The tanks slowed and stopped, their lasers tracking new targets.
At first, Grayson had thought the explosions were the Hawk'smissiles, but it was something else. Small containers, possibly glass, were being hurtled from the jungle's edge, breaking over the tanks' backs or on the surface of the water. When they broke, fire billowed skyward. Where the fire touched the water already lapping at the tanks' treads, it spread, burning furiously.
Skimmers burst from the jungle, just clearing the mud and shallow water. Men rode those skimmers. Some carried guns, but most were hurling containers at the Galleons, then ducking low to pick up and light another.
Grayson recognized the weapon. It was a glass bottle filled with a mixture of gasoline and oil, the neck stuffed shut with a strip of cloth soaked in the mixture. When the cloth was lit and the bottle hurled, it became an effective grenade. Such weapons had been used by resistance forces against tanks on Terra long before man ventured to the stars.
"Go, Lori! Go! This is our chance!"
Brasednewic's rebels splashed among the trees near the water's edge, firing steadily to keep the crewmen buttoned up tight inside their vehicles. The skimmers circled, hungry. Another tank was alight The others were retreating, and all but two had strayed into muddy ground already meter-deep in the incoming tide. One struggled, its engine racing. The other sat motionless with its deck already awash.
The Shadow Hawk'slast LRM sighed from its tube, the weapon status light for that tube flashing green to red. A Galleon exploded Fragments of armor rained into the water in a widening circle around the tank. Smoke mushroomed from it, casting rippling shadows across sand and jungle.
Firing into the retreating enemy forces, Debrowski's Waspand the Wolverinestrode through smoky water that was knee-deep on the ‘Mechs.
"All ‘Mechs!" Grayson said, his voice unnaturally loud in the close, hot cabin of the Hawk."All ‘Mechs! Break off pursuit!"
Jaleg Yorulis protested from his Wasp."But Captain! We've got 'em running!"
"They're running, all right, right back under the cover of those DropShips. Break off!"
Grayson fought down his own surge of battlelust Their victory was complete, or as complete as they were likely to manage with a pair of heavily armed DropShips backing up the enemy. Missiles ratcheted overhead from the enemy landing zone, exploding in sand and fury behind them.
Grayson gave the order to withdraw.
11
Clay in his Wolverinewas already helping McCall's Riflemanto its feet. Grayson winced when he saw the damage the Riflemanhad sustained, and his mind began cycling furiously through what he would say to McCall. He had ordered the Caledonian to watch for aircraft, but the man must have been so absorbed by the ground battle that he'd completely missed the Kurita SL-15's strafing run from his rear. That mistake could have been fatal. It might well have ruined the unit's heaviest ‘Mech.
A muted roar from the east warned of the Kurita force's departure. Both DropShips hovered on laboring thrusters, then turned and arced slowly off toward the south above the jungle. Explosions and a rising pall of smoke marked where supplies unloaded during the battle had been destroyed lest they fall into rebel hands or tempt a rebel attack during reloading. As the sound of the Leopard'sdeparture faded, a new sound began rising from the beach and surrounding jungle growth. It took Grayson a moment to recognize that it was the sound of men and women, cheering.
Grayson touched the Shadow Hawk'scanopy release panel, and swung it open. The outside air, tropically hot and damp, rushed into the Hawk'scockpit like an autumn wind, dry and deliciously cool compared to the hothouse humidity inside. He hung against the overhead stanchions a moment, gulping the air, suddenly aware of how good fresh air smelled compared to the stench of his and Lori's sweat and fear. The sharp scent of scorched armor also flavored the fresh air. Pings, pops, and creakings of hot metal rose from the Shadow Hawk'sweapons tubes and from scarred and scorched patches of armor where, briefly, megajoules of laser energy had touched.
The cheers continued to sound around him, clearer now than when he'd heard them through the ‘Mech's external pick-ups. Both rebels and mercenary troops were emerging from the jungle, splashing through the shallow, high-tide water, or standing in animated knots among the boles and roots of beach-edge trees and jungle plants. Some exchanged slaps on the back or vigorous handshakes, and many were engaged in animated discussion of the battle just past. Sergeant Ramage and Tollen Brasednewic were trotting side by side at the head of a mixed squad of troops in the direction of the nearest stranded Galleon. The tank's crew was already climbing out, moving clumsily with their hands in the air.
Lori locked the Shadow Hawkin place and cracked her helmet, letting Grayson help her swing it off her shoulders and into its rack above her seat Her hair fell in lank, damp strands across her shoulders. She shook her head and wiped wet hair from her eyes.
"Pretty good for someone who was sure she would fail," he said gently. In truth, he'd completely forgotten his concern about Lori's fears once the battle had begun. She had acted coolly, professionally, without hesitation.
She replied with a smile, though her eyes were guarded. Lori, too, reveled a moment in the cool breeze moving through the open cockpit before fishing a towel out of an equipment locker under her seat to sop the sweat from her face and neck. When she had finished, Grayson used the towel himself. His own uniform was as soaked as her brief attire, and far less comfortable. It didn't cool as the air blew over it, but bunched, chafed, and sent sudden rivulets of sweat tickling down his spine and sides. The water below looked inviting, and he longed for a swim. For the moment, he was too weak to do anything more than hang on and breathe.
Nearby, Grayson saw McCall and Clay leaning from the opened hatches of their own machines. The light ‘Mech pilots were still relatively fresh, not having sustained combat as long as the heavies. They now stood guard in the quickening tide as a Kurita pilot climbed out of one of the two captured Stingers.The other Stinger,still flat on its back, had taken a round in the head. Smoke still wisped above the gore-shocked scar where the ‘Mech's cockpit had been.
Lori smoothed wet hair back from her face. "Captain, if you'd excuse me, I'd like to get dressed."
Grayson smiled. "Pardon me for barging into your dressing room, and thanks for the ride." He reached up and punched the winch release that dropped the Shadow Hawk'sladder, then lowered himself to the ground, careful to avoid hot spots on the ‘Mech's armor.
The water under the Hawkwas knee-deep on him and felt wonderful when he splashed it across his face.
* * * *
"My Lord, there was no way we could have reached Hunter's Cape with more ‘Mechs or tanks. There were only two DropShips available, and small ones at that." Stiffly at attention, Kevlavic stood in Nagumo's office at the University of Regis, his eyes focused at the greenish sky through the window behind the Governor General's shoulder. He swallowed once before adding, "We did not expect such fierce resistance. Lord. We thought to find only battered survivors of the DropShip's crash. We were met by accurate and concentrated fire from at least two enemy ‘Mech lances—and possibly a full company. They were supported by a large and powerful guerrilla force with whom they must have established contact moments before our arrival."