Redoubtable

10

“That dog just keeps gnawing on that woman,” Kris said, her stomach in free fall. “She’s dead.”

“I hope so,” Penny said. “They’re letting the dog eat her.”

Kris and Penny watched a picture that their computers directed to their eyes. The chief looked at them, eyes wide with questions . . . but he did not ask his computer to give him the video feed that was so upsetting the two officers.

It took Kris most of a minute to recover. “Jack,” she finally said.

“Yes, Commander.”

“This Jackie is a very bad actor. She’s staking out hostages on the lawn of her mansion. One tried to run, and she set a dog on her.”

“Nasty gal, huh?” Jack said.

“No saving graces at all,” Kris answered.

“So she’s set to hide behind human walls,” Jack said slowly. “Does this change your orders, Your Highness?”

“No. This is barbarity. Nobody should have to suffer this, not when there are troopers around to do something about it. But it does mean we’ll have to work a lot harder to take down this witch. Chief, Nelly, would you please back search any sky-eye feed you have of the buildings around Tranquility Road. I need to know which buildings had hostages marched into them.”

“We’re on it,” both said.

The air was split by a sonic boom, soon followed by a second, third, and fourth. “The landing boats are on final approach,” Kris said.

“And our local warlord has to know it’s showtime,” Jack added.

“But to know the show is on and not know where it’s at must be maddening for a control freak like Jackie,” Kris said. It certainly would be maddening for her.

Kris turned to look at those who shared her truck. A sniper team, a rifle team, and a corporal with four privates whom Jack had detailed to slow Kris down. She’d have to take care of that.

They were coming upon the outskirts of Lander’s Rest. Ahead was a burned-out group of stores with a large parking lot. Just the place for Kris to take care of a few small problems.

“Driver, pull the convoy off the road over there.”

He turned right into the parking lot.

“You four,” she said, pointing at her guards, “follow me.”

The four followed Kris, with the corporal right behind them, as Kris dismounted the truck and headed back down the convoy line.

By the time she got to the fourth truck, Jack was already waiting for her. “What are you up to now, Princess?” he asked, eyeing those following her.

“I want to send the last dozen trucks around the outskirts of town so they can connect with third and fourth platoons and give them some mobility.”

“Yes, I know,” Jack said. “What does that have to do with your guards?”

“Four privates, four groups of three trucks. Who better to see that they get there?”

“I could assign four other privates,” Jack said, whispering to keep this conversation private.

“Yes, but everyone else has a job,” Kris whispered right back.

“Kris, those four have a job. Keeping you not dead.” Exasperation had free rein in Jack’s voice though he still kept it low. Around them, Marines were struggling to pay attention to anything but them.

“Jack, I have a sniper team, a rifle team, and the corporal here. I don’t need more. They’ll only get in my way. Slow me down.”

“Anything that slows you down sounds like a great idea to me. And a full-time job. Kris, after the last bomb, I thought we’d have fewer of these talks.”

“So did I,” Kris admitted. “I was wrong, and so are you. We’ve got a very nasty warlord to kill or capture. I kind of like the idea of killing her. Do you really think we can spare people to hold my hand? How’s your assault on that soccer stadium coming?”

“Not so good. It’s got a lot of parking lot around it and not much cover. Damn it, woman, you’re changing the topic.”

“I’m focusing on the topic at hand.” Kris quickly covered the distance to the six trucks full of local volunteers. “Are any of you soccer fans? Football,” she corrected. “Been to the football stadium?”

“I have,” came from several.

“I’ve played there twice and worked a summer for the groundskeeper,” a young woman said, dropping gracefully from her truck.

“Jack here needs to save the people being held prisoner there before the gunmen can mow them down. You two need to talk.”

Kris took the woman’s hand and passed her along to Jack, all the time wishing she wasn’t so beautiful, well-endowed, and athletic. Like most, her clothing was thin and worn. Ah, the things I do for humanity, Kris thought, hoping she wasn’t setting herself up for another bridesmaid’s dress.

Jack threw Kris an angry scowl before putting his head together with the woman.

Kris had other things on her mind. She spotted one of the fellows who sounded a bit too vengeful. “You, and the guy next to you. Come with me.”

Kris culled an even dozen out of the volunteers and got them moving with her to the last dozen trucks.

“Each of you, pick a truck. You’re riding shotgun for it.”

“What’s that?” came from several of them.

“These trucks need to connect with the Marine platoons I’m dropping on the other side of town to stop Jackie and her thugs from making a run for the hills. They may not all drop where we want them. You make sure they have a ride if they need to move. You make sure these trucks aren’t stolen out from under you.”

Kris turned to the four Marines. “Each of you, pick three trucks. It’s your responsibility to see that they get to the other platoons. Stay on the outskirts of town. Go around trouble. You are not to look for a fight. Run if you have to, but make sure the colonel gets at least six of these trucks. Any questions?”

There were none.

“Check in regularly with me or the colonel. You’ve got the radio access. Good luck.”

With an OOH-rah, the four nonplus privates went looking for their first commands, and Kris headed back to the lead truck.

When she passed Jack, he was deep in conversation with the gal with the very short cutoffs and the near-nonexistent tank top. With a familiar and very sad sigh, Kris concentrated on the challenge at hand.

She ordered the twelve trucks for the colonel to break off at the next cross street. Two groups went right; the other two trios went left. At the next major cross street, it was time to detach Jack. She went straight ahead, he turned left.

“Princess Kris, this is Colonel Cortez,”

“Yes, Colonel,” Kris answered.

“We’re about to jump, but something interesting has developed. The spaceport is now squawking. Someone in the tower has even authorized the four of us to land.”

“Interesting,” Kris said.

“I thought you might find it so.”

“Once you depart for your place of business, who will be left in the longboats?”

“Command Master Chief L. J. Mong had originally planned on landing the Navy support teams at the Annam plantation. Given a choice, he’d prefer the airport.”

“He might have to fight for it,” Kris pointed out.

“From the grin on his face, I think he’s hoping for just that eventuality,” the colonel answered.

So, it boiled down to a simple question. Had someone set a snare for a rabbit out at the airport? What would be the outcome if they found an angry bear in their bunny trap instead?

“Tell the chief he has my permission to use his discretion. If he thinks the port can be captured and turned to good use, go for it. If a closer observation shows the port is too much to bite off, give it a pass. I’ll send an eye so he can take a good look before he leaps.”

I’M ALREADY DOING IT, Nelly told Kris.

“Looks like fun,” the colonel said. “You got trucks moving my way?”

“Four sets of three by four different routes. You shouldn’t have to walk.”

“Godspeed, Commander.”

“And Godspeed to you, Colonel.”

Kris turned back to concentrate on her own problem, Tranquility Road. Maybe it was about time to start messing with Jackie Jackson’s telephone.

Jackie Jackson answered the phone on the first ring. “Yes,” she snapped.

There was a noticeable pause before Captain Belou said, “We’ve got the airport up and working. Some of the employees were hiding out in the hangars with their families. We’ve got them working for us. I’ve made contact with the incoming shuttles. They say they’ll be glad to land here.”

“They tell you what they’re carrying?”

“Boxes of famine biscuits, or so they say.”

“If they’re not carrying Marines, I’m a virgin who’s never killed before.”

“If they’re not carrying biscuits, I and my crew will be blending back in with the locals. We can’t fight Marines.”

“Don’t fight them. Just send them into town and call me. I’m ready for them.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I have things to do. This port is in lousy shape.”

“We’ll make it nice for you when you bring back your first load of confiscated goods.” Jackie grinned happily at the thought and hung up.

So, where were the Marines who were supposed to be driving up from that plantation south of town? She’d offered rewards for anyone who reported them. She should be hearing something!

Her phone rang. She answered “Yes.”

There was a long pause. She hated calls that did that. St. Pete’s system regularly did it. Some people hinted darkly that State Security was responsible.

Jackie was State Security and knew better. It was just an overworked phone system. Her boss had told her so.

Kaskatos’s phone system had worked the first time, every time.

Until today.

Now the receiver went dead. She hung up the phone and stared at it. It rang again.

And again it buzzed for a few seconds before clicking and going dead.

She’d no sooner clicked it off than it rang again and repeated the whole procedure.

Jackie was about to throw the phone against the wall when she thought better, clicked it off, and speed dialed the stadium.

Richard quickly answered the phone. “Yes.”

“Are you having problems with the phone?” she snapped.

“No,” he answered. He was a simple man. Give him an order, and he did it. If he said his phone was working, it was.

“Have you had any calls in the last few minutes?”

“None.”

“Call me back,” Jackie said, and hung up.

A few seconds later, her phone rang. “Yes.”

There was a brief pause, then Richard said, “You asked me to call.”

“Yes. Have you seen anything of the gunmen we heard about from the south?”

“Nothing, Your Terribleness. I have rocket launchers on the upper levels of the stadium. There are miles and miles of parking lot. If anyone tries to drive across that asphalt, we will barbecue them.”

“I would expect nothing less from you, Richard. Hold the stadium. You may start killing the sheep as soon as you are attacked. I’ll teach them to cross me.”

“It will be done,” he said, and hung up.

A moment later, Jackie’s phone rang again. When it started to buzz rather than talk, she hurled it out the window.

“Damn phones. There’s no one I really wanted to talk to.”