22

The Jokuan platoon leader smashed the jewelry display case with the butt of his rifle, shattering the glass. He reached in and picked up the black felt tray, which held dozens of diamonds, and then dumped it unceremoniously into his rucksack.

“Time to go,” he told his driver.

They stepped over the bodies of the shopkeeper and his wife, who lay in a pool of blood near the store’s entrance, and emerged out on the streets of Tarkis.

“Mount up, Blue Platoon!” the platoon leader yelled.

His men hurried out of shops along the street, heading for the armored trucks, carrying their stolen goods. One of his NCOs was carrying a large, high-definition viewscreen.

“Where the fuck are you going to put that?” the platoon leader called to him.

“Gonna strap it to the roof, sir.”

He heard a scream, and the last of his soldiers appeared from inside an apartment building, hauling a young girl by the hair. She screamed again, in pain and fear.

The platoon leader frowned, and walked over to the soldier. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

“Just bringing some entertainment along with us, sir,” the soldier said, grinning.

“No, you’re not,” the platoon leader said.

“You can have her first,” the soldier offered.

“I don’t care who has her first, I’m not feeding her for the next four days,” the platoon leader replied. “Now leave her – we’ll find another one once we’ve seized the objective.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier agreed, disappointed. He let the girl go, and she turned and ran for the apartment building. The soldier pointed his pistol after her and fired, laughing, but the bullet missed, and she disappeared inside.

The platoon leader headed back toward his armored truck, counting the soldiers in the other three trucks as he went. Then he opened his passenger door and took a seat, pulling the radio mic from its place on his tactical vest as the patrol started down the street.

“This is Blue One: slant four, negative enemy contact, passing checkpoint Romeo Five. Continuing mission to secure eastern hydro-electric plant.”

“Roger, Blue One,” the reply came from the radio’s speaker, acknowledging his report.

“Getting dark, sir,” the driver observed, pointing through his windshield at the last remnants of the sun, setting past the buildings ahead of them.

“Mm,” the platoon leader agreed. “We’ll switch to night vision in a minute.”

“So far this has been the most boring invasion ever,” the driver complained. “Making me miss the good old days back on Jokuan.”

They turned the corner onto a new street, and the three other vehicles in the platoon followed close behind. Then the driver slammed on his brakes.

“What the fuck?”

The platoon leader looked up from his station. A single Jokuan tank stood parked in the middle of the street ahead of them, gun tube pointed at their patrol. His radio crackled to life again – it was the platoon sergeant, in the patrol’s rear vehicle.

“What unit is that? I thought we were supposed to have this sector to ourselves, sir.”

“I thought so too,” the platoon leader sent back, frowning. “Maybe he’s lost.”

“Well, go find out, sir.”

The platoon leader scowled, but opened his door, picking his auto-rifle up out of its stand. “Stay here,” he told his driver.

 

* * *

 

In the gathering darkness, Rath slipped out from behind the parked van and ran, hunched over, to the back of the last truck in the formation. He climbed the truck’s rear with practiced ease, drawing a fighting knife when he reached the roof. In front of him, the truck’s gunner had swiveled in his turret, pointing his grenade launcher forward as he watched the tank.

You fucked up, pal, Rath thought. Who’s on rear security if you’re looking at the tank?

Rath crept up behind him, then lunged forward, covering the soldier’s mouth with one hand. Rath stabbed him at the base of his skull, severing the spinal cord with a single, quick thrust. The man went limp in his hands. Rath sheathed the knife, still holding him up, and then pulled a grenade off the man’s belt. He set it to Stun and then dropped it through the hatch down into the vehicle, taking cover behind the man’s body.

The grenade exploded with a brilliant flash of light and an ear-splitting thunderclap, knocking the vehicle’s inhabitants unconscious. Rath pushed the dead gunner to the side and took hold of the grenade launcher, checking briefly to ensure it was loaded, safety off. Then he took aim at the next truck in the patrol and opened fire, walking the grenade rounds slowly and carefully over each truck in turn.

The last truck, which had been parked in the lead, managed to start driving before Rath reached it, but he merely shifted aim and put two rounds into the truck’s rear quarter. The resulting explosion flipped the truck forward onto its roof, where it lay burning. Rath put two more rounds into it for good measure.

The whip-crack of a rifle round made him duck in the turret – a single soldier had dismounted from the lead truck, and was now shooting at him. Rath watched as the tank’s main gun swiveled, centering itself on the soldier. Jaymy fired a short burst with the tank’s coaxial machine gun, and the rounds tattooed along the pavement to one side of the kneeling soldier. He dropped his rifle in alarm, holding both hands aloft.

Rath smiled. He took one more grenade off of the dead gunner, set it on a short delay, and dropped it through the turret. Then he hopped off the roof, jogging along the row of burning vehicles. The grenade exploded as he reached the officer, setting the truck on fire. Rath took the young lieutenant’s rifle off the street, and then removed the man’s grenades and side-arm, strapping them onto his own tactical vest. Jaymy popped her head out of the turret a second later.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Rath said. “Good job.” He eyed his prisoner, who was still kneeling on the pavement. <Put your hands down,> Rath told him.

The officer complied, swallowing nervously.

<What are you boys up to tonight?> Rath asked, squatting across from him.

<S-seizing the hydro-electric dam,> the officer stuttered.

Rath glanced back over his shoulder at the burning convoy. <Not anymore you’re not. What’s the rest of your unit tasked with?>

<Capturing other key utility providers, and the industrial production centers.>

<And after those are secure?> Rath asked.

The man licked his lips, and pointed upward tentatively, at the buildings and structures towering above them. <We’re supposed to be allowed to loot the upper levels.>

<Looks like you’ve already started the looting,> Rath said, nodding at a gold chain around the man’s neck. <Where’s General Yo-Tsai?>

<I don’t know.>

Rath pointed the rifle at the man’s radio. <So find out.>

The man fumbled with the controls for a second, and then keyed the microphone. <Blue One, requesting the location of General Yo-Tsai.>

There was a moment of silence. <Say again, Blue One?>

He shrugged at Rath. <I’m just a lieutenant. They might not tell me.>

<Tell them I’m the mayor of the city. Tell them I want to surrender to the general.>

The officer relayed Rath’s request. Again, there was a long pause, and then the radio directed them to switch frequencies, to a command net. The officer fiddled with the radio, switching to the new channel. They heard a new voice, already broadcasting.

<… just lost most of the platoon!> the voice yelled. <I’m telling you, the spaceport is no longer secure!>

Rath grabbed the lieutenant’s hand, preventing him from broadcasting his own message. <Wait,> he said, frowning as he listened.

<Can you estimate size and composition of the enemy force, over?> another voice asked.

<Several hundred strong,> came the reply. <They fired on us from our own vehicles.>

The cops! Rath realized. They captured the spaceport!

<Stand by,> the second voice said. <We’re organizing a counter-attack now.>

Rath locked eyes with the lieutenant, and gestured to the buildings on either side of them. <You might have come here to loot the upper levels, but you’re on the lower levels of Tarkis right now. Which means there are a bunch of enterprising young criminals watching us. They just saw what went down out here, and they’re currently calculating how much scrap they could salvage off your trucks once I leave, and what you might be worth as a hostage to them.>

The lieutenant glanced at the buildings apprehensively.

<… if they don’t decide to kill you just for the fun of it. Either way, if I were you, I would get the hell back to your ship,> Rath concluded. The young officer hesitated for a moment, then stood and ran, disappearing down the street.

I doubt he makes it more than two blocks.

Rath hurried over to the tank and hauled himself up, before clambering down into the turret.

“I think I figured out where all the cops went,” he told Jaymy. “It sounds like they’re making a stand at the spaceport.”

“Did you find out where Yo-Tsai is?” she asked.

“No. But if there’s a fight at the spaceport, he won’t be far away.”

“I’m guessing that’s where we’re going, too?” Jaymy asked.

“Yup,” Rath agreed. He pulled the hatches closed above them, sealing them inside the turret.

Jaymy fired up the tank’s engine. “Which way?”