As Tygg headed down to the basement, Trevor walked to the front of the building, found Witkowski crouched in the same concealed position he’d been in since entering the building. “What’s the good word, Stosh?”
“All quiet on the Western Front.”
“Winfield?”
“Still no sign of him. Don’t worry. He’s a tough kid from Watts.”
“Stosh, Jake Winfield’s from Greenwich, Connecticut.”
“Well, his grandmother—or grandfather, or someone—still lives in Watts. And he visited them. Once. Well, he wanted to, anyway.”
Trevor smiled. “Stosh, you are insane.”
“I am inspired. They are frequently confused.”
Trevor nodded in the direction of Harmoni Square. “What else can you tell me?”
“No cell chatter since our big bright white ones went off at twelve o’clock high. Fried the net, I’m guessing. A few unattached insurgents skulking around, giving the Roach Motel a wide berth.”
“And the Arat Kur security forces?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say they’d left when no one was looking.”
“No more Hkh’Rkh search-and-destroy squads, either?”
“Not since Gavin introduced the last bunch of Sloths to the wonders of long-range marksmanship.”
John Gavin had caught the Hkh’Rkh elites flatfooted with the Remington assault gun, ran them straight into Stosh and Tygg’s combined field of fire. Trevor had wanted to avoid an engagement, but the Hkh’Rkh NCO had evidently arrived at the same conclusion that Trevor had come to an hour earlier: that this particular building was an ideal spot for an OP and several sniper nests. Unfortunately, as Stosh pointed out later, multiple tenancy was strictly prohibited within the city limits and the human commandos had enforced that exclusionary law with a decisive application of firepower. “Stosh,” Trevor said quietly, “tell our local recruits we’re ready to move. Should be getting the go signal for the final attack any minute, now.”
“Bringing news like that, they’ll probably try to kiss me.”
Trevor stared at the homely SEAL. “Not a chance, chief.”
“Woe is me, unwanted and unloved. Any other heartbreaking orders?”
“Yeah. Tell the locals who laid the demo charges that they need to talk us through the triggering sequence again.”
“How hard can it be, Skipper? We press the buttons. The charges they laid in a nice straight row go off one after the other, blowing open a path from our front door right into the Roach Motel.”
“Simple in concept, Stosh, but I want to get the timing exactly right. And I want them to run a remote circuit-test of the charges that the inside agents placed along the compound’s inner walls. If the Arat Kur or Hkh’Rkh found and removed them, I want to know that before we start running up our own highway of destruction—only to find ourselves bouncing off the still-intact compound walls.”
“Yeah, that wouldn’t be much fun. I’ll send the fireworks boys up on the double.”
Trevor squinted at the closest enemy hardpoint, only eighty meters away, brooding outward into Majahapit Street from the gutted Chamber of Commerce building. I watch you and, maybe, you watch me. Or maybe you figure that since this building is quiet, your hit-squad cleared at least this much turf for you. He checked his watch. Ten minutes until their final assault on the west perimeter was to get the “go-no go” signal. That presumed, of course, that the second-hand messaging remained accurate. The word had come via a runner from another large mob moving slowly north along streets paralleling Merdeka Square on the east, who had in turn received it from one of the tunnel rats who were manning the fiber-com net under the streets somewhere to the north. And today, in Jakarta, that was about as high-quality a message a anyone was going to get.
Trevor felt as much as heard movement behind him. Bannor Rulaine was there, an extra eight-millimeter CoBro assault rifle in hand. Trevor nodded his thanks. “Thanks for building us that Faraday cage, Bannor.”
“Not a problem. Never imagined I’d ever have use for that particular bit of training. Spent years thinking it had been a waste of six hours of my very important life. But our intact electronics and RAPs should give us the edge we need.”
“I sure hope so, Bannor.” Trevor looked back at the enemy hardpoint, wondered if the demo charges would take it down as planned, wondered what lay beyond it. “I sure hope so.”
Caine rubbed his left forearm with his right hand. Was that pain ever going to go away? He hadn’t felt any discomfort there since his abortive attempt to leave Indonesia, but here it was, back again: a sharp stabbing sensation, racing along his ulna.
Caine leaned forward, checked the command center’s side door to see if the departing Hkh’Rkh had possibly neglected to post a guard there. Nope, still one on duty, rifle held at port arms. No way to get out and warn Yaargraukh that Graagkhruud and his retinue had left the room looking like Macbeth’s henchmen being sent to kill Banquo. And just wait until First Voice hears who Hu’urs Khraam is now trying to reach on the radio, and why. That ought to be worth the price of admission.
It was Hu’urs Khraam himself who jarred Caine out of his train of thought. “Once we have contacted your people, Speaker Riordan, I will be grateful to have you help us assess their intentions.”
“First Delegate Khraam, surely you are not asking me to be a traitor.”
“I am only asking you to do what you have already done: provide us with insight regarding human actions. Your observations have been far more useful and perspicacious than those of our—special advisors. It was you who helped us understand the slow approach of the interceptors, after all.”
“True, First Delegate. But I did so because I am here to help you and my people both find a way to avoid further fighting. By sharing that information with you, I served that purpose. I am not here to help you fight, or gain an advantage in negotiations, against my own people.”
Hu’urs Khraam considered. “But you will help us perceive correctly if we seem to be misperceiving?”
“Of course.”
The Arat Kur communications specialist signaled Hu’urs Khraam. He had a senior representative of the human command structure on the line. The First Delegate rose up slightly. “Hello? To whom am I speaking?”
The human voice that responded was the same one that had contacted them earlier. Caine kept himself from smiling.
Because it was Downing. “First Delegate Hu’urs Khraam, I am glad to speak to you.”
Hu’urs Khraam paused. “My apologies, but am I speaking to Delegate Downing?”
“That is correct.”
“My apologies. I did not recognize your voice when my subalternate Urzueth Ragh spoke with you earlier.”
“That is quite understandable, First Delegate. We had little contact at the Convocation, and this has been a busy and difficult day.”
“Indeed. Mr. Downing, forgive what may seem an impertinent question, but why am I not addressing Mr. Ching or another Confederation consul directly?”
“Because we only have this one, prearranged link between us, running through the transmitter you approved. And we are unwilling to route any commlinks through to our heads of state. Your human collaborators might have a way to track back the connection and thereby provide you with targeting coordinates. Unlike Mr. Ching, I am quite expendable—despite my plenipotentiary negotiating powers.”
“I see. Very well. You will note that we have elected to observe your directive not to attack your rising interceptors, Mr. Downing. For now. This is an act of good faith, which we hope will set the tone for the rest of these discussions.”