It would be only a short run to the ship. There was some small element of danger involved in the trip up the gravity well, but the scheduled diversionary attack by Kuritan aerospace forces across the Dragoon-dominated- orbits would provide sufficient distraction for Akuma's ship to clear the planet. Once away, he could continue to arrange the Dragoons' downfall. A smile crept over his lips. Despite the recent setback, he would have his revenge. He was in no hurry.

The thought of hurry made him remember that Quinn had not answered his question. When Akuma turned toward him, the words froze in his throat, for the bodyguard had him at the point of a blazer pistol.

Akuma had always considered the blazer to be a sleek and finely designed weapon. At the moment, the double-barreled laser weapon looked remarkably ugly. It might have been less ugly if Akuma was not aware how expert was Quinn in its use.

“You have exceeded your authority,” Quinn said, as though pronouncing sentence. “You have been allowed to do this in the past, but this time you have failed. The ISF does not tolerate failure.

“You have manipulated Samsonov into giving you a free hand. Together, you and he have forced Lord Kurita into a corner. The Director has learned of Lord Kurita's response to Samsonov's constant prodding, and he is not pleased. He only wanted Wolf's Dragoons discredited so that they would be forced to work for the Combine when no other would employ them. He thought that you understood that. You have disturbed his plan so gravely that the Dragoons have turned on the Dragon and our Lord.

“You must pay for that now.”

Cold sweat beaded Akuma's upper lip. He had seen Quinn kill too many times to mistake the way the assassin held his body. This was no test or bluff, and nothing Akuma could say would sway him. The man's dedication to Indrahar was unshakable.

There was also no way to take him out. Had Akuma been the one holding the gun, he could never have killed Quinn without taking some injury himself. The assassin was too good at his craft. What had made Quinn the best choice as an agent now rendered him the worst as an enemy.

“Sayonara,Jerry,” Quinn's voice had taken on a hint of emotion. Could it be regret?Akuma wondered. “The Sons of the Dragon had hopes for you,” the assassin said.

Quinn's finger was tightening on the trigger when the entire building shook. The shot went wide of its mark, but still seared off Akuma's right ear as the dual bolt sizzled across the room to vaporize a two-centimeter hole in the transplex. The bolt went little farther, though. The aligned-crystal steel armor of a BattleMech drank the energy and showed no effect.

The room shook again as the BattleMech shifted its position to improve its grip on the skyscraper. Slabs fell from the ceiling as Akuma was dashed to the floor beside his desk. The desk's bulk saved his life as a chunk of the ceiling shattered against the marble top, spattering him with fist-sized particles.

Quinn was not so lucky. A piece of masonry the size of a computer deck caught him in the back of the neck and sent him sprawling to the floor. Before more falling debris buried most of the assassin from sight, Akuma saw that Quinn's head lay at a sharp angle.

Then the shaking stopped.

Akuma looked up at his savior. The 'Mech clinging precariously to the outside of the building was a dark blue Shadow Hawk.The golden falcon on its chest glittered in the moming sunlight as the dust-smeared battlefist shattered the transplex and thrust into the room.

* * *

Dechan Fraser's Command Lance had paid heavily to get into Cerant Center ahead of the Dragons' main force. West's Griffin was sidelined, with its right leg blown away by a vibrabomb. When last Fraser had seen Ellings and Alcorn, they had also taken heavy damage while engaged with a pair of Kurita Panthers.His own Shadow Hawkhad lost its head-mounted SRM launcher to a PPC hit from a Warhammer.That shot had cracked his cockpit armor and sent shrapnel tearing into his left arm. The pain was unimportant now, for Dechan had made it to Government House in time.

He was looking in on Jerry Akuma, the Snake who had caused all their trouble. For years, Akuma had done nothing but try to hurt the Dragoons. Though Dechan would have preferred Samsonov on his viewscreen, the Warlord was too far away. Eliminating his tool would have to do.

IR showed another man in the room. Though he was mostly buried under rubble, his still-visible hand gripped a pistol. No sane person would bother to draw a pistol against a 'Mech, but Dechan had no idea what had been going on. No matter, he was here for revenge and he would have it.

He slammed the Hawk'sfist through the transplex window wall. Fragments of the tough plastic rained across the debris-strewn carpet as the 'Mech's hand opened to reach for the cowering Draconian. The hand closed, fingers straining briefly against the massive desk sheltering Akuma.

That delay was all the Snake needed. He squirmed free of the juggernaut fingers and staggered through the open doorway of the room.

“Come back and die, you scum,” Dechan bellowed in frustration over the 'Mech's external speakers.

Myomer pseudomuscles strained as the Shadow Hawkripped its way through the building's outer wall. The 'Mech flopped on its belly, legs extended into space through the hole torn for its entry. Dechan rolled the 'Mech to one side to get an optical on the fleeing Kuritan. The heavy construction of Government House blocked his machine's sensors even more successfully than the heavy walls impeded his forward progress.

Akuma threw himself into a waiting elevator car. Before Dechan could reorient his 'Mech to bring any weapons to bear, the doors slid shut. The car cleared the level as the Shadow Hawk'slaser pulse slagged the outer doors and sizzled through the back wall of the shaft.

Dechan cursed. Based on the trouble he'd had bulling into the executive office, he knew he couldn't plow the Hawktoward the elevator shaft before Akuma had finished his ride. He carefully noted which of the shafts the fleeing officer had taken, then began to back his 'Mech out of the hole. At one point, the Hawkwould have toppled from the building except for Dechan's quick grab at the edge. An uncontrolled fall from that height could scramble even a BattleMech.

Once steadied and oriented, he cut in his jump jets and released the 'Mech's grip on the skyscraper. The ground came up quickly, but the superheated steam cushioned the drop. Myomer pseudomuscles flexed to absorb the last of the inertia.

Dechan pivoted the Hawkand piloted it around the corner of the building. Ahead of him stood the dark glass cylinders of the elevator shafts. Dechan marked the one in motion. His lips drew back in a snarl as a quick count assured him that it was Akuma's. He brought his sights to bear. As soon as the crosshairs of his heads-up display kissed the sinking car's center, he cut loose with his Martell laser.

Pulse after pulse flashed into the shaft. Flames and smoke erupted through the holes each pulse burned through the shaft's walls. Sheared free from its cables, the flaming elevator car crashed ten stories into the building's basement.

Dechan cut off the laser, satisfied that nothing Human could survive that inferno.

“That's for Shadd and all the others,” he said. Magnified by the Hawk'sexternal speakers, his words echoed off the surrounding buildings.

Dechan had gotten his revenge, yet he didn't feel satisfied. He just felt empty.

48

Central Square, Cerant, An Ting

Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine

14 January 3028