Starfist: FlashFire (40 page)
“The hell you say, you lyin’ sack o’—” Donnie shouted straining at the ropes that held him in his chair.
“Okay,” the lieutenant sighed, “hook ’im up, Sarge. Give ’im a little juice. He’ll talk.” He turned and left the room. Down the hall he entered the small chamber where Charlette was being held, securely bound and gagged. “It’s all over, sweetie,” he announced as he closed the door behind him. “Your boyfriend has told us everything.” He grinned as Donnie’s screams echoed throughout the tiny building. “That’s muh boys, havin’ a little postinterrogation fun.” He grinned. Donnie’s screams rose to a crescendo and then stopped abruptly. The lieutenant shrugged, “We got what we need from him. He’s told us everythin’. I jus’ need you to fill in some details. Now it’s yer turn to talk, sweet buns. Oh, don’t worry, lovely, I’m not gonna turn the juice on you, not yet, not till we get to know each other a lot better. ’N who knows, I find I like you, maybe we won’t need to juice you up.” Grinning, slowly he began to unfasten his belt.
Charlette lay there helplessly. She’d been warned in training that things like this might happen if she ever became a prisoner of war. There was no way she could resist what was coming now. She closed her eyes and wished she were a man. Finally she had really sunk to the lowest circle of hell. If she ever managed to get out of this how would she ever explain to anyone what had happened to her? The old expression, “Out of the frying pan, into the fire” occurred to her and for some reason she found that highly amusing.
Charlette Caloon, lately Sergeant Charlette Odinloc, Third Division G2, Confederation Army, began to laugh.
The lieutenant paused. “What, are you fuckin’ crazy?” he muttered. He stood there uncertainly. Then his face turned red. She was laughing at him because—quickly he pulled up his trousers in embarrassment. “Are you waterlogged, bitch? What the hell’s so fuckin’ funny?” he said because he had to say something in a situation like this. Charlette couldn’t answer because of the gag in her mouth but she laughed all the harder when she saw the expression on the lieutenant’s face. “Well, fuck yew,” he muttered, “Go ahead, enjoy yerself, ya crazy fuck! I’ll be back!” He slammed the door behind him and stomped off down the corridor.
Charlette lay there and laughed until the tears ran down her cheeks.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Lieutenant General Alistair Cazombi was disgusted, as he always was whenever General Billie called a staff meeting. It wasn’t that Billie simply failed to admit any error on his part regarding the major assault 34th FIST had just fought off with assistance from the 27th Division. No, that morning Cazombi was more disgusted than usual as he and Brigadier Sturgeon sat there listening to Billie as he and his chief of staff, Balca Sorca, smoked fine cigars. Not that cigar smoke annoyed Cazombi, he loved a fine cigar himself, but neither officer had bothered to offer him or Sturgeon a smoke. It was one of the nastiest snubs in a long line of them Billie had inflicted on Cazombi, so to even up the score, he was making this “conference” a tough one by disagreeing forcefully with everything Billie proposed. He’d have disagreed even if he and Billie were old friends: General Jason Billie didn’t know his rear end from his elbow when it came to battlefield tactics. Brigadier Ted Sturgeon lent his support to the army three-star.
“General Sturgeon, I did not invite the other commanders to this conference because they already have their orders for the breakout. But I wanted to talk to you personally since your Marines are going to play a vital role in cracking the enemy’s siege of our positions. I feel that you need, well,” he shrugged, “last-minute clarification of your role in the coming battle.” Sturgeon bristled. What Billie meant was he needed a “pep” talk.
“Sir,” Cazombi broke in, “with the fact that reinforcements are due to arrive here shortly, I recommend you delay any action until then. Brigadier Sturgeon and I have discussed another option at some length and we think—”
“Gentlemen, this war will be won right here,” Billie pointed to the floor, “not by some wild-assed end-run behind the enemy’s lines! I know that’s what you’d prefer to do. We are going to break Lyons’s siege right here, thrust a dagger deep inside his lines, drive a wedge between his besieging forces and defeat him in detail.” He paused to catch his breath. “Alistair, I don’t see why you two are insisting so determinedly on mounting this foolhardy seaborne attack on the coast! Besides, the reinforcements will be fresh, full of fight, and I plan to use them to exploit our breakthrough. As you both know, once they get here we’ll be like sardines in this place and we just don’t have space for all those men and their equipment. We’ve been over this before—”
“Sir, if I may?” Sturgeon interrupted. “As I’ve said before, we Marines are not trained in defensive warfare. We’re best when employed in attack and maneuver. Now we have the troops to land a reinforced FIST on that coast and push inland. We’ll—”
“It won’t work!” Sorca interjected. “Look at the physical conditions along that coastline up there!” He zoomed the trid screen in on the seacoast just south of Phelps. “Look. Cliffs a hundred meters high in some places! At low tide the beaches are only seventy-five to one hundred meters wide! At high tide the water’s up over the rocks! How the hell do you expect any attacking force, even your vaunted Marines, to land and deploy under such conditions?”
“It won’t be easy, nobody’s saying that,” Cazombi insisted. “But because it’s so difficult that part of the coast is very lightly defended. Force Recon reveals only a small enemy force deployed along that fifty-kilometer stretch of coastline, with no heavy weapons to back it up and, as far as we can tell, no substantial forces in position to reinforce it. I’m telling you, General, that place is Lyons’s blind spot, but he isn’t going to be blind to it for long. We have an opportunity here and we’ve got to take advantage of it.”
“You’re dreaming, Alistair,” Billie growled. “You saw what happened yesterday. The rebels attempted an assault on what they thought was a lightly defended flank and got their heads handed to them.” Another reason he did not want to wait for the reinforcements, one he’d never admit, was that a Marine lieutenant general would be among them and if that officer were as hard-nosed as Sturgeon, he’d never be able to execute his breakthrough plan.
“Sir, that flanking assault failed because one,” Sturgeon raised a finger, “we knew they were coming; two,” another finger, “they were attacking a highly experienced Marine FIST, and three,” yet another finger for each point, “reinforcements were in place to assist at the point of attack. We will succeed because they
won’t
know we’re coming, that area is defended by a reserve military police company, and,” he clenched his fist, “they don’t have any units in position to reinforce when we attack.
“As for the cliffs, we can get infantry on top of those cliffs using our own hoppers. The heavy stuff we can offload on the beaches and get up the cliffs by using what you army guys call Shithooks.” Those were heavy-duty hoppers the army used to transport artillery and large vehicles, so called because they carried their loads suspended beneath them by a series of hooks attached to cables. “Look here, sir,” Sturgeon hurried on, “we have the tide tables for the next week. There’s one day when the tide’s maximum recession occurs just at first light, the ideal time to attack.”
“Sir,” Cazombi interjected, “that coast is undefended because the enemy thinks it’s not vulnerable. By the time he reacts to a landing we can have the entire FIST over the cliffs and headed straight for Phelps. Then Lyons will have to divert troops from his lines to oppose them and that’s when you launch your breakout from here. It’s risky, but we think it’ll work. It’s been done before, sir, and you both know it.” Cazombi sat back and folded his arms across his chest. He glanced over at Sorca, who was keeping his face expressionless. Billie pursed his lips as if in deep thought. That gave Sturgeon, who did not know Billie that well, the impetus to continue his pitch under the misapprehension the general was seriously considering their plan.
“It’s a ‘hammer-and-anvil’ tactic, sir. My Marines will be your hammer and your troops will be the anvil. Once we penetrate their rear, nobody, not even Lyons, can hold his army together.”
“Gentlemen,” Billie began slowly, “I appreciate your work on this alternative plan,” he smiled weakly and nodded at Cazombi, “but I have considered the alternatives very carefully, very carefully, I assure you, and I do not need a lecture on what the commanders in past eras have done in similar situations. Our position here is unique, gentlemen.”
General Cazombi could sense that Billie was at the end of his patience so he decided to push him further because that would be the only satisfaction he’d ever get while serving under the popinjay. “Sir, you know from your days at the academy that an attacking force must outnumber the defenders three to one in order to achieve victory, and that only with high casualties. We simply do not have the forces to achieve that ratio. If the attack fails, the enemy will counterattack, break into our defenses, and you will lose this entire army. Have you thought about life as a prisoner of war, sir?” Not that Billie would ever let himself fall into the enemy’s hands, Cazombi thought. He’d take the first shuttle out if the defenses ever started to collapse, leaving men like himself and Sturgeon behind to surrender the army.
Billie stared at Cazombi popeyed with incipient anger as his face began to redden. “This attitude of defeatism is unacceptable, General,” he almost shouted; officers and NCOs in other parts of the command post turned their heads at the outburst but quickly went back to their work, smiling surreptitiously but every ear turned now to the conversation. Soldiers love it when senior officers have a falling out. “You have always opposed my command, General, and it’s time that stopped and you and General Sturgeon—”
“Excuse me, sir, but my rank is ‘Brigadier,’ ” Sturgeon interjected quietly.
“All right, goddamnit!” Billie shouted, banging his palm on the table. An operations NCO, his back turned to the conference table, grinned. Five minutes after these discussions were over every word would be repeated throughout the Peninsula. “Now look, Sturgeon, your Marines are the knife blade,” Billie continued, controlling his anger with effort. “You will punch through the enemy’s lines and my infantry will exploit that breakthrough. None of this waltzing around a hundred kilometers down the coast bullshit, clear?”
“Sir, my Marines, you will recall, did just that when we first made planetfall, and you called us back. If you’d exploited that breakthrough then, we might have attained the objective you’re insisting on now. But it’s too late now, General. The enemy won’t let that happen again. We caught him off guard that time. You send my Marines back in there again, and they’ll be slaughtered and goddamnit, General, I won’t stand for that!” Now it was Sturgeon’s turn to slap the tabletop.
Billie started at the outburst, then leaned across the table and thrust his finger into Sturgeon’s face. “General, you get this through that thick jarhead of yours! You follow my orders or you get your ass on the next shuttle back to the fleet, because you will follow my plan of attack, your Marines will lead it and they will achieve the breakthrough, and if it doesn’t work, you’d better be left out there as a casualty because I don’t want you back in here with your tail between your legs! Clear?”
“Get your finger out of my face, General,” Sturgeon answered quietly.
“Or what? You’ll bite it off?” Billie snorted, his voice dripping with contempt. “Hell, General, you’ve been nipping at my heels since you first arrived here. You have my orders, you know my battle plan, and you will prepare to execute it on my orders. That is all, gentlemen.”
Both Cazombi and Sturgeon rose to go. “I’ll tell you this now, General Billie,” Sturgeon said, “I formally protest this decision.”
“I protest as well,” Cazombi added.
“Shit, General, you’ve started thinking like this Marine!” Billie snorted.
“I consider that a compliment, sir,” Cazombi smiled and bowed from the waist.
After the two had departed Billie sat at the table, his hands shaking. “What is said in here, stays in here,” he shouted at his staff. He drummed his fingers nervously on the tabletop. “Both of them are finished,” he muttered, “finished, Balca, finished! I have never encountered such insubordination from a subordinate! Unconscionable conduct on the part of a flag officer. And goddamnit, Balca, where were you when I needed your support?”
General Sorca shrugged, “Jason, I added my two credits’ worth, but I just didn’t see the need to jump in when you had everything under control. In the final analysis, they will follow your plan and it will work. That’s a given.” But Sorca, who any day now expected to be promoted to Lieutenant General and was thinking of his postwar career, was thinking to himself that maybe he had hitched onto the wrong star after all.
Billie growled and stuck his cigar back into his mouth. He frowned. “Goddamned thing’s out. Give me a light, Balca.”
Table of Contents