Madame Guillotine

the political oversight, and the dog-and-pony circus of the show of force being put on by the House of Reason for the media. If they got into something… backup was not likely to be fast in coming.
There was a long pause before Cave answered. They had come to an intersection, automatically breaking into teams of two and hugging the wall. One covering forward, the other covering the rear. Everyone knew their job, even Beers, the new E-5. Good kid. Survived a bad counterinsurgency on Ilon. Did something that got him fast-tracked for the CMTs.
“We still got a chance to get her back?” asked Cave. His breathing was rock steady. You’d think the fear creep wasn’t there for him. Unless you knew him well. Which Shaker did. His number two was concerned with what they were doing.
Reacting.
Instead of acting.
That was always the worst thing to do.
“We’re close, according to Reaper,” replied Shaker over the L-comm, nodding his bucket at the SLIC above. “We can still get her. Or we turn back now and call for an extraction off one of these rooftops. Then she’s gone and it’s a whole thing.”
“Bad day,” muttered Cave.
“Yeah,” replied Shaker.
Beers and Lightspeed said nothing. Too busy watching their sectors. This wasn’t a vote. This was a check on mission. Making sure they were doing the right thing. Making sure they weren’t going to get anyone killed unless they wanted them killed.
“New ping.”
They all saw it in their HUDs. The Reaper team in the SLIC above had spotted the capture team, now two blocks east of their position. Down the alley to the right. Then turn left. There was a Soshie technical inbound on that loc, which probably wasn’t a coincidence.
“They’re getting her transport. We’ll lose her then,” said Cave.
“How the hell did a bunch of protestors mount an N-50 to a speeder?” asked Beers. “Like, how?”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Shaker. “This is our chance to make sure we don’t lose her. Lightspeed, you stay back and lay down cover fire on the mob behind us. Shoot over their heads and keep them back because we’re probably going to get into a thing taking the featherhead back. Beers, you and Cave on my flank. Full-out sprint—watch for ambushes. We rush the next two blocks and try to catch them before the technical arrives on scene.”
It was a bad plan. Shaker knew it even as he spoke. But it was the only chance to get an engagement before the transport arrived.
The biggest problem was running full-tilt through blind alleys. That was a sure way to blunder straight into an ambush that had been left along the back trail for just such a contingency. Then again, maybe running would give them the element of surprise. They’d trained to move quickly and engage during assault school, and it was a standard drill in the line units. Chances were, they could cut the possible ambush’s reaction time by getting up on them quickly and shooting fast.
So…
“Weapons free,” said Shaker. “Screw Betae. I’ll take the hit.”
Then…
“Go.”
* * *
Reaper Actual watched from the bird’s-eye vantage the hovering SLIC provided. Oh-Two was an excellent pilot, but she knew he was nervous flying in close to the ramshackle apartment buildings in this section of Detron. She watched as the Legion QRF tagged Switchblade split up, with three of the four legionnaires surging out in a rough wedge and running off down the alley. That would take them to another stretch that ultimately led to where the unit had extracted the weapons officer.
“How long on that technical?” she asked Oh-Two.
She had everyone tagged within the scope’s map view. With a rotation of her thumb she could zoom out on the N-18 and see the entire sector, or zoom in and see a good sight picture on a single target. Headshot close. Her specialty.
“Fifteen seconds at best. Sled’s moving fast and not braking for anyone, including some children it almost ran down a few blocks back. These guys are coming for our guys, that’s for sure.”
Who brings their children out for something like this? That’s what Reaper Actual wanted to ask. But that detail wasn’t pertinent to the mission. So she said, “Weapons?”
“Tagging a mounted gun of some sort. Black market, definitely—maybe an N-50? It’s got a cargo module, and that’s where they’re going to put the weps officer if I have to bet my flight pay today.”
“Those legionnaires aren’t going to arrive in time,” Reaper Actual said.
The legionnaires were highly conditioned, but her tracking indicated they wouldn’t arrive until the sled was already in place at the scene. Then there’d be a confrontation and probably a whole bunch of shooting.
Over the throb of the repulsors and the idle of the SLIC’s engines came the high-cycle whine of blaster fire. She checked the one leej Switchblade had left behind. Bright traces of blaster fire were coming from his SAB at unseen targets down the alley. Most likely the mob.
“They firing, Amanda?” asked Oh-Two.
“Looks like it. Can’t tell if they’re getting hits. But it looks like they’ve upped their posture. Request permission for me to support.”
“Roger.”
* * *
The legionnaires ran into a hail of blaster fire coming down at them along the last alleyway leading to the target. The transport had already arrived, and the pick-up was going down.
For one second there was nothing but shadowy afternoon darkness due to the tall buildings clustering along the warren, cut by occasional shafts of dusty daylight, and then in the next second it was like some special-effects movie where the hero flies his starfighter down a trench to blow up the Savage hulk and save the day.
Blaster fire came at them in hot volcanic red bolts, indicative of black-market blasters of the military-grade variety. Shaker’s HUD was tagging no less than eighteen combatants that he could see. And the captured marine officer.
His intention had been to show up and tell them to lay down their weapons, if any more than the guy who murdered the pilot had any—which still hadn’t been