She saw something tug at the commando's left shoulder and begin to spin him about even before she heard the shot. Without conscious thought, her right hand reached for and drew her pistol. As the commando looked back down the hallway and clawed for the carbine hanging down at his hip, Melissa shoved the automatic pistol into his stomach and jerked the trigger.
The ninja danced backward into a twisted heap of blood and limbs. The dying man's hands clutched at his stomach and he cried out, but Melissa felt no pity or remorse. A cold rage, a rage directed against the people and events that had forced her to kill him, filled her. Perhaps now I have begun to earn what will become mine. Before I can accept responsibility for others, I must take responsibility for myself.This time, no mocking laughter taunted her from the depths of her being.
Keeping her pistol trained on the dead ninja, Melissa glanced back in the direction from which the original shot had come. Slumped, tattered and torn, against a wall, Leftenant Andrew Redburn slowly lowered his rifle. His dark green tunic had been all but torn from the left side of his body, with only a ragged strip of bloodsoaked cloth linking cuff and shoulder on his left arm. His trousers had fared little better, and some of the burned patches still smoldered. Redburn coughed wetly, and dropped to one knee.
Taking one last look at the ISF commando, Melissa dashed down the hallway, with Clovis close behind. "Andrew! You're alive! Thank God!" She reached out and touched the side of his face. Her hand came away wet from the blood trickling from his ears.
Andrew coughed again and winced. A droplet of blood leaked from the right corner of his mouth. "Yeah, well, that's the idea, isn't it."
Clovis stared at him. "How badly are you hit?"
Andrew shrugged. "Busted some ribs and popped my eardrums in an explosion. I can't hear too well, and I think my right lung is punctured. It only hurts when I breathe. Of course, this beats what happened to the guy sitting on my legs at the time. He shielded me from the blast."
Melissa forced herself to smile. "Clovis knows of a boat back by the small docking bay. Can you walk?"
Andrew nodded and levered himself to his feet. "Hell, for a chance to escape this rock, I'll dance if I have to!" Melissa tried to put his left arm around her shoulder to help support him, but he shook his head. "You need your hands free to handle one of the rifles. With any luck, the guy you shot was the only man posted on this level." Andrew pointed at the dead ninja. "Clovis, grab his little pig-sticker. You need something."
The dwarf grabbed the tantoand led the way down the hall. The trio proceeded carefully. Despite the fact that Melissa had fallen prey to the ninja's earlier trap, both men looked to her for direction. Honoring their trust, she studied each stretch of the corridor and silently pointed out what she saw as hazards.
The trio picked their way cautiously through the remnants of a long, running battle. When they reached the spot where Andrew's fire team had died in an explosion, the stench of blood and burning flesh overwhelmed Melissa. She fell to her knees and vomited, but refused help when both men tried to lift her to her feet. I will redeem the sacrifice of these lives,she vowed silently. I will make the plotters pay . . .
As they moved further down the battle-scarred corridors, nothing further interfered with their swift progress. Melissa even found herself smiling as they reached the corridor to the smaller docking bay. "This is it, gentlemen." She signaled Andrew to assume her position, and started to sprint across the corridor. Halfway there, she slowed, then stopped.
Andrew stepped out beside her, and his rifle clattered to the ferrocrete floor as soon as hers did. Clovis peeked around the corner, then sagged against the wall. He shook his oversized head. "So close ... so close."
The trio raised their hands in the universal sign of capitulation.
A Pantherfilled the path before them. With a gracious bow from the waist, the 'Mech and its pilot accepted their unconditional surrender.
BOOK 4
51
A2341CA
Dieron Military District, Draconis Combine
26 May 3027
Dan threw up his hands. "Am I the only one who sees this thing as insane?" He looked around the oval conference table, but none of the Kell Hound executive staff would meet his gaze. "Yes, jumping us into Kurita space was a brilliant bit of planning. They'd never expect it. Do you know why? It's utterly mad, that's why." Why can't the rest of you see that?
The hatch into the narrow, dimly lit conference room hissed open. Pale and drawn, Patrick Kell strode uneasily into the room and gently lowered himself into a chair at Dan's left. Because Patrick was not wearing a shirt, everyone could see the massive bandages covering the puncture wound on his left side. The faintest hint of pink in the center of a bandage indicated that the wound still leaked.
Patrick smiled, then nodded his head to Captain Vandermeer at the far end of the table. "Well done, Janos."
Dan twitched as though the praise for the Captain had stung him. He shook his head and Patrick Kell reached over with his right hand to pat the MechWarrior on the arm. "Calm yourself, Dan. There is method in our madness." Kell winced with pain, then raised his left hand to quiet concerned inquiries. "It hurt more when they shaved my chest to tape these bandages on. Thank God the Kuritans use sharp swords."
He looked around the room and met the combined gaze of his subordinates. "Janos and I hatched this plan after the physicians sewed me up. Desperate situations require desperate measures. What I will reveal to you now must be held in strictest confidence." Kell waited for everyone to nod agreement before he continued.
"Janos's people intercepted messages from the incoming Kurita ships to their forces on the ground. When the incoming attackers learned of the action around our base, they demanded confirmation of our destruction." He narrowed his eyes for emphasis. "They didn't want troop positions or strength estimates. They just wanted to know we were dead!"
"Payback," Cat mumbled.
Kell nodded solemnly. "That's it exactly."
Richard O'Cieran frowned. "If they want us dead, this little trick isn't going to do anything. They'll backtrack and find us here. Hell, we're close enough to Dieron for scout ships to flood this and any other uncolonized star in the area." The jump troop commander nodded at Dan. "Dan's right, we've dodged lasers and waltzed into PPC fire."
Salome Ward nodded sympathetically. "It'll take a week for us to recharge the K-F drive .. ."
Dan shook his head. "This is a K8 star, not a G. It'll take just over 199 hours, but we're not at the optimum recharging point, and we've not unfurled the solar collector yet. That adds another five hours to deploy and recover."
Major Fitzpatrick looked at Janos, who nodded slowly. With a frown, Fitzpatrick turned to Kell. "Forgive me, Patrick, but spending a week and a half here will get us killed."
"I know." Patrick leaned back and another wave of pain twisted his features. "We're going to try something dangerous. It's as likely to kill us as all the Kuritans who are after us, but it's also got a higher margin of success. Janos, please explain."
The Cucamulus'sCaptain stood and pressed a button to dim the lights. He slid a panel at his end of the table toward himself, then flipped it to reveal a computer keyboard. He slid the keyboard back into place and typed in a command. Hovering above the center of the table, a holographic diagram of the Cucamulusglowed to life.