He watched his holographic battle display, but, as he expected, none of the Wolves on the other side moved. He spotted Conal in the center of the enemy formation and saw the Red Corsair coming up beside him. "It does not have to end this way, Conal."
Conal's derisive laugh burst into Phelan's neurohelmet. "I was wrong when I said you were a Wolf before, Phelan. You are still an Inner Sphere weakling. No Wolf would have offered me a second chance to surrender. If you were a true Wolf, one of us would already be dead."
Phelan flipped his radio over to Tac One. "It is time."
* * *
Nelson Geist steered the stolen hovercar through the streets he had wandered ages ago. The town was not as neat and clean as it had been in the simulation, but he instantly recognized every aspect of it. It sent a shiver down his spine and started him sweating. He stopped the vehicle, got out-and vomited.
He remained on his hands and knees, his chest heaving as his stomach tried to purge itself. He mentally demanded that it stop. I am here for a purpose.He wiped his mouth on his left sleeve. She had contempt for me. She saw me as weak. I amnot weak!
Reaching up, he grabbed the edge of the hovercar and pulled himself to his feet. From the car he took the pump shotgun and jacked a shell into the chamber. The weapon dangled from his right hand by the pistolgrip as he stalked across the empty plaza toward the main building. "I know where you are. I have you. You are mine."
* * *
The Kell Hound close assault lances entered the gap between the two forces as their fire support lances sent flight after flight of missiles arcing up and over them. Chris Kell fought the leftward rotation of his charging Thunderboltwhen its shoulder-mounted LRM launcher sent a flight of fifteen missiles at the enemy. Keeping his crosshairs steady on the Clintthat was his target, he let go with his extended range large laser and the trio of medium pulse lasers in his arsenal.
Two of the pulse lasers missed at that range, but the third slashed open the armor on the Clint'sright arm. Semi-molten armor plates dropped to the ground, exposing metal bones, synthetic muscles, and the complex mechanism of the 'Mech's particle projection cannon. The Thunderbolt'slarge laser thrust a green energy beam into the Clint'schest, melting away all but a thin armor veneer.
Four of the missiles Chris had launched slammed home in the same spot, blasting away the last of the armor and causing some internal damage. When another set of missiles savaged the armor on the 'Mech's right leg, Chris thought the machine had wobbled a bit, but it stayed upright.
The Clint'sreturn fire hit the Thunderbolthard, the PPC devouring nearly a ton of armor on the left side of the 'Mech's chest. The two pulse lasers mounted in the Clint'storso converged on the Thunderbolt'smidline. They cut bubbling furrows in the armor over the big 'Mech's heart, but failed to breach it. Chris successfully fought the unbalancing effect of losing so much armor, and kept his 'Mech charging forward.
* * *
Nelson Geist spat on the tile floor of the dimly lit corridor. Down below the surface of the planet the heat was intense, and he felt sweat soaking his shirt. Droplets of perspiration also ran down his temples and speckled his upper lip. He licked it off, then wiped his half-hand on his pants before returning it to the shotgun's pump.
As he crept down the hallway toward the forbidden corridor, a nervous smile stole over his face. If I were in a 'Mech, I would have a cooling vest and I would be bone-dry in a cockpit five times as hot as this.He glanced down and checked for the hundredth time to see that the gun's safety was off.
Turning the corner Nelson felt a constriction in his throat. He nearly panicked, imagining for a second that somehow the shock-collar had been again fitted around his neck. His half-hand clawed at his collar, but when he felt only flesh and the burning rake of his fingernails, he leaned back against the wall. This time there is nothing to stop you.
He wiped stinging sweat out of his eyes and resumed his trek to the end of the corridor. There, just as he had seen in the simulation, stood two closed doors. Almost closed,he corrected himself. A thin bar of yellowish light separated the doors. His smile returned, but his teeth clamped down to stifle any cry of triumph that might escape him.
Step by step, meter by meter, he paced his way forward silently. He forced himself to breathe through his nose, searching the musty dry air for any hint of her, but the only scent was the stink of his own vomit and perspiration. As he exhaled, the droplets of sweat that had collected around his nostrils sprayed down over his hands.
Nearing the doors he heard a pair of clicks. He glanced back the way he'd come, fearing the approach of guards armed to cut him down on the threshold of his goal. He saw no one and nothing behind him and realized that the noise had come from the room. He ran the sounds through his mind and could think of no weapon that sounded quite like that when cocked. Sounded more like the latches on a briefcase being opened.
Nelson took one last deep breath as he pushed the left door open noiselessly. In his time on the Tigressand in countless nightmares afterward he had imagined incredible and horrible things in the room beyond those doors. Torture chambers, a hall of horrors, a trophy room decorated with bits and pieces of individuals the Red Corsair had defeated, with the missing half of his hand featured prominently. Yet whatever he had imagined in fevered, malevolent dreams, none of it approached the malignant reality.
As he entered the room, the Red Corsair twisted the head of the cylinder she had inserted into the blocky device built into the wall. The yellow and black safety tabs came away as her motion locked the cylinder in place. She tossed the tabs aside, then smiled as she looked up and saw him. "I thought it might be you."
Nelson looked from her to the briefcase on the desk in front of her and then to the thing on the wall. The warning symbol on the back of the briefcase was one he knew from his cadet training so long ago. Though he could not see into the case, he knew it had a soft foam bed with a cutout to hold the cylinder in place because, as his instructor had said, "nuclear mine triggers are not built to be banged around."
A nuclear mine? This whole valley, everything, will be destroyed. She is mad!
"It's me." Nelson motioned with the gun and the Red Corsair raised her hands. "It's over for you."
The Red Corsair shook her head. "You will not kill me, Nelson Geist."
"I won't? You're here assembling a nuclear device that will wipe out everything in this valley, save those in the bunkers built into the mountains. You're beyond mad, you're evil. There is nothing you could say that would stop me from killing you."
She smiled carefully. "I love you, Nelson Geist." Her hands slowly fell to caress her stomach through her cooling vest. "I am carrying your child."
* * *
From the first exchange the battle began to go exactly the way Phelan knew it had to. The Thirty-first Wolf Solahma had begun to retreat before the gap could be closed. Their goal was obviously to pull back into the mountain stronghold and fight from there, but Conal had established his line too far forward. He must have forgotten that the Hounds are equipped with weapons like ours—weapons salvaged from the Smoke Jaguars and Nova Cats after the battle for Luthien.