War To The Knife (8 page)

As they drew nearer to the front part of the mountain where the base’s main entrance had been, they noticed a flickering light reflected off the trees and bushes at the foot of the slope. As they eased around a big rock, they saw a group of heavy vehicles laagered up in a circle around a blazing camp fire. A score of soldiers were sitting around, eating, drinking and talking, the low rumble of their voices barely audible at this distance.

Dave shook his head disapprovingly. “Staring into a big fire like that, they’ve all ruined their night vision,” he murmured.

“Good,” Corporal Hansen muttered emphatically. “Let’s hope they never get it back!”

Chuckling softly, they moved very carefully down the hillside to get closer. Dave called a halt in a group of boulders about a hundred and twenty meters above where the main entrance to the base had been, and about a hundred and forty from the fire. “We’ll set up here,” he whispered. “Stretch the camo net above us. Set up the parabolic microphone between those two rocks, and don’t forget to switch on the recorder. Let’s try to find out what they’re doing here.”

It took several minutes of cautious, agonizingly slow work to silently conceal themselves against observation by passing hoversats and set up the equipment. They linked their earpieces to the parabolic microphone’s receiver and settled down to listen.

Underlying all the talking at the fire was a constant low rumble, interspersed with sharper impacts and sounds, coming from inside the mountain. They could feel the vibrations through the rock even as they heard the sounds with their ears. A constant dusty plume was coming out of the old entrance to the base and being carried away by the evening breeze. The soldiers around the fire were talking desultorily about the usual topics – the lousy Army, food, the weather, the damned Army, the opposite sex, their families, and the bloody Army. They hushed as a radio operator stuck his head out of a truck festooned with aerials. He was wearing headphones. “The Colonel’s ten minutes out,” he called towards the fire. “He wants us to illuminate his landing area.”

“Got it,” a tall figure called from the entrance to a large tent pitched between two vehicles. “Landing party, let’s go!”

He led a group of four soldiers to a clear patch of ground about a hundred meters from the vehicles. They split up, and soon a strobe light began flashing brightly in the darkness. Adjusting their night vision visors, they could see it was at the tip of an infra-red beam shining horizontally along the ground. Seconds later another beam sprang to life at right angles to the first, making a plus sign with their intersection in the center of the clearing.

Far in the distance and high above the ground, a bright white light came on. Within a few moments the growing rumble of reaction thrusters began to make the air tremble. From out of the night sky a black-painted assault shuttle swept over the camp, circled the improvised landing area once, then touched down, rocking gently on its gel-filled tires. As its reaction thrusters stuttered into silence its rear ramp whined down and four black-clad Security Service troops ran down it, spreading out, aiming their weapons with fierce determination at every shadow in the darkness – including the soldiers. Through the parabolic microphone they heard the tall man’s softly-voiced exclamation of disgust as he strode towards them. “Bloody SS clowns! When are they going to figure out that combat outfits just laugh at them when they pretend to be heroes?” His voice was attenuated by the greater distance to the landing site, but could still be made out clearly.

Another tall, spare figure walked down the ramp, also in a black uniform, but with an ornate silver crown on his epaulettes. The first man snapped to attention and saluted stiffly. “Captain Amesha reports to Colonel Kujula as ordered,
Sir!”

“Good evening, Captain.” The senior officer’s voice was dry, brittle. “Why are your engineers out here around the fire, instead of in the base digging?”

“Sir, half of my contingent
is
in the base digging. There’s no room for more of us to fit inside, due to the extent of the destruction and the need for space around our heavy machinery. We’ll relieve them at twenty-two, to let them sleep through the night. We’ll work until zero-six-hundred, when they’ll relieve us again.”

The Colonel seemed to relax slightly. “I see. Is the excavation progressing well?”

“Much faster than I expected, Sir. The troops who took this place weren’t combat engineers, so they weren’t experts at demolition. Their charges brought down a layer of rock from the roof and walls of the stronghold, but didn’t completely collapse the caves and tunnels. Our laser cutters and rubble removers are making short work of it. We’re already more than fifty meters inside, disposing of the debris in a largely intact side cavern. We should reach the Commanding Officer’s tunnel within a few hours if the information your prisoner provided is correct.”

“Oh, it’s correct, Captain, be in no doubt about that. See for yourself.” He gestured back into the interior of his assault shuttle. The other officer looked, and his face contorted in…
is that disgust?
Dave wondered to himself.

The man bit back a muffled exclamation, clearly afraid of saying the wrong thing. He settled for “What did you do to him, Sir? He looks like death warmed up!”

“That’s not a bad description. Lieutenant-Colonel Yardley was the rebel Commanding Officer here. He was badly wounded in the initial assault and collapsed. It was thought he was dead, but some of our medics found him still breathing and recognized from his insignia that I’d want him kept that way. They flew him straight to hospital in Tapuria in an assault shuttle, and he was dragged back from the brink of death over the next few weeks. Four days ago he was finally fit enough for my interrogators to take over. Have you ever seen them at work, Captain?”

“Ah… no, Sir.” Now Dave was sure of it – that really was thinly veiled disgust on his face. It was the expression of a man with at least some standards when confronted with the unspeakable.

“They start by injecting a special drug in a quantity carefully metered according to the subject’s gender and body mass. It has the effect of stimulating every nerve ending, making them exquisitely sensitive. While they’re waiting for it to take effect they fit the subject with a head cover containing a neurocranial network, designed to administer direct stimulation to the pain and pleasure centers of the brain. When the drug has taken effect they begin alternately pleasuring and hurting him. His chemically enhanced nervous system magnifies the signals enormously, and they’re amplified again by the neurocranial network. They’re absolutely unbearable. Nobody can resist for more than twenty-four hours in my experience, and then only the toughest and most determined of men. Most crack within four to six hours. Despite his injuries and weakened condition, he took eleven hours to break and begin to talk – a remarkable performance under the circumstances.”

“I see, Sir,” the Captain said slowly. “I presume he provided the information that led you to order us here?”

“He did, and I brought him along in case he can provide more while we’re here. It seems the rebels have distributed what they laughably call ‘evidence’ of some of our anti-terrorist actions among several of their bases. He was the custodian of one package of it. We know where he hid it in his office, and I’m here to get it. While we’re doing that, the Military Governor is preparing assaults on their other three major bases – Yardley knew them all, and now we know them too. We’re conducting reconnaissance to gather more information, and we’ll hit them all simultaneously in five days. With any luck, we’ll break the back of the Resistance forever.”

“That’s good news,” the other said feelingly. “No matter how the information was obtained, we need to finish this thing. Since we invaded they’ve cost us over fifteen thousand dead and twice that many injured, many of them maimed for life – and heaven only knows the cost in equipment and military expenditure! The sooner we finish the war, the sooner we can all go home.”

“I appreciate your desire to return to Bactria, Captain, but we’ll need a sizeable garrison here for the foreseeable future,” the Colonel reproved him. “None of us can be sure when our services will no longer be required on Laredo.”

“Yes, of course, Sir.”

“You brought a senior officer’s accommodation van for me?”

“Yes, Sir. If you wish, I’ll escort you there now.”

“Very well. I’ll have my own guards with me during the night, of course. Two will be on watch outside my quarters at all times. My interrogators and the shuttle crew will stay here with the prisoner.” As he spoke, he motioned to the armed men who’d preceded him down the ramp. One ran back up it and emerged again holding a suitcase.

“As you wish, Sir.”

“There’s no sign of any enemies in the vicinity?”

“No, Sir. We’ve had hoversats out all day sweeping the area, and none of them have picked up a thing. It looks like any of the rebels who survived the destruction of their base have long gone.”

“Good. We’ll be able to sleep in peace then.”

Dave watched them make their way back to the fire, his mind whirling with shock and disbelief. Beside him Sergeant Kane murmured, “What do we do now, Sir?”

“You got all that on the recorder?”

“I sure did.”

“Good. Let’s head back to the cave very carefully so they don’t hear us. We’ve got to get this news to General Allred at once, if not sooner! After that, we’ve got plans to make.”

~ ~ ~

Tamsin oriented the satellite dish along the bearing Dave had given her. She adjusted it carefully, and nodded as a tone began to warble in her earphones. “The dish is aligned,” she told him as she locked it into position on its tripod.

“Great!” He consulted his watch. “It’s almost time. Mac’s people are supposed to listen out on the emergency channel from 11:45 until noon and 23:45 until midnight. Let’s see if they’re awake.”

“They’d better be!”

“I trust Mac. He was our satellite comms supervisor before the invasion, after all. He always said the Bactrians were fools to simply leave our own satellites in orbit and use them, rather than replace them with their own, because they’d never be able to figure out all the back doors we’d built into them unless they physically examined them.”

“Hey, at a time like this I’ll take all the back doors we can get!”

Grinning at her rejoinder, he connected his comm unit to the dish and raised it to his lips. “BOLUS calling TANTO, emergency, over.” He waited for a few moments, then repeated the call.

An answering carrier wave crackled in their earpieces. “TANTO to BOLUS, authenticate Papa X-Ray Tango, over.”

Dave entered the three characters on his comm unit’s virtual keyboard and read off the response. “BOLUS to TANTO, authenticating Golf Zulu Delta, over.”

“TANTO to BOLUS, authenticated, go ahead, over.”

He began reading from the piece of paper on which he’d carefully composed his message. “BOLUS to TANTO, be advised BILE, EAGLE and RAPID for WELLINGTON, HINDENBURG and WASHINGTON. I say again, BILE, EAGLE and RAPID for WELLINGTON, HINDENBURG and WASHINGTON. This information is verified CHROME, I say again, this information is verified CHROME. Timeline for RAPID is BASE minus three BAXTER, I say again, timeline for RAPID is BASE minus three BAXTER. Request HAWKEYE on this circuit. Over.”

A brief pause. “TANTO to BOLUS, I understand BILE, EAGLE and RAPID for WELLINGTON, HINDENBURG and WASHINGTON, information CHROME, timeline BASE minus three BAXTER. HAWKEYE approved. Over.”

“BOLUS to TANTO, thank you. BOLUS out.” He folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket, then disconnected his comm unit. “That’s it.”

As she collapsed the satellite dish, Tamsin shook her head. “All those code words! What were you saying?”

“Bolus is my code name on this mission and Tanto is our communications center. Wellington, Hindenburg and Washington are code words for our remaining three major bases – this one was Bonaparte before it fell to the enemy. Bile means betrayal, Eagle means surveillance, and Rapid means attack. Using those words in reference to anything or anyone makes the meaning obvious. Chrome means that the information is absolutely reliable. Base is a number used as a reference by adding or subtracting a figure from it. For this date base is eight, and Baxter means days, so I just told them that the three bases would be assaulted five days from now. Hawkeye means I can call again anytime on this circuit. They’ll mount a permanent listening watch in case I come up with more information.”

“Complicated, but useful. Anyone listening in wouldn’t know what you were saying unless they knew the code words.”

“That’s the whole idea. Now, let’s get back to the others and make some plans.”

“But what can ten of us – eleven including you – do against what must be about sixty of them?”

“Quite a lot, if we play our cards right. Don’t forget, half of them will be working deep inside the mountain at any time, so initially we’ve only got to deal with the other half of them at the camp. Most will be asleep, except for some sentries. We’ll see about those inside the tunnel once we’ve dealt with those outside. Besides, no matter how many of them there are, I’ll be damned if I’ll leave Lieutenant-Colonel Yardley in their hands! You have stim-tabs in the airvan?”

“Of course, in the med kit.”

“We’re going to need them to stay awake tonight. We’d better have everybody take one while we talk.”

March 4th 2850 GSC

MATOPO HILLS

Dave crouched behind a bush and adjusted his night vision visor. The coals of the fire lent a strange reddish cast to the scene through its sensors, even though the flames had long since died down. He turned his head to Corporal Hansen next to him, touched him on the shoulder and pointed to the nearest armored car, its turret moving slowly from side to side as the person on watch inside scanned the perimeter of the camp. Fortunately, their thermally-neutral battledress could not be picked up by its sensors.

Hansen nodded silently, tapping the grenades in pouches on his chest. No words were necessary – they’d gone through everything before leaving the cave. Dave was about to move away towards his own target when the vehicle’s turret stopped moving. Its hatch swung open and clanged against the stop. A drowsy voice called from among the sleeping figures around the embers, “Shut up, dammit!”