“And what would your military genius suggest?” When Kobol became angry or upset his voice ascended from its normal irritable nasal tone into a positively adenoidal whine.
Alec glanced up at him. “We have an advantage in numbers. Let’s use it! We’ll attack over a broad front, spread Douglas’s troops thin trying to defend such a large area. Bypass the firebases and strongpoints…”
“And have them chop us to shreds?” Kobol flared.
“They can’t. I’ve seen what they’ve got there. No more than ten rounds apiece for most of the heavy guns. They’ll shell us until they’re out of ammunition, then they’ll either have to come out and engage us in small groups or sit on their hilltops and wait until we come after them.”
Kobol said nothing, but his head was rocking back and forth in an unspoken negative.
“The firebases can discourage small attacks,”
Alec went on, “or attacks that are so concentrated that a few high-explosive shells can tear the attackers apart. But a broad, thin screen of attackers, moving quickly and staying as far away from the firebases as they can, will make the firebases almost useless.”
“Makes sense,” muttered one of Kobol’s men, sitting on the bench beside him.
“If he’s right about the ammunition they have for their guns.”
“I’m right,” Alec snapped. “If it’ll make you feel any better, we can grab a couple of the closest firebases the night before the attack. But the others, deeper inside Douglas’s territory, we should bypass.”
Kobol shook his head more negatively. “I don’t like leaving pockets of enemy troops in our rear. They’ll be fully armed and able to…”
Alec slammed a fist on the table. “Dammit, what’s our objective? Capturing hilltops or Douglas’s headquarters? Here’s what we’re after!”
He jabbed a finger at the base. “If we inch along one hill at a time, he can bleed us white and spend all summer delaying us while he gathers strength from the farther countryside. By next autumn we’ll be surrounded and starving. We’ve got to strike hard and fast. Here.” He touched the base area again.
“And those men in the strongpoints will just sit where they are and let us walk in?”
“That’s right,” Alec insisted. “There’s only ten or so men in each post. No more than twenty apiece. But they’re heavily armed. If we try to attack them, they can hold us up until Douglas brings his reserves onto the scene. But if we bypass them, what can a dozen or two men do to a whole column of troops? If they come down from their hilltops to attack us, they’ll be cut to pieces.”
“They still have that artillery.”
“After the first half hour of fighting, the artillery will be out of ammo.”
“They could still knock off a lot of trucks and men.”
“Not if we move fast and stay spread out.”
“I don’t know…” Kobol hesitated.
More quietly, Alec said, “I do know. We’re going to do it this way. We can win quickly and with low casualties.” The back of his mind was whispering, And I can get to Angela before anyone else does.
Kobol was staring at him, eyes glittering, “It’s not your decision to make.”
“Yes it is.”
His hands spread flat on the map, as if to ensure ownership, Kobol said, “You can’t possibly assume that you’re still…”
“I’m in command,” Alec said evenly. “No one has relieved me of command. You’ll take orders from me, Martin.”
Kobol tried to laugh, but it froze in his throat.
His mouth twitched. He glanced at the men sitting on either side of him, facing Alec.
Alec said nothing. For a long wordless minute they sat glaring at each other; Alec with his two youngsters and Kobol with his men flanking him.
“I think Alec’s plan will work,” Jameson said.
He was still leaning against the hatchway. The gun at his hip loomed enormous. He was slightly turned, facing Kobol, gunhand free and resting easily at his side.
“The men I’ve assembled don’t know you,”
Kobol said to Alec. “They won’t take orders from you.”
“They know me,” Jameson said flatly. “They’ll follow where I lead them.”
Kobol glowered at Jameson and let his breath out in a hiss of frustrated rage. “So that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“That’s the way it is,” Jameson answered, calm as a hawk circling its prey.
Alec said, “To prevent any misunderstandings, Martin, I think you’d better stay with me until the army gets here. Ron, you take this boat back and assume command of the troops.”
A smile flickered across Jameson’s face.
“You’re giving them a lot more dignity than they deserve. They’re not troops, they’re just a big gang. Hardly any discipline. They’re coming up here for the spoils. They’ll fight your way, Alec. But they’d never stand up in a toe-to-toe battle.”
“Whatever you want to call them, then,” Alec said. “Get back to them and move them up here. As soon as the ground’s dry enough to maneuver, we attack.”
“And when you get back to the settlement,”
Kobol spat, “I’ll have you executed. I’ll make your mother sign your death warrant!”
Alec smiled at him. “That’s assuming that you make it back to the settlement, Martin.”
Chapter 26
The rain was steady, heavy, and driven by a numbingly cold wind. The ground beneath the horse’s hooves was unending mud that made obscene sucking noises with each laborious step. The horse was big, powerful, uncomplaining, but it could not go much farther without rest, Alec knew.
Still he pressed on, urging the horse forward with his boots. He was heavily muffled inside a leather coat and hood but the wetness had seeped into him until he felt that icewater was trickling through his veins.
Squinting through the rain and mist, Alec saw that the little stream he had reached had turned into a churning, brown foaming channel that carried tree branches and other debris madly onward.
Won’t be able to ford that, he knew.
“Ho-ho!” a familiar voice called. “There you are.”
Turning slightly in the rain-slicked saddle, Alec saw Will Russo’s bulky form pacing slowly out of the mist, leading a droopy-headed horse step by sloshing step through the mud.
“How did you cross the stream?” Alec blurted.
“Oh, further up. It’s not so bad up there.”
Alec slid off his horse and walked, with an effort, toward the advancing man. “Is your wound all healed up?” he asked.
Will nodded and a thatch of red hair, glistening with dampness, flopped down from under his hood. “Oh sure, been fine for months now. I got back to Utica and, by golly, the rest of the whisky was still there. You?”
“I’m okay.”
Will grinned at him. “For a fish. Look, there’s a little cave a bit further upstream. Let’s get out of this weather.”
They led the horses through the mud and rain for a few minutes and found the cave. It was more of a purposely dug shelter in the hillside than a natural cleft. The inner walls were smooth and even, Alec noticed, as he made a mental note of its location and size.
“I was glad to get the message your scout gave our scout,” Will said once they had pulled the horses inside the narrow shelter. “I was worried about you, you know.”
Alec was unbuttoning his coat. “Nothing in here for a fire…”
“That’s okay.” Will rummaged through the pockets of his voluminous coat. “Brought a little… aha! Here it is.” He produced a small dark green bottle. “Saved you some of the whisky.”