She watched a tiny red dot move above the small, perfectly detailed hills and trees of the holo display. The computers classed it as a cutter, but no cutter would be so brazen if it was unescorted. Their own scanners, operating in passive mode so far, had yet to spot anything else, but they’d find the bastards when it mattered.
Jiltanith had taken over Rohantha’s weapon systems as well as the flight controls for the moment, and her brain was poised on a hair—trigger of anticipation. The base in upstate New York was no Cuernavaca, and, though it had been on Hector’s list from the beginning, it had been carefully avoided to this point. It was juicy enough to merit attention—a major staging point for weapons and foreign terrorists aiming at targets in the northeastern states and Canada combined with the presence of southerner coordinators and a small quantity of Imperial technology—but it was also close to home, relatively speaking. More importantly, it was bait; they’d needed a target like this to set the stage for Stalking-Horse.
Rohantha was tense beside her as she concentrated on her specially—programmed computers. At the moment, she was “flying” both cutters and their fighter escorts via directional radio links. It was risky, because it meant placing the pinnace in a position to hit them with the radio beams, but far less risky than relying on fold-space links. And her directional links had the advantage of being indetectable unless somebody from the other side got into their direct path.
There were no words in the pinnace. Despite her own preoccupation, a corner of Jiltanith’s mind was open to the flow of Rohantha’s thoughts through their neural feeds as the lead cutter moved closer to the target, active scanners probing industriously, turning it into a beacon in the heavens.
“Got ’em, Hansu!” Caman said exultantly. “See?”
Shirhansu nodded. A second cutter had just blipped onto the display. Its coordinates were less definite, for it was using no scanners, but the fold-space link between it and the first vessel had burned briefly through its stealth field. So they had sent in the first one on its automatics, had they?
She raised a small mike, smiling. They’d used radio against her in La Paz and she hadn’t been ready for it, but this time she had a radio link, as well. They might be watching for it, but even if they spotted it, they couldn’t be certain it was being used by Imperials.
“First Team,” she said quietly in English. “Go.”
There was no reply, but far above the surface of the Earth, a pair of Imperial fighters swooped downward at mach three while they took targeting data from Caman’s scanners over the primitive radio link.
“Missiles!”
The unneeded word was dragged out of Rohantha, and Jiltanith nodded jerkily. The energy signatures of Imperial missiles were unmistakable as they scorched down out of the heavens, and ’Hantha’s plotting systems were backtracking frantically.
Both cutters went to pre-programmed evasive action as the missiles came in. It was useless, of course. It was intended to be, but it would have been useless whether they’d planned it that way or not. The missles shrieked home, and Jiltanith cringed as thermonuclear flame ripped the night skies apart. The southerners were using heavy missiles!
She paled as she pictured the radiation boiling out from those fireballs. They were barely a kilometer up, and Maker only knew what they were doing to any Terra-born in the vicinity, but she knew what their EMP would do to Rohantha’s directional antennae! Imperial technology was EMP-proof, but they’d counted on lighter weapons, with less ruinous effect on the electromagnetic spectrum, and she only hoped the targeting data had gotten through … and that the maneuvers in the drones’ computers were up to their needs. If they had to open up a fold-link while the southerners were watching…
Both cutters had vanished in the holocaust, and Jiltanith banked away from the blast as Rohantha reclaimed her onboard systems. She’d done all she could by remote control.
“Hard kills on both cutters!” Caman shouted, and Shirhansu crouched over his shoulder, staring triumphantly at the display.
That was one fucking commando team that would never hit a target! But her triumph was not unmixed with worry as her fighters clawed back upward, putting as much distance between themselves and their firing positions as they could without breaking stealth…
“Missile sources! Multiple launches!” Caman snapped, and Shirhansu smothered a curse.
Ganhar had been right again, Breaker take it! But there was still a good chance for her fighter crews. She watched the missiles climbing the holographic display, spreading as they rose. They couldn’t have a definite lock, but they’d obviously gotten something from the tracks of the missiles that had killed the cutters.
“Team Two!” She used a fold-space com, but the heavy EMP from Team One’s warheads would make it hard for even Imperial systems to spot it just now, and the need for secrecy was past, anyway. There was not even any need to tell her second fighter force what to do—they knew, and they were already doing it.
Shit! Erdana’s fighter was clear of the missiles seeking it, but those were self-guided homing weapons, and at least three had locked onto Sima and Yanu! She watched Sima go to full power, abandoning stealth now that he knew he’d been targeted. Decoys blossomed on the display and jamming systems fought to protect the fighter, and two of the missiles lost lock and veered away. One killed a decoy in a three-kiloton burst of fury; the other simply disappeared into the night. But the third drilled through every defense Yanu could throw out against it, and its target vanished from the display.
Shirhansu swallowed a sour gulp of fury, but there was no time for dismay. Caman’s scanners had picked out both of the firing fighters, and Team Two—not two, but four Imperial fighters—charged after them, missiles already lashing out across the heavens.
Jiltanith watched exultantly as one of the southern fighters disappeared in a ball of flame. That was more than they’d hoped for, and she was impressed by how well their unmanned fighters’ computers had done.
Now they were doing the rest of their job, and she angled the pinnace away, hugging the ground, covered by Hanalet and Carhana as they flashed back into the north at mach two and prayed their own stealth systems held…
Shirhansu watched the northerners react to her own incoming fighters. They went to full power, one streaking away to the west towards Lake Erie, the other breaking east and diving for the cover of the mountains. Decoys blazed in the night, dying in salvos of nuclear flame, and the west-bound fighter evaded the first wave of missiles racing after it. Not so the one headed east; three different missiles took it from three different directions.
She concentrated on the surviving fighter, praying that its crew would be frightened—and foolish—enough to flee straight back to Nergal, but those Imperials were made of sterner stuff. They turned back from the western shore of the lake, hurling their own missiles in reply, and she smothered an unwilling admiration for their guts as they took on all four pursuers in a hopeless battle rather than reveal their base’s location.
What followed was swift and savage. The single enemy fighter was boxed, and its crew were obviously more determined than skilled. Its weapons sought out all its attackers, splitting its fire instead of seeking to blast a single foe out of the way to flee, and its violent evasive maneuvers had a fatalistic, almost mechanical air. Her own flight crews’ defensive systems handled the incoming fire, and Changa’s fighter flashed in so close he actually took the target out with his energy guns instead of another missle.