David Drake: The Forlorn Hope

"Well," said Lieutenantben Mehdi, "the attendant ran away. Big deal."

Sergeant Hummel frowned. Passers-by were nervously watching the van and the troops around it. The squad was a nexus for the crisis that worried the civilians. "Maybe," said Hummel, "and maybe they decided there wasn't any way to hold this side." She waved at the blank wall across the peripheral boulevard. It was defended only by the empty kiosk and a tipping-bar gate. "Let's you and me walk through and see what's on the other side, Lieutenant."

Ben Mehdi went cold. Trooper Powers got out of the cab on her own side. "I'll go along," she said.

"Not till you learn some Czech, Bunny," said the non-com. Her voice sounded light until it cracked. "Lieutenant, leave that-" she pointed to the grenade launcher-"and take Diesson's rifle." She looked up at the troopers around her. "How's Dwyer?" she asked.

"Be okay if he gets to Doc pretty quick," said one of the men. "The Captain's coming around, sort of."

Hummel nodded. "Okay. Diesson, you're in charge. If this one's blocked, head for the ramp- Hodicky'll know where to find it. Let's go, Lieutenant."

Ben Mehdi followed the Sergeant numbly. There was, by Allah, no question of who was in charge, not here. He supposed he should be thankful to be considered an acceptable follower at a time like this. She would not have brought him a month ago, the bitch.

The Lieutenant was getting dizzy, in part because his torso was too tight to permit him to breath. His clam-shell armor had not been among the loot in theKatynForest.

Hummel glanced into the kiosk as they walked past it. The little booth was as empty as it had appeared to be from across the street. They could flip the pole up easily if they wanted. The van would not even have to break it off as they drove into the tunnel. "Well, who knows, Lieutenant?" the non-com said as she settled her rifle where she wanted it. "You might even be right about everything being clear."

They started down.

The tunnel dipped, then rose in a single fluid curve. Like the berm itself, the tunnel was designed to redirect a blast. It was quite impossible to hope to absorb the full potential of a fusion unit. The tunnel was concrete lined and three meters high, although the vehicular height was less since roof lines cut the chord rather than following the arc. There were steps along the right wall, but the two mercenaries kept to the vehicle way. The grade lengthened ben Mehdi's strides despite his nervousness.

The tunnel was only fifty meters long. The mercenaries were halfway through, at the nadir of the curve, when six armed soldiers appeared in silhouette at the spaceport end. "All right!" one of them shouted. "State your business."

"Sir," Hussein ben Mehdi called back, too caught up in the situation to be worried about the quality of his Czech, "we were ordered to stand by at the freighterBoudicca and await further orders." He could not tell the sex, much less the rank, of the troops because the bright daylight was behind them. Their weapons were clear enough, though. Automatic rifles like the one he carried, deadly in trained hands as his were not… and the squat, solid outline of a heavy grenade launcher whose capacity ben Mehdi was well able to imagine. But Allah would not permit his servant to be trapped in this hollow killing ground when A seventh figure strode against the background of the sky. "What's this?" the newcomer demanded. "You there, drop those guns! And-say, / know you!"

It was the Morale Section Colonel who had met theKatynForest when she docked.

"Run!" shouted Jo Hummel as she sprayed the Federal soldiers. Ben Mehdi ran, because there was nothing else to do.

The Colonel and two of his squad flopped face down on the concrete. The others sprang away as if flung by the muzzle blasts. The angle protected them from the second burst which Hummel sent up the tunnel as she herself turned. The opening behind her danced with motes of concrete settling upon the bodies.

"Tell-" the Lieutenant heard her shout. Then the grenade went off.

There was no reality in the tunnel but that of the blast. The Federal grenadier had lobbed the round in without exposing himself to rifle fire. That showed a competence the Lieutenant could appreciate, even as the shock wave pitched him forward. The grenade detonated on the tunnel roof. The curve protected even Sergeant Hummel from the shrapnel that rusticated the smooth concrete from which it ricochetted. Ben Mehdi glanced back as he rose. The Sergeant was sprawled in a fog of white lime and smoke from the bursting charge. She did not move, the bitch, thebitch, and the Lieutenant scrambled back to her side.

The shadows against the dust-smeared daylight were more than bodies and blast residues now. Federal troops were peering into the tunnel to see whether the grenade had cleared it. Ben Mehdi swung his rifle toward them. The unfamiliar weapon would not fire. Perhaps the safety was still on or he had not charged the rifle properly. He threw it down and began dragging Hummel by the arms.

A rifle bullet winked on the tunnel wall and spattered both mercenaries with bits ofitself. "Hold it there, you swine!" one of the oncoming figures shouted. The Federal's instincts were those of a policeman, not a combat soldier. At the moment, ben Mehdi was as defenseless as any deserter dragged out of an attic.

"Get down!" somebody cried in English.

The Lieutenant threw himself flat. Trooper Iris Powers squatted on the steps, halfway down the slope. She held her weapon low. The first armor-piercing projectile would bring a storm of automatic fire which would sweep all three of them into The little blonde emptied her magazine in a single twenty-round burst that was almost a directed explosion. Not even Del Hoybrin could have stood up to that recoil and kept the muzzle down. Powers managed by butting the weapon against a step and letting the concrete instead of her shoulder receive the jack-hammer blows. Precise aim was as impossible as it was unnecessary. The osmium projectiles ricocheted instead of shattering like bullets from the assault rifles. Buzzing projectiles and chunks of concrete ripped through the dusty tunnel like a round of canister.

Lieutenant ben Mehdi rose to his hands and knees again. His fingertips were bleeding from the way he had unconsciously tried to dig himself into the pavement. It hurt his hands too much to drag Hummel. He threw one of the non-com's arms over his shoulder and began to stagger up the slope with her in a packstrap carry.

Iris Powers did not help him with the burden. She reloaded and backed out behind the others with her weapon to her shoulder. Twice she fired into the reeking fog. The mercenaries were well clear before there was return fire from the inner mouth of the tunnel.

The truck and the troops with it waited as the trio stumbled back across the boulevard. There were sirens converging on them from three directions. To their rear, the wall around the port was as bleak as the one against which the condemned are stood.

She caught the signal just as another dummy message began to cycle through the transmitter. Foyle's hand flashed out and killed the transmitter's power in time for her to catch his tag, "-in Allah's name, Big Brother!"

Sookie Foyle slapped in the patch which fed all the intercoms into the main unit. "Big Brother has you," she said, hearing echoes of her voice from the bridge speakers and each compartment stern-ward in a reflected-mirror pattern. "Hold one for-"

Before the Communicator could get the word out, Sergeant Mboko's voice boomed "White One to Sister, tell us what you need."

Foyle listened with her eyes open as she always did. If her duties had required her to find a switch or dial instantly, her body would have responded. Her mind was in the world of visualized sounds crackling out of the speaker.