The Mercenary by Jerry Pournelle

Author:Jerry Pournelle [Pournelle, Jerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-01-09T06:00:00+00:00

XI

“God damn it, we won’t do it!” Lieutenant Martin Latham stared in horror at Captain Fast. “That market’s a death trap. These men didn’t join to attack across open streets against rioters in safe positions-“

“No. You joined to be glorified police,” Captain Fast said calmly. “Now you’ve let things get out of hand. Who better to put them right again?”

“The Fourth Battalion takes orders from Colonel Cordova, not you.” Latham looked around for support. Several squads of the Fourth were within hearing, and he felt reassured.

They stood in a deep indentation of the Palace wall. Just outside and around the corner of the indentation they could hear sporadic firing as the other units of the regiment kept the rebels occupied. Latham felt safe here, but out there-

“No,” he repeated. “It’s suicide.”

“So is refusal to obey orders,” Amos Fast said quietly. “Don’t look around and don’t raise your voice. Now, glance behind me at the Palace walls.”

Latham saw them. A flash from a gun barrel; blurs as leather-clad figures settled in on the walls and in the windows overlooking the niche.

“If you don’t make the attack, you will be disarmed and tried for cowardice in the face of the enemy,” Fast said quietly. “There can be only one outcome of that trial. And only one penalty. You’re better off making the assault. We’ll support you in that.”

“Why are you doing this?” Martin Latham demanded.

“You caused the problem,” Fast said. “Now get ready.

“When you’ve entered the market square the rest of the outfit will move up in support.”

The assault was successful, but it cost the Fourth heavily. After that came another series of fierce attacks. When they were finished the rioters had been driven from the immediate area of the Palace, but Falkenberg’s regiment paid for every meter gained.

Whenever they took a building, the enemy left it blazing. When the regiment trapped one large group of rebels, Falkenberg was forced to abandon the assault to aid in evacuating a hospital that the enemy put to the torch. Within three hours, fires were raging all around the Palace.

There was no one in the council chamber with Budreau and Hamner. The bodies had been removed, and the floor mopped, but it seemed to George Hamner that the room would always smell of death; and he could not keep his eyes from straying from time to time, from staring at the neat line of holes stitched at chest height along the rich wood paneling.

Falkenberg came in. “Your family is safe, Mr. Hamner.” He turned to the President. “Ready to report, sir.”

Budreau looked up with haunted eyes. The sound of gunfire was faint, but still audible.

“They have good leaders,” Falkenberg reported. “When they left the Stadium they went immediately to the police barracks. They took the weapons and distributed them to their allies, after butchering the police.”

“They murdered-“

“Certainly,” Falkenberg said. “They wanted the police building as a fortress. And we are not fighting a mere mob out there, Mr. President. We have repeatedly run against well-armed men with training.

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