The Final Battle (19 page)

Vaas pulled up a tactical display that summarized the
NRA
’s current tactical situation. Michael drew in a sharp breath at the sight.

“No, it’s not pretty,” Vaas admitted.

It wasn’t. Michael didn’t bother to count the Hammer units arrayed around the half million square kilometers of limestone karst the
NRA
called home; there were too many. “Lot of Hammer marines out there, General,” he said. “That’s new.”

“Even the dumbest Hammer general was able to work out that Planetary Ground Defense Force troops are no match for the
NRA
. I’ve lost count of how many PGDF units we’ve torn apart. So Polk managed to convince the Defense Council that they had no choice but to send in the marines.”

“Is it as bad as it looks?”

“If you’re Jeremiah Polk sitting in your air-conditioned bunker staring at holovid screens, status boards, and tactical displays and you believe the reports you’re given, then yes, it looks bad for us.”

“I hear a ‘but,’” Michael said.

Vass nodded. “You do. Let me see … this is
MARFOR 8
’s area of operations. They sit across our resupply routes down from northern Maranzika, and here—” He pointed to the town of Daleel. “—is where their 8th Brigade is. Five thousand well-trained, superbly equipped marines. Best unit in the Hammer order of battle.”

“Where’s the ‘but,’ General?”

“You remember Operation Medusa?’

Michael grimaced. “How could I forget?” he said. The Hammer’s operation to take the
NRA
Branxton base had given him his first taste of ground combat. He’d hated it: the chaos, the dirt, the smoke, the noise, the sound of hypersonic rounds tearing the air around him, the way death lay waste to those around him, the dead so close that he could smell the metallic, coppery reek of blood hanging in the air.

“Well, as is the Hammer way, Polk had anyone even remotely responsible for Medusa’s failure taken out and shot. He started with the commanding general, Baxter, and worked his way down. These guys here—” Again he pointed to the icon that marked the
MARFOR 8
’s position. “—lost every officer above the rank of colonel.”

“Shit.”

“And Polk did not stop there. He even had a couple of platoon commanders shot.”

“Let me guess. Polk thinks the 8th is combat-effective, whereas it’s—”

“A fucking mess. The 8th’s commanding general and his staff are too frightened to pass any bad news back up the line, so they don’t. We have our people on the inside. They tell me that if we attacked them, they’d fold like the proverbial house of cards. And the rest of
MARFOR 8
is not much better.”

“What about the rest?” Michael asked.

“
MARFOR 6
is probably the best of them. Of all the force elements involved in the Medusa fiasco, they performed the best, so they got off lightly.
MARFOR 11
’s somewhere in between. But Polk’s kidding himself if he thinks these assholes are a match for us.”

“And Anna? What’s the 120th up to?”

“They’re dug in northeast of McNair, in the Velmar Mountains. They are part of 9 Brigade, and their job is to keep some of the pressure off the Branxtons. And thanks to your Anna and the rest of them, it’s working. They’ve given the Hammers one hell of a beating. A bit too good, actually.”

Michael did not like the sound of that. “Too well?”

“Yes. Thanks to that Kraa-damned peace treaty with the Feds, the Hammers were able to transfer three marine forces—
MARFOR
s 21, 33, and 92—in from Faith; 33 and 92 were sent south, and
MARFOR 21
has been deployed across the Calderon Gap to make sure our 9th Brigade doesn’t pose any threat to McNair City. But what they don’t know is that we’ve managed to get a second brigade up there. It’s taken us months to do it, and now we’re about to teach the new boys one hell of a lesson.”

If it were possible, Michael’s heart sank even more; the Hammers outnumbered the
NRA
three to one. “One hell of a lesson.”

“Operation Caradoc,” Vaas said, grim-faced. “Part of the deception plan for Juggernaut. And speaking of Juggernaut, thank Kraa you got through with the latest plans and those brevity codes. There are so many damn Hammer ships over this planet, we haven’t been able to get messages in or out for the last month.”

“You didn’t have the latest date?” Michael asked, incredulous.

“No, we did not. We’d have been sitting on our asses twiddling our thumbs when your guys arrived, and that would not have been good.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” he said.

“To take the Hammers’ eyes off Juggernaut, we have to make them think the
NRA
is trying to break out of the Branxtons. We hope … we think Operation Caradoc will distract them enough to let our people take out the antiballistic missile installations around McNair. We’ll also mount attacks on the planetary defense bases at Qian and Kraneveldt, and speaking of Kraneveldt,” Vaas said, turning to Michael, “they still haven’t finished rebuilding after you trashed the place.”

“That seems like a lifetime ago, General,” Michael said, his voice soft as he recalled the way his hijacked lander’s Henschel HKS-30 cannons had chewed their way through billions of dollars of Hammer hardware, with hypervelocity depleted uranium slugs stitching lines of red dots across ceramcrete aprons, the towering columns of flame-shot black smoke rising skyward, and Corporal Yazdi’s adrenaline-fueled triumph as she took out another flier, only to end up in an unmarked grave on a rain-drenched hillside.

“You did well.”

“Only if we can finish this. What about the marine bases?”

“We’ll mount battalion-strength attacks against Besud, Amokran, and Yamaichi. Beslan Island we can’t do much about; it’s too hard to get to, but we will run truck bombs into its main gate and perimeter defenses. Won’t achieve anything except a lot of smoke and noise, but it’ll add to the confusion.”

Michael put his hand up. “Hold on, General,” he said. “Battalion-strength attacks against marine force bases? I’m sorry, but are you nuts?”

Vaas laughed. “Probably, but have some faith in me. They are only diversionary attacks.”

“Still a huge risk.”

“Not really. The
NRA
has a secret weapon: all the marines Polk had shot.”

Michael looked skeptical. “I’m sure,” he said, “that there are a lot of marines who’d happily cut Polk a new asshole, but that’s because they’re pissed at what he’s done. They won’t sit on their asses if the
NRA
attacks them.”

“No, they won’t, but we don’t need them to. All we need is panic and indecision, and thanks to the ax that Polk hangs over the neck of every planetary defense and marine commander, believe me when I say there’ll be plenty of that about.”

Michael did not look convinced. “And how can you make sure of that?”

“Let me see … Take Yamaichi. The commanding officer of the marine air wing is one of ours, along with most of his staff. The man’s uncle was shot after Medusa, so he didn’t need much persuading to lend us a hand. And Besud will find that a large percentage of its ground-attack landers are combat-ineffective as well.”

“You can do that?”

“We think so. We own the specialist unit that maintains their fire-control systems.”

“What about Amokran?” Michael asked even though something told him that he would not like what Vaas was about to tell him.

“Best we could do is a couple of senior officers in one of their combat logistics battalions. We’ve given Amokran to Anna’s battalion …”

“Oh, no,” Michael whispered.

“… and that’s because the 3rd is one of the best units we have in the
NRA
, so I’m afraid they get the hardest targets.”

“Can’t argue with success, I suppose,” Michael said, his voice stiff.

“No, you can’t, not in this business. Now, what’s next? Oh, yes. What to do with you. Now, I know this will come as a disappointment, but I don’t want you joining the 3rd.”

Michael blinked; he had assumed the transfer was just a formality. “It doesn’t bother me that Anna’s the battalion commander, sir.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t, but it’s not that. I have other plans for you. Others may have taken the Juggernaut idea and run with it, but it was your idea, just as what comes next was your idea. Sending you out there,” Vaas said, waving an arm, “in the field with an assault rifle in your hand would be a criminal waste of your talents …”

Maybe so, General
, Michael thought, keeping his face wooden,
but that means I’ll be spending far too much time away from Anna
.

“… and before you tear my head off, I know what you’re thinking. Anna, right?”

“Was I that obvious, sir?”

Vaas chuckled. “I’m psychic, remember?”

“So everyone keeps telling me.”

“Look, seeing her won’t be a problem, because I want you to be my roving eyes and ears, someone who’s not part of the formal command structure, my Devil’s advocate, if you like.”

“If that’s what you want, sir.”

“It is. You’ll be … let me see … yes, let’s call you my aide-de-camp.”

“Sounds good, sir,” Michael said. “For a moment I thought you wanted to bury me somewhere in the bowels of
ENCOMM
.”

“Not a chance, my boy. So trust me, you’ll find plenty of opportunities to visit the Velmars.”

“Thank you, General.”

“Right. The final run-through for Juggernaut is this afternoon. I’d like you to sit in on it, tell me what you think.”

“I’ll be there, and thanks for giving me so much time. I know how busy you are.”

“It’s nothing less than you deserve. Anything else?”

“Colonel Hartspring?”

“Now there’s a coincidence.” Vaas’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t forgotten what Hartspring tried to do to you and Anna, and I don’t suppose you have either.”

“How can I? He hasn’t given up.”

“What’s the scumbag up to now?”

“He runs a unit called Team Victor. It’s a personal project of the chief councillor’s. When I was in jail waiting to be … you know … a message was smuggled in to tell me Team Victor was planning to kidnap Anna and hand her over to DocSec, and … you can guess the rest.”

“That’s answered a few questions we had,” Vaas said. He shook his head, his face a puzzled frown. “But why would they do that?”

“Polk didn’t think I was hurting enough, so he decided to make me really suffer. which I did,” Michael whispered.

“Kraa!” Vaas hissed. “They are something, those people. But why are you telling me?”

“I’m going to hunt Hartspring down and kill him, and when I’ve done that, I’m going after Polk. The time’s not yet right, but when it is, I want your word that you’ll let me do what I have to do.”

“Ah,” Vaas said, “that’s a tough one. You are one of my best assets, Michael. What if I still need you?”

Michael shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll go anyway,” he said, “but I’d feel a lot better if you said okay.”

“What the hell, fine.” Vaas sighed. “When the time’s right, come and ask. Unless you are the only thing that stands between us and total defeat, I’ll say yes.”

Vaas’s aide appeared. “General, the staff meeting?” he said.

“Yeah, sorry, Major,” Vaas said. “I’ll be there in a second. Michael, I have to go.”

“Thanks for everything, General. I know how busy you are.”

“No problem. Now, I was talking about coincidences, so I think you’ll enjoy this.” Vaas tossed a small packet to Michael. “One last thing: The next time I see you, I want you in
NRA
uniform. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

• • •

Tucked away in a corner of the staff canteen with a fresh mug of coffee, Michael opened the packet and spilled the contents onto the table: a handwritten note and a gold sunburst on a thin chain.

He picked up the note.

Michael rolled the sunburst between his fingers. “Oh, yes, Colonel Hartspring,” he said under his breath, “your day will come, and that’s my promise to you.” The pain and suffering the man had promised Anna drove a wave of white-hot anger through his body; fists clenched, he drove his fingers into his palms so hard that the nails drew blood. He took a deep breath to steady himself as he put the sunburst onto the chain and around his neck.

He finished his coffee and set off to find Shinoda to tell her that that he would not be going with her to join the 120th.

• • •

The conference room was set with rows of seats arrayed in half circles around a small table and, off to one side, a lectern. As usual, Michael arrived early and slipped unnoticed into a seat at the back.

Slowly the place filled up. Michael checked the face of each new arrival, looking for anyone he knew. But every face was a stranger’s except that of Major Davoodi, Vaas’s aide, and they’d met that morning for the first time. He’d expected to see Captain Adrissa and the rest of the Fed spacers on her staff, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Strange
, he thought.
I wonder where they are.

Two minutes after the flow of arrivals had slowed to a trickle and then stopped, Davoodi called the gathering to attention as Vaas bustled in, followed by his new chief of staff and two more officers, one of whom he did recognize: Colonel, no, make that Brigadier General Pedersen, Vaas’s intelligence chief. As the rest of the brass took their seats at the table, Vaas remained standing, his eyes scanning the room.