notice.

Five went into the valley between the hills to help wounded troops in armor. From these Guard Fusiliers there was gratitude for water, and help bandaging wounds, but no takers on being evacuated. They clutched their rifles and lay ready to do what their orders called for once the shooting started again.

NELLY, REMIND ME TO PASS THAT ALONG TO GUNNY.

YES, MA'AM. HARD CASES FOR HARD CASES, judged the computer.

The judgment struck Kris as obvious. That her computer felt compelled to make it, and did, struck Kris as another reason to talk to Auntie Tru.

Once the rescue operations had the bugs worked out, Kris continued her walk back inside the caves. Here and there, fifty-pound bags of rice half blocked or provided cover in the tunnels. Someone was thinking ahead for when the cave openings got breached. Kris shivered in the cool dark. If it came to fighting in here, the blood would be ankle deep. But if it came to fighting in here, would she throw in the sponge?

A woman came along with a wheelbarrow, pushing one of the fifty-pound rice bags. She seemed to know the caves very well. After looking around for a minute to get her bearings, she upended the barrow and dumped the sack. ''That ought to cover that entire end of the cave. No religious nut is going to tell my daughter what she can be. If Amy wants to be a doctor or a dancer, she's gonna be what she wants to be.''

Kris nodded. There wasn't much room for compromise here. Maybe she didn't need to worry so much about these folks running.

Still, the worst bloodbaths happened when neither side saw any reason to retreat.

Princess, you better come up with some good reason for Cortez to throw in the towel. It doesn't look like these folks even want a towel handy.

A skinny redheaded gal galloped up to Kris. ''Penny says stuff's happening you want to see.'' Kris followed her at a fast jog back to HQ. A glance out told her it was time.

''Get me Gunny and Jack on the line,'' Kris ordered.