TW06 The Khyber Connection NEW (20 page)

The screams from the top of the tower continued unabated. Drakov smiled. After seeing that, the mullah would risk anything, even death in battle, to avoid that fate. Sadullah would not fail now.

"What an extraordinary adventure!" Churchill said.

"Attacked by Ghazis, escaping, and then traveling all alone through miles of hostile territory to find safe haven with the regiment. Incredible. I will be sure to mention it in my dispatches. What a sterling example of indomitable English spirit!"

"If it's all the same with you, Winston, I'd rather you not mention it at all," said Andre. "A story such as that would only result in notoriety when I returned to England. I really have no wish to be deluged by requests to lecture upon my 'harrowing adventures in Afghanistan.' Nor would I wish to be known as an adventuress. I would much prefer to enjoy my privacy."

Churchill nodded. "Yes, well, certainly, since you put it that way, I quite understand. I will accede to your wishes. There is no lack of things to write about. We have had ourselves quite a time since we departed the Malakand fort. I said earlier that you had found safe haven here. but I must admit I do not quite know how safe it is. We have had reports the camp will be attacked tonight."

"Tonight?" said Finn. "Where did this intelligence come from?"

"The khan of Nawagai has informed us so. He states that he has 'definite information' that a determined assault will take place tonight. I shouldn't be surprised. He will play both ends against the middle until he sees how it all comes out, whereupon he will give his allegiance to the victor. The politics of expediency seem to be a way of life with the tribes on the frontier. Friends one day, enemies the next, one battle decides the outcome and then the next is approached afresh." He chuckled. "Much like the House of Commons, in a way."

"How does General Blood plan to deal with this threatened attack?" said Andre.

Churchill shrugged. "There are no alternatives except to make a stand. Retreat in such uncertain political circumstances would be unthinkable. We must hold our position until General Files arrives. The pass must be kept open, the khan 'expediently' loyal. And the Hadda Mullah's Ghazis must not, under any circumstances, be permitted to join with the tribesmen of the Mamund.

Therefore we are entrenched, a bold course, but soundly conceived. Our position is commanded by the surrounding heights, but unlike the Malakand, in this case the range is long. If an attack is launched, orders are to strike our tents, and all those not employed in the trenches must lie down, thereby reducing the risk of casualties. If they attack in force, we stand and fight.

"We expected an attack last night, but only a halfhearted attempt was made, one easily repulsed. We lost one man. Prior to that there had been some skirmishing. The squadron lost one horse when Ghazis opened fire on us from a nullah, and that night one fool who strayed some fifty yards from his picket was killed by tribesmen lurking in the dark. It's astonishing that you were able to get through. The enemy is always out there, creeping close at night and sniping or trying to kill the pickets. Everyone's nerves are a bit on edge. You were fortunate. If you had come just one half hour later, you would most certainly have encountered savages taking advantage of the dark to get in close. They're building up to it, that much is certain. Tonight may well be the night. I'm looking forward to it."

"I don't think I am," Andre said.

"Never fear, Miss Cross. I shall keep close to you. You have had quite an ordeal, but it shall be over soon. Once the pass is forced, we will have broken their resistance. After that it will only be a matter of destroying the fortified villages and bringing them to complete submission."

"I hope you're right," said Andre.

Shots cracked out in the night. Churchill paused to listen. "More sniping?" he said. "Or could this be the push?"

Further shots followed rapidly, and the answer came when the order to strike the tents was passed. The men took to the trenches while others lay flat on the ground, protected by the entrenchment walls, but there was still danger from the dropping bullets. The soldiers conserved their fire. There was nothing to shoot at, no definite targets in the darkness. No one walked unless it was absolutely imperative, and even then they did so at great risk.

"Somewhat ignoble way to spend the evening, don't you think?" said Churchill, keeping his head low to the ground.

"I was tired anyway," said Finn. "I needed to lie down."

Churchill's chuckle was lost in the screaming of the Ghazis who suddenly came charging out of the darkness on all sides of the camp. Volley after volley was poured into them and still they came, waving their swords, charging right into the bayonets of the troops. The new magazine rifles, coupled with the lethal dumdum bullets, took their toll as Ghazis fell by the dozens. There was no panic. The soldiers maintained disciplined fire in the face of a frightening onslaught, and the big guns fired star shells to illuminate the field in a pale, surreal light.

For those lying on the ground, well behind the trenches, there was nothing to do but remain flat and hope a stray bullet would not find them. Only Finn and Andre had a great deal more occupying their attention.

They had to keep constantly on the alert for anyone approaching. The first charge was stopped and whistles blew, signaling an end to independent firing. Volley fire was the order now, until another charge threatened to break through.

It was not long in coming. Screaming at the tops of their lungs, the Ghazis came once more, swarming like army ants out of the darkness. Again the devastating fire was resumed. Ghazis charged up to within several yards of the big guns, only to be blown in half when they discharged. The scene in the trenches was a bizarre juxtaposition of men firing while others next to them engaged Ghazis at bayonet point.

Finn and Andre could spare no time to worry about Ghazis. They were watching their own troops, craning their necks all around to see if anyone in a British uniform was moving closer. And then the mortar fire started. The first shell exploded some thirty yards to the left of the camp, taking out more than a dozen Ghazis as it burst. The second one came moments later, striking just in front of the trenches.

Finn leaped on top of Churchill and kept him pinned beneath his weight as bullets whipped past them.

"We've got to find the bastards before they zero in!" yelled Finn. At that moment a bullet struck him in the arm. "I'm hit!"

Churchill struggled to get up, but Finn pressed him down.

"Stay here" shouted Andre.

Churchill never noticed Andre clocking out. Another shell landed, sending up clouds of dust and clods of earth as it struck the entrenchment wall. Men screamed.

The Ghazi attack continued unabated as they charged the trenches again and again and the British soldiers kept up a punishing stream of fire.

Andre took a gamble. She clocked blind, trying to estimate relative distance coordinates for the heights behind the camp. She thought she knew the weapon being used, or its alternate universe equivalent—a pop mortar, a small tubelike weapon fired from the shoulder with scope sights attached on a slender, collapsible stalk. It would be equipped with night sights, and it fired tiny, ball-shaped missiles about the size of walnuts.

Its operation was completely silent except for an almost imperceptible popping sound made by the launching of the missies.

The plan was clear now. They had never intended to infiltrate assassins to kill Churchill. Instead they had taken up position on the heights in order to drop well placed mortar fire into the camp, taking out the big guns and cutting down on the British advantage, allowing the Ghazis to break through. A few more shots and they would be zeroed in, able to drop missiles directly into the trenches.

Andre tried to estimate trajectory, to think as they had thought, to find the most logical place to set up their point of fire. They needed to be well away from the attacking Ghazis, and the best vantage point for the battle were the heights directly behind the encampment, on the side opposite the Bedmanai Pass. She still had to find them quickly, but it left a great deal of territory to search. Unless she was very lucky, the odds of finding them were very small. And that meant Churchill's death—and Finn's.

Phoenix heard the screams coming from the top of the tower in Drakov's residence. Sayyid Akbar was home again. He felt the molecular disruptor beneath his robe.

It gave him a profound feeling of security. He was sure the opposition wouldn't have such weapons. There were only a few in existence, all prototypes made by Darkness.

The Temporal Army could not figure out a way to duplicate them. The principles of the weapon's operation had been explained to them in detail, but they just couldn't make one. He could not imagine a duplicate Dr. Darkness in the alternate universe. The thought of two of them was unnerving.

Most of the village was empty now, save for the women and children. The men had all gone to take up their positions in the Khyber Pass, preparing for the ambush of the Tirah Expeditionary Force. Phoenix had remained behind, watching Drakov's residence. He had seen Sadullah going in and knew the attack would not begin without him. He wondered what Drakov was doing to him to instill the terror necessary for absolute obedience.

"Is he inside?"

Phoenix jumped about a foot. The voice had come from about five inches away. He turned to see Darkness standing at his elbow.

"Jesus, Doc, I wish you wouldn't do that. I swear, you're going to give me a heart attack one of these days."

"Don't concern yourself," said Darkness. "I know CPR. You haven't answered my question."

"Yeah, he's in there, all right. Putting the fear of God into old Sadullah. They're ready to move. Where's the expeditionary force?"

"Approaching the pass," said Darkness. "I've found the confluence point, thanks to the adjustment team."

"They're okay?"

"They won't be if I don't get back to help them," Darkness said. "Forrester is ready to move with the First Division on my signal, which I'll give him the moment the soldiers from the alternate timeline start coming through the confluence. After that both they and you are on your own. I must get to the adjustment team and help them stop the second assault upon the timestream."

"The second assault?"

"Never mind. It would take too long to explain. We've reached the crisis point. Make your move."

Phoenix was about to reply, but Darkness was already gone. He shook his head, wondering what it must be like to live that way, at light speed. One of these days, thought Phoenix, he'll translate and his tachyons will take off in sixty zillion directions at the same time, and then where will he be? Probably everywhere.

He pulled the disruptor out from beneath his robe and approached the house.

There was only one way to search for the mortar team and it was risky. She had to change her transition coordinates rapidly, clocking blind from place to place atop the heights overlooking the camp.

The task seemed hopeless. There were hundreds of places for them to hide and she had to find them quickly, before their mortar fire turned the tide of the battle. She was desperate. It had all come down to her, and she could not afford to be cautious.

She initiated a warp fugue sequence, one that would allow her to teleport all over the vicinity with lightning speed, but she was afraid it wouldn't be enough. Finn knew what the odds were, yet he had stayed behind to protect Churchill with his life. She couldn’t let him down. She couldn't lose him too. If she was wrong, if she hadn't properly estimated their strategy and they were not in the area she was searching, then it was all over.

She effected over thirty transitions with incredible speed, but they had already found their range and their fire was now falling into the camp with telling effect.

The Ghazis, doubtless believing this was the divine intervention they were promised, renewed their assaults with fanatical determination. She kept estimating possible lines of fire and clocking to those points, all without result. Suddenly they were right in front of her, no more than five feet away.

She reacted quickly, firing from the hip, and the man with the pop mortar became enveloped in the blue mist of the disruptor's neutron beam. She fired again and the second man fell as he was bringing his laser to bear on her, then a jarring impact on her back sent her tumbling to the ground. She dropped the disruptor and wrestled with the man who had tackled her. She jerked aside and the knife scraped along her skull, opening a deep gash in the left side of her head. She trapped the knife hand and rolled on it, dislodging her antagonist and reversing their positions. She brought her right hand down hard, fore knuckle extended, into her opponent's throat, crushing his larynx, then struck again twice more and he lay still.

Breathing heavily, she slowly got to her feet and came face to face with Priest, standing about ten feet away, aiming his laser at her.

She froze. Both of them stood there atop a cliff overlooking a raging battle, and neither moved. The laser was leveled directly at her chest, but Priest hesitated.

Then he slowly lowered the weapon. She stared at him with disbelief.

He shut his eyes briefly. "Andre, forgive me."

The laser started to come up again, and then it fell from his hands as his entire body jerked forward. The point of a bayonet came through his chest, then withdrew again. He collapsed onto the ground. Finn Delaney stood behind him, blood pouring from the wound in his shoulder and one in his arm. He held a Lee-Metford rifle in his hands, its bayonet wet with blood.

"I saw the beam flashes—" he began, then sank down to his knees, holding onto the rifle for support.

She was at his side in an instant.

"How's Churchill?"

"He'll be all right now," said Finn, breathing heavily.

"The Ghazi's broke through to the camp and it was touch and go for a while, but they beat back the assault. I'm beginning to think that Blood's men could subdue the entire frontier all by themselves." He glanced down at the corpse. "It's a good thing I didn't have to see his face."