Devil's Due (Destroyermen #12)(168)

“Galleys,” Matt said, shaking his head.

“Hundreds were seen. There may be thousands of ’em,” Spanky pointed out. “If you think about it, galleys make perfect sense. Not too many troops stuffed in fewer, bigger ships, an’ they can move against the wind, tide, an’ current. There’s barges too, big ones, probably ready for towin’ by Grik BBs or little tugs, like we seen before. Either way, there’s no stoppin’ ’em. We can bomb the crap out of ’em now while they’re wadded up or as they come downriver, but once they hit the strait they can scatter an’ cross wherever they want, land wherever they want. We can kill ’em all the way to Grik City an’ never get a tithe of ’em.”

“What will we do?” Keje demanded. “We must go at once!”

“What good will that do?” Matt asked sharply, bitterly. “You could go, but we really need Salissa to tow Savoie. And neither Walker nor Ellie is in any shape for a high-speed run to the strait. Even if we made it, we couldn’t fight our way out of a wet paper sack when we got there.” He shook his head, his hand tightening on Sandra’s. “We’d do more harm than good.” He added, “So. We have to stick to the plan: repairs and evacuation here, but kick it into high gear.”

“And Esshk is free to swaarm our base at Grik City with hundreds of thousands of troops!” Keje growled.

“No, sir,” Spanky said bleakly, “not if Russ Chappelle’s plan works.” Hundreds of expectant eyes were on him now and he shifted uncomfortably.

“What is Commander Chappelle’s plan?” Matt asked in the sudden silence.

“He’s goin’ in,” Spanky said. “Takin’ Santy Cat up the Zambezi to block the river—with her sunk carcass, if he has to.”

“My God,” Sandra murmured.

“That’s the style, Russ!” Silva exclaimed admiringly.

“What an asshole!” Pam snapped at him. Then she saw Matt’s face. “Wait a minute! You can’t let him do that!”

“Lettin’s got nothin’ to do with it,” Spanky countered. “He’s gonna do it. Tassanna’s backin’ his play with Arracca’s planes. She’ll probably back him with Arracca herself if she has to.”

Keje looked devastated. “Of course she will,” he murmured softly, blinking rapidly. His tail lashing like a whip.

“Okay,” Matt grated, his voice like hot iron. “Like I said, we pick up the pace on repairs. Meanwhile, First and Third Corps on Mahe will embark aboard Andamaan and Madras, and steam for Grik City to pick up Second Corps. Everything on Mahe goes, including anything that’ll float and anybody who can hold a weapon. Clear? And every single thing that flies will start hammering the Grik choked up behind Santa Catalina. If Russ’s stunt and air attacks can’t stop the Grik, Generals Alden, Rolak, and Maraan will deploy at Grik City to defend against the biggest bunch of Grik we ever saw. But if the stunt works, the entire Expeditionary Force will follow Santy Cat up the Zambezi and land behind her. They’ll never expect that”—he suddenly grinned—“because it’s crazy. But that’s open country. If Pete gets ashore with his whole force, all his artillery and every machine gun we can get him, and gets dug in”—Matt shook his head—“he’ll kill Grik like cutting wheat.”

There was murmured approval, but Matt held up his hand. “Either way, two more things have to happen. First, Courtney Bradford and Bekiaa-Sab-At need to get General Kim to kick his Army of the Republic in the ass and keep it moving toward Sofesshk from the south. Second”—he looked around—“I know we just had a helluva fight, and the smoke over there will remind us what it cost if anybody starts to forget. But we need to get patched up good enough to fight, not just show up, and do it faster than we’ve ever done anything in our lives. Santy Cat’s going to buy us time. We won’t waste a minute of it, and we will, by God, get there before she runs out.”





EPILOGUE


////// Army of the Republic

South Bank of the Ungee River

Grik Africa

“Oh my,” Courtney Bradford exclaimed, gazing through the telescope General Kim handed him. “I’ve never seen such birds before—and so many! They carpet the river in their multitudes. Quite like geese, the way they bob about, but with long, toothy jaws—for snatching fish, I’m sure!”

“Oh my, indeed,” General Kim growled sarcastically. “But you might also, incidentally, note the multitude of the enemy massed on the far side of the river.”

Courtney blinked. “Well,” he replied primly. “That goes without saying. But I’ve seen large numbers of Grik quite often, you know.”

Bekiaa-Sab-At rolled her eyes and flicked her tail in amusement. Just because Courtney had devoted his life to defeating their enemies didn’t mean he’d forsaken the pleasures of discovery, and she considered that a good thing. She, Courtney, General Kim, Inquisitor Choon, General Taal, Prefect Bele, and Optio Meek were standing behind a low adobe wall on the north end of the city of Soala. Like all Grik cities, the place reeked of filth, rot, and excrement. They’d also found it utterly abandoned when they finally emerged from the Teetgak Forest. The reason was obvious: the Grik clearly meant to contest their crossing of the Ungee and hadn’t wanted their backs to the river. The strategy was disconcertingly sensible.