(eng) Mack Reynolds - Joe Mauser 01 by Mercenary From Tomorrow (UC)

Author:Mercenary From Tomorrow (UC) [Tomorrow, Mercenary From]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

-Daron Malcolm Haer's field headquarters were in the ruins of a farm house in a town once known as Bearsville. His forces, and those of Marshal Stonewall Cogswell, were on the march but as yet their main bodies had not come in contact. Save for skirmishes between cavalry units, there had been no action. The ruined farm house had been the victim of an earlier fracas. This reservation had seen in its comparatively brief history more combat than Belgium, that cockpit of Europe.

A sheen of oily moisture could be seen on the baron's bulletlike head, and his officers weren't particularly happy about his mood, his attitude. Malcolm Haer characteristically went into a fracas with confidence, an aggressive confidence so strong that it often carried the day. In battles past, it had become a tradition that Haer's morale was worth a thousand men; at the same time, the energy he expended was the despair of his doctors who had been warning him for a decade. But this time something was missing.

A foreigner traced the military chart before them. "So far as we know, Marshal Cogswell has established his command here, to the north. Anybody have any suggestions as to why?"

A major grumbled, "It doesn't make much sense, sir. You know the marshal. It's probably a fake. If we have any superiority at all, it's our artillery."

"So the old fox wouldn't want to join the issue on the plains, down near the river," a colonel added. "It's his game to stay up in the mountains with his cavalry and light infantry. He's got Jack Altshuler's cavalry. Most experienced veterans in the field."

"I know who he's got," Haer growled in irritation. "Stop reminding me. Where in the devil is Bait?"

"Coming up, sir," Bait Haer said. He had entered only moments ago, a sheaf of signals in his hands. "Why didn't they make that date 1910, instead of 1900? With radio, we could speed up communications—"

His father interrupted testily. "Better still, why not make it 1945? Then we could speed up to the point where we could polish ourselves off. What have you got?"

Bait Haer said, his face in a sulk, "Some of my lads based in West Hurley report concentrations of Cogswell's infantry and artillery near Ashokan reservoir."

"Nonsense," somebody snapped. "We'd have him."

The younger Haer slapped his swagger stick against his bare leg and kilt. "Possibly it's a feint," he admitted.

"How much were they able to observe?" his father demanded.

"Not much. They were driven off by a superior squadron. The Hovercraft forces are screening everything they do with heavy cavalry units. I told you we needed more—"

"I don't need your advice at this point," his father snapped. He went back to the map, scowling still. "I don't see what he expects to do, working out of there."

A voice behind them said, "Sir, may I have your permission—"

Half of the assembled officers turned to look at the newcomer.

Bait Haer snapped, "Captain Mauser. Why aren't you with your lads?"

"Turned them over to my second in command, sir," Mauser said.

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