Night's Pawn (20 page)

"Roger."

The LAV turned again, and in the left monitor Chase saw two points of light bank after them and continue to close. The T-bird rocked slightly, the interior cabin echoing with the sharp sound of metal on metal.

"We're taking fire!" Blanchard shouted.

"Do it!" Gordani yelled.

More mini-rockets fired and exploded immediately, spreading a bright curtain of metallic debris between the
Rapier's Touch
and the new helicopter that was using its own radar to guide the missiles. The T-bird slammed into a hard right turn, hoping to use the chaff and the terrain to break radar contact long enough to lose the missiles.

Chase saw Freid's head pitch to the side against the movement of the LAV. He was having trouble keeping the gun trained on her.

"
Drek
!" howled Blanchard. Chase had only enough time to see a flash on one of the monitors before the missile struck. The thunderous explosion slammed him sideways as metal shrieked and tore directly above him. One of the panels in front of Freid, and something behind Chase, exploded in a fountain of smoke and sparks. The T-bird, bucking from the impact, scraped hard against something along its left side. Chase was thrown again, his outstretched hands slamming against the structural support alongside him. The cybernetic contact with his weapon winked out as it bounced from his hands and struck the floor, sliding to a stop a few steps away.

As the T-bird dropped, Chase was thrown upward and then down again into his seat as the vehicle bounced along the ground. Freid began a slow, mournful wail, and Chase saw her begin to thrash against her restraints. The cabin seemed to grow brighter as her hand slapped at one of the hanging toys, snapped its cord, and tossed it to the floor.

Letting his cybernetic reflexes take over, Chase smashed the palm of his hand against his restraint's quick-release buckle and threw himself forward toward his heavy pistol. The slower buckle held him for a moment, then let him go. He hit the cabin floor faster than he'd expected as the T-bird rose again, its engines straining to gain altitude.

Flat against the floor, he reached out to grab the weapon. The cybernetic link engaged, haltingly, as he rolled onto his back and braced himself, one foot shoved against the base of Freid's seat, the other against his own. He pulled the weapon up as Freid's toy hit the floor and bounced away into the shadows.

She was almost howling, her hands pawing at her headset and the collar of her jump suit. The cabin
was
brighter. Chase felt sudden heat and commanded the weapon's safety off as its targeting spot focused on the side of her head. Her hands suddenly clenched into fists and she screamed as a haze of red grew around her.

The T-bird banked hard into another turn and at least one missile leaped from its rack. The barrel of his heavy pistol was less than a meter from her head as more rounds struck the T-bird's hull and ricocheted away. Hearing the sounds, Chase suddenly realized that at this range his pistol's armor-piercing slug wouldn't stop when it hit her. It would continue to travel, through her, and then into the electronics. Then, maybe, it would stop. If not, it would ricochet madly in the tiny cabin. He hesitated.

Freid strained forward against her harness, and her head snapped back. The red haze of energy suddenly seemed to flow back into her and her hands spasmed opened. "
Christ
!" she screamed and collapsed limply against the restraints.

Chase jumped up, and grabbing the back of her chair, pulled himself to her. Now standing, he could hear the steady stammer of the LAV's chain gun firing. He holstered the pistol and pushed some of the optical gear away from her face. Freid looked as though she'd just taken a severe beating. Her entire face was one huge bruise, blue-black, swollen, and ugly. She blinked at him with horribly bloodshot eyes. She grabbed at his arms and he saw that her hands were bruised in the same way. All over her body the capillaries in her skin had burst. She started to manage a slight smile for him, but then realization hit. Her gaze snapped to the monitors.

Chase kept one hand firmly gripped on her shoulder as support for them both, bracing the other against the monitor bay's support brace. Freid reached up and slipped the optical goggles back into place.

"Gordo," she said. Chase couldn't hear the response; the cable connecting his headset to the intercom had snapped when he'd lunged for his gun. "I'm back." Her voice was weak, barely audible above the roar of the vector-thrust engines and the occasional stammer of the chain gun. "Give me targets."

Chase looked over the monitors that were still working and saw nothing but rushing ground and the quick image of a white trail of smoke across the sky in one of the views.

"No… no…" she said, and thumbed the joystick control built into her chair's armrest. The image on one of the monitors shifted quickly and centered on a hill. The image stabilized as a helicopter crested it. Chase recognized the design as an Aguilar, Aztlan's premier attack helicopter type. If he remembered the trideo show he'd seen on modern combat aircraft, the copter was agile and packed a high-grade sensor package and a broad assortment of weapons. Its one weakness was its light armor plating, the designer having traded protection for maneuverability. The Aguilar passed over the hill, and as its nose dropped, rockets exploded from launchers on each of its stubby weapon load-out wings. The
Rapier's Touch
moved clumsily, but dashed behind a rock outcropping, dodging the unguided missiles.

Chase heard the roar of another missile launch from the T-bird, and saw the bright flare of its solid-fuel engine light up one of the monitors. It sped toward the Aztlan helicopter. Points of light leaped from the attack chopper as it spit flares to distract the missile. It was the same technique the
Rapier's Touch
had tried earlier, with no success. This time, though, their own dumber missile was fooled by the new sources of heat and turned toward one, exploding harmlessly against the scrub desert floor.

A targeting cross hairs had appeared on the monitor showing the pursuing helicopter, and Freid was frantically pushing console buttons. The cross hairs flashed urgently. "Nothing," she said into her microphone. "Secondaries are out."

Chase saw muzzle flashes and smoke from the chain gun, heard the rounds hitting the T-bird. Something punched through the cabin wall not far from Cara, then buried itself in the emergency storage locker. Still curled up tight in her chair, she didn't even seem to notice.

Chase looked down and scanned the controls in front of Freid. The console displays gave manual readings on most of the T-bird's weapon systems. The chain gun's ammo load was getting perilously low, and Chase had no idea if there was a secondary ammo source. The gun fired again.

Gordani was leading the Aguilar on a winding path a few meters above an old, dried-out river bed. Any loose debris not scattered by the passing of the heavy vector-thrust LAV was whipped by the ground-effect of the helicopter. No other pursuers showed on any of the monitors or the intermittent radar display, so Chase assumed they were either far out of position or else had been turned into burning wrecks.

A small panel on the display caught Chase's attention. "The drone," he said.

Freid heard him and shook her head. "The combat drone's jammed in place. I guess we got hit… It's not going anywhere."

"What about the other one?"

"Gun's too small. It'd barely scratch the paint."

"Would they know that?"

Her head snapped up. "Gordo, did you hear that?" she said into her microphone. She paused, then reached for the cable dangling at his side. "You're off-line." She grabbed the cable end and plugged it into her console next to her own cable. The T-bird banked hard again, and Chase heard a faint scraping along the left side.

Gordani spoke in his ear: "Hear what? Somebody better have a brilliant idea, quick. We're gonna be shootin' blanks in a second."

Chase adjusted his headset. "The drone.
We
know it's not much, but they don't. All they'll know is that the meanest-looking missile they ever saw is heading their way."

"They'll just jam us," Blanchard said over the intercom. "They haven't covered those frequencies yet, but…"

"Let's see how fast they think," came Gordani. "Blanchard, take over the chain gun. Hold the last of the ammo. Freid, I know you're hurtin', but we can use whatever you can give us."

She nodded and Chase squeezed her shoulder. "You've got it," she said.

"And Church, can you remote-pilot the drone?"

"Well enough, I suspect."

"Let's do it. When I yell, pop the drone."

The
Rapier's Touch
turned again, and seemed to drop a few meters. Chase lost sight of the Aguilar on the monitors, but he was more concerned with the controls Freid was quickly pointing out to him. She assumed he knew how to use them, so she just pointed out their location. Fortunately, she was right, mostly.

"Here we go!" said Gordani. Chase felt the T-bird gaining altitude as the blurred sides of the riverbed dropped away on the monitors. The Aguilar was there, maybe a thousand meters out and running parallel.

"Pop it!"

Chase reached for the button, but Blanchard's cybernetic command was far faster. The drone's rack cover slammed open, and Chase heard the drone roar from its mounting. On the monitor showing the drone's point of view Chase saw only sky, so he eased the small joystick forward. Regardless of its actual orientation, he'd be pushing the drone toward the ground. The horizon and then the ground slid into view, and Chase caught the edge of the Azzie chopper as it slipped from sight. The solid-fuel booster on the drone kept it flying at a constant speed, and Chase began to swing it around toward the Aztlan helicopter.

Gordani spoke in Chase's ear, "Church! Come at her from the front! Everybody else get read—"

More rounds slammed into the T-bird's hull, but Chase tried to ignore them as he commanded the sluggish drone. It was built for speed, not maneuverability. He was suddenly concerned about getting the drone anywhere near the fast, agile chopper.

The chopper appeared on his monitor as it pulled up to avoid a piece of the broken terrain. He was behind it, but faster. A thin stream of oily smoke waved in the air some distance ahead of the chopper. It was the
Rapier's Touch
, and she was smoking. Not bad, but it was enough to let the helicopter keep her in sight.

"Gordo," Chase said into his microphone, "you're going to have to keep it straight for a minute."

"Frag your minute. Just do it!" yelled the pilot.

Chase cut the corner on the helicopter's course, and then it quickly slipped from view off the monitor. A second later the drone overtook the T-bird. The smoke was coming from the left-rear thrust port, which showed signs of heavy damage. Most of the LAV did.

Chase rolled the winged drone and pushed it hard toward the ground. The desert floor rushed up, an incomprehensible blur of brown, tan, and sparse green. The image stabilized and Chase brought the drone's nose up to slow it. The Aguilar banked through a turn in the riverbed and came into view. Knowing they would be ineffectual, Chase triggered the drone's small machine gun, hoping they'd at least see the muzzle flash. Bright flares ejected from the helicopter as it suddenly pulled up, headed for the sky. Chase pulled up after it, keeping it directly ahead of him. He felt the T-bird's engines surge as they too gained altitude and turned, hard.

Suddenly, darkness appeared, flowing like a great wave in the air in front of the helicopter. Beside him, Freid gasped at the strain of her magics. The helicopter darted to one side, but couldn't avoid the sudden dark cloud. They passed through part of it, slipping in and quickly out again. Chase pulled the drone around it, catching sight of the chopper again on the far side. He was nearly on top of it, meters away

Chase started as the
Rapier's Touch
was filling the rest of the monitor, leaping into view a few dozen meters to the far side of the helicopter. The chain gun blared at pointblank range. The main canopy shattered and the Aztlan chopper twisted violently in flight. Chase saw a flash of whirring metal and then nothing as his monitor exploded with static. Metal howled and shattered just outside, barely audible over the engines. The LAV lurched suddenly, tossing Chase against the far side of the cabin. His shoulder smashed into a brace.

The T-bird rolled in the opposite direction, and he was flung forward against the back of Freid's chair. Loose cases and supplies knocked free from the storage lockers bounced around him and across the console. He wrapped his arms around the mage and the chair, and felt her grab and hold them in place. A vibration began somewhere to the rear.

The engine was whining, a terrible metal-on-metal noise that only seemed to be growing. The T-bird lost altitude and Chase felt it lurch as it fought against Gordani's mental commands. The wild pitch of the engines dropped suddenly as they were throttled back and the LAV's flight stabilized. Freid's grip on Chase's arms loosened. He looked up as she pushed the goggles clear of her face, which was bruised, battered, and streaked with sweat. She smiled. "Did you hear him?"

Chase shook his head and shifted his feet to better brace himself. "No, I lost the cable." He tensed himself, prepared to hold them both though the coming battle.

She squeezed his hand and he could see the glaze of sleep coming into her eyes.