BattleTech: Kell Hounds Ascendant: Three Kell Hounds Short Novels by Michael A. Stackpole

Author:Michael A. Stackpole
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Catalyst Game Labs
Published: 2020-11-03T05:00:00+00:00

Frost heard the order come through his radio’s earpiece. He double-clicked the reply button, then moved forward with a camo-clad squad of soldiers. Fifty kilometers west of Acre, high in the Occidental mountains, they closed in on the guardhouse at the Blue Ridge Dam and Hydroelectric plant.

Two men, one wearing a uniform and the other clad in what the men had come to consider the Majii uniform of black suit and white shirt, paced back and forth. The guard looked tired, and the Majii expectant. The Majii clutched a rifle tight in his hands. The guard had a pistol and a radio.

Which was why Frost shot the Majii first. He’d advanced along the roadway, moving through the woods until he was fifteen meters away. The Majii was at the far end of his circuit and just turning to come back, presenting the broadest target. Frost came up, both hands on a silenced pistol.

The gun coughed twice. The Majii staggered. His rifle hit the ground, which was the first notice the guard had of any trouble. He dropped a hand to his radio, which was why Frost didn’t kill him instantly.

“Hands wide, down on the ground. Now.”

The man looked over, his face slack with shock, as a dozen soldiers appeared from the woodlands. He complied with orders, sliding his radio toward the gated fence and his pistol in the other direction.

“I can open the gate for you.”

“No need.” Frost snaked a hand between the gate’s bars and picked up the radio. “Crawl somewhere. Find yourself cover.”

The man stared at him blankly.

Frost keyed the radio. “It’s the front gate. There’s guys in the woods. Soldiers. Holy shit—” He smashed the radio on the roadway, then he and his companions pulled back into the woods to watch the fun.

Lights blazed all over the complex and sirens echoed from the tall white wall of concrete that was the dam. Over on the far side, massive doors scrolled up from built-in bunkers. Two armored personnel carriers came racing out, followed by two companies of troopers, hastily pulling on body armor and helmets. The column strung itself across the top of the dam. Four kilometers below, at the base of the mountains, lights also went on in a garrison station, where men scrambled into their armored vehicles and began the long ascent up a winding road to the Dam.

The APCs slowed as they neared the gate. Once they were in position and began deploying their cargoes, Frost hit the radio. “Waterwitch One, you are a go.”

The steel gate wasn’t that much of a problem. Frost’s men had explosives that could have blown it down and, in a pinch, that’s what they’d planned to do if necessary. It wasn’t necessary, however, because Patrick Kell came boiling down the road leading half the Ultralytes. A quick kick by one sent the gate flying.

One APC opened fire with a heavy machine gun. ’Lytes returned fire, slagging it with lasers. The other one tried to turn tail and run, but slammed into the half-melted hulk, then jerked forward and smashed into a retaining wall.

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