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CLEA
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Katrina had taken the lead as we rode through the rapidly falling snow. We had been lucky so far, with only sprinklings of it as we had ridden west.
“Are you doing all right?” I asked as I trotted up next to her.
“I’m fine, but I’m more worried about the horses.”
Nodding, I looked around and pulled out the tablet from the saddlehorn pack and turned it on, looking for the map, “We’ve been riding along an old road and following this river …the North Platte River.”
“These Old World things, they’re incredible.”
“They are. I am very fond of these undergarments.” Mara had given us sets of what she called ‘combat snuggies’, a one-piece body suit that wicked away the sweat but kept warmth in and wasn’t itchy, and sock liners made out of the same material, which meant if you got snow in your boots, it wasn’t the most miserable thing ever.
“Normally, you expect to see trees down by a river, but not here,” Katrina said. “You came this way before, didn’t you?”
“I was further south. The Republic had a few towns on this side that were being attacked, which was why I was sent.”
“Aren’t they expecting to hear back from you?”
“I sent copies of a message with some Republic residents who wanted to return home. They’ll know I’m in the middle of diplomatic negotiations with a possible ally.”
“So is that what you call the thing you and Lord Bonchance do?”
“No, that’s called sex. “
We both laughed at that as we rode on. Then my earbead buzzed. It had been, paired Bonchance called it, with the larger unit in my saddlebag, which was staying aligned to the repeater string behind us. Mara had said this system of tight beam tracking was developed for vehicles, but she had never heard of it being used on horseback; it seemed to work perfectly, though.
“Yes?”
It was Chance, “We’re being attacked, and it’s coming from roughly the direction you’re riding in. Send up the RDF unit; Mara thinks that their base might be transmitting.”
“Attacked? From the west?”
“It appears so…We already removed their scout, so we’ll be fine. You’re the ones that need to be careful.”
“Alright, but if you get hurt, I’ll be very angry,” I looked at Katrina, “Hold up. We need to check something, “ reaching into my saddle bag, I pulled out the ‘Radio Direction Finder’. After entering the frequency that Chance was displaying on my tablet, I held the device as level as I could until I got a tone and then pressed the button. There was a faint hum, and then a result appeared on my tablet.
“Chance, I have a bearing.”
“Mara sees it…We know roughly where you are...”
Mara’s voice came on, “Clea, the indication is that the source is in Guernsey, Wyoming. There was an air base there,”
“Why didn’t the Hivers drop rocks on it?”
“Tertiary field, training use only, and Guernsey had a population of less than five thousand. Why would they bother?”
“How far are we away?”
“About a day at your current speed.”
“Then closer to three or four. The snow is getting deep very quickly.”
Chance cut in, “Something just popped up; the Camp Guernsey Joint Training Center had a Ceedo installation under it, S-21.”
“That’s probably been compromised,” Mara added, “but…sending the hatch access codes to your tablet just in case.”
“Where would the entrances be?” I asked.
“I don’t know; there would be one under the main building probably, a vehicle access door possibly, and emergency exits.”
“They liked putting the emergency exits in natural hiding places, caves, cracks, hollows,” Chance said. “They’ll be tricky to find.”
“Good luck; our visitors are thirty minutes out.”
“Stay safe, all of you,” I replied before putting the equipment away.
“Well?” Katrina asked.
“We have a target.
____________________________________________________
HARI-9
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The scene in the OP was surprisingly calm as signals were being detected by the sensitive systems mounted in the bunker. Not only was an air search radar running, which had caused all the bunker’s drones to be grounded but also what seemed to be some sort of low-power Ground Surveillance system. Then there was the frequency-shifting radio.
They had stopped transmitting directly to their scout, but they were still passing information, probably a data link using their own drone high overhead to give them a much longer range. HARI-9, Bonchance, Calvin Galway, and Simon were all wearing the armored coveralls with vests and helmets and had drawn L70s from the armory. In addition, HARI-9 had also pulled a long cylinder from the armory along with a number of what looked like rockets.
“What’s that?” Simon had asked.
“A Slammer. A JF-321 Shoulder Launched Multi-Role Missile System. With the speed they’re moving, and if it’s not a pure aircraft, I‘m thinking it’s a Blower…That’s the term for a low-altitude lift vehicle. They’re not quiet, and maneuverability is awful even with venturi assist, but they’re very fast and over flatlands, water, snow, and sand…they’re amazing. They also don’t have the best armor, so one of these will kill it in one shot,” she said as she patted one of the satchels of rockets while the four entered the garage on SURFACE. “I want to capture it, though.”
“How?” Cal asked.
“You and a squad stay up here and out of sight. If it’s a Blower, they have possibly ten men at most, plus a three-man crew. Simon, you have the Slammer. When I tell you, get outside and put it on your shoulder. It has an ARM loaded, with the frequencies from their radio chatter keyed in as the hunting signal. Push that switch to take it off safe, hold it on your shoulder this end forward, and keep at least ten meters away from a building or wall behind you. Then hold the red button down until you hear a voice say ‘Ready Lock’ and then just squeeze this trigger. It will be violent and loud, but hold your position for three seconds.”
She turned to look at Cal, “They know they’re outnumbered, so they’ll be playing it stealthy and will be trying not to engage or be detected. Tell our men in the village to stay inside and under cover. The fact that it’s snowing will make targeting harder. Capturing me is most likely their goal, so they’ll be coming toward the residence. Get some men up here with L70s, just in case, but the rest of you use the self-loaders.”
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“What about you?” Bonchance asked.
“I am going after that Blower. They’ll have to land it a little way out, so we won’t hear it here, probably behind that small ridge to the northwest.”
Nodding, he sighed, “Let’s go then.”
“You’re coming?”
“You need somebody to watch out for you.”
That simple statement made HARI-9 feel good.
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O’NEILL
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“Anything from Ghost?” Hunter Four asked his team leader. The heavy weapons man had a MultiTube grenade launcher that he was just clipping a cylinder of HE warheads in.
Hunter Six shook his head, “The weather’s crap and 107s have always had issues with snow and rain. I was getting the carrier and some microphone keying, so odds are he can hear us at least. I just told him to keep his head down. When we get closer and non-directional, we should be able to get back in contact.”
“You think he’s been spotted?” Hunter Three, the sniper on the Hunter Team, asked
“It’s possible, but he’s set up a klick from the village, it’s snowing hard, and he’s using a rug, so even if they had some real tech, they would have to be crazy lucky to spot him even if they were actually looking for him.”
“Any change from the Mission Profile?” Hunter One, the medic, asked. He was slinging his aid bag and checking his K84’s charge indicator and ammo feed.
“Not really. All Command said was to grab this Duchess, find the location of any real tech, assess the salvagability of the tech, and get out…preferably without leaving much evidence. If we find good stuff, call it in, and Command will send a full recovery team while we make this entire Duchy disappear.”
“Hunter Six…” the pilot’s voice came through the leader’s helmet, “Your stop is coming up in three…”
“Roger that...Okay, everybody, it’s party time. Stay quiet; if they don’t know we’re here, they won’t try anything stupid, and stupid people always have a chance of getting lucky.”
The hovercraft shuddered and spun using the nose-mounted thrusters to compensate for the slowness of its rudder bite and slid backward to a stop. The lift fans shut down, and it was suddenly eerily quiet as it sat there with snow beginning to cover it.
“Weaps,” Hunter Six called the Blower’s Mission Specialist, “You see anything?”
“Not a thing; optics are all messed up. Radar is giving whack returns from the snow, no transmissions at least, and the only heat signatures that the eyes can punch through and see are chimneys. On the upside, Ares and Diana won’t see us either?”
“Always look on the positive, huh? Okay, we’re moving out, Captain.”
“Good hunting!” the pilot replied.
The side hatch opened, and the six members of Hunter Team in their all-white snow camo climbed down the access stairs and avoided stepping on the skirt. There were already a good 12 centimeters of snow on the ground, and the storm was still building and showing no signs of letting up.
“Two, you have point; then me, Four, One, and Five. Three, you have sweep.”
There were muttered signs of assent, and the six men formed up and began their trek toward the village, using as much cover as they could.
It was cold and snowy, and even using the thermal systems in their helmets was difficult. Torches on the palisade at the top of the ridge and the chimneys and cracks around the joists, doors, and windows of the buildings in the village were the warmest things they saw. It was clear that whatever city guard was here had headed inside, assuming, mostly correctly, to be fair, that only an absolute lunatic would attack in this weather.
The snow had started in the afternoon, and now it was pushing dusk, so the already gray light that had been there was starting to fade away as evening crept in, and by the time the team reached the Old Road, the village was built alongside, they had their IR illuminators on so they could see.
“My big gun is going to be worth crap in this stuff,” Five said, patting the soft case with his long rifle slung on his back.
“Good point. Swap with Three on sweep. “
“Roger that,” the sniper replied and moved to switch positions with the trailing rifleman. They made it to the Old Road without incident, the broken concrete not visible under the layer of still-falling snow. It was perfectly quiet except for the rustle of snowflakes in the wind and the subtle crunch under their boots.
“Damn, it’s dead,” Four whispered as he adjusted his grip on his grenade launcher. “Is Command sure that raiders didn’t beat us here?”
“Not that I was informed; the road up is to our right. Five, keep an eye on those doors to our three.”
The group was moving more quickly now. The snow was now thick enough to mask footsteps and echoes of gear rattling, along with obscuring vision. The old dirt road up to the ridge was easy to spot, as a winding and reasonably wide cleared path between the trees. They stayed off the road and moved past a larger cleared area where logging had obviously taken place, as the scattered stumps now topped with snow indicated.
“Busy beavers, aren’t they?” Two said.
“Man, imagine cutting all this by hand,” Five agreed. “Sucks to be a primitive.”
Six nodded, “Well, it’s their own damn fault.”
There was muttered agreement as they finished the last stretch and reached the palisade. Torches sputtered and danced over by the gate, casting a flickering light in a small radius. That was in no way close to revealing the team. Four shook his head, primitives.
“Grapple,” Six said quietly, and Four swapped out one of the grenades for a line launcher round.
With a soft pop, it launched the hook up and over, and, with a quick tug, Four checked its security. “We’re good.”
“Two first, then Four.”
The lead rifleman clipped his powered ascender to the line, and with its assistance, he quickly made it over the top.
“Two, status?” Six said softly as Four clipped on and prepared to make his own ascent.
There was a brief pause, and then, “All quiet,” came the whispered response over comms.
“Go Four…One, Five, Three, me…Let’s do this.”
One at a time, the team scaled the wall. As Six touched down, he saw his men surrounded by men carrying self-loaders, one with his knee on Two’s back and wearing his helmet with a gun barrel pressed into Two’s neck, and one looking straight at him, “The word you’re looking for is, oops.”
_____________________________________________________
Captain Riggins sat back in his seat and looked at the snow. Suddenly, there was a thud, and the Blower shook.
“What happened?”
“Lost the drone, sir, downdraft probably.”
“Tommy,” he called back to the Crew Chief, “Could you go out and make sure none of the debris landed in the fans?”
“Yeah, wouldn’t do us much good if she eats some,” he pulled on a parka while Weaps started warming up another drone to launch as soon as Tommy made sure that nothing had fouled the hatch. The red light did indicate something was holding it down.
There was a blast of cold air as the side hatch opened, and there was a pause, then some banging and shaking on the top of the Blower as he climbed up to the fan deck. A few minutes later, the hatch opened again, and Weaps began the launch protocol but paused when there was still a red light on his panel; turning, he asked, “Chief, did the drone bay get damaged?”
Tommy wasn’t standing there; instead, there was a snow-covered man wearing a standard Combat Helmet with a large primitive design revolver pointing it at Weaps’s face. He glanced over at Captain Riggins and saw he was being lifted out of his seat one-handed by an equally snowy woman.
‘Welcome to the Duchy of Ceedo,” the man said before flipping a sack over Weap’s head.
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BONCHANCE
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Following Mara through the snow, I watched as our footsteps were almost instantly filled with snow. Crossing the field south of where she thought the attackers would land, she suddenly grabbed me and threw me into the snow, covering me completely and caking it on.
“Ah, to reduce the thermal sensing?”
“Exactly, I can get a reading through this crap, which means they can too. Anything we can do to reduce our signature will help.”
We worked our way up the same ridge they were using to hide, and I saw a strange vehicle. I was assuming something the same rough configuration as a Gut, but it was all smooth curves like a Howler or a heavy drone, with a flat grilled top and four large pods on two low ‘Y’-shaped pairs of pylons at the front and rear. It had a stubby set of wings, like a glider.
“What is that?”
“That’s a Blower, uh, that model is a UG-43…It’s a Ceedo design; the Hi-Siders using them isn’t surprising, considering they never needed them in space. Actually, strike that, I think there were some Martian designs…Anyway, there’s a drone hovering about 500 meters up, see it?”
I looked up and switched through the various vision modes of the helmet. Occasionally, I was getting flashes of yellow heat, “Yes.”
“They can’t see us, but they can hear us if we call back. Not understand us, but know there are comms nearby.”
That made sense, “So that’s why you brought that?” I looked at the bag she had grabbed from the Field Equipment locker in the garage.”
She nodded as she set up the tight beam transmitter and aligned it with the concealed antennas built into the bunker.
“This is Duchess. Lord and I are at the target. Their team left long enough for their footprints to be filled, expect them to go over or around the palisade. Grab them; preferably capture, not kill. As soon as you have them out of action, tell Lieutenant Waterman he’s clear to fire. After he shoots, Master Michael, start the jammer. We’ll move in on his shot. Duchess Out.”