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spyeye's view, did a double loop and slammed neatly into the steel cover over
the mortar's hatch.
"These things got a range of better than thirty klicks," the voice went on.
"So you relief force not going
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land downstream, fight they way through thick woods we holding and have mined,
by the time they get here we gone. You want to chase us through the woods,
booby traps and ambush for a thousand klicks? All right with me, mon. No
satellites for you, now, either."
"Thank you," Sastri said on the private channel. "We have located the source
of that rocket. Out of our range, I fear. I will notify Captain Mace."
"Another thing," the rebel leader said. "We got, oh, two-fifty prisoners up
there, another eighty-so in your Firebase One we overrun, and here at the
river. You don't agree, we kill them all."
"Typical," Jesus Alana said. Hah, Owensford thought. Andy must have the entire
staff listening to this.
Good.
"Typical terrorists," Alana continued. "When things go wrong they threaten
hostages."
"I will hold you personally responsible for any violation of the Laws of War,"
Peter Owensford said.
Laughter "Responsible? Mon, me head in a noose already if we lose! What you
do, hang me twice? This no gentlemon war, dis de Revolution. All or nothing.
"Too, we figure you got maybe fifteen percent casualties, lots of gas-wounded
what die if they doan get regenn soon. We run away, you kill a few more of us,
but not much left of pretty-mon army, hey?"
"I'm listening."
"You talk sensible, we let you fly them out."
That could be crucial; the time between injury and treatment was the single
most important factor in survival rates. Particularly for the ones with lungs
burned by the desiccants.
"Field Prime moves a company or so out into the open, they hostages. Doan
expect you to trust we. You wounded, they me hostages."
Owensford changed channels. "Get me Kicker Six. Fast." He switched back. "I
don't have authority to make deals with you. I'll have to get a political
leader."
"Mon you damn well better hurry doin' it."
"That's as may be," Owensford said. "But until I get political authorization,
the answer to your request is no."
"How long it take?"
"Depends on my communications," Owensford said.
"I give you fifteen minutes. Then no deal. I call you back."
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"Headquarters calling, Prince," Harv said. He held out the handset.
I don't have time, there are a million things happening all at once and I
can't keep track of them He took the instrument. "Kicker Six here."
"I need to speak to Prince Lysander."
"Sir?"
"Political decision time," Owensford said. "The enemy is offering a truce. The
bait is about four hundred
Brotherhood soldiers, plus letting us fly out the wounded. They'll release
their hostages in exchange for a cease-fire. Otherwise they kill them."
"Will will they do that?"
"They're terrorists. Of course they will."
"What do we lose if we take them up on it?" Lysander asked.
"Pursuit. I've got the SAS teams moving into place, and a new supply of Thoth.
We have an overextended enemy, nearly exhausted, with their elite forces
strung out in exposed places. They claim
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troops, but that's exactly what they can't do. It takes time to train lunatics
out of the illiterates they start with. We're the ones who can turn Citizens
into soldiers in short order."
"Four hundred Brothers."
"Or Candidates. About half in half would be my guess. If they have that many.
They may be lying."
"But you don't know."
"No. Our communications haven't been that good. The figure is possible."
Owensford paused. "I'm more concerned about our wounded. Some were gassed.
They'll survive with prompt treatment, otherwise not."
"What would you do if they were your troops?" Lysander asked.
"I don't have to say. Every mercenary hates decisions like that. Our troops
are our capital."
"What is it, Prince?" Harv demanded. "What's wrong?"
Lysander shook him off. "Colonel, you don't have to decide, but you do have to
advise me. What would you do?"
"I'd win the battle. Every one of their elites we let get away is a new hero,
someone to train more. But there's something else. Our troops are exhausted. I
can harass the enemy as he pulls out, but what we really need is to break past
their rear guards and have a real pursuit. That means more hard fighting,
maybe desperate fighting. More casualties, maybe a lot more casualties, and
the way the troops are placed, most of that will fall on Spartans. Not just
regulars, the Brotherhood militia. I can't kid you, if we refuse the truce
you'll lose men. The hostages, lots of the wounded, and more."
Lysander swallowed hard. He could hear the fighting around him. The Prince
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