"Piter?"
"I'm with you, Captain. We can't go back now.”
“You're right about that," he said, looking into the dark beyond their little fire. "God help us, we can't."
20
Tollen Brasednewic shifted the 5mm laser rifle nervously in his arms. He was crouched at Grayson's side in the dense underbrush of the slope above the road across the Basin Rim. "They're coming,"he said, eyes fixed on the lower ground.
"I hear them," Grayson said, cradling a TK assault rifle salvaged from the Phobosafter the landing. He checked the 100-round magazine cassette fitted into the weapon's stock, but did not look in the direction of the sound that was beginning to penetrate the rustle of wind and the shrieks of aviforms in the jungle canopy. "You'd better give the signal."
The merging of rebels with mercenaries into a single combat unit was a touchy business. Technically, Brasednewic held the militia rank of Colonel, outranking Grayson's rank of Captain. In actuality, the two shared command, but Grayson was well aware that the red-bearded rebel resented having to take some orders from an offworlder. After all, the rebels had been fighting their Kurita occupier for ten years. What could offworld mercenaries teach them about war?
Brasednewic pulled out a palm-sized transceiver, flicked it on, and pressed a sender switch three times in quick succession. Kurita commo operators might hear the brief burst of carrier-wave static or the three rapid clicks, but it would carry no information for them, might not even be noticed. To the rebel and mercenary troops hiding in the jungle, the signal carried message aplenty. They’re coming. Be ready!
The dull creak and clank of an approaching heavy ‘Mech was louder now, mingled with the shrill keening of hovercraft. Grayson moved the TK around to the side of his body on its web sling and brought the electronic binoculars hanging from his neck up to his eyes. The road a hundred meters further up the slope was empty, but he had the scanner turned on a patch of ground farther down, not far from where he and Tollen were hiding. Nothing showed. No sign of digging revealed what they had done to the road.
When the lead vehicle came into view, it proved to be not a ‘Mech, but a two-man scout hovercraft fitted with the antennae loops and magnetic gear of a mine detector. As it skimmed centimeters above the road, the craft's electronic sensors could probe the ground surface for metal, could probe the air itself for the lingering effluvium of various chemical explosives. From a safe distance, its sensors could detect mines buried on the road. These could be marked, disarmed, or exploded ahead of the advancing column of BattleMechs.
A hundred meters behind the hovercraft came the ‘Mechs. In the lead were a Stingerand the odd, forward-jutting shape of a 35-ton JR1-D Jenner.Behind them were more hovercraft, open-topped and crowded with brown-garbed Kurita soldiers. Behind them were two more ‘Mechs, a TBT-5N Trebuchetand a Centurion,both 50 tonners.
The mine detector slowed as it came almost opposite Grayson's and Brasednewic's position. Had its sniffers detected explosives? Or perhaps it caught the scent of the rebel troops who had passed that way only moments before. Or perhaps they were using an IR scanner to spot footprints visible as still-glowing patches of fading heat on the road.
Grayson hoped that the precautions they'd taken were enough. He'd had a small army of rebels walk down the hill past that spot, creating the effect of a large number of troops marching into the jungle. There should be nothing particularly ominous about that, especially because the stranded DervishGrayson was using as bait was hidden only a kilometer farther down slope.
Montido's Dervishhad provided the perfect bait. Tarpaulins and branches of jungle foliage had kept it shielded from orbiting Kurita spysats until the clear, cloudless morning that Grayson had ordered the camouflage be removed for a few hours. Though the rebels did not know at precisely what time the satellites would pass overhead, it was certain that the Combine forces would be watching the forest between the Basin Rim and the sea with great care. The crippled Dervishand the flares of the welding torches wielded by a small army of Techs and astechs working to get it operational again, would be clearly visible to the senses of any satellite or spacecraft passing a few hundred kilometers above.
Within two hours, rebel scouts at the edge of the Bluesward had reported enemy ‘Mechs and hovercraft moving rapidly toward the Basin Rim. The ambushers, their weapons and special equipment chosen and readied ahead of time, rushed to their hiding places.
Now the Kurita force was moving down the road toward the crippled Dervish.Grayson had cautioned the ambushers beforehand that the enemy would be coming slowly and cautiously. They would realize that the appearance of the Dervishin their path could be bait for a trap, but they would try to arrive with enough force to thwart such a possibility.
The hovercraft with the mine detection gear hummed and skreeled on laboring fans just below Grayson's position, kicking up clouds of dust. Moving slowly, Grayson brought up his electronic binoculars again and studied carefully the ground beneath the hovecraft’s plenum chamber. He could see nothing suspicious there, but had the enemy detected something? When the hovercraft tilted forward slightly and continued down the slope, Grayson breathed again. At his side, he felt Brasednewic breathe a sigh of relief, too.
The real targets of the ambush approached. Both men tensed again as the Jennerand the Stingerlumbered closer, low-hanging branches and vines scratching and catching at their hulls, then snapping free as they passed. Grayson froze into immobility. The ‘Mechs' cockpits were level with his own position on the hill, and the pilots would be alert for an ambush. The greatest danger, however, lay with the rebel forces in the surrounding jungle. It would take only one man to panic or to discharge his weapon accidentally and early or to misunderstand orders that had been repeated and discussed again and again. Sometimes it seemed that there was always at least one guy who didn't get the word.
The two lead ‘Mechs continued past without incident, and then a trio of troop carriers drifted down the slope on dust-boiling cushions of air. The soldiers aboard the open-decked hovercraft were Kurita regulars in uniforms of dull orange-brown under sleeveless protective jackets of darker brown armor cloth. Some carried flamers, while others cradled portable lasers or rapid-fire assault rifles. On each vehicle, one man stood behind a pintel-mounted weapon just aft of the covered, armored driver's cab. One swivelled a medium laser back and forth, as though fearful that the surrounding trees were going to suddenly bend down and attack. The other two rode shotgun, with heavy machine guns trailing long and glittering belts of linked ammo.
The troop carriers whining past at the speed of a slow walk were tempting, vulnerable targets. Don't fire, anyone,Grayson willed. Don't move. Don't fire...
The troop carriers passed, moving down the steep road, and none of the rebel forces had given away the ambush. As he watched the next pair of ‘Mechs approach, excitement surged in his chest and set his heart to hammering. A Centurion,followed by a Trebuchet.Slowly, moving only centimeters at a time to keep from registering on the motion sensors that could be mounted on those ‘Mechs, Grayson carried the transceiver to his lips. As he fixed his eyes on the spot on the road directly below, his heart beat harder. He could see where the passage of three more hovercraft had uncovered a bit of nylon rope carefully buried hours before. So far, however, the enemy had not noticed that telltale clue.