Warrior, coupe

  Stunned, Dan looked up at his commanding officer. "How do you ... ? Why didn't you tell me before?" Anger flashed through him, but ultimately proved as elusive as the other emotions he'd sought to capture. A realization formed itself into one word and he repeated that word in a hushed voice. "Heimdall."

  Morgan nodded. "Jeana and her family were Heimdall. I don't believe Clay was her original surname—I only knew her father as Grison. After our return to the Lyran Commonwealth, Arthur Luvon created and had placed into the LIC computers a whole series of new identities for the families and survivors of the Poulsbo Heimdall cell that helped us. In fact, it was through a scholarship created by Arthur that Jeana went to Sanglamore."

  Dan sank back into the chair and pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. "All this sleight of hand. Melissa's double is a woman who belongs to an opposition movement. Duke Aldo Lestrade's son belongs to the same group, and his father does the best he can to cause a whole Heimdall settlement on New Freedom to be destroyed. Secret files in the LIC computer." His hands fell away from his eyes. "Simon Johnson would go mad if he knew about this."

  Morgan shook his head slowly. "I don't think so." He stood and came around to sit on the front of his desk. "Simon Johnson is the one who put Jeana's new identity in the computer, and her connection with Heimdall is the reason Johnson selected her to be Melissa's double."

  In shock, Dan's jaw dropped. "Simon Johnson, the head of the LIC, is a member of Heimdall?'

  Morgan smiled wryly. "Recall that we are a group formed from the loyal opposition. We knew it would be useful for us to have people inside the Lyran Intelligence Corps. Especially after Poulsbo, I must that admit Arthur, Patrick, and I used to laugh about Alessandro's elevation of Simon. The idea of Alessandro relying on a member of Heimdall to help identify Heimdall cells and destroy them is gratifying."

  Dan nodded weakly. "You didn't tell me about Jeana because I'm not Heimdall?" Unspoken was Dan's sense of betrayal, but it was expressed in his tone.

  Morgan reached out and squeezed Dan's forearm. "You may never have been formally inducted into Heimdall, but you might as well be a member. Regardless, I would have told you that much about her if I'd known it earlier. I didn't get that information until this message came in. Clovis appended the data."

  Dan gave Morgan a feeble smile. "Thank you." He looked down at the knotted sash and used it to focus himself. His voice flattened out, barely more than a hoarse whisper. "Do they know who did it... who sent the assassins?"

  Morgan drew in a deep breath, then narrowed his dark eyes. "He left no real evidence, and the man Jeana disabled gave up no information. But Katrina knows the plot originated in the Isle of Skye."

  Dan unknotted the sash, then wound the loose ends around each fist until he held the cloth taut between them. "Aldo Lestrade." Staring at the garrote, Dan's blue eyes narrowed with rage. "He's been calling a lot of tunes lately. Once we've dealt with the Genyosah, it'll be time for him to pay the piper."

  The fury in Morgan's voice matched the anger in Dan's. "I agree."

  Dan looked up. "I'll send a message to Clovis. I won't deny him the right to kill the Duke, but I want Clovis to know he'll not travel alone to do the job."

  Morgan frowned. "Remember that I said the holovid had gone to Lyons first? Clovis saw it, then forwarded it to us." Morgan sighed deeply. "I already sent such a message via ComStar to Clovis, but only got a reply from Karla Bremen. Clovis is gone."

  Godspeed, my friend. Dan let the garrote sag, then snapped it taut again with a crack. I place my vengeance in your hands.

  39

  Kathil

  Capellan March, Federated Suns

  7 September 3029

  The spherical Union Class DropShip, boldly emblazoned with the death's-head insignia of the Liao Death Commandos, flew through the night sky with the ease of a condor gliding lazily on updrafts. As it slowed to hover, the guns retracted against the terrible heat of atmospheric entry popped out and searched the ground for any sign of the enemy. When the gunners found no targets, the ship began a slow descent.

  Only five hundred meters above ground, the DropShip shuddered and drifted sideways. Blue sparks arced from laser mounts and PPCs. One LRM pod sprayed its missiles into the air while another belched a great gout of black smoke. Thelanding jets all pulsed out flame in a haphazard pattern, tipping the vessel right and then left. The ship righted itself and began to fight against Kathil's gravity, then the ion jets quit altogether.

  The DropShip hit the ground hard, sending tremors out that Andrew Redburn could feel even in the cockpit of his Marauder. The ship's starboard hull crumpled, then an explosion in an LRM magazine blasted the ship up again. The volcanic detonations continued, spinning and bouncing the DropShip across the dark landing zone. The ship convulsed violently as it landed heavily on the port side, then a blazing red-yellow fireball blew the DropShip apart.

  Pieces of hull split open like a naranji rind. Full-sized Battle-Mechs rocked out of the broken sphere, spinning wildly out of control. Andrew watched a Marauder whose arms flailed madly against the air as its cylindrical body wheeled over and over again. The heavy 'Mech landed on its feet, but the birdlike legs snapped at the knee. The Marauder's body broke in half. The cockpit section tumbled across the landscape while the fusion engine in the torso exploded, spitting armor and parts carelessly over the landscape.

  Hand trembling, Andrew punched up the communications link that ran through a landline to Morgan's headquarters. "Delta Lion to Pride. The microwaves got the first DropShip, but I make two more coming in low and hot." Andrew hesitated, searching for words to describe the carnage in the landing zone. "Pride, no one survived the landing. That shouldn't have happened to anyone."

  Morgan's voice, tinged with regret, filled Andrew's neuro-helmet. "I agree. If I thought they would have given our new people some quarter, I might have had a choice. Alpha reports having a battalion of Fourth Tau Ceti Rangers heading for the Median Power Company plant. Two Unions landing in your area means we'll have two companies of death Commandos targeting Yare."

  Andrew nodded mechanically. "Roger, Pride. We'll stop what we can." Andrew severed the landline with his commander. I hope like hell we don't let much through. Those retired MechWarriors you've gathered as your staff might be all heart, Morgan, but their fighting days were over a long time ago. As good as you are, Morgan Hasek-Davion, you cannot defend that generating station by yourself.

  Andrew punched up a magnified view of the two Union Class DropShips that had settled onto the landing zone. The flames from the burning first ship flickered yellow highlights onto the other two ships' pitted armor. They also provided enough light to reveal the 'Mechs marching from the DropShips' bellies onto the hellground, filling Andrew's guts with ice.

  The Death Commandos moved from their DropShips swiftly. Instead of lining up in formation, as some units might have, they spread out to make themselves harder to hit. None of them stopped to check on the condition of their fallen comrades, but instead they used debris and broken 'Mechs as cover. Their scouts moved forward with great caution, searching out any sign of enemy 'Mechs.

  Andrew swallowed hard. These guys really are as hot as their reputation. I guess we’ll just have to be better than ours. Seeing a lance of scout 'Mechs move beyond the blast perimeter and onto the edge of the landing zone, he punched a button on his command console. His auxiliary monitor redrew the map of the landing zone, adding two rings of polka-dots around the whole area. The scout lance's 'Mechs appeared as golden triangles in the dark area between the two rings.

  The lead scout 'Mech, a Raven, crossed into the outer circle of dots. Its right foot came down on the ground, then shot back up as the mine beneath it erupted. An argent column of flame ripped the Raven's foot clean off, spinning the leggy 'Mech back into the safe zone. It squatted, listing badly to the right, but the pilot did not leave his 'Mech. The other scouts, after a short discussion with their commander, carefully began to retrace their steps
back toward the DropShips.

  Ten meters into the interior ring, the lead Ostscout hit another mine. The explosion blasted up into both of the humanoid 'Mech's legs. Armor sowed shrapnel all over the landing zone as the discharge blew the 'Mech's legs out from under it. The Ostscout landed on its back, then rolled, detonating another mine beneath its chest. The second mine ripped a huge hole in the 'Mech's left flank.

  Andrew smiled as the 'Mech's faceplate exploded outward. The pilot flew from the damaged 'Mech in his command couch. The gyrostabilizers trimmed the seat's flight, and the pilot directed it back toward the DropShips. First blood goes to the Lions. It'll take them forever to get out of this trap, and we can pick their sappers off with LRM fire from Demon and Archer lances.

  Almost before Andrew had a chance to grin in smug satisfaction, the Death Commandos sprang into action, showing just how nasty a force they really were. Both DropShips launched flight after flight of LRMs in a computer-projected pattern that ate its way out through both rings. The missiles and their explosions detonated all the mines for a hundred meters. Fiery blasts shot flares into the darkness and sprayed dirt everywhere. Thunder rattled the Marauder as light flashed from each succeeding barrage.

  Andrew punched a button on his command console. "Heads up, Demon and Archer lances. They'll be coming through fast. Fire and move, fire and move. Fox and Cat, be ready to move. The rest of you, stay alert. Our first position won't hold long." Andrew glanced down at the list of 'Mechs and styles his computer could identify. Hell, we'll be lucky if it just slows them down.

  Through the smoke and dust poured the Death Commandos. The wounded Raven and the other two 'Mechs in its lance came into view first. They moved into the line of buildings in the factory town surrounding Yare Industries as the first volley of LRM from Archer and Demon lances hit them.

  So many missiles blasted into the Raven that it appeared to have burst into flames spontaneously. The Wasp on its right reeled under the pummeling barrage. The humanoid 'Mech, stripped naked of armor by missiles, collapsed into a two-story-tall adobe building. The lance's remaining 'Mech, a Stinger, started to jet off, but a flight of missiles peppered its head, crushing the cockpit completely. The 'Mech crashed to the ground, blocking one of the town's narrow streets with its corpse.

  Suddenly a half-dozen Death Commando 'Mechs ignited their jump jets. The humanoid BattleMechs arced overhead, converging on the locations from which the LRMs had been fired. The scarlet shafts of medium-laser fire wove a deadly energy network above the low hill toward which the Liao 'Mechs flew. The beams sliced armor from the incoming 'Mechs, but stopped none of their advances.

  As the Liao 'Mechs sank from sight, Andrew growled out orders through the radio. "Cat lance, hit them now. Archer, Demon, get out of there if you can and fall back to second position. Bulls-eye and Fox, it's our turn. Craon, hold your company until we need it." Andrew glanced at the tactical display that showed some of his Valkyries jetting away from the assault site, then he turned his attention back to the action in his area.

  The main body of the Death Commandos moved through the town along the main road toward Yare. They proceeded as swiftly as possible, clearly uneasy about the shadowed side-streets and darkened buildings surrounding them. Two Centurions scouted ahead, while two Vindicators secured the streets intersecting their line of march.

  They never imagined anything by way of an organized defense, and no militia in its right mind would fight them in a city—placing its own homes at risk. As the last 'Mech, a Rifleman, shuffled past the tin-walled warehouse where Andrew's Marauder was hidden, Andrew severed the connection with the visual sensor pod mounted on the building's roof. He leaned his heavy 'Mech against the warehouse's corrugated wall, and amid a shriek of metal and loud snap of wooden wall studs, he burst into the street behind the Rifleman.

  Andrew shoved both of the Marauder's arms at the Rifleman, stabbing his thumbs down on the firing buttons. Twin bolts of azure lightning knifed through the enemy 'Mech's back, slashing armor into ribbons. Half-melted armor chunks fell to the ground while blue fire raced through the Rifleman's body. Autocannon armor started a staccato series of explosions that blew both arms off the 'Mech, sending them spinning off through buildings and houses. Freed of the electromagnetic fields holding it captive, the miniature sun powering the fusion reactor melted its way free of the engine housing and rose like ball lightning up through the 'Mech's head. It exploded free of the war machine, lighting the landscape like noon, then imploded, bringing darkness again.

  Missiles and lasers, PPCs and autocannons all fired from within the darkness toward the street and back out again as Bullseye and Fox lances joined Redburn in his ambush. From his left, Andrew saw SRMs fly in from the squat, birdlike Jenners that made up Bullseye lance, and they were followed up by skilled laser fire from the same 'Mechs. From the right flank, two Jenners in Fox lance struck. The two Panthers that completed that Lance's complement of 'Mechs unleashed PPC blasts at the most heavily armored of the Liao invaders, then launched volleys of SRMs to capitalize on the damage their particle beams had done.

  Fire turned the night into day as chaos reigned. Andrew traded PPC blasts with a Vindicator. The Liao attack buckled armor plates on his Marauder's right arm, but failed to damage the PPC mechanism. Almost as though the PPC pod had merely absorbed the energy, it spat the cerulean bolt back at the Vindicator, tearing a hideous scar through the armor over the other 'Mech's heart. The medium laser on the same arm flayed armor from the Liao 'Mech's left flank, while the other arm's medium laser sliced through the armor on the Vindicator's right hip.

  The Vindicator's pilot shifted his 'Mech back toward the left to protect his wounded flank. The PPC mounted as its right forearm vomited out another jagged lightning spear, again blasting armor from the Marauder's right arm. Andrew watched as the computer redrew the 'Mech's right arm with only a minimal amount of armor. Next hit wastes that arm. Best use it now!

  Andrew dropped the gold targeting crosshairs onto the image of his enemy and again fired with one PPC and two medium lasers to avoid a heat buildup. As though the 'Mech realized the threat the Vindicator represented, the Marauder vented its fury on the Vindicator's right arm. The blue PPC beam arced its way up and down the limb, blasting layer after layer of glowing ferro-ceramic armor off into the night. The right-arm laser sliced along the Liao PPCs barrel, splitting the last of the armor, then skewering a heat sink in a spray of green-yellow coolant. The left-arm laser pulsed into the Vindicator's shoulder. Corded myomer muscle snapped, torn fibers flailing wildly, as the beam slashed through it. The laser tracked up into the joint, melting titanium bones. With a thundercrack and flash of bloody light, the Vindicator's right arm cartwheeled off into the darkness.

  The Vindicator's neutralization gave Andrew a moment to survey the battlefield. At least two of Fox lance's Jenners were down and burning, but a Liao Scorpion had lost its two front legs. On the left, Andrew couldn't see Bullseye lance, but the continued fire coming from and heading back to their position told him that at least some of them still lived. Up on the hill, where Cat lance would have jumped the Liao 'Mechs sent to root out the Valkyrie, Andrew saw two burning buildings and the stuttered flash of autocannons, but could not make order out of the chaos up there.

  Despite the damage taken in the ambush, the Death Commandos continued to push their way up the hill toward Yare Industries. They've stripped off their medium 'Mechs to tie us up while most of their heavies head toward the target. I don't want to, but I'll have to commit my reserves. Andrew punched a button on his command console. "Now, Craon, bring Gorgon, Hellion, and Jackal lances in. We have to stop them now!"

  Craon led the three Kathil Militia lances out from hiding to cut across the Liao line of march. Gorgon lance, composed of four UrbanMechs, fired their autocannons in unison on the Ostsol leading the Liao advance. Armor exploded from the 'Mech's torso, blasted away by twin sprays of depleted uranium projectiles. One hail of shells ripped off the Ostsol's right arm, ha
lf twisting the heavy 'Mech around with the ferocity of the attack. The fourth 'Mech's fire blasted armor from the Ostsol's left leg, yet the Ostsol did not go down, despite heavy damage.

  The Ostsol concentrated its return fire on one of the UrbanMechs. Two large laser beams shot from the Ostsol's chest, impaling the smaller 'Mech. Armor evaporated under the laser's hellish caress, then internal structures, half-melted, exploded outward in a gout of black smoke. The smaller 'Mech staggered back, sagging into a building, more of its guts running in molten streams down its torso than actually remained in place.

  Hellion lance, a matched quartet of Javelins, launched flights of SRMs at the Liao Marauder following the Ostsol. Half the missiles corkscrewing in on their target blossomed into fiery clouds of napalm that covered and clung to the Marauder like a burning skin. The other missiles exploded after impact, ripping away chunks of the 'Mech's armored flesh, but they neither hurt nor slowed the birdlike 'Mech.

  Andrew's mouth went dry. They mixed their SRM loads . . . they're carrying inferno rockets! Are they crazy? That's like strapping plastique to yourself. Even as the thought came to him, Andrew found himself grimly pleased with their action. At least they hit the right 'Mech—damned Marauders run hot anyway. . .

  The Marauder pilot had already picked out his targets and fired both PPCs before he knew what he was facing. The blue fire from his right claw hit one Jenner dead-center, stripping the armor from its chest as though it were a paper label. That Jenner staggered, but remained upright. The other PPC bolt flayed the armor from its target's left flank, spinning the second Jenner away and into a small house.