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Outside Bliven, Alkalurops
25 August 3134
Captain Yo
Yo
That was Major Hanson’s idea. If a bunch ran, encourage them. Send enough fire their way so they don’t forget why they’re pedal to the metal. Prisoners were to be passed through to the Black and Reds. Yo
First Platoon reached the last bluff this side of the river. Yo
Yo
Leaving his command van with First Platoon, Yo
“Bridge is rigged for demolition. We’re yanking wires,” the corporal leading that squad reported.
Well away from the bridge, the hovertanks sped down the bank, bouncing right and left as they nosed over. A Condor landed hard on its bow at the bottom and ended up stalled sideways. Yo
“We got a tank stopped dead on our front and a Legio
“Hold your fire,” Wilson reminded her. He could spot her ’Mech MOD, as well as Jobe’s, under cover behind an iron grain elevator. “I’m coming up. Remember the plan.”
Syn snorted. “You won’t let me forget it.”
Wilson’s son gu
There was no cover the last hundred meters to the elevator. They took some fire, but nothing came close. Yep, there was nothing wrong with Syn’s eyes. A hovertank and a huge ’Mech with one nasty-looking rotary autoca
A Navajo trotted out from the elevator’s office, gri
Wilson pointed for his son to park at the foot of Syn’s MiningMech MOD, and reached for the large wrench he kept under his seat for just such occasions. Shouldn’t be long now.
The stalled motor caught, and the tank got under way slowly. “I think we bent a blade,” the driver reported. Infantry were halfway across the trickle that the locals called a river. Yo
Suddenly, on his left, two gray ’Mech MODs stepped out from behind a tall metal building. They fired missiles, as well as a long stream of slugs. He snapped off a quick burst of fifty-millimeter rounds and sidestepped right, positioning himself at an angle that would complicate their firing solution. He adjusted his pace to avoid a rock as he tried to sight in on the lead ’Mech for an aimed burst.
Then he felt his left footpad sink into the muddy water. He bent his right knee quickly, taking the pressure off his ’Mech’s hips and hardly felt the explosion that sent water geysering up around his left leg. He pulled that leg up as a spray of enemy fire splashed a line of mud and water to his right. His footpad dangled uselessly.
“Damn.”
Yo
To his right, infantry fire reached out for the gray ’Mechs from the perimeter on the north side of the bridge. That squad had cut all visible demolition wires. A Demon medium tank from First Platoon slowly nosed onto the bridge, its turret rotating to take the hostile ’Mechs under fire.
Then all hell broke loose.
An explosion shattered the middle bridge span, sending chunks of deck and girders skyward. Then charges sheared off the two spans on either side of the middle one. Two final explosions dropped the last spans, intact, so they now led down to the dry riverbed at totally unusable thirty-degree angles.
“What did I tell you?” the Navajo crowed, tossing the remote detonator on the seat of the jeep. “They got the ’Mech. I got the bridge. Perfect!”
To Wilson’s right, Syn’s and Jobe’s ’Mechs each took a step forward. They were supposed to be backing out. He was out of his jeep in a second, wrench in hand. Behind him, his son shouted, “Get back! Get back!” into the jeep’s mike. “Remember the plan.”
Wilson caught up with Syn’s back leg and rapped it, then rapped it again. “Back up,” he shouted in case she had her outside mike on. “We retreat now. Remember.”
“You are no fun,” came from the ’Mech’s outside speaker.
Wilson hammered the leg again.
The tank that hadn’t made it onto the bridge sent a large-caliber shell their way, reminding Wilson just how exposed he was.
“Maybe we should back up,” came Jobe’s voice from the jeep’s speakers. “If they clobber this grain elevator, things could get real bad.”
One ’Mech backed up. The second one joined it. Wilson ran to his jeep, and his son gu
For a long moment Yo
Then the Demon tank that hadn’t been blown up with the bridge expressed its opinion by snapping off a laser shot at the gray ’Mechs. They started backing up, firing back at anyone who fired at them. When they passed out of sight behind the multistoried buildings that must represent Bliven’s main street, the riverbank grew silent.