But Grayson was becoming uncomfortable, certain that Claydon had been referring not to what he was doing, but why. In his heart, Grayson knew he was working to create an antiMech infantry unit, not merely to guard Trellwan, but as a tool for bringing down the black and gray Marauder.But revenge or not, if what he did also benefited Trellwan's people, what was the wrong?
A four-wheeled transport squeaked to a stop on the road beside him.
"Grayson! Wait!" Lori climbed out of the transport's cab. "It's all right," she said to the driver. "I'll be with him."
Grayson caught the green-coated driver's answer. "My orders, Sergeant. I'm to stay with you."
Lori's expression was one of frustration as she approached Grayson. A soldier, usually a Royal Guard, watched her whenever she went beyond the Lance HQ or the apartment that had been assigned to her.
"Hello, Lori. What can I do for you?"
"I need to... talk." She glanced over her shoulder at the driver, who had parked the vehicle and stood beside it now, just out of hearing.
Oh, hell, not now, he thought, but he managed a half-smile. "Sure. Walk with me?"
She nodded and fell into step. Her guard followed at a discreet distance.
"What's the problem?"
"What isn't? Grayson, this just isn't going to work!”
“Ah. Cultural problems again?" That was their private code for the difficulties Lori faced working with men from a culture that did not accept women in leadership or military positions.
"And then some! I've been trying to requisition ammo reloads, and those red tape-stuffed bureaucrats won't even talk to me. Insist they want to talk to a quote responsible officer or NCO unquote."
"You show them your warrant?" It had taken a special pass with Jeverid's seal and signature on it to let Lori accomplish much of what she'd had to do.
"Of course. And now there's the problem with Garik."
Garik Enzelman was Lori's former comrade, captured with his Waspat the battle for the spaceport. After talking with Lori, he had agreed to join Grayson's command, but staff officers and even other members of the unit had ferociously resisted the idea.
"Did you get him sprung?"
She nodded. "Finally. They have watchdogs following him around, too."
"I can't really help that, Lori. You have to admit you two could do a lot of damage if you set your minds to it,"
"But they don't seem to understand that we owe Harimandir Singh and his bandits nothing! Nothing! He practically kidnapped us, killed one of our people on the way here..."
Grayson knew this really wasn't the right moment for the discussion. "Look, I'll talk to someone next work period..."
"Gray, I can't take this any more! Either they let me do my job, or I'm..."
He put his hand out. "Wait.
A noise, a low-pitched hum from behind, had alerted him. He turned just in time to see a small, dark-haired man stepping up behind him. For a frozen instant, Grayson tried to place where he'd seen the man before. But there was no time to pursue the thought. The vibroblade in the man's hand was white hot.
20
Grayson stepped back, and the blade swept up past his face leaving a trail of heat and the odor of scorched metal. The blade swung again, Grayson dodged again, and felt a stone wall press into his back. Lori shouted a warning and stepped between Grayson and the attacker.
The attacker stiff-armed Lori to the side. "Out of the way, lady!" But Lori's hands had closed on the man's wrist and elbow, her booted foot smashing into his knee.
The blade hummed through the air toward this new target, but Grayson took the man's right arm in an elbow lock as Lori spun him headfirst into the wall with a sound like eggs cracking. The vibroblade danced on the pavement, gouging out a chunk of ferrocrete as it fell. Then Grayson had pulled the power pack lead and the glowing menace died. His attacker slumped to the ground.
Grayson crouched and probed the man's throat, feeling for a pulse. "He's dead. Neck's broken."
"Damn," Lori said.
"What is it?"
"I didn't mean to kill him. Now we can't find out who he is."
"No matter. I know him."
"Oh?" One eyebrow arched. "Friend of yours?"
He shook his head. "His name is Stefan. He was an astech with the Commandos. The spy who let the bandits into the Castle. He must be working for... who'd you say their leader was?"
"Harimandir Singh. You must be getting on his nerves, if he's singled you out for this kind of special attention."
"Yes," Grayson said softly. "Singh." The name settled cold and hard in his heart. He'd vowed to kill the traitor who had opened the Castle's gates to the enemy. Though it had been Lori who had delivered the killing blow, what mattered was that the man was dead. Yet, Grayson did not feel the satisfaction he'd expected. Instead, the need for revenge was rising again, a blood-burning lust Stefan had been merely Singh's tool, and so Singh was the man he really wanted. But how?
Lori's guard appeared, automatic pistol in hand. "What happened?"
"I might ask you the same thing, trooper. Where the hell were you?"
"It... it happened so fast..."
The adrenalin surge had passed, leaving Grayson suddenly weak, tired. He closed his eyes to the guard's incompetence. "Never mind. You'd better take the sergeant back to her quarters."
"Yessir."
"No, Gray, let me stay with you."
Grayson frowned. He was already late for his meeting with Mara. "No," he told her. "Go with him. I'll see you next work period. I've... got an appointment."
Lori's mouth set into a hard line. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir." She climbed into the front seat of the transport without another glance at Grayson. He knew she was upset, knew she wanted to talk more, but he felt so weak and suddenly tired. Did Singh want his death as much as Grayson wanted Singh's? Perhaps the man did not realize that Grayson's death would not stop the Trellwan Lancers. Though their training was still far below Commonwealth regular military standards or the standards Kai Griffith would have set, the cadre of trained and experienced troops was growing. Even if the bureaucrats wouldn't let Lori drive a 'Mech, several MechWarrior apprentices showed promise, especially the youngest one, Yarin.
Grayson clenched his hands into white-knuckle fists to keep them from trembling. It was just now dawning on him that he'd only very narrowly escaped death. It was the fact that Stefan had ignored Lori because he didn't consider her a threat — probably because she was a woman — that had saved him.
The transport pulled away from the curb and hurried off down the street. Grayson watched it go, then quickened his stride toward Mara's apartment
* * * *
"We don't dare attack, General. It would be suicide, and the end of everything we've built here."
Grayson paced the room before the desk where Varney sat. General Adel watched him from a chair in the corner. Chief Minister Stannic stood by the windows, his back to the group, a glass of something red and potent in his hand.
Grayson was afraid of Stannic. The planet's defense minister had a sharp, abrupt manner, a way of rapping out questions like autocannon fire. And Grayson did not know how much he knew about his daughter's liaison with the offworlder leader of the Trellwan Lancers. Trells were fiercely protective of their wives and daughters, and meetings between the sexes were usually supervised by a matronly female relative called a duennsha. Mara had more freedom and more unsupervised free time than most Trell girls. She had her own apartment next to her father's place on the Hub, and even walked unescorted to her place of work at the Palace offices. Does he know I've been sleeping with her, Grayson wondered?