Picking Up the Pieces

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Shit,” Ed said, quietly.

I nodded. “Damn it,” I said, keying my earpiece for the link to the UAV pilot. “How the hell did you miss them that close to us?”

“I don’t know, sir,” the pilot said, after a moment. I looked at the burning remains of the shuttle in the distance and swore under my breath. I’d known that we were risking a shuttle, and at least we’d gotten all of the supplies off the ship, but I still hated to lose any of them. The cost of replacing it would cut severely into the profits from the contract. “They just seemed to appear from nowhere!”

Ed looked over at me. “A hidey-hole nearby?” He guessed. “Or maybe more of those damned blankets?”

“Perhaps,” I said. The fires were starting to burn themselves out already, much to my relief. Burning down half the surrounding area would not have endeared us to the locals, although we would have to clear fire lanes in the morning anyway. The darkening skies probably presaged an attack on the fort. How many fighters had the enemy managed to slip up under cover? “Pilot, are you picking up any signals from the shuttle remains?”

“No, sir,” the pilot said. “There’s nothing, but the heat flare; the black box must have been destroyed in the explosion.”

“Return to scanning pattern and do a better job of it this time,” I snarled, and cut the connection. As the temperature dropped, it would be harder for them to hide under shielding blankets or any other form of cover. “I don’t think there’s any point in recovering the remains of the shuttle before morning, so push out A Company and set up the defences as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” Ed said. I looked back towards the dying fire and winced inwardly. If the black box had been destroyed, and there was no locator beacon blinking away in the distance, there was no hope at all that the crew had survived. “Do you want to call for extra support from the spaceport?”

I considered it. It would be useful to have more men, but the only way to get them here would be by land and that would take time. They’d also be coming up in the dark, which wasn’t something I would condone if there was any choice in the matter. The best of sensors couldn’t pick out hidden IEDs and mines in the darkness and the experienced soldiers wouldn’t be able to use their eyes. We might have the advantage of night-vision equipment, but I was prepared to bet that the enemy would have countermeasures in place. It was a risk that didn’t seem warranted.

“No,” I said, finally. “I’ll talk to Robert and have him prepare a second convoy at first light, and then we can send back some of the vehicles from here and prepare for a long stay. You get the defences sorted out; I’ll call home and explain what happened to the shuttle.”

At Peter’s insistence, the communications gear had been moved down into one of the bunkers — I think it had originally been intended to store ammunition; it had the right kind of smell — and set up there. I smiled to myself as I checked the equipment quickly and established a link through the Julius Caesar, back down to the spaceport. The enemy might be able to tap into our radio transmissions, even if they couldn’t decrypt them, but they wouldn’t be able to intercept the laser beam we were using from the fort. Peter had set the transmitter up personally and locked it onto the transport starship. It was just a coincidence — of course — that the William Tell couldn’t intercept it either. I didn’t want Fleet listening to everything I had to say.

“I’ll get B Company and two local units prepared and ready,” Robert said, once I’d made contact and updated him about the situation. “The local media is making a right fuss over the reoccupation of the fort; they’re calling it a slap in the face to secessionist opinion.”

“I bet they are,” I said, sourly. The local media seemed to spend half its time vilifying the farmers and miners as the villains of the piece, convincing the urban residents that all their prejudices against the farmers were fully justified. If the farmers were listening to it, they were probably on the verge of declaring independence and forcing the city-dwellers to work or starve. Their own media was much more restrained, but concentrated on how many of them were going to lose their farms and the clothes of their backs under the new regime. The irony was that I had half a plan to deal with the situation, yet I needed to win time… and that meant fighting the farmers.

“I’m afraid so,” Robert confirmed. “On the other hand, the reoccupation of the fort has been good for our morale as well. They’re a little surprised it happened without anyone hearing about it, but now the news is out…”

I shrugged. I’d been on operations that had been announced to the media well before the fighting actually began and, because of the advance warning, had gone horrifically wrong. Sometimes the enemy had just abandoned the positions they had known we were going to attack; at other times, they’d dug in and fought to the death. There hadn’t even been any way to know what we were facing until it was too late, just because the media had ruined the intelligence work. I’d have cheerfully shot half of the reporters I’d met if it had been allowed. I understood that quite a few of them had been killed in the wake of John Walker’s coup.

“Just say operational security if anyone asks,” I said, seriously. I hadn’t even told the local government about the planned mission. I was sure that they could be trusted — as if — but in my experience, politicians couldn’t help, but blab about everything they knew. The political leaders might be officially above suspicion, but their aides weren’t, nor were their wives, mistresses, catamites and relatives. The less they knew in advance, the better. “I don’t want any more leaks if it can be avoided.”

“Understood,” Robert said. “On a different note, one of the anti-farmer demonstrations turned violent. Two hundred people are dead or badly wounded and Main Street was pretty torn up. We ended up having to use tear gas to break up the riot and send most of the rioting scrum right into the detention camp.”

I swore. “What happened?”

“We’re not sure,” Robert admitted. “Apparently, one of the student groups in the university decided that some of the local leaders were linked to the farmers in some way and came out on the streets against them. One of the people they accused was a former trade union leader and some of his supporters launched a counter- demonstration, which led to several other groups becoming involved and a riot breaking out. The soldiers on duty were under orders to keep away from any demonstrations unless they were ordered to intervene specifically and… well, by the time they were ordered to intervene, there were too few of them to do anything, but fire into the crowd.”

He scowled. “I told them to stay back until we could get reinforcements over there,” he added. “Once we got several more companies over there, we used gas to break up the riot and send most of them fleeing for home. The remainder we arrested and dumped in the camps.”

My earpiece buzzed before I could respond. “Sir, we have major incoming enemy forces,” the UAV pilot said. “At least two hundred of them, approaching from the north, armed to the teeth.”

“I’m on my way,” I replied. If Peter had his way, I’d be stuck in the bunker during the entire fight, but I had other ideas. “Robert, I’ll be back at the spaceport tomorrow, depending upon events. Just keep the rioters penned up and then… well, they’re locals, so let the locals sentence them. Did any of us get killed?”

“No, sir,” Robert replied. “A couple of soldiers got pretty banged up and a third had an accident with a tear gas capsule, but none of us were killed.”

“Good,” I said, hiding a smile. Tear gas wouldn’t actually kill a soldier with the proper vaccinations, but no one would ever let him forget it. “I’ll see you tomorrow them. Over and out.”

The sound of shooting — brief isolated shots — could be heard in the distance as I came out of the bunker and into the yard. Ed had deployed his men carefully and put the snipers — complete with night-vision gear — in positions where they could fire, without being hit easily themselves, although the enemy snipers were also just as good. The farmers and miners had to have been training for years, although perhaps it made sense; there were some pretty nasty creatures up in the mountains. Svergie didn’t have anything comparable to the Heinlein Gnasher or the New Washington Neo-Scorpion, but it had bear and tiger analogues. The locals probably learned to shoot very quickly; the beasts had certainly developed a taste for human flesh.

I winced as I heard the sound of a mortar opening fire, sending shells flying towards us, but we had an ace up our sleeve. A radar-guided laser cannon opened fire and detonated the mortar shell in the air, exploding it harmlessly well away from us. Ed had placed the four laser cannons in positions to intercept and destroy anything that might hit the camp — unlike the defenders we’d removed — and as I watched, other shells were cut out of the skies before they could explode. The firing intensified, but they didn’t come close to overloading the laser systems.

Ed looked over at me from his position when I entered. “If I’d been running the attack, I’d have brought along the quick-firing guns they’re supposed to have,” he said, dryly. I nodded in agreement. The only way to overload the laser defences would be to give them more targets than they could handle. It would be possible, if the bombardment was intense enough, but it didn’t look as if the enemy had brought enough mortars to accomplish that feat. “Instead, they’re just playing games with us.”

“Or forcing us to look in the wrong direction,” I said, looking down at the take from the UAV. The enemy seemed to have discarded stealth altogether, choosing instead to push forward towards our positions as quickly as they could. I hoped they pulled back before they hit the first line of defences. Unless I was deeply mistaken, a lot of them were about to die. “Keep the sensor network up and running.”

The sound of firing grew louder as the enemy came closer. It rapidly became apparent that they had their own night-vision equipment, perhaps UN-issue, because their shooting was extremely accurate. They were flitting closer from cover to cover, firing as they came, forcing our men to return fire with short, precise bursts. The fighting only intensified as they came towards the main bunkers and discovered the landmines we’d prepared for them. The explosions sent them reeling backwards in disarray and our men picked them off as quickly as possible.

“We could send out teams and harass them as they fall back,” Peter suggested, but Ed and I both shook our heads. In the darkness, the odds of heavy casualties would be too high and I didn’t want to lose more men. There were already too many men lying in body-bags and waiting for a return to the spaceport. “Or use our own mortars.”

Ed nodded and keyed his radio. “Tell the mortars that they can launch counter-battery strikes at will,” he said. I nodded, leaving him to command. We’d held them back because we needed to keep our own shells away from the point defence lasers — on a hair trigger, the UN-designed system sometimes couldn’t tell the difference between a shell coming and a shell going — but now we could use them openly. “I repeat, fire at will.”

The sound of our mortars echoed out as they opened fire, sending death and destruction towards the enemy forces. I watched the take from the UAV as the explosions billowed out in the distance, flattening trees and destroying enemy equipment, but the enemy were moving their weapons as soon as they fired a single shell. I had to admire their determination, even though they had to know that they weren’t getting anything through the defences… or maybe they just wanted to drain our energy and force us to remain on alert. They just kept sniping at us from a safe distance, having learnt the folly of a frontal attack, keeping the men awake. I yawned suddenly and cursed under my breath. No one would be having a good sleep tonight.

“Rotate half of the men off-watch and tell them to get some sleep,” I ordered, grimly. Ed nodded, sharing my concerns. A tired army was one that would make mistakes. “No drugs or sleeping machines; tell them to sleep with their boots on.”

“I’ll supervise,” Peter volunteered. Sleeping with their boots on was an old UN piece of slang, referring to having soldiers sleeping in their uniforms and body armour, with their weapons by their side. The UNPF required hours of paperwork before it was permitted, but I didn’t have to worry about that. My men would be as ready for battle as I could make them. If the fort was seriously threatened, we’d need to get them up and firing as quickly as possible. “Keep an eye on him, sir.”

“Yes, dad,” I said, tiredly.

“You should get some sleep too,” Ed said. He didn’t look any better than I did; we both looked like walking zombies. His normally clean-shaven face was showing signs of stubble and his eyes were dark circles. I rubbed my own chin and felt two days worth of growth. I needed a shower, a shave and several hours in bed, perhaps not in that order. “It doesn’t look as if they’re going to break through.”

I looked down at my wristcom. There were still five hours before local dawn. We’d have to be on alert then — dawn was a common time to launch an offensive — but before then… I could sleep, couldn’t I? The thought was seductive, overriding my sense of duty and obligation to my men; I could crawl into one of the bunkers, get a blanket, and sleep for those five hours. I cursed it under my breath, but Ed was right; I could sleep — I even should sleep.

And my mind was wandering.

“Wake me if there’s a problem or twenty minutes before dawn,” I ordered, bowing to the inevitable. “If they don’t push in an offensive, I’ll relieve you then and you can get some sleep yourself.”

I staggered down the stairs, returned to the command bunker, and curled up on the floor with a blanket. There were UN Generals who had insisted on travelling with their personal staff and bedding, but I felt I should set an example. At that moment, it seemed like a very stupid decision to me; I should have brought more bedding for myself. It was the tiredness talking…

A moment later, Peter was shaking me. “What’s happening?” I asked, blearily. I felt as if I hadn’t slept at all. “Are we under attack?”

“It’s twenty minutes before dawn,” Peter said. I stared at him, half-convinced that he was playing a trick. I couldn’t have slept, could I? I looked at my wristcom and confirmed the time, then rolled over and stood up carefully. My mind felt musty and old, but somehow I managed to pick up my weapon and follow him out of the bunker, back up to Ed’s observation post. I could see the first hint of sunlight in the distance, turning the darkness of the night sky into the dull grey of morning. “They’ve been shooting at us all night.”

I snorted. “Let’s hope they’re as tired as we are,” I said, as we stepped into the observation post. “Ed?”

Ed didn’t look much better than I did; I suspected he’d popped a stimulant or something to help him keep awake. “They’ve been probing our defences all night, but they haven’t launched a serious attack,” he reported, grimly. “I don’t think they’re going to attack us, but they’re going to be a definite presence in the surrounding area. I think that any patrols are going to have to be heavily armed and perhaps escorted by the armoured cars.”

“Probably,” I agreed, looking at the take from the UAV. I didn’t trust it completely, but it didn’t look as if an enemy force was massing and preparing to attack. They’d be foolish to launch such an assault, as tired as we were; they knew we’d tear them a new asshole. They’d be better off sniping from a distance and hitting patrols. “Still, we’ll watch and wait.”

An hour passed slowly as the sun climbed into the sky. Little happened, apart from a handful of shots fired towards us, leading me to believe that the enemy had definitely decided to fall back and avoid a conventional battle. As the sun rose higher, I made my own plans. Once the first convoy arrived, I’d go back to the spaceport with it, leaving Ed in command until I returned.

“Hold the fortress and run patrols through the countryside,” I ordered, gazing towards the mountains. The miners were lurking there, waiting for the chance to attack us, or perhaps preparing for our own attack. They knew we had to go after them sooner rather than later. “I want to have a few words with the Acting President. It’s time we started looking for a political solution to this… nightmare.”