The Backlash Mission

Chapter 15

From the government section of New Geneva to the Hub in Plinry's Capstone, Caine had seen a fair number of fortress cities, but even so Athena was unique. Nestled against the ridges of the Hogback to the west, with Green Mountain rising above it to the north, it didn't look like a fortress city, for one thing. Its simple mesh fence and spotlighted outer perimeter were almost throwbacks to an earlier age before sophisticated sensors and automated defenses. True, the fence was topped by a sensor ring, but the weaponry to back the sensors up was conspicuous by its absence. So much so, Caine thought at one point, that a sufficiently naive attacker might actually think the place an easy target.

Until and unless he noticed the dark buildings squatting on top of Green Mountain....

"Ready," Alamzad murmured, breaking into his train of thought.

Caine brought his attention back. The three makeshift catapults were indeed ready, their elastic stretched taut against the braces dug into the building roof on which the four men were standing.

"Looks good," he said. "You think they'll have time to explode before the lasers up there get them?"

Alamzad shrugged. "We'll see soon enough. But I think we wrapped enough ablator around the primers to give them a chance."

Caine nodded. It almost didn't matter—laser fire above Athena would attract almost as much attention as laser fire plus explosions. But the extra sound effects would be a nice added touch.

"Okay—load 'em up," he said, reaching to his tingler. Braune: Any attention from unfriendlies?

Negative, came the reply, and Caine let a smile twitch across his lips. They'd returned from the water retrieval station to find Pittman and Colvin with a trophy of their own: a set of license plates and registration transponder borrowed for the night from a vehicle parked a few blocks from their hideout. Transplanted onto their own car, the camouflage should throw Security off the scent, at least for the rest of the night.

"All set," Alamzad reported, his face briefly illuminated by a flicker of flame. "Delay cords lit—we've got five minutes to grab some distance."

The cords burned through exactly six and a half minutes later, and from five blocks away they watched as the tiny payloads arced through the air and were met in flight by bright lines of laser fire from the top of the mountain. Three miniature bombs per sling—nine total in the salvo—and at least four of them managed to make little cracks before dissipating into clouds of component atoms.

"That's it," Caine said as the brief light show ended. "Let's get home before they send out spotters looking for someone to blame."

"You think they're even going to notice?" Colvin asked.

"I would if I were in charge," Caine told him. "And anyway, we don't really care if Security pays any attention to us at this point."

"As long as Torch does," Pittman murmured.

"Right. If it doesn't work, we'll just have to try something more noticeable."

—

The lasers had lit up the night sky while Galway was returning from the Shandygaff, and he'd half expected to find death, chaos, and a ruined entrance gate on his arrival. But that fear, at least, was quickly laid to rest; except for the beefed-up guard contingent at the gate everything looked the same as when he'd left that evening. But he'd been a Security prefect too long to expect that surface calm to extend to the situation room, too; and in that he turned out to be right.

What he wouldn't have predicted was that Quinn would also be there.

"We found three of these on the roof, right where the ballistic backtrack put them," someone was reporting via the communications board as Galway entered. The screen showed a catapultlike contraption being carefully examined by two more Security men.

"Any evidence of remote control or delay fuses?" Quinn asked.

"Some ash that may have been from time-delay rope," the man said. "We won't know for sure until it's been analyzed."

Quinn glanced up at Galway, returned his attention to the screen. "Make damn sure they aren't boobytrapped and then bring them in."

"Yes, sir."

Quinn turned to a man hovering at his shoulder. "Anything further on the water-station break-in?" he asked.

"They were definitely Caine and Braune," the man said, handing the general a piece of paper.

"Positive identification from everyone who saw them. They made off with a box of fifty AK-29 primer caps, rated strength point zero two each. Not much more than small firecrackers."

"I think we can assume they have more than holiday noisemaking in mind for them," Quinn said icily. "Feed that report down to analysis and have them find out whether or not that's the strength of the bombs that were launched over Athena half an hour ago."

The man gulped. "Yes, sir," he said, and hurried away.

"Idiot," Quinn muttered, turning to face Galway for the first time. "Noise wake you up?"

Galway shook his head. "I was still up, out at the Shandygaff Bar."

"I told you that place was off-limits."

"They're here, General. Lathe and Skyler at least—and judging by the carnage outside, I'd say at least two more came with them."

Quinn hissed between his teeth. "I ought to have your skin on a rack for going there against orders.

No chance you're wrong, I suppose."

"Hardly. And there's more. Two of your local blackcollars helped them punch their way out."

Quinn's eyes narrowed. "The blackcollars helped them? Didn't just fail to stop them, I mean?"

"Helped and a half. One of them was Kanai—the one your files say is contact man for the group—and he not only provided diversion but also cleaned out the bar's backup man."

"They'll roast him alive." Quinn shook his head. "He goes there every week—Nash'll have his head for something like that."

I warned you about underestimating your blackcollars. The words bounced around Galway's brain, but he left them unsaid. Having to admit his error would be humiliating enough for a man like Quinn without being reminded that Galway had been right all along. "Should I get those pictures of Lathe and the others copied for general distribution now?" he asked instead.

Quinn focused on him. "What could Lathe have offered them that they'd risk shaking up the Shandygaff for?" he asked.

Galway frowned. "What do you mean? There's no need for deals. Lathe has the authority to bring the group back to full combat status—"

"Nonsense. I know these people, Galway—and they are not going to start fighting a thirty-year-old war again. No, Lathe's made a deal with them, and the only question is what the payoff is."

Galway took a deep breath. "General, I don't mean to question your knowledge of the city and its people, but isn't it possible that Kanai and his people have been lying low waiting for just this sort of opportunity?"

"Opportunity for what? You haven't yet even come up with a plausible mission for Caine, let alone one he'd need Lathe along for."

"I've filed reports—"

"I said plausible missions." Quinn snorted. "Getting into Aegis Mountain hardly qualifies as such."

With an effort Galway held his temper. "All right, then; what do you propose be done at this point?"

"We're going to find Caine." Quinn's tone was grim. "This Postern scheme of yours has obviously failed—whether because he's defected or because they're on to him."

"He wouldn't defect—"

"Spare me your unfounded opinions. Postern has failed—and as of tonight Caine's moved up out of the simple nuisance category. Whatever he's got planned, he's started work on it in earnest, and I'm tired of sitting around waiting for phone calls. As of right now I'm shifting the hunt for him onto full priority status. We're going to get that car he took out of the mountains, and we're going to check out all reports of stolen vehicles in case he's decided to switch cars. And when we find him, we're going to bring him in."

"You do and Prefect Donner will have your scalp," Galway snapped, his control breaking at last.

"That's if the Ryqril don't get to you first."

"You let me deal with Donner and the Ryqril," Quinn returned. "However you sold them this swampland deed, I'm going to get it overturned."

Galway bit down on the inside of his cheek, fighting his frustration down to a manageable level.

Quinn could afford the luxury of a personality feud; he, Galway, couldn't. Plinry's survival was hanging from the wire here. "Would you at least agree to discuss this with Prefect Donner before you take any burned-bridge action against Caine?" he asked.

Quinn seemed to measure him with his eyes. "No promises," he said at last. "We'll see how much work it is to find him first."

"Do you want Lathe's picture circulated in the meantime?"

"I'd like to stick with one group at a time, if you don't mind. Besides, we can find Lathe anytime we need to—he's teamed up with Kanai, remember?" Quinn glanced at his watch. "Tomorrow's likely to be a busy day. I suggest you go get some sleep."

It was clearly a dismissal. "Yes, sir. I'll talk with you in the morning, then."

Turning, Galway stalked out the door. He'd had as much of Quinn as he could stand for the moment, anyway... and whether the general knew it or not, he was right.

Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.