For long moments, he could only hear the pounding of the rain. "Well, Valentin?" he demanded Shots from the hut ripped through the teeming flower bed. At almost the same instant, another heavy blast pike began to whump out return fire from somewhere back along the path.
"Cut that firing!" Drummond shouted.
The pike stopped abruptly.
"I'm going in after him," Brim said.
"You sure you want to take that no-good hab'thall on yourself, Wilf?" Drummond asked.
The Carescrian felt himself smile. "I've been sure for years, General," he answered. Peering through a space in the flower garden, he studied Valentin's position. Since the Leaguer knew he had little hope of escape, the real trick would be taking him alive. Controllers often took their own lives when facing certain capture or humiliation. Brim had seen a lot of this during the war.
"I'll need some covering fire around the window," he said.
Just then, another volley of shots spewed from the shed, toppling a statue and blasting a bench into a billion splinters.
"Wonder if you oughtn't wait a little while," Drummond suggested above the downpour. "That Maranello's got to be running low on energy soon."
"Not soon enough for me." Brim responded, ducking behind the log as still another volley sent a spray of mud and debris into the air. Suddenly, a shrill tone sounded from the shattered window.
Drummond raised an eyebrow. "Was that what I think it was?" he asked with a grin.
Brim chuckled. "Sure sounded like a power warning to me," he answered.
"If it is," Drummond said, staring.through the rain at the stone shed, "your friend Valentin has about five shots left. With all their power, Maranellos won't take cartridges—they've got to be recharged."
Brim nodded agreement. "Time to get him, then," he said, peering through the downpour.
"Now wait a moment, young fella," Drummond cautioned. "He does have at least five shots left, you know."
"I think I can handle those," Brim said as a flash of lightning streaked across the sky. "Just give me enough covering fire so I can make it to the door." His words were punctuated by a pealing roll of thunder.
Drummond considered this for a moment, then shrugged in concession. "What about taking one of these blast pikes with you, then," he whispered. "Might come in handy until brother Valentin gets rid of those last five shots."
Brim grinned. "You do have a point, there, General," he said as the rain picked up.
"Sondstrom," Drummond barked through the coursing sheets of rain. "Let's have that extra pike."
"Aye, General," the commando called from a stand of trees. Moments later, she darted across the open path like a wraith—with two Trennings, one of which she silently handed to Brim.
He took the big weapon, switched it to self-test, and watched for the green ready indication. It lighted almost instantly.
"You're sure you want to go through with this?" Drummond asked.
"I'm sure, General," Brim said, gripping the big weapon at either end. "And I'm also ready," he added, "when you are, sir."
"High covering fire on the window at my signal," Drummond whispered to Sondstrom. "Pass it on and raise your hand."
"Aye, General," the commando said, and crawled to the soldier next to her. Within moments, nine hands were aloft in the driving rain.
"Good luck, Brim," Drummond said.
"Thanks, General," Brim said. "I'll probably need all I can get."
Drummond waved his hand twice and instantly the air was filled with a stunning barrage from ten powerful blast pikes.
Brim fairly exploded across the flower bed, bending low under the blinding hail of covering shots and sprinting toward the shack. Outside the door, he crouched for a moment to catch his breath; then, tensing, he smashed the flimsy door latch assembly with the butt of the Trenning and stepped back while two more shots burst through the door in a cloud of wood splinters. "All right, Valentin," Brim called out, "that's enough. Toss that blaster where I can see it and come out with your hands up—otherwise, I'm coming in for you."
Silence.
Brim nodded his head. He really hadn't expected Valentin to cooperate. Standing the Trenning against the streaming wall, he slipped out of his coat and draped it over the barrel. Then, holding the big weapon by its butt, he poked the decoy into the middle of the doorway.
Two more shots howled out of the dark shed; the second—though noticeably weaker—shredding his coat into flying shards. A moment later, the shrill sound of an alarm came from the hut.
Valentin's blaster was finally exhausted.
"That's it, Valentin," Brim growled, "I'm coming in."
After a long silence, he stepped into the doorway and tossed the blast pike into the grass behind him. "All right, you bastard," he growled, "we're even now. Come out here and fight like a man."
A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the interior of the shed, revealing Valentin crouched in a corner with a savage look in his eyes, teeth bared as if he were a cornered animal. Half-blinded by the lightning, Brim discovered his own mistake a moment later when the Leaguer erupted from the doorway like a shot, swinging his inert blaster as if it were a club. While a fearful peal of thunder crashed above them, Brim dodged under the attack, then grabbed Valentin's sleeve and yanked down hard, bending the Leaguer over double and smashing him in the face with his knee.
The blaster went flying into the darkness as Valentin staggered backward into the shack again, with Brim following carefully in his footsteps. But the Leaguer was far from stopped. Backing all the way to the far wall, he pushed off from the rough stones and before Brim could prepare a defense, leaped forward and landed a forward thrust-kick in Brim's groin.
Brim saw the blow coming and chopped downward on Valentin's shin with the outer edge of his right forearm, but could only fractionally limit the blow. The Leaguer's boot slammed into his testicles with terrific force.
In agony, Brim folded at the waist at the same time a brutal punch exploded in his face. He staggered back, trying to catch his breath while multicolored novas exploded in his eyes.
Instinctively, he dropped to a crouch; his right knee sagged to the ground in torment. Then, gathering himself in a frantic burst of energy, he stopped another punch by grabbing Valentin's wrist and pushing it over his head, then landing a short but powerful punch, just below the ribs.