“Retreat or charge?” The ceiling speaker crackled. “You better answer us right, or we’re leaving!”
“Chief?” Roberto demanded. “We need a decision right now.”
Releasing the periscope, Kate drew in a deep breath and let it out very slowly. There was no other choice.
“Tell the bikers to pull back and follow in our wake. Try to reach the walls and take out the gun crews. We’re going in,” she said, yanking the clip from the Ingram SMG slung over a shoulder. “Straight through the gate.”
The tension faded from the room, and the gunners flicked off safeties. Roberto fed power to the tandeni engines, and the war wag started rumbling around the hill.
“About damn time,” he growled softly, then hit a switch. “Eric, prime the L-gun. We’re going to Hell!”
FIRING AGAIN at the unseen biker gang, Thomas levered in a fresh round when something trailing fire streaked across the sky and hit the stone guard tower like a blinding thunderclap. The top was blown completely off the structure, stones flying everywhere to rain upon the ville, crushing sec men and slaves alike.
“First elder protect us,” a guard on the wall cried, dropping his blaster. “He’s here. The Trader is here!”
Thomas spun in the direction the startled cannie was looking just in time to see a huge war wag crest the northern hills, the armored hull bristling with blasters spitting flames. The elder forced himself to raise the longblaster and shoot at the oncoming machine even though he knew it could do no good. The thing was enormous and bristled with machine gun blisters, missile pods and stubby barrels of 40 mm gren launchers.
A double flash erupted from both sides of the juggernaut, fiery contrails extending directly for the chained women at the gate, then unexpectedly arching up and over the wall at the very last moment to sharply dive inside the ville. The world seemed to explode as harsh light blossomed and the concussion almost shoved Thomas off the wall. As he collected himself a few second later, the elder could see a gaping crater in the center of the ville, with most of the barracks gone, along with the meeting hall and the gaudy house. The keep in the center of the ville seemed undamaged, but the entire glass side of the greenhouse was gone, sparkling pieces flying through the moonlight. Even as he watched, two running eunuchs were caught under the downpour and diced to pieces, the glistening shards slicing them to ribbons. Horribly alive, the men shrieked insanely as internal organs spilled onto the ground between their clutching fingers.
Ignoring the dead men, Thomas gasped in horror when he saw the plants inside the shattered greenhouse were chopped into mulch, the entire crop destroyed in a split second.
Shaking in fear and adrenaline, Thomas could barely believe the amount of destruction caused by the rockets. It was incredible! But even with weapons like that, the big guns could ace them in a heartbeat.
“Fire!” the cannie leader shouted at the top of his lungs. “Chill them all!”
But only a few blasters on the wall responded to the command, and the big guns did nothing. Turning to scream at the gun crew, Thomas saw the area strewed with bodies, the few slaves still alive strangling the eunuchs with their own chains, one slave setting a sec man on fire with a stolen torch.
A slave revolt! By the first elder, they would pay for that with ten days in the iron cage, slowly cooked alive while being drowned at the same time.
The stormy sky rumbled ominously as two more rockets cut through the air from the oncoming war wag, and this time hit the main gate with trip hammer force. The cries of the living shields were instantly cut off, the gate ripped from its row of hinges, the locking bar snapping apart. In a screech of dying steel, the portal sagged forward and collapsed to the rocky ground, catching the witch underneath as she frantically tried to get clear. But the old doomie was too slow, and she was crushed flat under the tonnage of burning timbers, only a sprinkle of blood hitting the paving stones of the central court yard.