“Our troops will be moving out soon, leaving only garrison forces. The strain on your city should be small. Your cooperation can minimize that strain.”

Ah,Davis told himself, here come the, invective and threats, followed by orders to supply the invaders with provisions and workers, all with no recompense.

“If you will ensure that there will be no guerrilla activity or sabotage against my rear areas, I will declare the city a clear zone—no combat,” Wolf said. “We will also need laborers, but there will be no slave gangs or forced labor. We will pay fair rates for fair work, 2 percent over current market rate for supplies ... in C-bills.” Wolf paused only briefly to let the Baron assimilate the offer. “Do you find these conditions unreasonable?”

“I think ... well ... no.”

The merc Colonel had caught him off-guard again. The terms were generous and more than he could have imagined. The offer to declare the city clear and thus spare it the ravages of the invasion was too good to be true. There had to be catch. “Colonel, why are you offering this?”

“You are suspicious, and I can't blame you.” Wolf gave him a conspiratorial look. “It's simple. We have no quarrel with your population. Our mission is an ordinary objective raid, but our forced landing here has complicated matters. Your cooperation will simplify things and make my job easier. For that, I'm willing to pay. Think of the people, Your Excellency.

“We are mercenaries. The defending BattleMech forces on Quentin are mercs, too—businessmen like us.” Wolf gestured as though to suggest that Davis was also a businessman. “We are aware of the costs of doing business. There's an opportunity here for a clean military action. Certainly, this planet encourages it. City fighting can be very costly, and I want to avoid it if I can. Don't you?”

“Of course.”

“Then we see eye to eye. I can count on your cooperation.”

“Well ... What you say does make sense,” Davis stalled, stroking his chin. He asked about the administrative details, trying to keep Wolf talking while his own mind raced. It was a good deal. Batan would be spared war's ravages this time. It might even come out ahead because competition on-world, especially from Port Gailfry, where the mercs were heading, would be lessened. He could always report to the Duke that the mercenaries had held hostages and forced his cooperation. It wouldn't be too hard to cover up the profit he would make.

“Yes, Colonel, we have a deal.”

When Wolf returned from escorting Davis to his car, Minobu noted that the mercenary seemed pleased with the results of the meeting. “All right, people, let's get back to work,” he said, running a hand back through his hair. “William, clear that junk from the holo.”

The air above the table shimmered as the image changed. Additional details of the terrain developed while colored images representing units flowed across the map. When they came to rest, the simulacrum was far different from what had shown during Baron Davis's visit. In particular, the blue, symbolizing Dragoon units, was more prevalent. New unit markers had appeared, most in and around Batan. None of the units previously shown, except for a few at the Batan spaceport, occupied the positions they had a few minutes before. Wolf had obviously intended the Baron to see the holomap and the false information it contained. Minobu wondered how much of Wolf's expressed intentions was accurate. The man was a clever strategist, operating on many levels at once.

The officers began to describe the operations of their commands, illustrating highlights of current deployment or planned movements by manipulating the holographic representation through their comp pads. Minobu learned the details of the Dragoon plans. No, he reminded himself, he was only learning what they wanted him to know of those plans.

Planned troop landings would be completed by 0600 standard hours tomorrow. Then, the bulk of Alpha and Delta Regiments, along with elements of Gamma, would begin their move south and west of Batan. They were ostensibly moving to join those components of Delta Regiment engaged around Port Gailfry, which was what the carefully controlled communications traffic would indicate. The move was intended to draw the Davion forces out to attack the tempting offered flank of the Dragoon thrust. That flank was actually to be a screen of units that would retreat under pressure, drawing the Federated troops further into Wolf's trap.

When the enemy was strung out enough, the Dragoons would strike, hitting the Davion flank and engaging them in a holding action. Meanwhile, the main force would attack the real target, the city of Fasolht and its BattleMech factories, whose defenses would now be weakened by the absence of units on their way to hit the supposedly vulnerable Dragoons. It was a complicated plan, one that Minobu would never have considered for Kurita House troops, let alone mercenaries. Wolf and his officers, however, did not seem to think the complications and contingencies unusual, and their tone was confident.

When Wolf announced his satisfaction with the results of the preliminary skirmishing and the preparations for further action, the discussion turned to the security of the Batan region. All was reported to be well. No enemy units had been sighted within one hundred kilometers of Batan for twenty hours. Wolf turned to Minobu. “Do our arrangements satisfy you, Colonel ... er ... Chu-saTetsuhara?”

“Assuming your reconnaissance reports are accurate, Colonel Wolf, I can find no fault. However, my colleagues may suggest some minor alteration in dispositions to demonstrate their tactical expertise.”

“I understand,” Wolf said, smiling. “Even so, I expect your Lord Kurita will have a safe landing.”

“Yeah,” Wilhelmina Korsht snorted. “Once he's down, he'll have his own bodyguards to look after him. If he gets into trouble then, he won't be able to blame us.”

“Easy, Willie,” Wolf chided. His next remark was addressed to all of his officers. “I think we're done for today, people. Dress uniform tomorrow in honor of Lord Kurita. He may only be a head of state, but he is our paymaster.

“Dismissed.”

Shocked at the irreverence to Lord Kurita, Minobu watched the Dragoon officers disperse. They had handled the strategic and tactical discussion with impressive expertise and dispatch, yet their lack of respect was both distressing and confusing. Minobu knew that respect was integral to an appreciation of what was proper.

Then there was Wolf himself. He seemed to be a man of many faces, adapting to the circumstances. Minobu could not help but be intrigued.

He moved to where Wolf still stood at table. “Why do you play this game, Colonel? Hiding among your fellow officers?”

Wolf looked up at him, silent for a moment. “Tells me a little something about the people I'm dealing with.”

“So ka.”Minobu nodded in understanding. “I, too, have learned something about the people I am dealing with.”

“Did you now?” Wolf's look was sharp. He hefted his comp pad, then said, “You know, you're the first to get it right in quite a while ... Ki,you said.”

“Yes.”

“I'll keep it in mind.”

7

Batan Spaceport, Quentin IV

Draconis March, Federated Suns

17 June 3023

 

Minobu entered the command center in the company of Colonel Andrei Shostokovitch, the big Dragoon assigned to be Minobu's guide around their camp. The tour had started three days ago at the crash site of a Davion DropShip. The Dragoons were already refurbishing it as their own; their contract allowed them salvage rights to enemy equipment they destroyed. Since then, the two Colonels had been near-constant companions during Minobu's waking hours. “Liaison to the liaison,” was how Shostokovitch put it.