Her Majesty's Western Service (45 page)

“
Why would the Russians make this sacrifice to blind us now? Because I have also confirmed that a sizable Russian force has either landed in Houston or will do so very shortly. Multiple divisions of fighting troops. Logistical and support structure. Meanwhile, Texas has fully mobilized.”

“You’re drunk,” said
the Governor flatly. “The Russians are never going to directly invade the United States. That would mean open war with us.”

“No, sir. They’re not. But they can provide logistics and support inside Texas, thus
freeing up Texan troops and resources for the invasion. They can go to the Sonoran border, thus freeing up a number of Texan divisions from security there. Lyndon Johnson has made repeated threats against the United States; the Russians have given the capability to act on them.

“The Russians have already shipped arms to the South; there’s going to be another rising, set to begin at any time. West of the Mississippi, Texans are going to sweep north
up the plains, possibly as far as Canada – their entire army, with what the Russian logistics will have freed up, will make mincemeat of the Department of the West.”

“Hold on,” said Richardson. “
Texas may attack the United States. They’re not going to attack
us
. Russian backing or not, they’re not going to risk open war with the Empire.”

“No, Flight Admiral,” said Fleming. “They are not. A Germanic mercenary unit called the Special Squadrons, which would have been
hired or confirmed by the Russians quite recently, is going to do the dirty work of wiping out Hugoton itself. Or taking it; I imagine Russia’s motive behind this play is to take this Lease for themselves, and with it most of the world’s helium.”

“Special Squadrons,” muttered
Brigadier Henry. “I know of them. Light division-strength. They would – they would pose a threat. Except that Richardson’s squadrons should chop them to shreds.”

“Richardson’s squadrons would have their own problems,” said Fleming. “The
Russians would have hired air support; mercenaries, possibly even the Armadillos – those guys switched contract to someone unspecified about a month ago, and this is big enough for Trotsky to have hired the best. The Squadrons will be covered when they attack us, I can assure you.”

“You’re serious,” said
the Governor. Slowly he tapped tobacco into his pipe, lit it. Nobody objected to the pungent smell. Nobody spoke as Governor Lloyd slowly inhaled, then exhaled a cloud of smoke in Fleming’s direction.

“You have evidence that can back this theory,” he said finally.

“Yes sir,” said Fleming patiently. “This is the conclusion I’ve drawn
from
that evidence.”

“That the Russians have forged an alliance with Texas, that Texas is
gearing up – as we speak, you say – for an invasion of the Plains that will give them everything between Deseret and the Mississippi, as far north as Canada. And Hugoton, through this mercenary unit you’ve mentioned. These units.”

“Their biggest power play in a generation,” Fleming repeated.

“Very well, Deputy Director. I trust you’ve notified Denver and Washington of this.”

“
Forty-five minutes ago, sir. I’ve also prepared messages to Edmonton, St. John’s and Nassau, urgently requesting reinforcements. Give the word and they’ll be on their way.”

“Do it.”

“I have an idea of our strengths in the Caribbean and Canada,” said Richardson. “And their readiness. Flight Admiral Lubbock and Vice-Marshal Henshaw are stretched thin as it is. It’ll be days before they can send meaningful reinforcements, and more days for those to arrive.”

More long moments of silence.

“I’m not sure which is worse,” said the Governor’s aide, Buff. “Losing Hugoton, or the Yanks losing their West. That would cripple them. Reduce them to a third-rate power, if they went on to lose the South. A few Northeastern and Midwestern states, an independent Confederacy that I’m sure the Russians would back…”

Fleming nodded.

“Leon Trotsky has his flaws, I’m sure. He’s never to my knowledge lacked ambition in his plans. And this one…”

“This one seems foolproof,” said
the Governor.

Fleming slowly shook his head.

“Sir, I have a solution to the invasion. Trotsky will still win, but a substantively lesser victory. We can save the Yanks, at least.”

“Explain it.”

“Texas is not under any circumstances prepared to engage Imperial troops directly,” Fleming said. “As it stands, they can accomplish this by simply avoiding Hugoton and letting the deniable mercenaries do their work. We have the time – we
may
have the time – to make the invasion impossible for them.”

“How, Deputy Director?” asked
Brigadier Henry.

“You’re not going to like this, Brigadier.”

“I don’t like any of this, Deputy Director. What are you proposing?”

“Get to the point, Fleming,” ordered the Governor.

“We have – the Yanks have – good and sufficient railways along the Texas border. We take the Hugoton garrison units and disperse them along the border. Visibly. Right now. A platoon here, a troop there, an airship over there. There will be no point along the United States border with Texas that the Texans will be able to breach without engaging Imperial troops. We inform the Texans of this, and make it clear that if they
do
engage, it will mean all-out war with the British Empire.”

“
We’d bury them and they know it, Russian logistics or not,” said the Governor.

“That’s a gamble,” said
Richardson. “And you’re omitting a critical point here, aren’t you, Fleming?”

“No, Flight Admiral, I am not,” said Fleming. “I’m perfectly aware that this response would by necessity strip Hugoton of almost all its defenses. We might otherwise have been able to defend the place. We’re going to have to sacrifice the Lease.”

Fleming had actually expected the room to explode in shouting, at this point. The silence unnerved him for a moment and he stepped it into it himself.

“Trotsky would have foreseen this response of ours,” he said. “Either
way, he wins something big.”

“Give the movement orders,” the Governor said. “I hate this. We’re sacrificing Hugoton; even if we keep the territory, it will take
years
to rebuild the wells and the facilities.”

“Which the
Russians are counting on, yes. Besides, Lord Governor?”

“Yes?”

“I have a few field agents left,” said Fleming. “Including” – a nod to Richardson – “your Vice-Commodore and his pirate. It’s distinctly possible – it’s happened before – that one of them might produce some kind of a miracle.”

The Governor of the Hugoton Lease steepled his fingers.

“Then let’s just
bloody
well hope one of them does, then.”

Perry had slept uneasily and was having an early breakfast with
Ahle and Rafferty, in Ahle’s apartment, when the knock came at the door. It was a two-feathered Lakota sergeant.

“Yes?”
Ahle asked.

“Captain, Vice-Commodore?
Joseph Kennedy, Jr. will see you. Right now.”

The
Red Ruby Robber
touched down at Red Cloud early that morning, receiving a berth and paying the landing fees.

“We’ve got another loose end to tie off,” Marko had explained on the way. “Wipe out a potential problem before it can arise.”

“Someone we get to kill?” Rienzi asked eagerly.

“Someone
I
get to kill. Judd don’t need to know about it. He’s got orders to lift fast and hard the moment I’m back. You three stay aboard the ship.”

“You mind if I ask who?” McIlhan asked.

“You three ain’t leaving the ship,” Marko repeated, “but you may as well know. But Judd and his crew don’t need to, clear? Ever heard of the Kennedys?”

Grinning, Marko raised the sniper rifle.

Chapter Eighteen

ARMADILLOS RETURN TO ACTION

The legendary mercenary unit Cordova’s Armadillos, who saved our skies over Alberquerque during the Second Sonoran War, are reportedly under new contract.

“We found another employer who’ll pay a hell of a lot more for just one job,” said a crewman of the
Vorpal
, who refused to be named. “Maybe after that we’ll go back to Texan employ. Maybe not.”

“Been too long since we’ve heard gunfire
off of a sound stage,” corroborated an officer on the
Dread Wyvern
, who again refused to be named.

While
their departure is to be missed, the elite airship squadron’s action is only to be understood: units of their grade can’t be reasonably expected to endure peacetime conditions indefinitely.

Without a doubt, when their adopted home needs them again, they will answer our call.

For the time being, the identity of their new employer remains unknown… but we are sure the seven Armadillos will carve their name as much into that employer’s legend as they have ours…

Editorial News section,
Houston Chronicle
. February, 1963.

Marko had been to Red Cloud before and knew his way around. More to the point, Okhrana intelligence had apprised him of the Kennedys’ routines. The younger sons were less predictable – John Francis, especially, as head of the family’s intelligence and covert operations, traveled around a lot and might have been anywhere at any time – but reliable intelligence, as relayed in the orders, gave him a good idea of the pirate king’s behavior.

Joseph Kennedy and his crown prince, Joe Jr.,
rarely left the Black Hills these days; it was the administrative center of their operations and it wouldn’t do for the big bosses to be too far from it.

For the most
part, they ran things from the legendary underground fortress called the Black House, but they found it politically convenient to circulate every so-often, usually midday, usually around the Liberation Park area in the center of Red Cloud. There were taverns and an open fencing market there, and the Kennedy father and son seemed to spend an hour or so a day circulating there, shaking hands and slapping backs.

Typical fucking politicians
, thought Marko, heading that way.

I’ll enjoy killing them.

“You’ll enjoy meeting them,” Ahle was saying, as she, Perry and – he’d insistently tagged along and the Lakota hadn’t stopped him yet – Rafferty rode in a well-escorted steam-car toward Liberation Park, at the center of the Red Cloud business district.

As well as the Lakota sergeant who’d
come to their front door, there was a lightly-armored combat vehicle that led the way, and six horsemen riding alongside and behind them. Perry couldn’t be sure whether the excessive security was respect or paranoia;
are we especially honored guests, or not-yet-declared prisoners?

Ahle
didn’t seem worried. Rafferty was thrilled.

“We’re actually going to see the fucking Kennedys!”
he was saying. “In the Black Hills. Ducks and Vidkowski aren’t gonna believe me when I tell `em about this shit!”

Perry couldn’t resist the snipe: “Vidkowski is a good airshipman who obeys orders, Specialist Third.”

Rafferty grinned and shrugged.

“Vidkowski
never has any fun. His idea of it is attending a church service or something.”

“While your idea of fun involves a splitting hangover the next morning, Specialist?”
Ahle asked.

Rafferty shrugged again. “Just par
t of the price. By the way, cap’n, get started early?” He offered a flask.

“Don’t mind if I do,
Specialist,” she said, taking a sip. “Not bad rum. Where’d you get it – thought you ran out last night.”

“One of Nolan’s engineers.
Turns out she couldn’t play poker worth a damn,” Rafferty grinned. “Vice, you up for something to take the edge off?”

“I’d order you to stop drinking if I could,” Perry growled.

“Fair enough, boss, but you know you can trust me not to get too impaired when there might be action imminent. How about you, two-feather?” – a gesture at the Lakota sergeant driving the steam-car.

“
Catch me in ten hours, Imperial,” the sergeant said without turning around.

“Oh yeah? Where?”

“Buckner’s. First three are on you.”

“Holy shit,” Rafferty exalted. “First
five
if you insist. I’ll drink with Lakota pirate studs any day!”

“Hold a sec,”
said the driver coldly. “I’m no pirate. Let’s make that clear.”