Desperado (Murphy's Lawless: Watch the Skies Book 2) Read online

  It might be enough to enable the attack to succeed.

  * * *

  Aliza darted between buildings, heading toward the eastern glacis. There were doors and compartments cut into the wall’s thick base. She arrived at a door just as several panicked fighters burst out of it and rushed toward the central tunnels. Recoiling, she spun toward the waterfall at the extreme eastern end of the wall. There was a larger opening there with a retractable sluice gate capable of closing off the canal to retain water when the flow from the aquifer below was low. A quick glance over her shoulder did not reveal Waornaak in pursuit…or anywhere else. Hope surged in her chest as Aliza ran for the door and ducked inside.

  The room was far larger than she expected. Barrels and other large water containers lined the walls. There was space enough for her to squeeze behind them, and she moved deeper into the room, against the foundations of the first point that protruded from the glacis. Along the inner wall, Aliza found several arm-length metal rods. She grabbed one and touched the M1911 pistol holstered on her right thigh, just to make sure it was still there. She ducked behind a waist-high stack of wooden poles and tried to fold herself into the darkness. The light coming through the door flickered, and she heard heavy footsteps upon the dusty stone floor.

  Aliza’s hand dropped to her side, and she silently gathered the long garment up so she could grasp the butt of her pistol. Carefully, noiselessly, she worked the safety strap holding the pistol in the holster and drew it.

  Waornaak laughed. “I know you are here, woman. You will answer for the trouble you’ve brought.”

  * * *

  As the militia atop the glacis finally coordinated fire in his direction, Bo’s vehicles returned it. At first, the militiamen froze, then they quickly resumed. Rockets streaked down at the tacticals and other vehicles. Despite the intense fire rising up at them, the enemy militia continued to man their posts until the mortar shells began crashing down. The first impacts were spectacularly on target. In the chaos of explosions, dust and bodies flew widely and the remaining troops scattered. Some tried to fall back to the nearest battlement to their east, while others fled west along the glacis. Bo heard a sharp cry from his left and saw many indigenous soldiers jumping off their vehicles, weapons in hand, making for the ragged breach that had been made by the big, dual guns of his largest, turreted AFV. The indigs pressed toward the hole in the wall even though mortar rounds continued to fall. Bo’s Lost Soldiers—now officers and NCOs—held them back with frantic screams and arm motions.

  Bo grabbed his radio. “Tequila Sunrise, cease fire! Cease fire!”

  A few seconds later the barrage lifted, and his infantry charged in. The lead elements disappeared through the gap in the glacis, well ahead of their leaders who frantically gave chase. Bo could see his heavier vehicles in the main effort wouldn’t puncture a large enough hole in the thick wall to pass through. And the odds of their climbing the rock-strewn incline wasn’t that great, either. He’d overestimated the maneuverability of the assault vehicles and the thickness of the glacis. Punching a hole was possible, but not on the scale he’d hoped. A few of the scout vehicles might make it through the rough gap, but he’d have to shift them from their position at the gate. He had to trust that infantry and the remaining scout vehicles could push through the entrance and accept that the heavy vehicles might not make it up the slope as planned. If so, then entering the Inner City on foot was their best chance to maintain the initiative.

  Bo motioned to the other nearby vehicle commanders to get their infantry and nonessential crew dismounted to join the attack through the breach. As they did, the vehicles kept hammering at weak spots in several other places. The enemy, though, had gathered atop the wall to the east, and they began raining down an impressive sleet of fire. It forced Bo to duck into the cupola, and he could not see what was happening. He grabbed the radio handset.

  “California, this is Desperado Six. Tell Fastlane we’re on our way. We’ve encountered heavy resistance, but we’ve breached the wall.”

  The response from Fahey came immediately. “Desperado Six, this is California. Fastlane secured the site and is en route to your position now.”

  Bo snapped, “He can’t get through the tunnels. That’s suicide.”

  “They’re not going through the tunnels, Desperado Six. Expect to see Fastlane with Alpha Section from the east anytime now. Bravo Section has entered the city on foot. Their whinnies are moving east along the back side of the outcropping and are heading your way.”

  Bo didn’t have time to argue. A flurry of weapons fire from outside caught his attention. The militia soldiers on the glacis above had pivoted their aim. Some appeared to be firing into the city itself.

  “California, can you see the western side of town from your position?”

  “Negative, Desperado Six. We can move to the edge and look.”

  Bo swore under his breath. “Get there now. I want you calling in fire from the mortars onto the wall. Tell me if the scout vehicles have made it through the gate. You’re gonna have to guide the choppers in, Fahey. And get the mortars firing again!”

  “Done it before, sir. I’ve got it.” He heard Fahey breathing hard as he ran. “Moving now.”

  “Guidons, anybody have eyes on Fastlane?”

  There was no reply from Fahey. Instead, there was a hiss of static, and Stewart yelped, “We’re coming around the mountain in a blue hurry, sir. Something’s got the whinnies riled up!”

  * * *

  Davis didn’t wait for the command post to relay instructions. As his own de facto fire direction center, he consulted his hand-drawn chart and called down the unconventional fire commands to the individual gun tubes.

  “Gun 4, fire TRP 3, six rounds!”

  “Gun 3, fire TRP 6, six rounds!”

  “Gun 5, fire TRP 8, six rounds!”

  Ahce continued monitoring tubes 1 and 2 as they pounded the gate and largest shelter atop the wall at the far western side. As the tubes resumed firing one round every eight to ten seconds, he couldn’t help but grin.

  If it’s stupid but it works, it ain’t stupid.

  Davis proudly noted rounds accurately falling on the top of the wall. But every round that fell inside the city made him wince. Collateral damage was inevitable, but Colonel Murphy’s orders were to minimize it as much as possible. If the attack went well, they’d be sleeping within the walls tonight. Being surrounded by live and happy citizens was imperative to the mission. No one knew how long they’d have to hold Imsurmik.

  “Drive the militia out but leave enough of a city we can defend,” Major Moorefield had said.

  The first of the tubes reached the end of their fire mission and looked to him for a new target. Davis raised his binoculars with one hand and studied the town. He held his other hand palm out to the guns, telling them to wait.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Nine

  Imsurmik

  Stewart held on for dear life. As soon as Olympia landed atop the reinforced tunnel exit from the city to the cache site, she leapt to the dirt floor and made a hooting noise. The other unmounted whinnies followed her to the ground where they rendezvoused with the riders of Alpha Section and turned east.

  “Lieutenant Stewart?” Andrechyk called. He rode up on a smaller, silvery whinnie named Frost. “None of our guys have come through the tunnel. Looks like the J’Stull are holding it. There’s a squad of them deep inside with some kind of crew-served weapon.”

  “Forget them,” Stewart replied. “If nobody’s coming through to fight us, there’s nothing here they give two shits about. We’ll sort it out later. The attack’s gonna stall if we don’t do something.”

  Andrechyk nodded but said nothing. Olympia hooted, and the big whinnie, Scout, trumpeted and ran for the cache site’s eastern entrance. Along with his mate, Athena, Major Moorefield’s mount easily crashed through the timber and wire gate and charged east along the exposed rock. Stewart held Olympia back for a moment before she igno
red him and followed the other whinnies, both mounted and unmounted. Though he’d seen firsthand how fast the whinnies could run, their speed surprised him. There hadn’t been a chance for him to say anything before Olympia tore out after the others, faster than he’d ever ridden her.

  The exposed rock outcropping between the city and the box canyon was roughly three-quarters of a mile long. Within a couple of minutes, the whinnies rounded the spur and darted west toward the thermal pool and the waterfall on Imsurmik’s eastern side. Immediately south of the falls, where a runoff creek ran from the pool to the river south of the town, was a wide, shallow marshland. With the approaching Sear, the ground didn’t appear too damp or unstable for the whinnies. As fast as they were moving, Stewart wouldn’t have been surprised to see them barely tracking mud from the ground. Ahead of him, Scout and Athena charged toward the pool, hugging the wall on its northern side. The radio crackled to life as they reestablished line-of-sight and the radios could “see” one another. Major Moorefield was asking where they were.

  Stewart grabbed the handset from his vest. “We’re coming around the mountain in a blue hurry, sir. Something’s got the whinnies riled up!”

  Scout trumpeted loud enough that Stewart heard him over the battle inside the town. The unmounted whinnies broke away from Stewart and Alpha Section. He saw Athena reach the waterfall first and climb the wet rocks with relative ease. Whatever they were going after, there was no way a mounted whinnie was going to climb the sheer vertical wall. Stewart studied the terrain ahead and rallied the section on him.

  “Over here. Let them go. We’ll go left around the pool.” He pointed at the narrow band of rock-reinforced shoreline. “Follow that and bound up to the wall. Let’s see if we can find a way to the top.”

  He realized as soon as he said it that going up a vertical wall by the waterfall versus going up the taller but not-quite-so-steep glacis seemed silly. Yet given the rough structure of the wall itself, he had a feeling the whinnies could handle the climb and not lose their rider in the process.

  Ahead, on the wall of the fortress itself, Stewart saw a potential path. While it appeared smooth and well-made in places, there was an area that looked like it may have once been breached. The patch was rough stonework that stood out from the rest of it by a couple of feet at the base and tapered up gently into the wall itself. It might have been a weak spot if they could have hit it with artillery, but without any guns bearing on this side of the city, it didn’t matter. What it provided, Stewart thought, was claw-holds and purchase for the sure-footed whinnies.

  Olympia must have seen the same thing. Without a command, she leapt onto the wall and scrambled more than halfway up in the space of a couple of heartbeats. From there, the going was tougher, but before Stewart could rein her in, she scrambled to the top of the glacis and stood spanning the two-meter-wide walkway. There were no soldiers from his vantage point all the way down to the waterfall on his right. Only a handful were visible on the first section of the wall to his left.

  They saw each other at the same moment, and both sides brought up their weapons.

  * * *

  Aliza focused on remaining perfectly still. She held her breath and willed herself to become smaller and more unnoticeable. The act brought back memories of her first days in Dachau, but here there was no crowd to shrink into and no protective adults to stand behind. Likewise, there wasn’t a gang of guards to cull a crowd where she might be lost. Her pursuer was one man, and he’d seen her enter the room. While it was much bigger than she imagined it would be, it was still just one room.

  Footsteps crunched closer.

  “Come out, woman. I don’t know who you are, but you have brought trouble. Your curiosity will be your end.”

  Aliza flexed her fingers and re-wrapped them around the grip of the pistol in her hand. Her sweaty palms made it difficult to hold steady, but she dared not reach down and dust her palms as Sergeant First Class Whittaker had taught her. Any noise could relay her position to Waornaak. Which was clearly what he was trying to provoke with his threats.

  “There’s nowhere to hide,” the man said as he searched the barrels on the far side of the room. “Sobiturni will pay me handsomely for your pretty head.”

  Aliza tried to picture his location based on the sound of his voice. If she could surprise him, she might have a chance to end their conflict before it began. She closed her eyes and listened. He was close, no doubt of that. She steadied herself and wiggled her feet as silently as possible into a better position from which to spring out—

  A powerful hand roughly grabbed her garment at the back of her neck and yanked her up. She sprawled painfully across the pile of logs and twisted herself from his grasp. Sensing freedom, Aliza brought the pistol up as she turned toward her assailant. There was a sickening smack and white-hot pain shot through her right hand and upper arm. The pistol clattered away across the stone.

  Aliza screamed in both pain and surprise. But before she could move, Waornaak stepped forward and reached for her throat. She rolled and kicked to no avail. In his free hand, he brandished one of the steel rods she’d seen; she brought up the one in her own left hand as he wound up to strike. She was able to block enough of the blow so it did not smash her skull, instead causing chips to fly up from the logs to her right.

  “Get off me!” she screamed.

  Waornaak roared and attempted to recover and strike again. “Offworlder!”

  There was another sound, an unearthly shriek that she abruptly realized was coming from her own mouth. Her right arm was useless. Tears of pain blinded her, kept her from seeing Waornaak’s face clearly. All she could do was kick and hit and try to block his attacks with her metal rod.

  There was a shattering sound, almost like a small explosion, from the door. It was immediately followed by another sound—one she’d heard before. Aliza turned her head, and the tears drained sideways long enough for her to see Athena burst through the wall abutting the waterfall. The big whinnie’s lunge carried her so far into the room that as she landed, she was already snarling and biting as the man turned to face her.

  Waornaak swung his makeshift weapon again. The blow slammed into the side of Athena’s head just behind her left eye. There was a whoosh of air from the animal’s lungs as she collapsed. Waornaak dropped Aliza and stalked toward the stunned whinnie, rod rising for a killing blow.

  Aliza rolled off the logs onto the floor and dove for the pistol. Her right arm screamed with pain, and she wondered if she’d have the strength to fire left-handed. As she wrapped her hand around the pistol’s grip and turned to aim it at Waornaak…time slowed down.

  With her left hand, she centered the sights on the back of Waornaak’s head.

  The pain in her right hand prevented her from stabilizing the pistol at all.

  She knew she could not aim well enough to hit her target.

  But she had to try.

  When the sight was centered once more, Aliza pulled the trigger…and time returned to normal.

  The bullet passed harmlessly by Waornaak’s head and chewed out a piece of the wall behind him. Instead of swinging his makeshift weapon at Athena again, he turned and leaped toward Aliza.

  She steadied the pistol and tried to aim for his center of mass, his chest above his heart, and pulled the trigger.

  The pistol bucked out of her useless hand. Waornaak snarled and advanced, the metal rod raised for another strike. Behind Athena, through the rough gap in the wall, Aliza saw Scout making his way to the top of the falls.

  He would not make it in time…

  Several shots echoed, sharp and hard, in the enclosed space. Waornaak’s face went from rage to shock. The metal staff slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. Staggering, he spun around to look behind him before toppling against the log pile.

  Behind him, Aliza saw the man named Yukannak with a pistol in his hands. His tanned face was smeared with the traditional paint; he was older than her and handsome. They locked eyes
for a moment. Scout broke down the remainder of the wall, howling over Athena. Aliza looked away from the door to the whinnies and then stood to face the man.

  She gasped in recognition. His white-hair and intense amber-gold eyes were no more native to R’bak than his features and mannerisms. He was Kulsian, possibly even Ktor. As he tucked his weapon away, their eyes locked. Neither of them spoke.

  Aliza nodded, said, “Thank—”

  The outsider ducked out of the door before Aliza could finish, let alone stop him.

  “Wait! Yukannak!”

  But he was gone. As if he’d never been there.

  Aliza heard a low groan. Athena’s eyes opened, and the big whinnie rose unsteadily to her feet. Aliza met Scout’s gaze. He’d assumed a protective posture over his mate as the others outside finished climbing the wall. The big whinnie hooted at Aliza and tossed his head behind him, as if to say he had things under control here, but that she needed to get to safety.

  Outside, the battle raged closer and louder than it had before. Looking around, Aliza saw the pistol lying in the dust and gingerly picked it up. Several shots echoed just outside the room. Scout snarled and stomped in place, shifting so that he was between the door and Athena. Hand shaking, Aliza brought the pistol up to cover the door.

  A familiar face ducked inside and swung a rifle in her direction, then stopped. He glanced at the body on the floor and back up to her. “Lieutenant Turan? You okay, ma’am?”

  “Sergeant Morton.” She grinned through the pain. “Am I glad to see you.”

  * * *

  As a young second lieutenant going through his officer’s basic course at Fort Knox, Kentucky, Bo learned from a Marine major how a combat engagement could change in a moment. A competent combat leader needed to understand the situation and decide quickly how best to seize or retain the initiative. Without question, the militia and J’Stull soldiers atop the glacis were firing into the center of town. Bo could assume they had either come apart at the seams due to a lack of leadership, or that his security element had been able to push through the western gate and get inside the city.