Freehold (55 page)

"Assmunch, all you did was wound it."

"Well, why not? I bet I can get the other knee this time."

"Look, let's just get out of here and consider ourselves lucky not to have a firefight."

Another speaker said, "The other knee? You're on."

Another report. Another scream. "I win."

"Bullshit. That's a back leg, not the knee."

"It's got four knees."

"You said 'the other knee.' That means the front one."

"Guys, let's just go," insisted the bright one.

"I didn't say that. But if you insist," the shooter argued and fired again. "Geez, Walking Sky, try to have a little fun, huh? Besides, you're not in charge, Chong is."

"She's down at the vehicles, which is where we should be," was the reply.

"Yeah, so Frank's in charge up here."

Walking Sky persisted. "Frank, you're new. I know what I'm talking about."

"Oh, can it, kid," Frank replied. "This'll only take a minute. Try for the tail, Freddo."

This was truly revolting, Kendra thought. Just kill the poor creature and be done with it. Laughs, animal screams of pain and more shots assaulted the air. She heard a click code confirming her orders and an extra signal at the end informing her it was the second attempt. She'd missed the first one while listening to the cruelty below.

She coded back as she rose and found a good position, then signaled to attack.

The enemy was gathered around the makeshift arena, except for one driver and one gunner who showed good sense and professionalism by staying with the vehicles. They were applauded for their efforts with bullets to the neck by Sandra and Dak. The rest were in a rocky gully, surrounded and with their backs to the Freeholders. No sense of chivalry interfered and they were disposed of without ceremony. A couple of wounded were dispatched with shots to the head, and Kendra approached the ripper while the others looted the bodies. In theory, personal effects should be returned, military equipment reused or sent for disposal. All the latter would be distributed across the plain to farmers and resisters. The personal property would be destroyed, unless it had intrinsic value. If caught storing it, they'd be charged with looting anyway, and there was no way to return it. Besides, the psychological effect was better. The rebels rarely allowed escapees and frequently made all evidence disappear. It was hard on families back home, but that of itself was of use in convincing the invaders to leave. It was logical, and Kendra hated it.

She stayed several meters back from the twitching, crippled beast and stared for a moment. Proud in motion, it looked quite pathetic with its shattered rag doll legs. The pain was obvious in its face and moans. She'd never heard a wounded one, and it sounded like a cross between a cougar and a bear. It jerked and shuddered as it turned to look at her, then seemed to shy away. It met her eyes again, almost seeming to beg. As she raised the rifle, it leaned back as if accepting its fate. She fired once through the brain and ended its misery.

"Thanks, friend," she said softly.

They set incendiaries on the vehicles and left in a hurry, before support arrived.

Calan entered the headquarters and waited for the guards to identify him. They shortly nodded and sent him into Lang's office. Lang didn't waste any time playing the politics of waiting. He knew how valuable Calan was to them and met him immediately. "Welcome, Mr. Calan," he said, smiling. "Thanks for your information on that rebel mole, Hernandez. We're still looking, but with a picture, I'm sure we can narrow down the suspects soon. I understand you have some more information for us?"

Lang was easier to deal with than the soldier types. They regarded him as a
traitor
, just because he could see the outcome and desired to keep his position through the chaos. Lang understood the practicality of it and gratefully accepted all his help.

"I have a name for you. A name that will be very useful in demoralizing the rebels. All you have to do is say the name," he said, cryptically.

"A rebel leader?" Lang asked.

"First, let's discuss my terms," Calan said, approaching it cautiously. A name wasn't data that could be leaked a bit at a time. It had taken research and money to find out this jewel, and it was only serendipity that allowed him to recognize its value. "I want a share equal to the reward when you find them."

"Reward?" Lang asked. "I don't understand."

Smiling, Calan said, "This is a fugitive from Earth who moved here and became a traitor. This person now belongs to the rebel military and is guiding them against you using knowledge of UN tactics. There's already a reward. I want it matched."

Attentive now, Lang said, "Agreed. And I think I understand. We advertise that we want this person, offer a reward and let them argue amongst themselves." He nodded appreciatively. "Tell me, then."

Calan keyed a code, handed over his comm, which now showed Kendra's pic and bio. Lang looked confused, entered her name on his system and scanned the response.

"But she was exonerated. Robinson was convicted of embezzling, misappropriation and foreign favors. But he tried to blame lots of other people. At most, she'll be tried for AWOL, and probably not be punished much under the circumstances."

"She's assisting the rebels, now. And since you never publicly rescinded the reward, it still stands. Someone will turn her in for the money. And they'll fight over it."Lang nodded. "I don't know what we'd do without your expertise, Mr. Calan."

Calan smiled. It was good to be recognized for his ability at last.

"Killing the enemy's courage is as vital as killing his troops."

—Carl von Clausewitz

The spring continued with sporadic attacks and ambushes while the UN consolidated its hold. They were actually paying little attention to the farmers, because they eventually would have to knuckle under. After the initial scan to round up reservists and veterans, they'd stayed increasingly away. Kendra had no illusions that it was simply to avoid bad morale and that they would be back in force once the cities were pacified. The cities were more secure every day, and not because the locals were afraid to shoot at the UN, but because they feared repercussions against civilians.

It appeared that the local commanders were not conducting the patrols and raids they were supposed to, because of the effect of the resulting casualty counts on morale. Their reports still indicated such was the case, according to the intel that trickled through. That was good, but was only a temporary reprieve. Kendra continued her war because her orders were to do so, she had nothing else to do and because it might stay the inevitable long enough for there to be political interference. She wasn't betting on it, and it was a struggle to maintain a positive image for her followers.

Occasionally, a message would appear with useful information on targets, current events and even comments on outsystem politics. The latter usually contradicted the UN position and were good for morale. Also, whoever was producing the casts had a sense of humor. The jokes, biting and brutal, were the best thing for morale short of a high bodycount.

She accepted one such message, requesting support to the southeast, at the town of Fall Creek. They were asking for both personnel and cargo vertols, preferably from larger farms. Those were not easy to move clandestinely, but it could be done. She treated the request as suspiciously as she did all of them and dug into her comm to confirm.

The message was from an Engineer Lieutenant Sheila Chon, who checked out. As long as the intelligence network hadn't been compromised yet, it was a legitimate order. So far they'd been lucky in that regard. The satellite network had been taken out, but hard ground-based intel still came in, if slower. It took several routes, including through Minstrel, but was still useful and valid and updated about monthly. Kendra decided to accept the orders.

They were going to be awfully close to Delph', however. Fall Creek was barely fifty kilometers away from the town, and she knew there was a sizeable amount of firepower present near Delph'. They'd have to do whatever they were going to do fast to avoid taking losses. That was easily within aircraft range, even within light artillery range. She decided to follow up cautiously before committing her troops.

That evening, she caught the UN news and her blood froze. EBC had a full segment on her. None of it was untrue. The press had centuries of practice telling the truth the way they wanted it told. They stated that she'd been accused of embezzling, true. Accused of killing two people to escape, true. Accused of fleeing justice, true. Accused of helping the rebels, true. All absolutely true. All utterly misleading and wrong. She closed her eyes, fuming quietly. She wanted to be left
alone
! Why couldn't everyone just go away?

Shit, this was bad. Now the reward was up again, here. And they knew she was near the capital. How long before some oppressed farmer decided it was worth it to turn her in for the money? Perhaps right now?

Dak watched silently nearby. He was convinced it was utterly untrue in
any
detail. Kendra was perhaps the bravest woman he'd ever met. If the damned aardvarks were
all
of her caliber, there would never have been a war. He saw the offered reward and snickered. As far as he was concerned, she was worth ten times that as a friend, never mind as a soldier. The rest of the locals would agree with him, he knew. They had never heard of her or seen her if anyone were to ask.

The next day, an unfamiliar vehicle rolled up in front of the farm. Kendra ducked into her snake pit to hide and Dak went out to parley.

Wayland was there with three of his team. "Hi, Dak," he said. "Just came by to see Kendra."

"She's not here anymore," Dak replied cautiously. "Just came by" seemed most unlikely.

"Oh, come on! I know she's here. We've been watching."

"Why?"

The question hung there. Why was obvious.

Kendra stepped out of the house, brushing at cobwebs. "It's okay, Dak. Let's see what he wants." She nodded cautiously.

Wayland returned it. "There's some people I need to take you to," he said.

"Who?"

"I can't discuss it here," he said. He glanced behind her.

"Sure you can," she said. It was obvious where this was going. Waves of heat swept across her from worry.

"Well . . ." he said. "Under the circumstances, it's obvious that you aren't a friend of the UN." He stopped.

"Was that ever a concern?" Dak asked.

"Look," he said, exasperated again. "Under the circumstances," he realized he was repeating himself. "I think we all agree we'd be safer without her."

There was more uncomfortable silence. "I think you're right," Dak said. Kendra stood wide-eyed.

"Good," Wayland said, letting out a breath. "I know a quiet place she can hide and we can get on with the war."

"You're assuming I'm worried about being safe, though," Dak said.

Wayland's troops were suddenly aiming rifles. "No," he said. "We aren't going to shoot our own people. But I really think Kendra should come with us." The rifles lowered.

"Where?" Dak probed again.

"Dak, be rational. The UN wants her. If we let them have her, it draws attention away from us. We could get better intel and do more to them."

"You think they'll trust a turncoat?" he snorted, mustache waving.

"No," Wayland agreed. "But that's the beauty of it. She's not really one of us." He obviously missed Dak's point.

Kyle, Vikki, Sandra, Brian, Eric and two neighbors were suddenly on the porch, armed.

"Okay, forget it," Wayland said, looking around. "But don't say I didn't warn you. And don't try to contact us again. She's a danger, and we don't want to be anywhere nearby when she gets hit."

Dak stared at him. They hadn't contacted Wayland in the first place. "I don't think that will be a problem. Now get the fuck out of here."

Wayland turned. Kendra had a sudden insight. Gritting her teeth, she reached into her coat, drew her Merrill and shot Wayland in the back.

Rifles swung at her. Rifles swung back the other way. Standoff.

She stood unmoving, staring at the crumpled corpse. Dak looked back and forth and addressed the other three, "If he'd sell anyone out, he couldn't be trusted. I don't think there's a do with you guys—" he stared at Kendra, who shook her head, eyes squinted, "—so go back and fight your war. But don't even think of talking to the enemy. Because we'll make sure everyone knows. And you'll be the ones who suffer. From both sides."

They nodded, boarded the truck silently and drove off.

Kendra slumped against Dak and sobbed. Sandra patted her shoulder then guided her inside. "It's okay, hon. It had to be done," she said.

Kendra couldn't sleep. God
damn
them! Wouldn't they be happy until she was dead? She crawled out of her cot, pulled on a cloak for warmth and sat fuming. She didn't notice the first beep from her comm. The second one registered and was a welcome distraction. Then she paused. Was it possible for it to be good news?

She activated it and punched to decode the message. More war orders. Fine. She momentarily decided killing would be good, then forced her civilized self through the haze. The message descrambled and she began reading. It took a few seconds further to unscramble in her brain.

"You need help. Arrangements made. Transfer to my headquarters. Details follow. Naumann. Authentication Cowboy, Mckay, Urquidez."

Naumann! He'd do that for her? But that was dangerous! She could stay hidden . . . then she broke into sobs. She'd follow that man to ground zero if he asked. Idly, she realized that he knew it. And that that criterion was part of his professional calculations . . . and never entered his personal thoughts at all.

Dak hugged her goodbye. "Vikki says she's sorry she couldn't make it. You take care and we'll see you after this is finished. You have our coordinates?"

"Yes," she agreed. "I'm hoping we can be done in a few more months," she lied, not wanting to tell him it was all pointless. There would always be more attackers. Nothing else to say, she waved, turned and sprinted for the vehicle. The driver was someone she recognized from 3rd Mob and she was gladdened that at least some survived. As far as she'd known, everyone still on base had been killed by the kinetic weapon.