The Final Battle (27 page)

“I know we do. The only solution I can think of is deceit.”

“Deceit?”

“Yes. We take Calverson and Malfroy out of circulation while making it look as if they are safe and well. That neutralizes Henry Ndegwa; he won’t even break wind without Calverson’s say-so. Calverson and Malfroy issue a string of communiqués telling the brethren to stay firmly on the fence until the new government is in place. That gives the
NRA
the breathing space they need to deal with Polk and the Hammer military. Then Calverson and Malfroy, along with Ndegwa and every other senior member of the Brethren while we’re at it, are made an offer they cannot refuse.”

“Let me guess: cooperate or die.”

“You got it.”

“Shit,” Michael hissed. “You don’t want much.”

“It’s the only way.”

“No wonder
ENCOMM
hasn’t wanted to get involved,” Michael said. “I don’t blame them.”

“Maybe not, but it needs to be done. If it isn’t, then like I said, we can win the war only to lose the peace.”

“I agree. So can we work up a detailed proposal? I’ll only get one chance to convince Vaas, and I need to get it right.”

“We can.”

“Now?”

“If I must,” Ruark sighed. “I hate all-nighters, but if that’s what it takes. Let me go tell my boss what we’re planning—he’ll need to sign off when we’re done—and then we’ll get started.”

Monday, July 19, 2404, UD
ENCOMM, Branxton base

“I’ve read your report,” Vaas said, grim-faced, “and it was something I did not enjoy.”

“It’s a much bigger problem than we thought, sir.”

“And even harder to resolve.”

“Yes.”

“Kraa damn it,” Vaas muttered; Michael thought he looked exhausted. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes, sir. Calverson and Malfroy can never stop the
NRA
from winning the war. The peace is another matter.”

“I hate to say it, but I think that’s right. Leave it with me. I’ll present it for discussion at the next staff meeting, and thanks, Michael. You’ve done a good job. This is exactly why I don’t want you swanning around being shot at.”

“Happy to help, General.”

“Good, because I want you to ride shotgun on a trial we’re doing tomorrow. Go see Major Marcovitz. She’ll brief you; she knows what I want.”

“Sir.”

• • •

“What’s the scoop, sir?” Shinoda asked as she and the rest of the security detail followed Michael into the maglev carriage for the long journey across the Branxtons.

“The 656th is doing trials of the first
NRA
-built mobile laser batteries, and General Vaas thinks the engineers are being a bit overoptimistic about how well they’ll work. He wants us to make sure there’s no cheating.”

“Sounds good to me, sir,” Shinoda said.

“Make sure you bring your helmets. There’ll be a lot of orbital kinetics coming our way.”

“Oh, great,” Shinoda muttered.

Tuesday, September 2, 2404, UD
Federal Battalion headquarters, Velmar base

“Every one?”

“I’m afraid so, admiral,” General Vaas said. “All the Juggernaut prisoners were shot yesterday by two DocSec battalions: the 154th and 352nd.”

“What animal would do such a thing?” Jaruzelska whispered, her face twisted into a mask of pain. Vaas thought the woman had aged ten years in as many seconds.

“Jeremiah Polk.”

“Why didn’t we know?”

“I can’t answer that, but I will find out. And we will find out the names of the DocSec troopers involved, and when we do, we will hunt them down, every last one.”

“I hope so. And thanks for telling me.”

“As the ranking Fed officer on Commitment, I thought you should know first.”

“Me, the ranking Fed officer on Commitment?” Jaruzelska said with a twisted smile of pain and loss. “Not anymore, General. I’m just a trooper now.”

“Ah, yes, you’re right.” Vaas thought for a moment. “Perhaps I should put a comm through to Colonel Helfort.”

“No, let me talk to her. She should brief the battalion. If you could sit on this until then, that’d be good.”

“We will.”

Friday, September 17, 2404, UD
ENCOMM billets, Branxton base

Michael was beyond exhausted.

As week followed week, Vaas had thrown task after task at Michael, the pace relentless as the launch of Operation Tortoise approached. The name still made Michael smile, and it was very apt. The
NRA
would make its push for McNair under a missile screen exactly as the Roman Army had moved forward under its testudo of shields. And every bit as unstoppable, Michael hoped.

But Tortoise could wait. If he didn’t get some sleep, he would collapse. Michael eased his aching body down onto his bunk and kicked off his boots, collapsing back with a grateful sigh.
It won’t be long now
, he reassured himself as sleep claimed him.

Sleep did not have him for long. A hand reached down to drag him awake.

“What?” he mumbled.

“General Vaas wants you, sir.”

Michael groaned. “You’re fu—”

“Now, sir.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be there in two,” Michael said, cursing under his breath when he realized that he had been asleep for all of an hour. With an effort, he sat up. Forcing feet into boots, he set off for Vaas’s office, pausing only to liberate a mug of coffee from the drinkbot. He wouldn’t have made it otherwise.

Vaas waved him into his office. “Sit!” he said. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Michael did as he was ordered, wondering if the man ever slept. And what the hell did he want now? Michael hadn’t been back in
ENCOMM
long enough for the bloody man to dream up a new mission, surely.

“Right,” Vaas said, turning his attention back to Michael at last. “The Revival Council has finally given the go-ahead for Tortoise.”

“Taken a while,” Michael said. He wondered why Vaas had dragged him out of his rack to tell him the news.

“Some of our Hammer friends took longer than the Council expected to see the merits of the Revivalist cause.”

“So Polk’s on his own, General?”

“He will be when it becomes obvious that the Hammers might lose this war. He’ll find key members of his Supreme Council have gone AWOL, along with the planetary councillors from Faith and Fortitude, and that means it’s time.”

Michael frowned; then it clicked. “Ah, you mean Hartspring and Polk?”

“I do. I thought I’d spare you the humiliation of going down on bended knee to beg me to let you go kill the slimeballs.”

“I’m touched by your consideration, General.”

Vaas grinned. “You remember the Calverson and Malfroy operation?” he asked.

“Operation Tanglevine? Of course. You asked me to keep an eye on their training.”

“Which you did, I know. Anyway, I was thinking that it’s as good a way as any to get you right into McNair without having your ass shot off. And that way, you’ll be there before Polk sees the writing on the wall and tries to run for it.”

“That sounds good, General.”

“One condition. I want you to take any of your security team dumb enough to volunteer to go along. I accept that you’ll always do your best to get yourself killed, but let’s lower the odds a bit, shall we?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So what are you waiting for? Tanglevine kicks off in forty-eight hours, so get your ass in gear!”

• • •

“Where are we off to now, sir?” Shinoda asked as the maglev accelerated away.

“Portal Zulu-36.”

“Again? You like that place. Do you know what happens after that?”

“Well, that depends on you and the guys. I’m not the general’s aide-de-camp anymore.”

That got Shinoda’s attention. “You’re not?” she said. “Have you been … you know?”

“What, sacked?” Michael laughed and shook his head. “No. The general’s approved my request to go take care of some private business.”

“Private business? I think you’d better tell me what you’re talking about, sir.”

“Let me tell you about a man called Hartspring, a DocSec colonel.”

Shinoda looked at Michael wide-eyed when he’d finished. “That’s one hell of a story, sir,” she said. “I never knew.”

“No reason why you should.”

“I suppose.” Shinoda paused. “But I can see why you’re going after him,” she went on. “I’d do the same in your shoes. But what about us?”

“That’s a good question. If you want to come along, then I’d be very happy about that. If not, then that’s fine also. It’s entirely up to you; I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, and I’m not just saying that. It really is up to you.”

Shinoda thought for a moment before responding. “I need to know a bit more. This Hartspring; where is he?”

“Last report put him in McNair. General Vaas has organized me a ride in with Major Moore’s 385th Independent Company. Tell you what; why don’t I comm you the order for Operation Tanglevine. That’ll explain everything. Wake me up when you’ve finished.”

Twenty minutes later, Shinoda had finished. She shook Michael awake.

“You done?” Michael said, rubbing eyes gritty and red with fatigue. “What do you reckon?”

“I’d like to think that whoever wrote that op order did it as a joke, but something tells me I’d be wrong.”

“It’s for real, I’m afraid.”

“The unit assigned to Tanglevine, this 385th Independent Company; what do we know about them?”

“It’s been handpicked. All men, of course, since the Hammers don’t have women in combat roles. All ex-marines, most with special forces training. Two rifle platoons, one support and heavy weapons, a headquarters platoon, and a platoon to provide specialized communications, linguistic, and psyops support. About 120 pairs of boots all told.”

“Not a hell of a lot considering what they have to do.”

“General Vaas thinks the keys to success are speed and finesse, not force. He was worried that making the unit larger would just make things too unwieldy.”

“How well do you know the 385th?”

“Very well. I was one of the team who picked them, and I sat in on as many of their exercises as I could. Thanks to a full-size mock-up of the High Temple complex, their training was very realistic. All in all, they’re good, very good.”

“Ah, now I get it,” Shinoda said. “That was why we went there so often.”

“It was. Sorry I was so secretive. Remember when we went over to the Resistance Council? That was where Tanglevine started, and Vaas never let me step away from it.”

“And they’re happy for you go along?”

“I spoke to Major Moore before we left, and yes, he’s happy.”

“And he’d be okay with us too?”

“Yes, but like I said, it’s up to you.”

“Tell you what, sir. It’s a long run to Zulu-36, so let me think about it. We can talk again when we get there. If I’m in, I’ll brief the guys and let you know what they decide.”

“Makes sense. Now, if you don’t mind, I want to catch up on my sleep.”

Tuesday, September 28, 2404, UD
Portal Zulu-36, Branxton base

The approaches to Portal Zulu-36, one of the hundreds that accessed the maze of tunnels, caves, and caverns making up the
NRA
’s Branxton base, were seething with activity. The air was heavy with tension and filled with the nervous murmur of troopers waiting to jump off, the crush made worse by the landers and missile batteries lined up nose to tail.

Michael pushed his way through to where the 385th Independent Company waited for him. “All set?” he asked the 385th’s commander, Major Moore. Michael liked the man. Behind the stern, unforgiving face of the hard-bitten
NRA
veteran—which he was—lay a warm heart and generous spirit, a remarkable thing given the inhuman cruelty DocSec had inflicted on his family.

Moore nodded. “We are,” he said, running his eye across the 385th. “
ENCOMM
’s made a couple of minor tweaks to Tortoise, but they don’t affect us.”

“Pleased to hear it,” Michael said, trying to ignore a sudden attack of nerves that filled his stomach with slowly churning acid, “I just want to get going.”

“Me too,” Moore said. “Now, I’m happy for your guys to give us a hand when we get to McNair, but you don’t have to, you know.”

“Here to help, Major,” Michael said. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Thanks.” Moore looked at Michael’s security detail, whose members were dressed like everyone else, Michael included, in the combat fatigues of Hammer marines. “Even with their visors up you’d never know that two of them were women,” he said with a grin.

“Don’t tell them that.” Michael chuckled. “But I still worry about them compromising the operation, you know, if we’re stopped. Their IDs might say they’re men, but it won’t take long to disprove that.”

“Shit!” Moore said. “I knew there was something I had to tell you. I got word an hour ago. DocSec has just made changes to the way their ID knowledge base works. None of our civilian IDs are any good anymore.”

“They’re not? But what about checkpoints? How will you get through?”

“The old-fashioned way,” Moore said. He lifted his assault rifle with an evil grin. “And it’s not such a problem. Our orders look genuine. Hell, they are genuine, authorized by the 273rd Transport Regiment’s commanding officer himself, not that he knows that. So the marines won’t be checking IDs, and those DocSec pigs aren’t too keen to pull marine convoys over these days, so they won’t be either. They know what happens when they try. Don’t worry; we’ll have no problems getting to McNair.”

“I hope so,” Michael said, looking around for a comm box, “but I need to check if ours are okay.”

“I already have. Your IDs are screwed too. Once you’re in McNair and on your own, they won’t help you if DocSec pulls you over.”

“Damn!” Michael grumbled.

“You’ll be fine. Keep those visors down, look aggressive, and maybe DocSec will leave you alone.”

Then it was time. “Move out,” Moore ordered, and the 385th headed out into a rain-swept night. Michael, Shinoda, and the four members of his security detail fell in behind, the darkness flaring as
NRA
air-defense batteries engaged the flood of incoming Hammer kinetics.

Friday, October 1, 2404, UD
War room, offices of the Supreme Council, McNair