Страница 132 из 186
Chapter Forty-Three
"I understand that we need to train our people with the new weapons before we start using them, Sister Alpha."
Drazen Divkovic's tone and ma
"And I understand you want to begin making effective use of them as soon as possible, Brother Dagger," she replied. "I know all our brothers and sisters do. My only concern is that our eagerness to take the fight to the oppressors may betray us into striking before we're truly prepared."
"Yet we're already making use of the new equipment, Sister Alpha," Drazen pointed out, and Nordbrandt nodded, even though neither he nor anyone else could see her.
Although Drazen was always careful to address her, even in their face-to-face meetings, as "Sister Alpha," she normally referred to him by his actual name in those meetings, rather than his FAK name. It wasn't that she was any less security-conscious than he, but she never met with more than a single cell leader at a time, and she knew the given names of more of them than she really ought to. There was no point pretending she didn't, as long as not doing so didn't threaten their security, and it was good for their morale, helped nourish their sense of unity. She told herself that, and it was true, but it was also true that the human within the revolutionary leader, the extrovert who'd become a successful politician, hungered for the occasional pretense of normality. The ability to call an old companion by name. To pretend to forget for that fleeting moment that she-and they-must be forever vigilant, forever on guard.
But neither of them would risk that informality now, because she was meeting simultaneously with the leaders of no less than eleven cells.
She would never have dared to do that in person, but the encrypted military coms from the Central Liberation Committee enormously enhanced her communications flexibility. She had to admit that the belief she'd taken away from her first meeting with Firebrand-that what had eventually become the CLC would probably never amount to more than words-had done him a gross disservice. She could scarcely believe the cornucopia of weapons and explosives, man-portable surface-to-air missiles, night vision equipment, and body armor even the abbreviated CLC consignment had delivered to them. And the military coms were almost better than the guns and explosives.
She reminded herself yet again that she mustn't extend some sort of magical faith to the new tech advantages she'd received. Good as the coms might be, the damned Manties could undoubtedly match them. But not until they knew to look for them. And not even the Manties could direction find on the coms when they weren't broadcasting.
One advantage of Kornati's relatively primitive technology level was that an enormous percentage of their telecommunications still passed over old-fashioned optic cable. In some cases, over actual copper . In this particular instance, she and her cell leaders had simply plugged their coms into the existing hardwired communications net, then placed a conference call. The coms' built-in encryption was more secure than anything the local authorities might possess, and the wire co
As long as we're still careful, and don't start taking the ability for granted, she reminded herself sternly.
"Yes, Brother Dagger," she acknowledged. "We are already using some of the new equipment. But we're phasing it in gradually. And we're still not using it-or relying on it-in the field."
"Excuse me, Sister Alpha," another leader said, "but that may be a false distinction. No, we're not in the field. But if we screw up during this discussion, if we give ourselves away and the grays pounce, it's going to cost the Movement a hell of a lot more than losing one action cell in the field."
"Point taken, Brother Scimitar," she admitted ungrudgingly. One mistake she was determined not to make was to create some sort of personality cult in which her senior subordinates were unwilling to challenge what they saw as possible errors of judgment on her part.
"I think what Brother Dagger's suggesting, Sister Alpha," a third cell leader said, "is that we should consider the possibility of using some of the new weapons in smaller, secondary operations that would let us gain experience with them."
"Not exactly, Sister Rapier," Drazen said. "I agree that we should use them at first in small operations, that expose us to only limited damage if we lose the strike team. But what I'm really suggesting is that we should begin stepping up our training schedule."
"In what way, Brother Dagger?" Nordbrandt asked.
"We had a big part of the shipment delivered to... a secure location," Drazen said, and Nordbrandt smiled in approval. Drazen had been in charge of the delivery of the bulk of the equipment to Camp Freedom, but he wasn't about to share that information with anyone who didn't need to know it. Not even people he knew were the leaders of Nordbrandt's most trusted central cadre.
"And?" she invited, when he paused.
"I think we could safely transport a couple of action groups to that location. I've had my own team studying manuals and learning to field strip and maintain the new equipment. Most of it's actually fairly simple-what they call 'soldier-proof,' I think. But, anyway, my team is far enough along to need someplace to actually fire the weapons and do some serious hands-on practice. And I think we need to set up a permanent training cadre, probably at the same secure location, though I guess we might want to set up another one, separated from any of the rest of our operational locations. Let us spend some time-at least a few days-working with the new weapons. Not the missiles, or the plasma rifles, or the crew-served weapons. Let's get our toes wet with the small arms and the grenade launchers-they're not so very different from the civilian weapons we've already been using, except that they've got higher rates of fire and longer ranges. Well, and they inflict a lot more damage if you hit something.
"Anyway. Let us check ourselves out on them, then see about a few small-scale operations, somewhere away from the capital. We're going to have to do that sooner or later, Sister Alpha. Let's go ahead and get started."
No one else said anything, but she could almost physically feel their agreement with Drazen. And as she considered the proposal, she found herself sharing that agreement.
"All right, Brother Dagger. I think your suggestion has merit. I'll approve it. And since your team's that far along, and since you already know where the secure location is, I believe your cell should be the first to cycle through the training program. Is there any other business we all need to discuss?"
No one replied, and she nodded to herself in satisfaction.
"Very well then, Brothers and Sisters. I'll continue this in private with Brother Dagger. The rest of you should disco
There were no verbal responses; just a series of musical tones and the blinking of extinguished telltale lights as the other cell leaders disco
"This is a good idea, I think," she complimented him. "Do you have secure transportation, or do we need to work something out?"
"I've already got it arranged," he said, and she could almost hear him smiling. "I figured you'd probably approve it. And if you didn't, I could always just cancel the arrangements."
"Initiative's a good thing," she said with a chuckle. "How soon can you move your team to Camp Freedom?"
"This evening, if that's all right with you."
"That quickly? I am impressed." She considered for several seconds, then shrugged to herself. "All right, it's authorized. Go ahead and alert your team."
"That's odd," Sensor Tech 1/c Liam Johnson murmured.
Abigail Hearns looked up from her own console in CIC at the rating's quiet comment. She and Aikawa Kagiyama had just been reexamining-playing with, really-the sensor data on Kornati's orbital space activity Captain Terekhov had asked Naomi Kaplan to run down when Hexapuma first arrived in Split. It wasn't exactly exciting, but it was good practice, and there hadn't been a lot else for Aikawa to do during the current watch.
Johnson was studying his own display, and Abigail frowned. The sensor tech was responsible for monitoring the orbital sensor arrays Hexapuma had deployed around Kornati. Even a planet as poor and technically backward as Kornati had an enormous amount of aerial traffic, and trying to monitor it was a stiff challenge, even with Hexapuma 's sophisticated ability to collect and analyze the data. For the Kornatians themselves, it was more of a matter of brute manpower and making do, given their limited and relatively primitive computer capability. Air traffic control worked fairly well, but it really relied upon the fact that most of the pilots involved wanted to obey the traffic controllers, and the Kornatian ground radar stations weren't all that terribly difficult to evade.
But what was impossible for the Kornatians, was simply difficult for Hexapuma 's CIC. Sensors and computer programs designed to handle hundreds, even thousands, of individual targets moving on every conceivable vector in spherical volumes measured in light-hours, were quite capable of searching for patterns that shouldn't be there-and flaws in patterns that should be there-in something as small and confined as a single planet's airspace.
Abigail rose from her own chair and crossed to Johnson's station.
"What have you got, Liam?"
"I don't know, Ma'am. It may not be anything, actually."
"Tell me about it."
"It might be better if I showed you, Ma'am."
"All right, show me," she said, leaning one forearm lightly on the sensor tech's shoulder as she leaned over his display.