Picking Up the Pieces

Chapter Eighteen

Pitea was dying.

I stood and watched as flames consumed yet another part of the city, despite the fire hoses the remains of the fire brigade had turned on the blaze. The Communists had withdrawn back into their inner strongholds, daring us to come and blast them out, leaving the remainder of the city to stand or fall on its own. The city was struggling to survive valiantly, but the fighting was making it hard for the remains of the local authorities to take control. The contrast was staggering; some parts of the city were almost intact, almost homelike, while other parts were nothing, but ruins. What the Communists hadn’t used, they’d tried to destroy; they’d utterly ransacked and then burned the richer parts of the city, just to make their point.

And it was all so pointless! The mindless vandalism wouldn’t solve anything. The workers the Communists claimed to represent wouldn’t find their lives any easier because of the devastation; many would find themselves out of work, or trapped in mindless brute labour jobs, clearing up the mess. Each destroyed factory or small business represented another few hundred people unemployed, looking for jobs that didn’t exist. They’d have to turn to crime to survive, I knew, and the rest of the planet wouldn’t be able to tolerate it. The Communists had a hell of a lot to answer for, eventually. If we took their leaders alive, their own people would be trying to crucify them. They probably wouldn’t live long enough to stand trial.

“The gunners are ready to hit Stronghold Four,” Ed said, from behind me. We’d moved the Mobile Command Post into the suburbs of the city, despite Peter’s objections. I wanted — needed — to know what was being done under my instructions. A commander who tried to run the battle from miles away — or light years away, as some of the UN Generals had tried — was one who simply wasn’t in control. I couldn’t afford that kind of luxury, not now. “We haven’t heard anything from Jock.”

“Hold fire for a while,” I said, keying my earpiece. Strongpoint Four was the most likely location on the prisoners; a complex of several factories, including considerable underground facilities. The entire city was riddled with tunnels and sewers and the Communists had used some of them to launch attacks from the rear. They’d grown less enthusiastic about it since we poured gasoline down the sewers and set it on fire. The complex under Strongpoint Four was supposed to be extensive enough to house a bunker; it had been built in the days of fighting the UN and no one seemed to have a clear idea of just what was under there. The owner of the complex had never made it out alive. “Jock, can you hear me?”

There was no response. “Hold fire until the forces are in position,” I ordered, before Ed could say anything. If Jock was in the complex when we opened fire, we’d be condemning him to certain death, along with the prisoners. The Communists might have killed them by now, but I lived in hope. “Bring up the 7^th and 8^th units and get them deployed to seal off any possible route of egress.”

A string of detonations made the ground shudder under my feet. We’d located some of the enemy tunnels and used shaped charges to cause them to collapse, rather than send infantrymen down into the tunnels against a prepared enemy. The clear-up crews would probably be spending years clearing up all the debris from the fighting and removing bodies from the sewers. I didn’t like to think about it in such ways, but it was possible that by removing most of the population, we were actually doing them a favour. The possibility of disease couldn’t be underestimated.

“They’re moving in now,” Ed confirmed. “I’m adding some of the newer tankers to the older forces. They’re going to need support.”

Baptism of fire, I thought. We hadn’t expected such savage fighting and so we hadn’t built a native tank regiment. We hadn’t realised we’d need one, and now… the Legion had lost too many tanks, even if they were easy to replace. Russell had set up a tanker school at the spaceport and rushed a group of drivers and gunners though a heavy training schedule, but I was uncomfortably aware that I was sending babes to the slaughter. They wouldn’t know half the tricks of my tankers and they might not have time to learn. The burned-out shape of a Landshark showed me just what would happen to most of the young fools I’d sent to die. They deserved better from me.

A flight of shells roared overhead, coming down in the midst of an enemy position two kilometres to the north. We’d succeeded in breaking up the enemy position and isolating different groups in their strongholds, but most of them were still fighting savagely. I think that losing much of their civilian cover might almost have been a relief to them. It took a particularly unpleasant mind to accept the thought of fighting where families and friends might be hurt. I’d studied history enough to know that humans were capable of any barbarity, but this was beyond the normal run of unpleasantness. The Communists knew that they had nothing left to lose.

“The gunners are reporting that they scored nine direct hits,” Ed said, consulting the take from the UAVs. The Communists didn’t seem to have realised just what the birds actually were, although there had been some attempts to shoot them out of the sky for dinner. None had succeeded, luckily. The UAV would have exploded if it had been shot down, but even that would have been too revealing. “They’re asking for permission to fire another spread.”

I nodded. “Do so,” I said. The sound of firing seemed to be coming from all around us, as if we were surrounded and being fired upon from all sides. The city’s atmospherics had been weird before the fighting had begun, the residents had told us, and now it seemed to be perpetually wrapped in fighting. “I take it there’s no sign of any let-up…?”

My earpiece buzzed suddenly. “Boss, this is Jock,” Jock said. I almost sagged with relief. “I’m in Strongpoint Four and… sir, they’ve got at least a hundred prisoners here, including some of the local government. I can’t see Muna anywhere, but they’ve mixed up men and women together. The smell is dreadful!”

“Great,” I said, grimly. We couldn’t bombard Strongpoint Four, not if there was a chance of taking them back alive. The reporters probably wouldn’t give us any better press for saving the politicians — not that I could blame them for that, of course — but the politicians might be grateful. I doubted they’d be grateful enough to overlook their destroyed city, but perhaps… and perhaps pigs might fly. “What’s your status?”

“I’m just watching and waiting at the moment, sir,” Jock said. “They think I’m just a coward and have got me running supplies around the place. I can free the prisoners easily; I just can’t get them out without help.”

I looked over at Ed, who looked back. “I’m sending in soldiers to help you,” I said, finally. “The attack will begin in…”

“Make it ten minutes,” Jock said. “Once the chaos starts, I’ll get rid of the guards and keep the prisoners safe in their bunker.”

“We’re on our way,” I said, and closed the connection. “Ed?”

“Already on it,” Ed said. He paused for a moment. “The gunners want to fire shots at the other strongpoints, perhaps convince them that they’re about to be attacked…”

“Make it so,” I ordered, looking down at the plan of the city. We’d secured barely half of it in a week’s fighting, but the remainder was either No Man’s Land or Communist-held territory. As we compressed their strongpoints, resistance became fiercer, but also more hopeless. They had to know that they were badly outgunned. If the Government hadn’t decided they wanted them all dead…

I pushed that thought away and keyed my earpiece. “Tech,” I said, “I have a job for you. When the strongpoints fall, I want you to find out as much as you can from the Communist documents, if you can find them.”

“Understood,” TechnoMage said. “I should warn you that we haven’t had much success interpretation what little documents we have recovered. The Communists didn’t seem to be good at keeping records.”

I nodded. Most of the really bad Communist societies had been very bad at keeping accurate records of anything useful. They’d had people at the bottom of the food chain lying to the people above them because failure to meet their impossible goals would have been punished. Having had nothing to lose, they’d decided to lie to their lords and masters. The UN had had a similar problem, but they’d been able to draw on the resources of the Colonies to keep the ship of state afloat. It had lasted longer than any Communist regime, but it had had advantages that most of them could only dream about.

“The forces are in place,” Ed reported. “We’re ready to move.”

I looked at the time. “Launch,” I ordered. “Tell the gunners to open fire.”

The sound of heavy guns echoed over the city as the gunners opened fire. It was something else that we hadn’t thought to teach the locals and I’d had to man the guns with my own cadre. Normally, we’d have used the cadre to teach the locals how to use the weapons, but there was no time. It was something else I intended to fix once the Communist Uprising had been firmly squashed. There was no reason why the locals couldn’t handle the weapons for us and lighten the burden on my men. They hadn’t expected such hard fighting. In hindsight, of course…

I smiled as new explosions billowed up in the distance. The Communists had dug in extremely well, but we were just piling on the pressure, hour by hour. We’d seen some Communist fighters stumbling out of their barricades, blood leaking from their ears and quite mad. We’d removed them to one of the detention camps, but the medics had confirmed my belief that they’d never recover their hearing again. It didn’t matter. The local government intended to kill them all, even the grunts.

“They’re moving in now,” Ed said, slowly. The sound of shooting was barely audible over everything else I could hear, but it was definitely more focused. “The tanks are going up the front, as bold as brass; the infantry are going in the rear.”

I envisaged what must be happening in my mind’s eye. The defenders, struck suddenly by an all-out assault, trying to repel the offensive while, behind them, a silent killer struck again and again. Jock had the highest rating in the Legion and had once swum through a massive swamp to kill his enemy and escape. The Communists would be utterly unprepared for him as he took them apart from the rear. They wouldn’t even notice him until it was too late.

The sound of shooting grew louder and then dimmed suddenly. “They’re through the outer wall,” Ed reported, as a series of sharp cracks resounded in the air. “They’re pushing the bastards hard… hell, sir; some of them are trying to surrender.”

“Tell them to take them alive if possible,” I ordered, sharply. The local government could have them afterwards, but I wanted information first. “Standard procedure, but try and get them to our interrogators before someone puts a bullet through their heads.”

“Understood,” Ed said. We shared a long look. There had been times when some prisoners hadn’t made it all the way to the detention camps. None of my people had been involved, thank God, but some of the civilians had lynched captive Communists before we could get them to safety. I couldn’t really blame them, but I needed the information in their heads.

My earpiece buzzed again. “Boss, I got the prisoners secure,” Jock said. “Sir, one of them is talking about Muna!”

“Find her,” I snapped, ignoring the danger. “Look for her and find her now!”

“Of course,” Jock said. “I’m on the way now.”

“The advance guard has penetrated down to the inner surface levels,” Ed commented, from his position. “We took nine prisoners, six of whom are badly injured.”

“Get them treated and then send them direct to the interrogators,” I ordered. I thought about ordering a field interrogation, but there wasn’t time. “Jock?”

“Met up with your men,” Jock said. He sounded annoyed under his tight control. “Next time, brief them better… sir. One of them almost killed me.”

“Well, tell him to take another shot,” I snapped back, angrily. “What are you doing now…?”

“Hunting for other prisoners,” Jock said. “Hang on.” I heard him picking someone up. “Show me where the other prisoners are and I won’t cut off your cock, get it?”

The prisoner seemed to get it. “He’s taking me somewhere,” Jock said. “I’ll report in as soon as I find her.”

There was a long pause. “Found her,” he said. I felt my heart turn over in relief. “She was held in a private cell. It looks as if they wanted to interrogate her, but couldn’t decide if she was more use as a dead mercenary or a live hostage. I’ve got her, boss.”

“Get her out when you can,” I ordered, turning my attention back to the map by force of will. “I’ll order the assault units to keep an eye on you so that no one shoots you this time.”

It was nearly twenty minutes later when Jock and Muna finally showed up in an armoured car. She looked tired and wan, but alive. They hadn’t hurt her, just kept her as a prisoner and considered killing her. I couldn’t resist and reached out to give her a hug, feeling her body hardening against mine. Whatever she had gone through, in the past, had left her unable to touch anyone, even me. She’d never had a boyfriend, as far as I knew, and a husband was out of the question.

“It’s good to see you too, sir,” she said, breaking the embrace as soon as she decently could. “I hope you didn’t let anyone near the logistics computers, right?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I left all the paperwork for you.”

She laughed. “Jock,” I ordered, “escort her back to the spaceport and ensure that the medic takes a good look at her before we do anything else. You’re both on leave for a week. I think we can finish up here without you.”

“You couldn’t get out of a paper bag without me,” Jock said, quickly. “In fact, without me you’d still be…”

“Out,” I said, firmly, and turned back to the display. The fall of Strongpoint Four left only seven strongpoints in the city and now that Muna had been recovered, along with a few dozen politicians, we could afford to blow them into dust from a safe distance. Too many people had died already. “Ed…”

Ed was looking down at his console. “Sir, I’m picking up a signal from the Communists,” he said. “They’d like to discuss terms.”

“Get a lock on where the signals coming from and blast it,” Jock suggested, echoing my own thoughts. “Or send me back in there with a knife and licence to kill…”

“I said, get out,” I snapped, angrily. If Jock wanted to risk himself, I didn’t mind, but Muna needed an escort back to the spaceport. Honestly, there were days when things wouldn’t go right if you paid them. “They want to surrender?”

“They said they want to discuss terms,” Ed said, once Jock had stomped out of the command post. “I think they’re stalling.”

I smiled as the sound of firing broke out again in the distance. “Tell them that we’ll accept their surrender now if they wish to surrender,” I said. “We won’t make promises, but I think that most of the small fry might be sent to work camps for a few years instead of being executed.”

“It might not be best to remind them of their executions,” Ed said, dryly. I nodded as he bent his head to the console. “I’ll tell them that we’ll take them all prisoner rather than shooting them on the spot.”

I listened absently as the discussion raged backwards and forwards. I suggested a ceasefire to see how sincere they were and was surprised when they accepted without demur. They had to be desperate, I realised; perhaps they were even short on food and supplies. They’d been firing off ammunition like it was going out of fashion and we’d overrun some of their supply deports. It was just possible that they were very short on ammunition…

“They’re willing to surrender as long as they can keep their personal arms with them,” Ed said, finally. I snorted at that one. “Thought not; they’re asking what guarantee we’ll make for their safety.”

I considered it. “Tell them that we’ll provide the guards and protect them from being lynched,” I said, finally. “As a condition of their surrender, they respond to questions and help us sort out what actually happened. If they cooperate, we’ll put in a good word for them.”

Ed leaned over to me. “Sir, the Acting President isn’t going to like that…”

“I know,” I said. “If it comes to that, we can recruit the small fry into the Legion and take them off-world. We won’t have to stay here for the rest of our lives.”

Ed chatted backwards and forwards for nearly ten minutes, and then he looked up at me. “It’s over,” he said, simply. “They’re surrendering.”