“Good. Wait for my command,” the lieutenant replied, slamming a clip into his rebuilt AK-47. “And shoot any man you even think is lighting a fuse early.”
“Sir?”
“We only get one chance at this,” the sec man stated grimly. “One chance. We stop the Beast here or die trying.”
JOSTLING THROUGH the plowed farmlands surrounding the odd stone fortress, the Ranger was apprehensive that nobody had attacked while it was crossing the open fields. Logic dictated only two possibilities: the defenders of the enemy had fled, or much more likely, they were gathering their forces for an ambush.
There was no sign of a gate or door in the tall granite wall, but that was to be expected. Any openings would be on the other side of the stout barrier, where an invader would have to pass more traps and weapons before reaching the portal. And this wall would be much more trouble than the wooden fence.
The layers of granite blocks forming the six-yard-tall barrier were so dense that its sensors couldn’t properly register the thickness. The Ranger guessed at a thickness of six feet, but it could be a lot more. And while its polycyclic pulse cannon could blast its way through anything given enough time, it would be at a cost of mobility and power unwise to expend at the present moment. Although its attackers were using primitive weapons, the tank had already sustained minor damage, and it would be unwise to risk further disablement that could jeopardize the mission. General order 1471/82: Unless the proper authorization codes were issued, anyone or anything attacking or escaping from the redoubt was to be terminated with extreme prejudice at all cost. There was no other option for the robotic Ranger. It would pursue the invaders forever.
The radio signal from the wheeled tank it was pursuing was still coming from ground level, roughly in the middle of the approaching compound. Since there was no obvious superior choice of direction, the Ranger arbitrarily headed to the left and began circling, searching for the entrance, pausing only for a moment to pulse its laser at the top of then tallest tower to remove any possible sentries or video cameras from observing its progress.
A SCREAMING MAN on fire plummeted past the window of the Citadel, distracting the heirs from their work for only an instant. Glancing into the courtyard, Amanda noted the guards scurrying about, dragging a single massive cannon in front of the Citadel.
Everywhere else, slaves were running amok, dashing back and forth, carrying bundles of worthless possessions or their wretched children, totally out of control. For a split instant, the lady ward thought she saw Ryan in the crowd, but then he was gone. She stepped away and closed the shutters. She bad to have been mistaken.
“And you said the cannons had no effect?” Amanda demanded, returning to the conversation.
Standing by the map-covered table, McGregory spread his arms. “None that we could see, my lady. There might have been internal damage, but there’s no way for us to know.”
“How far away is it?” Richard asked.
“About ten minutes.”
“Dearest brother,” Amanda began sweetly, “I suggest we use the rest of the bazookas and LAWs, including those from the outlanders’ vehicle.”
He questioned her. “Take the missiles from the launch pods also?”
“No. Those can’t be fired by hand. Just the light antitank weapons, and those fiery things.”
“The HAFLAs,” he said explained curtly.
She smiled, knowing how much he enjoyed correcting other people. “Those are the things. The HAFLAs.”
“Granted,” Richard said. “Captain, have sec men get them from the armory. Not slaves, mind you, guards. The ones you most trust. And you are in charge of the matter.”
McGregory smiled in relief. “At once, my lord!
Certainly!” He hurried from the room, the attending slaves parting before him as if he carried disease.
“And perhaps we should prepare the outlander tank for our departure,” Amanda added, moving closer to her sibling.
Bending over the table, Richard partially turned. “Leave our ancestral home?”
“Prepare to leave, darling,” she corrected, lightly resting a warm hand on his bare arm. “Purely as a precaution.”
“Never!” he spit, shaking her off. “I’d rather die than betray our beloved father.”