— 19 —
"The tanks will go first," Bull told them. "Skimmers will follow up tight behind. And further questions?" He paused. "Good. We'll move out in five minutes. The formation will be the platoon wedge. My platoon will form the left side, Foxtrot Alpha Tango will take the right. The infantry will follow up in a three-platoon wedge. Lieutenant Smyth's platoon will be in the van, Alpha and Bravo on the left and right. If there's any difficulty, Alpha and Bravo will hold position to form a defensive screen for the softskinned vehicles. The two tank platoons will engage fire and move with Lieutenant Smyth's platoon, supporting as required. Is that clear?" Bull engaged the eyes of each lieutenant in turn. They all nodded. "Very well, let's move."
As the lieutenants dispersed, Bull climbed into his hovertank and readjusted his navigation display. With practiced fingers he adjusted his helmet and positioned the boom mike.
"Fire up the fans, Timmons," he told his driver. "Ennis, how's our ammo?"
"Fully loaded, sir," Corporal Ennis replied in a tone that indicated just a little bit of hurt that his lieutenant would have to ask.
"Very good." To his comm chief he said, "How about it, Sara?"
"Not so good, sir," Sara Engles replied. "Central control says that we're going to be out of contact with them almost immediately. As for the rest of the group, we'll have no problem."
"Very good. Give me the platoon push," Bull told her. "Lariat Two this is Lariat Two Six, report."
The throaty voice of Sergeant Lewis was the first back to him. "Two Zero," Lewis said.
"Two Eight," Sergeant Gleeson reported.
"Two Four," Sergeant Healey responded, finishing the roll.
"Roger," Bull agreed. "Prepare to move on my orders. We will form the lest flank of the wedge, standard formation." He continued to the combat group, knowing that Sara Engles would switch frequencies for him, "Foxtrot, this is Foxtrot Six. Report."
"Foxtrot Alpha Tango, ready," Lieutenant Dyer reported.
"Foxtrot India, ready," Smyth told him.
"Foxtrot Alpha India, ready," Lieutenant Peyton replied.
"Foxtrot Bravo India, ready and awaiting orders," Bravo's platoon leader responded.
Bull poked his head out of the hatch and brought his command seat up under him. With a look around, he saw that all of his force was hovering on their fans. Behind them he could see the mass of trucks and other softskinned vehicles that Operations had hastily collected. Inside the tank Engles was examining her radios, ready to outguess her commander yet again. Ennis had his head out the other hatch, peering forward and then backward with an occasional surreptitious glance at his commander. Bull glanced down at the vision blocks inside the turret and adjusted one for three sixty display. Then he made sure that his foot was safely away from the main gun's pedal trigger and that the big gun was loaded and ready. The fat safety glowed red; the great two-hundred-millimeter gun was ready to deal death.
"Central, this is Foxtrot. Prepared to move. Over," Bull reported to Central.
"This is Central." Colonel Hammer's rasp made it all too plain exactly who it was. "Move out."
"Roger. Out," Bull replied. To his combat group he said, "Foxtrot this is Foxtrot Six, move out." To his driver he said: "Roll it!"
"Righto, sir!" His driver was drowned out by the platoon responding as if in one voice: "This is Foxtrot Alpha Tango, roger. Foxtrot India, roger. Foxtrot Alpha India, Roger. Foxtrot Bravo India, roger." Above the radio traffic the huge roar of eight hovertank fans and the smaller skimmer fans of twelve infantry squads beat the air.
Combat Group Foxtrot moved out of the compound. As expected, Dyer's tank platoon took the road to the right while Bull's tank platoon took the road to the left. Outside of town they regrouped again on the main road, his platoon on the left and the other on the right. Bull decided that Lieutenant Dyer was doing all right. He swiveled to look behind him and saw the infantry skimmers fanned out in proper order. In training or not, Bull decided, those three platoons were doing all right. Further behind them, the softskinned vehicles were tearing down the road. The weather was sunny and clear.
They reached the junction in ten minutes. Off to the right Bromley could distinguish a forest. To the left were open fields and the road that led to Plains. The combat group turned left.
"Foxtrot Tango, Foxtrot Alpha Tango, increase your dispersion to two hundred meters. Keep you eyes open," Bull said over the combat-group frequency. With such a gap he would have coverage eight hundred meters to either side of the road. It made him edgy not to have better coverage, but he didn't want his tanks to lose sight of each other.
"Roger," Lieutenant Dyer of Alpha Tango replied.
The march from the junction to Plains eased Bull's misgivings somewhat. There were several motorists on the road, showing signs of alarm at the movements of his forces, but that was reassuring. If the motorists weren't there or looked relieved, it would indicate to Bull that something was wrong.
Outside of Plains he ordered the two outermost sections of the tank platoons to perform a pincer recon around the outskirts of the town. They reported nothing out of the ordinary. Relieved, Bull moved the rest of his tanks through the village. Townspeople quickly cleared the streets. Some appeared very apprehensive. Perhaps they feared that the Slammers would repeat the atrocities of the Raiders. The thought upset Bull, but it was clear to him that common folk would never understand what drove a man to become a mercenary or what kept him in the trade.
The memory came into Bull's mind unbidden. Murea had been a lovely planet, and he had been born to riches. He was Braddington Paul Bromley, the fourth of that name. Early on he had been trained in the martial arts and military skill. Murea was peaceful but it had not always been so. It was his honor to join the armed forces of his planet, as a commissioned officer, of course.
Murea decided it was her honor to aid the ruling class of Artair, a planet in another solar system, and so off Bull had gone. He was soon disillusioned, of the war and of the people he was fighting for. On Murea his ruling class had put the welfare of the people above their own welfare. On Artair the ruling class crushed, and he found himself fighting on the side of the crushers. Worse, they fought badly. When his Murean men died in the many skirmishes of the war, they were replaced by half-trained recruits from Artair itself. These were sullen and poor fighters drafted from the middle and lower classes. Even so, Bull upheld his honor and trained his new men to fight as best they could. His unit was not armored, but consisted of several very old armored personnel carriers and a few wheeled jeeps. Still, Bull's Bucks did themselves proud in combat—until they faced the mercenary regiment of Colonel Alois Hammer.
Bull's Bucks fought three engagements with the Slammers and gave ground in each. Against the might of hovertanks, combat cars, and satellite-guided artillery, there was nothing Bull could do. He had no weaponry that could penetrate the armor of a hovertank, and the smallest powergun went through his armored cars like a knife through butter. He was captured as his force disintegrated in the fire of the third engagement. Not that two APC's and a few ground troops could be called a force. The Slammers treated him well enough. As a gentleman of honor, he was allowed parole in the confinement area.
It was there he had found out that his home world had pulled out of the war, disgusted by the very people it had sent aid to succor. Having changed its mind, Murea wanted no reminders of its mistake. Murea refused to ransom him back. As the war closed, with victory going to the Slammers, Bull found himself without the means to buy passage home. The new government of Artair bore him no ill will and released him to do as he pleased. He had no money to contact his kin and no way to tell them that he was still alive. With a firm resolve, he had walked from the exit of the confinement barracks to the enlistment office of Hammer's regiment.
"Lieutenant." The voice of Sara Engles brought him back to the present.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Sergeant Lewis, sir."
"Go ahead, Sam," Bull said to his platoon sergeant.
"I don't know if it's important, sir, but I caught a glint from that hill to the southwest of us," Sam Lewis told him.
"Sounds about right," Bull agreed. It made sense. Now he knew why he'd been thinking back to Murea. That mountain was a perfect place to hide some tanks. They would have an excellent chance to fire on the plains, maybe three full salvos before the powerguns of his panzers could level the mountain. Maybe more. "How many, do you know?" Bull asked.
"I'm on IR and I can't count 'em yet," Lewis replied.
Bull thought, if infrared couldn't detect the tanks, they must have had their engines off for a while or they'd taken good hull-down positions. But even hull down, the heat from their exhausts would give them away, which meant that they must have their engines off. The Raiders, though not very good tankers, knew that Bull's powerguns would get them unless they could move after every shot. It bothered Bull that they would take such a chance.
"Sara, send Central a spot report and put me on Tango Alpha's push." As soon as Bull heard the squawk that indicated his frequency had changed, he said, "Dyer, check your area. We've got a spot report over here."
"Roger," Dyer replied calmly. "You heard the man, take a good look around," he said to his platoon.
On a lower level Bull heard his communications chief relaying the spot report to Central and Central noting it calmly.
"Sergeant Hopkins here, sir." The voice boomed in Bull's helmet. "I think I see something in the forest ahead."
"Sara, Sergeant Major!" Bull ordered. "Ogren, ground!"
"Roger," Sergeant Major Ogren replied. "All vehicles off road."
"Foxtrot this is Foxtrot Six," Bull told his combat group. "We have two enemy positions ahead: one on the mountain to the southwest, the other in the forest to the north. Foxtrot Tango and Foxtrot Alpha India will engage to the west. Foxtrot Alpha Tango and Foxtrot Bravo India will engage to the north. Foxtrot India will ground in Plains and render assistance as required to the softskinneds."
"Alpha India, roger."
"Alpha Tango, roger."
"Bravo India, roger."
"Foxtrot India, wilco," Smyth finished the acknowledgments.
"You skimmers make sure you stick close by the tanks," Bull told them. "Move out!"
Bull's tank and the other tank in his section, Lariat Two Eight, started toward the mountain with a squad of skimmers behind each hovertank. Without having to be told, Timmons grounded the huge panzer after they had come a kilometer. Behind him and over his helmet speakers, Bull could hear Sergeant Lewis and the other tank section roaring along to leapfrog beyond him. Four bolts flashed from the mountain to land in front of him. When he could see again, he saw that Lewis's tank had taken a glancing blow but was gamely moving on, a bright streak showing where part of its armor had been melted.
"Foxtrot, this is Alpha Tango," Dyer reported. "We are engaging two tanks in the forest."
"Roger." Bull acknowledged. "We've got four here."
The enemy has a total of six tanks, four on the mountain and two in the forest. Their firepower is being combined and they are well hidden. Each tank has an Ordnance value of 2.
Lieutenant Bromley's forces consist of eight hovertanks and twelve squads of skimmers, including Lieutenant Smyth's platoon's supporting fire. The Ordnance value of Bull's panzers is 4 each while each skimmer infantry squad has an Ordnance value of 2. Total the two attack values, and alternate casualties.
The enemy will exchange no more than three volleys with Group Foxtrot, then withdraw. The enemy uses Chart C, while the Slammers use Chart B.
If the enemy is destroyed or driven off, turn to section 25.
If the enemy succeeds in destroying Group Foxtrot, turn to section 29.