Anger boiled inside him and threatened to erupt when Rose looked back at Rachel McCloud's unconscious form. He gritted his teeth and forced the anger into a new form. Fury turned to resolve, Rose vowing silently never to let such a debacle happen again. He would put the protection of his command above all other concerns, even the contract. He shook himself back into the real world feeling as though the vow were etched on his heart and mind.
"Twenty-nine minutes left, Thorns, and then we're on our own. Make the cleanup quick." Rose locked the Chargerin place and climbed down the 'Mech, the cockpit's emergency medkit hanging from his shoulder. First he would see to Rachel, then evacuate the city, then figure out how the Thorns might survive the mess they were in.
Once the unit had some breathing room they'd decide how to avenge themselves on the terrorists who'd stolen the Bristol and destroyed the compound. Rose could hardly wait for that moment to come.
26
Houston, Borghese
14 June 3055
The camera swung closer as the speaker glanced down at his few notes. Salander Morgain had always believed that if you could look the camera in the eye and speak with confidence, everything would work out fine. In truth, he knew things didn't always work out as planned, but so far he'd been lucky. He looked once more at the notes Crenshaw's staff had put together for him and slipped them under the podium.
To his right he could see Crenshaw cover his face in annoyance, but Morgain only smiled and looked up at the camera. His timing was perfect. The active light on the top of the camera winked to red and the lens caught the entire movement. It gave him a look of deep concern that the audience could immediately identify, even if most didn't understand the meaning of it.
"Fellow residents of Borghese, my name is Salander Morgain." He had decided to start with a humble introduction; crowds really liked that. "Tonight I would like to take a moment from your busy lives to address a topic of deep concern to us all: the Clans." Morgain kept his voice very neutral. He did not want his auditors to draw any conclusions, yet.
"Ever since the first day of their arrival in the Inner Sphere, these strangers from beyond have been a constant source of dread and foreboding." Morgain allowed his voice to rise in volume and pitch. "Their weapons, their technology, and their fighting tactics swept entire planets clean of defending forces with an almost contemptuous ease." His voice softened, dropping almost to a whisper. "I know because I was on several of those planets and watched my lancemates die as we fought a losing battle." He shook his head, eyes down. When he looked back up at the camera, he had a new light in his eyes.
"When I returned to Borghese, I was hoping to leave the violence of the military life behind. I hoped to live in peace on the planet of my birthplace. But now I know that is not to be.
"From where we stand at this moment, the Clan JumpShips are only two weeks away. Two weeks." Again he shook his head. "In spite of this, the Federated Commonwealth chooses not to defend our world. Their regimental combat teams are deployed all around us, but for Borghese—" Morgain paused and held out his hands— "there is nothing.
"So what do we do?" Morgain looked directly at the camera. "In the military, they taught us that there are only three things to do when you face an enemy.
"You can run." Morgain flashed a smile for the first time in his speech. "Unfortunately, for Borghese, that is not possible.
"You can fight." The smile disappeared in a heartbeat. "Again, I am afraid that is not possible. If we had even the slightest chance of success, I would lead the battle personally, but I believe the effort would be futile. The Clans are too powerful. Abandoned by the Federats, we cannot hope to stand against them.
"That leaves only the third option: surrender." Morgain gripped the podium and slowed the pace of his speech. "It is not a word to be spoken lightly. In all my military career, I have never surrendered, and until recently, I never dreamed that I would even contemplate it. My mind was changed, however, by a counselor wiser than me who asked a simple question. 'You would fight, but at what cost?' What could I say?
"Could say that I would fight until the planet I loved was destroyed by the ruthless invaders? That I would fight while thousands died in a conflict they had no chance of winning? Could I fight again and witness the horrors I saw at Kobe and Thun visited on my home?" Morgain paused, evidently exhausted by the intensity of his emotions.
"I could not. I cannot fight against the Clans, should they come to Borghese, and I wholeheartedly urge you to share my belief in nonresistance.
"I have—"
Rose hit the stop button on the replay unit and glanced at Zenos Cooke. The two men were sitting in Cooke's upland retreat, though Rose knew the location would not be safe for much longer. While Rose was conferring with the Council chairman, the rest of the Black Thorns were keeping watch around the villa. The two men had been viewing the official recording of the afternoon's Council meeting, which included a broadcast of Salander Morgain's address. Despite Cooke's protests, the Council had voted to let Morgain speak to the people in an effort to calm their fears about the Clans. Cooke had been forced to endure the carefully orchestrated spectacle and now watched it again in the same mood of despair.
"I take it that he goes on for a while longer in a similar vein?" asked Rose. Cooke nodded grimly. It had been two days since the attack on the Black Thorns' compound and neither man had slept much. Rose looked like he was handling the strain. Cooke did not.
"With Morgain in their corner, the Preservationists should be able to swing public opinion to their side. They won't fight the Clans now, no matter what I say or do."
"What about us?" Rose tried to keep the question neutral, but concern and a touch of fear crept into his voice.
"You want to hear it from him?" Cooke indicated the frozen image of Salander Morgain on the screen. Rose shook his head.
"The condensed version goes like this," Cooke said. "You are a menace to the planet and the people. Nobody knows why you destroyed your compound or killed the protesters, but you did. If you cannot be persuaded to turn yourselves in to the proper authorities, Morgain and company are going to come after you, probably backed by the militia."
Rose wanted to laugh, but the situation was too serious. He was afraid the official story would read something like Cooke had outlined.
"A roving patrol chanced upon the compound as you left, but there were no survivors among the protesters you killed. They tracked you to the northwest, but were too lightly armed to engage. They lost your trail when you crossed the Garrison River north of Houston."
That had been Angus' idea. The Thorns had waded into the wide, but shallow, river and walked almost twenty kilometers upstream in the dead of the night.
When they finally left the river they were well away from civilization. They'd been on the move ever since, dodging towns and people for the last two days. Despite the risk of Crenshaw and his cronies thinking to look for them at Cooke's villa, Angus and Ajax had slowly led the group there at Rose's insistence. Rose was glad he did. Without support from Cooke, the Thorns were isolated from the rest of the world.
"What about the Bristol !"Rose knew he wouldn't like the answer, but he needed to know.