Shadd and his commandos were gone now. Dechan thought about the gruff man who had insisted on calling him “kid.” He had not known the man very well, but no one outside the Seventh ever really got to know the Sevens. Within the tightly knit Dragoon clan, they were a separate family. Shadd had seemed to be a good man in a fight, even if a little too quick to start one. He would not have made it easy for the Snakes.

In the name of protecting ComStar, the Kuritans had done the raiding team, and the Dragoons could do nothing about it at the moment. If they tried to seek compensation, it would mean having to claim the commandos as Dragoons, drawing down the wrath of ComStar and much of the Inner Sphere against the unit for violating ComStar neutrality. Yet that was exactly what the Dracs had done by going after the commandos.

Dechan wanted to avenge the unit's loss by smashing the Snakes the way they had wiped out the Dragoon commandos. Shadd would approve, he thought. Shadd wouldn't stay cooped up at the command center. Shadd hadn't let the mob stop him from getting to Boupeig barracks.

“Colonel Wolf!”

Dechan looked up at Cameron's shout. The man's unflappability was a byword in the 'Mech regiments. If he was excited, it meant that something was up.

“Colonel, the terrorists are broadcasting on the wide band again!”

“Put it on the main screen, William,” Wolf ordered.

The wide band meant that the terrorists were cutting into the public-broadcast frequencies so that the whole planet would hear. The face that appeared on the monitor was drawn and haggard, with dark smudges under the glittering, fanatical eyes. The terrorist's head bobbed once in acknowledgement of something, then his attention centered on the camera. His face became animated as he spoke, his eyes boring into the viewer.

“In a foul blasphemy, the outlaw Dragoons have attacked the ComStar compound in An Ting. They have slaughtered hundreds of innocents and destroyed the compound. This is an unconscionable act. It is beyond the bounds of civilized behavior.

“By this outrageous deed, Wolf's Dragoons have proven that we did not lie about them. They show it now to the entire Inner Sphere. Wantonly. Without regret or denial.

“We are vindicated!

“They are the enemy!

“Such enemies of mankind must be exterminated. Ground into the dust. We must make an example of them so that no others will dare the same abominable acts. They will not be allowed to leave the sacred space of the Draconis Combine unpunished.

“We are but insignificant patriots, armed only with our dedication to the Dragon and House Kurita. There is little we can do to hurt the murderers who call themselves Wolf's Dragoons. We cannot stand against their BattleMechs. We cannot fight their spaceships. But we will do what we can. Look to the sky. See the star of dawning truth. Heed the call to justice! Glory to Warlord Samsonov!” screamed the terrorist, shaking his fist at the camera. Then the screen suddenly went dead.

“What happened to the signal?” Wolf asked anxiously. “William, get it back.”

Cameron made no move toward the control board. His jaw quivered and a tear rolled down his cheek. His voice faltered.

“There's a strong electromagnetic pulse from the Hephaestus'sorbit. The station's gone, Colonel.”

45

Government House, Cerant, An Ting

Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine

3 January 3028

 

Akuma laughed.

As always, Sho-saAndrew Subato Chou found the sound unnerving. It made him wonder if Akuma was quite sane.

Chou flicked a glance across the richly appointed office at Quinn. The bodyguard stood by the transplex window that dominated the room. In his black uniform and backlit by the Dragoon arclights from across the square, the figure seemed more a shadow than a man. Chou would find no consolation there.

Quinn was usually paired with the shorter Panati, but Chou had not seen the squat Japanese all day. Not that his presence would have made any difference. Likely, the second of Akuma's guards would have been as cold and detached as the first. Chou detested being the only military officer with Akuma. Gazig at the swirls and arabesques in the design of the room's carpet, he fidgeted, wishing he were somewhere else.

Seeing his second-in-command fight to hide his agitation only fueled Akuma's humor.

“Look at them, Chou,” he commanded, indicating the one active viewscreen among the bank on one wall. “They are confounded, demoralized.”

Chou obediently turned his eyes to the screen, which showed a slightly fuzzy view of the planning room of the Dragoon administrative headquarters. In the center, Jaime Wolf stood stock still, hands clenched at his sides. Dragoons milled around him, as a young Captain in the background slipped from the room. The audio was dominated by shouting, a babble of many voices.

“The destruction of their orbital station has left them in disarray. Listen to them bawl. They scurry like ants from a mound that's been kicked,” Akuma gloated.

“Chu-saAkuma,” Chou said, having finally heard a single word clearly through the noise. “It sounds to me as though most of the Dragoon officers are calling for revenge.”

Chou knew he was contradicting his superior, but it had to be said. He was pleased that his voice remained steady.

“Does it?” Akuma ran his right index finger along his upper lip, then rolled his hand over and straightened his fingers in sequence. The gesture was nonchalant. “It does not matter. They have no target. Their anger and frustration will only ripen them for the blows to come.”

While Akuma spoke, the volume of noise coming from the speakers diminished. The abrupt change drew the attention of both Kurita officers to the monitor.

What they saw was Wolf calling for order. As calm fell over the Dragoon planning room, those present began a controlled discussion. Most of them wanted immediate revenge, and many wanted to start by razing the city. Wolf adamantly opposed military action by the Dragoons until the civilians were safe. To accomplish that, he had ordered DropShips down to begin loading.

One officer violently objected to Wolf's plan and berated the Colonel as a senile old man. A heated argument followed. Vanquished but still full of emotion, the officer vented his frustration by hurling a portable comm unit at the wall.

For an instant, the device seemed headed straight for the spying camera's lens, for the image wobbled as the missile struck. When the image stabilized, it was clearer than before and showed the amazed expression of the Dragoons staring directly at the camera. Someone at the back of the crowd fired a pistol, and the viewscreen went dark.

Chou ducked when the shot was fired. He straightened, grinning foolishly, to find Akuma tapping his fingers on the marble-topped desk, an annoyed pout on his face. Chou was startled when Quinn spoke.

“We cannot place another monitor at this point.”

“It does not matter.” Akuma dismissed the issue with a wave of his hand. “We no longer need one. The Dragoons are demoralized, distracted by their concern over worthless civilians. Their commanders are divided. Half of them are ready to overthrow Wolf.” He laughed strangely. “This will be almost too easy.

“If we dispose of the mercenaries here on An Ting, we cut off the head of Wolf's Dragoons. They may have gotten their message off, but what good will it do them? Their words will never reach the ears for which they were intended. Other hands will see to that. The rest of Wolf's Dragoons will remain ignorant of An Ting until it's too late. The remaining mercenaries will be easy prey to be hunted down at our leisure. Perhaps Ryuken- nican be assigned to lead the chase.” Akuma's face lit with pleasure at the thought.