‘Look out, Lippy. We're only going to have one shot before we fall back. There're two lances out there and they look confident of support, so make it good.’
‘What are we looking at, Cap'n?’ came back the Crusaderpilot's voice.
‘If we're lucky, a Cicada,but after the surprise I just gave one I met back there, look for a Rifleman.He was almost as close.’ Sweat was pouring down St. George's face. Weapons fire and rapid movement were sending his 'Mech's heat up to the danger point.
By now, the LRMs had stopped firing. The huge Assault Mech that had been supplying the fire was no doubt moving up to support its smaller fellows. St. George decided to take this opportunity to charge straight back up the path. It seemed a long time before he passed the smoking wreckage of the Locust,its torso now glowing a dull red. Despite the relative dampness that seemed to pervade the area, the 'Mech's burning had ignited the surrounding foliage.
‘Here we come, Lippy. Heads up!’ the Captain called out.
‘They'll never know what hit 'em!’ Lipescue's voice sounded eager.
St. George gave a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods there be that his company had at least a few veterans to leaven the kids. If they hadn't, this attempt to fall back would have become a rout.
The Captain's Shadow Hawkthundered past the ambush position. Lipescue's Crusaderwas barely traceable through the thick shrubbery and the background of smoldering underbrush.
‘I'm going to hook back up the path a bit. If it is the Rifleman,you'll need a little help to finish it off quickly.’
‘Don't turn too soon, sir,’ came the Crusaderpilot's reply. ‘We don't want him to think you're going to make a stand before he gets to the party.’
‘Roger that, Lippy.’
As the Captain moved up the path, he contacted the lonely Wasphe had left in the Swords's old position.
‘Trooper Bryant, Trooper Bryant. This is Captain St. George. Come in.’
‘Bryant here, sir.’
‘What does the front look like?’
‘I can't tell too much. Over where One used to be. there's some movement, but they seem cautious about the center.’
‘After our original breakout drive, I'm not surprised. They probably think we're loading up tor another thrust. Lay down some fire in the direction of One's old position. Then let the front have about a two minute fare-thee-well, before you fall back. Lippy and I should be done here by then.’
‘Yes, sir. I'll keep them guessing.’ Bryant's voice was excited.
‘Don't be late. When we come out of the forest over here, there will be two very angry lances on our tail. I don't want any part of my company cut off. Not even a measly Wasp.Ya got that?’
‘Roger that, Captain. I won't be longer than four minutes.’
A clearing appeared on the left, blasted out of the forest by the day's missile fire. The Shadow Hawkturned into it and came back down the trail. He could see nothing of the ambush site. Good,St. George thought. We wait and see if they took the bait.
‘Here he comes, bold as brass,’ Ll-pescue called out. ‘It's the Rifleman,all right. He's coming on at what passes for a run in those cans. He doesn't see me, though. Looks like he's dead on your trail.’
‘Don't tip our hand, Lippy. I want him.’
‘Oh, sir. you wound me.’ The Crusaderpilot's voice was ironic.
The wait seemed to stretch from seconds into hours. They had to strike and get out now, or risk being cut off.
‘A little closer. C'mon,’ the trooper coaxed. ‘There you go. Don't be afraid.’ There came a ground-shaking concussion that the Captain could feel through his 'Mech's armor. ‘Gotcha!’ Lipescue exalted. ‘Twelve SRMs, straight into the right-turret arm. Blew the sucker right off. There're parts flying everywhere.’
The Captain bolted back down the trail in time to see the maimed Riflemanturn to bring its undamaged arm to bear on its tormentor. Lipescue's Crusaderwas pumping laser fire into the injured 'Mech, but its pilot seemed oblivious to the damage.
‘Here comes the cavalry,’ St. George yelled.
As the distance closed, the Shadow Hawkopened up on the left turret arm with its autocannon and laser. Chunks of machinery flew from the Rifleman,but it refused to go down. The Steiner 'Mech's autocannon began to blow chunks out of the forest behind Lipescue's Crusader,which would lock down on him in an instant.
The Shadow Hawkskidded to a stop and let go a volley of SRMs at the Steiner 'Mech. The Rifleman'sautocannon and laser arm swept fire across the Crusader'storso plates. The Crusaderunleashed a volley of twelve SRMs straight into the relentless weapon arm. engulfing the valiant Riflemanin a hell of 14 simultaneous SRM impacts. When the flash died away, the Riflemanwas left a smoking pillar, armless and afire, but still standing.
‘That was one tough bastard,’ murmured the Crusaderpilot. ‘I'm getting out of here before he blows.’
‘How're you. Lippy? He managed to get his guns to bear there at the end.’
The Crusaderheaded up the path toward St, George. ‘Battered but unbowed, Captain. He only nicked me!’ The 'Mech showed the scorch of the Steiner's laser, but seemed functionally unimpaired.
‘Double time, trooper. We've got too many hostile callers to linger here too long.’ The Captain took a last look back down the path as the Crusaderpassed him by. His heat sensors picked up something very big and very hot coming through the forest along the path he had made. This time, he could see other 'Mechs traveling parallel to the path, smashing their own way through the undergrowth. Leaving the smoldering Riflemanbehind. Captain St. George headed back to the 131st Battalion's lines.
‘Oh great, when did the rain start?’ St. George reached the position behind the ridge, where the Swords of St. George were dug in.
‘It was a couple of minutes ago. Cap'n. ‘
St George could make out the form of his unit's top noncommissioned officer, Master Sergeant Allen McHaigh. The venerable old Wolverine-Mthat McHaigh piloted bulked out of the gathering gloom like a moving house.
‘Report. Sergeant McHaigh. What is our position and our unit strength?’
‘We're dug in behind this ridgeline for about a klick in either direction. What good this diggin' in is going to do, I can't tell. A and D companies have already pulled out.'
‘McHaigh, the unit strength.’
Yes. sir. Company B ot the 131 st battalion now consists of Lipescue's Crusader,your Shadow Hawk,and this old can of paint. Swords Three can toss in a Hermes II.a Wasp,and a Stingerthat we might as well leave behind. As for Harris's boys in Swords One, there's his Hunchback,another Wasp.and a Locustthat's about as useful as that Stingerin Three,’
‘Where's Bryant? He was supposed to be here before Lippy and I got back.’
‘Don't know, sir. There's been a lot of activity back in our old position. We've not heard a word.’
The Captain's mind raced. Unit strength was down by a fourth, two of his unit commanders out. His support positions were falling back behind him. The only good thing was that the rain would hamper the fighters as much as it would slow down his troops. It could be worse.
‘What the hell is that coming across that field?’ The voice was Sergeant Hams.