“But you did secure prisoners? Any of account?”
“How should I know? Word is-again through Geeky-that the city manager, or whatever the hell he is, hauled his ass outta here with the ‘special warriors,’ whatever the hell that means. No word on General Grik, the guy in overall command. Maybe he knocked himself off like all the rest we’ve come across. Hope so. He’s no Napoleon, but he was startin’ to bark up some of the right trees.”
“Naa-po-leon?”
“Skip it.”
“What is the situation now?”
“Pretty much unchanged from my last wireless report. Victory in the mountains, but those forces didn’t come back here as I’d hoped. We were waiting if they did. General Maraan says they disengaged and retreated in an orderly fashion! Must’ve headed north.”
“I would wager that is where your ‘General Grik’ was.”
Pete sighed. “Probably o. His stunt almost worked, you know? I can hope his bones are smashed under one of the goofy buildings they build around here, that First Fleet knocked flat. At least for a while.” He held up his hand. “I ain’t going to count on it, just hope it!” He grinned.
“You are pleased with the fleet’s gunnery?”
“Oh, you bet. Naval Air did a great job too. Whatever they used to knock those planes down this morning wasn’t here. They must’ve cobbled’em together in a hurry and taken them all. Bet we see ’em again, though, so the Airedales need to watch out. Anyway, like I said, the city’s knocked flat. Grik don’t go in much for fancy digs. Mostly adobe, either kind of sensible multistory, rectangular structures, or like… I don’t know, domes, I guess. Not much reinforcing. There’re a couple of exceptions, big buildings made of stone. You clobbered a couple; the forts overlooking the harbor, but there are more that didn’t take such a beating. Look like temples or something.” Pete shook his head. “I have some squads going through those, rooting out some really wild lizards, but maybe we’ll find something useful. I’ll send another squad with Geeky once the holdouts are hacked out. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to the little shit; he’s the only interpreter to the other Grik we caught.”
“Yes, and not only those, but the ones being held in Baalkpan all this time! How many did you take alive?” Keje asked.
“Altogether?” Pete’s expression turned to stone. “You know, I gave strict orders that nobody risk his life to take prisoners. Most think that seeing a Grik is too risky to let it live, and you know, I’m fine with that after the hell we’ve had trying to take ’em in the past. Some of the Ma-nilos and Sularans actually went out of their way to capture a few in ‘fancy dress,’ like I sorta asked.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll never do that again.” He looked at Keje. “They captured nine, all civvies, who might’ve been willing to fold anyway, like Geeky, but the warriors defended ’em or killed ’em themselves. I’m pretty sure they killed more Grik here today than we did! As soon as it went in the pot, it was as if they had orders to kill every one of their own people they could catch! It cost me almost thirty good troops to capture-hell, rescue -nine of those lizard bastards. Regardless of what we might learn from ’em, it ain’t worth it, and I’ll never ask it again! Kill ’em all; that’s what they’d do.”
Keje said nothing for a long moment. He knew Pete was angry; so was he. Nine out of a city of thousands! But he also knew the Marine would see reason… if they ever needed prisoners again. “So… how do you think we should proceed from here?” he asked.
“There’s still fighting in the northern part of the city, so I don’t know how much of the industrial works we’ll get-whatever it is-but there’re fires even farther north, farther than our deepest penetration, so it looks as though they’re wrecking what they can.”
“Hmm. Further evidence this ‘General Grik’ has escaped, I fear,” Keje said.
“Well… yeah, maybe so.”
Keje looked out at the ruined city in the dark. Some parts burned brightly while others smoldered like coals in a fire. “We must pursue,” he said simply. “We have a chance to annihilate them in the northern plains before they cross the land bridge to Indiaa.”
“You got it, Admiral,” Alden said. “That’s what I was going to suggest. We needto finish rooting this dump out, but we can handle that and be back on the move in a few days. If you head north along the coast, bomb or shell anything you see, then park your ships to cover that low-tide causeway…”
“If the water is deep enough…”
“Well, sure. Anyway, we can sweep up behind you, guided by the ‘Nancys,’ and maybe we can catch ’em between us, out of hope, out of gas, out of supplies and artillery, and hopefully by then, out of their goddamn minds!”
CHAPTER 20
New Dublin
The battle for New Dublin raged furiously throughout the rest of the night as the Doms fell back toward the bastion in the northwest part of the city. Chack, Silva, and Lawrence rejoined the companies pushing north with Jindal, and after a brief meeting when Silva told them what they’d seen from the air-and Lawrence squirmed under the amazed scrutiny of strangers-the push resumed with a better idea of what they faced. More and more townsfolk, either honestly rising to aid in their liberation or cynically taking what appeared to be the winning side, swelled Chack’s and Jindal’s ranks to the point that they finally reestablished communications with Blair’s larger force on what had become the allied left. He’d known they were coming through the coastal suburbs and palatial estates of the elite by the numbers of Doms-and their sympathizers-streaming past his own right toward the bastion. When the flood became a trickle, he knew the linkup was at hand, and he and his staff met them as the moon began to fade in the brightening sky. The entire allied line was finally reestablished among the affluent-and far less congested-homes southeast of the bastion between the mountains and the glimmering, graying sea.
“We meet again, Mr. Silva!” Blair said, extending his hand.
“We do?” Dennis asked, clasping it, and shaking vigorously.
“Well… yes. I was but a lieutenant of Marines at the time, but we met at a quaint dining establishment in Baalkpan before I sailed with Commodore Jenks and the squadron bound for the west.”
“Zat so?”
“Perhaps you’ll remember later,” Blair said uncomfortably. He saluted Chack. “A most interesting night. I’m glad you’re well, sir. I apologize for the… disorganized nature of the assault.”
“I’m glad you made it, Mr. Blair. And as for the confusion”-Chack blinked-“my Marines have never fought a battle like this before either.”
“Yeah,” said Silva. “More like a drawn-out street brawl in Olongapo-with no SPs-than any battle I ever saw.”
“What’s the situation here?” Chack asked.
“The enemy has skirmishers in the dwellings ahead, but the greatest threat is that they’ve massed their artillery on this front of the bastion.”
“If we could flank the fort, they’d be at our mercy,” Chack observed.
“True, but we can’t move along the cliffs on this side of the mountains. The slopes are bare and within range of their guns. They would see the movement and merely shift their batteries accordingly. And even if we could embark enough troops on ships in all this chaos to get beyond the fort, we’d have to take them nearly to Bray-which is in enemy hands-before we reach a suitable place to land them.”
“Mortars?”
“Most of the crews brought their weapons up to the edge of the city, hoping to support our movements, but we had no contact with them through the night. They showed admirable initiative, and would have saved us if we’d been repelled,” he admitted, “but their utility now is questionable. They’re low on ammunition, and they haven’t the range of artillery. If we move them close enough to drop their bombs into the bastion, they’ll be slaughtered.”