Intrepid

22

Kris wasn't surprised by the picture Captain Drago unloaded to her next orbit. The hostile forces still sat where the road crossed the swamp. This Colonel Cortez could read the ground as well as she. And it spelled ambush in easy-to-read letters.

He was looking things over and giving it a long think.

It also let his rear guard, the only troops he had in armor, catch up. Smart man. So much for Kris's prayer for a brash, dumb one. Nelly had not been able to find out anything about a recently cashiered officer by the name of Cortez.

As further proof he was not dumb, the colonel didn't waste his time. He had some of the white-beret soldiers slowly making their way forward up the causeway on their hands and knees.

Kris zoomed the picture in as much as she could, then studied it carefully. Yes, one of them held something in his hand that glinted in the afternoon sun.

Kris chuckled. So, someone had saved money by skipping mine detectors. Whoever was in charge was using those white hats to fish for mines with their knives.

Jack wasn't under orders not to mine the causeway. Of course, that didn't mean he would.

Kris swallowed her chuckle. Ten hostages stood close to the slowest mine hunter. If Jack had put explosives out, things were going to get bloody a bit sooner then they wanted.

These developments were something Kris would like to talk over with her officer and NCOs. However, her LT was busy laying down two alternate tracks for this advance to contact.

And now Gunny and the other sergeants were riding along in rigs with civilians. Talking to them, telling them the bare necessities that might keep them alive. A glance at the trucks around Kris showed that the NCOs had the rapt attention of the listening farmers.

Kris assessed her progress. Measured where she needed to be by first light tomorrow. The two looked to balance.

Dear Lord, but she hated the waiting.

* * *

''The situation in front of you has not changed in the last ninety minutes,'' Thorpe's image observed from the clear air in front of Colonel Cortez. In front of the ground pounder, the map flimsy updated itself. ''Quit wasting time and get that show of yours on the road,'' the starship captain ordered smartly.

Easy for him, his neck wasn't heading into an ambush.

Cortez had worked with Thorpe before. He'd learned to take calls like these in private. That didn't mean he liked them.

''Do you have any information about what kind of Marines Kris Longknife left New Eden with?''

The feed from the ship looked like it froze. Certainly, the face Thorpe showed the colonel did not change. Not so much as a breath of change.

''What kind of Marines …?'' he finally said.

''One of our lieutenants came across some information about Kris Longknife getting in trouble on New Eden.''

Thorpe interrupted. ''That woman is always in trouble.''

''Yes, sir,'' Cortez said, but did not allow his train of thought to be derailed. ''Miss Longknife was reportedly escorted off planet one step ahead of the law. The information did not identify how many Marines or if they were fleet Marine force, recon, or embassy Marines. Nor did it say if she still had them with her.''

Thorpe said slowly. ''Wardhaven Marines,''

''Yes, sir.''

''What did it say about them?''

''Nothing, sir. It was a gossip column that mentioned the Marines in passing.''

''Civilians never care about the troops,'' Thorpe spat.

''Yes, sir. But Longknife and Marines. Are they still together?''

''Why would Marines waste their time with her? No, Colonel, once the Marines got her out, they got her out of their hair.''

''I would certainly think so, sir. However, there is this little matter of what she is doing here. We did not expect her. No source suggested we might encounter her here. But here she is, claiming to command a Wardhaven ship. What's the name of it? Wasp? Not exactly the name for a merchant.''

''But she is carrying cargo for one of the farmers here. She said that when she refused my order to sheer off.''

''There is that, sir. I admit, matters are very confusing.''

''The woman could confuse a bronze statue,'' Thorpe snorted, then eyed Cortez. ''Are you going soft on me, Hernando? Has she got you so confused you're chasing your tail? You want to cut and run in front of this … this … rich brat?''

''No, sir. Not at all,'' Cortez exploded. Back home in an officers' club, such talk might result in someone being invited outside. And that someone might be on sick call the next day.

That someone would not bear the proud name of Cortez.

Now the colonel swallowed and went on. ''However, Captain, my forces are gathering here in front of where I would have arranged an ambush. Before I stick my head into it, I'd like to know as much about the situation as I can. I do not like what I have learned. Do you know anything I should?''

Cortez managed, with effort, to turn that last remark into a question. A question it might be, but it was still good for taking an inch of skin off of William Tacoma Thorpe's proud hide.

The starship driver's face did not turn beet red. Not quite. He heard everything that Cortez had included and intended. He took a long moment to reply.

When it came, his words were deceptively soft. ''Colonel, you have your orders. We have good reason to believe that whatever forces Longknife has landed to train and equip the local terrorists are ahead of you. Advance and destroy them.''

Cortez saluted. ''Yes, sir.''

Thorpe returned the salute. ''Execute your orders. Let's kick some Longknife butt.''

The image in front of Cortez vanished into the air. Cortez had his orders. Now all he needed to do was make them happen.

He shook his head.