“Where?”
“I spent six months fighting the insurgents on Chantemesle. We stopped them there, but we lost half the platoon to IEDs and stupid ambushes like that one. I only got promoted to team leader because everyone else in the team was dead, or lying in a regeneration tank for months to rebuild their bodies.”
They entered a gap between two houses at the edge of the village. Logan studied the thick dirt piles on both sides of him for any sign that someone had dug into the dirt recently,
“You think there might be more IEDs here, sir?”
“If they’ve figured out its a way to hide them from us in plain sight, they’ll keep using it. We can’t dig into every house around here looking for them. I’m surprised they only had one this time.”
Logan hadn’t noticed anything when he was right alongside the other IED. Life was going to be hell for the Legion in these villages, if the insurgents could hide their bombs so easily.
“We should pick up the rifle, sir.”
“Desoto already grabbed it before he went back to the square for Joffer to check out his suit. We’ll take it back to Intel. Doubt it will tell us much, though. Looked like standard cheap Islamic State crap to me.”
Speaking of intel, where was the girl?
Logan crouched by the corner of the house as they entered the village, and looked both ways along the street. It was empty now. No sign of the girl in either direction. A faint cloud of brown dust still hovered in the air, raised by the explosion, and slowly dissipating in the faint wind. But the girl had vanished, as though she’d never been there.
“Has anyone seen a girl?” he said over the net. “Thin, brown hair down past her shoulders, long grey dress?”
“The Legion’s not here to help with your love life, McCoy,” Volkov drawled.
Logan pointed toward the house the girl had indicated. “She said she lived over there, sir.”
Bairamov looked that way for a moment, as though he was wondering whether it was worth walking into another ambush to keep Poulin happy. “Check it out,” he said, at last.
Bairamov covered the empty street with his rifle as Logan jogged over to the house. He stayed low and zigzagged as he moved, in case there was another shooter hidden behind the dark windows. Then crouched beside the door, and banged on it. The metal door shook and clunked as his suit fist hammered against it.
“Anyone inside?” he yelled.
No answer. He banged again, but there was still nothing. He raised his rifle to point into the window, and looked through the sight on his HUD. Nothing moved in the shadows inside. If the girl was there, she was hiding where he couldn’t see her.
“Found her?” Bairamov said. He must be getting worried, crouched over there by another house that could explode at any moment. For that matter, so could this one. Logan backed away, down the steps, into the street.
“Sorry, sir. Must be the wrong place.”
The remainder of the village was just as empty between the house and the square. The tables outside the store were bare, with just a few rocks piled on top to keep the tablecloths from blowing away in the wind. Eyes watched from dark windows as the two of them jogged from house to house, stopping to cover each other as they moved. Only the pigs, goats, and dogs remained out in the open. Logan would be hiding, too, if he’d just seen someone attack the Legion.
Particularly if he’d been helping them.
Volkov was leaning over the mayor as they entered the square, his metal body towering over the sweaty bureaucrat. Poulin sat on the steps beside him at the entrance to the village hall. Desoto lay in the shadows to the side of the building, and Joffer hunched over his leg, pushing tools into inspection hatches on the side. Heinrichs worked on Gallo on the far side of the building, stabilizing him while two riflemen stood guard over them. The rest of the section had taken cover wherever they could around the buildings, and crouched there, scanning the square, buildings, and the alleys between them. Their visors were down, and weapons ready.
No-one seemed to care very much about presenting a friendly face any more.
And Volkov’s face was grim behind his visor as he turned toward Logan.
“You were asking about a girl?”
“She called us into the street, sir. Right past the house where they shot at us, and where the IED was that hit Gallo.”
“And where is she now?”
“She disappeared, sir.”
“Why did you let her get away?”
“I was chasing the asshole who’d shot at us, sir. I didn’t have time to watch where she went. And I don’t even know whether she’s involved.”
Volkov stomped across the square toward Logan, then leaned toward him until their visors almost touched. Logan could just see Volkov’s eyes through the two darkened visors, and they were bulging with anger.
“So far as I’m concerned, everyone here is involved, until they can prove they’re not. If we don’t find her, you’ll be lucky if you’re just cleaning the latrines for the next month. With your tongue.”
If they weren’t wearing suits, Logan would be rolling on the ground in pain by now after Volkov punched and beat him. But the suit was too tough for a punch or kick to hurt.
Besides, it was government property, and far more valuable than a new recruit.
Volkov wasn’t going to dent it.
“Sergeant…” Poulin began.
Volkov swung his metal hand through the air, toward the buildings around them. “I want every house in the village searched until we find the girl. No-one leaves until we do.”
“No,” Poulin said. “I cannot allow that. We are here to help these people, not hurt them.”
“In that case, they shouldn’t be shooting at us.”
“There will be more of them shooting at us if we treat them all like criminals.”
For once, she was right.
If the Legion dragged the villagers out of their houses to look for the girl, or anyone else who might be working with the insurgents, they’d only encourage these people to help the insurgents more in revenge. And the insurgents knew that.
So long as they could scare or cajole the villagers into hiding them, they were safe. If the Legion went all-out to find them, the insurgents would win.
The government would end up having to nuke the planet from orbit, because no-one would be on their side any more.
Even Volkov grasped that quickly enough after his initial anger faded. He stomped around the square in silence, then slowed and stopped.
The Mayor’s face dropped as Volkov crept back toward him. The claws on Volkov’s suit’s feet tore up the dirt as he moved with slow, measured steps.
“Where are the bastards? Where are they hiding?”
The mayor swung his hands wildly. His face glowed red, and sweat poured from him. “I don’t know. I never heard of any insurgents here before. They must have seen you coming, and decided to take a shot at you.”
“You don’t just sneak into a village and set up an ambush without anyone noticing. Someone here knows who they are, and someone here is hiding the girl who led my men into it.”
“No-one would have helped them. We are loyal citizens. We support our government and the government of France in every possible way. I’ll ask around, see what people know…”
Volkov raised his arm, and clenched his metal fist in front of the Mayor’s face.
“I’ll be glad to help convince them to talk.”
Poulin stood, and stepped up beside the mayor. “Stop this. No-one is going to be tortured here. Any prisoners we capture will be returned for proper interrogation.”