There were others though, like Jack, who were continually tormented by their imaginations, inwardly flinching as each bullet flickered past, who awoke in the middle of the night, sheets sweat-soaked, the nightmare of what could be twisting into their fluttering hearts. As he looked at Jack he felt a surge of admiration, knowing that Jack’s type of courage was far more difficult to grasp and maintain. Every day he had to mask that terror and go out to face death yet again.
Jack, his hand trembling, reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper.
“I was never much of one for being a gentleman with the girls. Remember the Oneida Society back before the war? Actually tried to join it. I did, but they said I was too young then.”
He laughed softly, and Andrew smiled.
“She’s a girl in Roum, works in Ninth Corps main hospital. Took care of me right after I crashed back in the spring. Funny, she’s suddenly very important to me now, so see that she gets this.”
Andrew solemnly took the letter, knowing it was senseless to try and talk differently at a time like this.
“Jack, I wish I could let you stand down from this one. But you’re the only one who can lead it. That’s why I asked you to fly back here. These boys are so green I was afraid they couldn’t find Tyre unless you were there to shepherd them along.”
Jack smiled weakly. “I know, and believe me, I’d take the offer if I thought I could.”
“Jack, in all honesty, is there a chance for this one? I mean Vincent seems to believe in it. Hans, well of course he’d do it. We’ve done desperate things in the past, but this is a throw in the dark.”
Jack looked at him silently, and Andrew regretted his few seconds of weakness. He had pulled Jack aside to gently tell him to brace up in front of the others, and he was asking for reassurance instead.
“As long as we limit it to what we agreed on. I know Hans wants to push it all the way, but sir, the ships simply don’t have the range. I can’t ask the boys flying the ships to go on a one-way trip with no hope of survival. Stick to the original idea, and there just might be a chance. If we had three or four times as many airships, a real fleet of a couple of hundred of them, I’d guarantee we’d do it. That’d mean we’d have a full brigade of troops rather than barely a regiment. At the very least, though, it will throw one hell of a punch into their supplies and might take the pressure off at the front.”
Andrew nodded. That had been the big fight argued out all week. Varinna’s plan called for a two-step approach, the second phase not being launched unless the first half went flawlessly and a truly secure base was seized to operate out of. The morning after the decision was made to go Hans started the argument that it had to be done all at once. Andrew could understand the argument about surprising Jurak and not giving him time to react, but he knew as Hans most certainly knew that it was suicide to try.
And yet he could sense what Hans would indeed do once he was out there. The first phase was, at best, a spoiling raid, to swoop down on the Bantag port city of Xi’an, smash things up, sink ships, and destroy supplies. Vincent’s mission was to act as bait to draw troops and better yet ironclads out of Xi’an before the air attack hit. The goal, if it could be achieved, was for Vincent to cut all the way to the Great Sea and secure a base for airships and perhaps even for oceangoing ships captured at Xi’an.
But it was still only half a victory. If they could actually hold Xi’an, transferring troops by sea from Vincent’s force to reinforce the captured city, Jurak would be cut off from his supplies and forced to abandon all of the Roum territory all the way back to the Great Sea. He’d have to pull back all the way to Nippon. It would be a tremendous victory … but the Bantag army would still be intact, the war machine still working and ready to come back yet again. What Hans wanted was to take it all the way, but he felt he could never order that, for such an action would surely result in the death of all those who attempted it. It could mean, as well, that in attempting to reach for everything, Jurak could counterstrike and smash the plan apart.
Andrew took Jack’s hand and grasped it tightly.
“Fly carefully.”
“The soul of caution I’ve always been. It’s how I’ve made it to twenty-eight very old years.”
Coming stiffly to attention Jack saluted. “Sir, I think it’s about time we got the show moving, so if you’ll excuse me.
Andrew returned to his small group. While he had been talking with Jack, Vincent rode in. As usual he was dressed in his “Phil Sheridan” uniform, oversize riding boots, snowy white gauntlets, uniform with a bit too much gold braiding, rakish kepi, and still the ridiculous pointed goatee and mustache.
Andrew could see the boy was eager to be returning to MEN OF WAR 117
the front. He would have preferred that Vincent stay in Suzdal, but given the assassination attempt on his father-in-law Andrew now felt that it was best to get him out of town for a while. If not the target of an assassin’s bullet, Vincent could, on the other hand, do something rash. And besides, given what he was contemplating doing, Vincent’s presence in the city simply wouldn’t fit into the plan.
It was indeed getting to the time for departure. For days he had agonized about this moment.
The engines on most of the airships were now turning over, shattering the predawn quiet as pilots revved each one up in turn, let them run full out for several minutes, then throttled them back down to idle.
Vincent was eager to be off. He had already said his good-byes to his family; it was part of his nature never to let that side of his life show anymore. There was no sense in going over the plan one more time. Vincent had conceived part of it, especially the land ironclad assault out of Tyre. He knew it far better than Andrew.
The salute was casual, as if he was leaving for morning inspection of a company.
“It’ll work, sir,” Vincent said. “I promise you that.”
Andrew nodded, and the boy was off, heading to his airship, his chosen staff following. He had abandoned his cane and walked slowly, with a pronounced limp. Now it was just Hans and Varinna and she mumbled something about going to check one of the ships and left the two alone.
Hans sighed and slowly sat down on the grass, motioning for Andrew to join him.
Hans smiled and Andrew suddenly felt a terrible longing, somehow to turn the clock back, to make it all as it once was so many years before, and to hide from the knowledge of all that would be. Hans had aged, his hair going to white, his teeth crooked, stained dark yellow, several of them gone or turned to black, his skin no longer tanned and leathery but now waxy. He had never really admitted to himself just how much the years of prison had changed Hans. In so many ways they had softened him, made him more open to saying what was in his heart, but be had lost pis tireless vitality as well. Yet, at this moment he felt as if Hans was summoning back that strength for one more effort.
“The war’s lost, Andrew. We’ve fought the good fight for God knows how many years. We’ve held three empires at bay, but now they’re closing in. But in order for them to do that they had to change, too, and that is where they are vulnerable.
“Before, it was like striking at a nest of bees. We had to cut them down one at a time until there were none left. Andrew, we’ve forced them in a way to become like us, and in so doing we now have the opening. We can reach into the nest, crush the queen, and the eggs and the nest dies.”
Hans became animated as he spoke, his eyes locked on Andrew’s.
“Don’t you think he’s figured that,” Andrew replied, “and taken the necessary precautions?”
“Surprise will be on our side. We maintain that element, and we win. The part of the plan involving Vincent seems like folly, but it will be the focus for just long enough that it will keep them off-balance. Then the rest of it goes in. He’ll suspect the air support is for Vincent. By the time he realizes, we’ll be on him.