Fourth Vector Ch. 47

"I have a great deal of reports that I can show you, covering a whole range of intelligence that I've received from Java over the previous months," said Lucas. "Far more than we can cover in one afternoon but it should help you with any missing intel that you need to move forward. And I'm sure it'll help you with your strategy against Reynolds."

"That would be greatly appreciated," replied Jack. "I'd be forever in your debt, Stan, and that's what makes this next topic considerably harder to swallow because it concerns the ships you have here as well as your garrison."

Lucas seemed to pick up where he was going with that.

"You intend to detain us, don't you?" asked Lucas. "I'm assuming we're going to be sitting out for the rest of the war?"

Jack gave Lucas a shrewd look. "It has to be that way, my old friend. While I don't doubt your heart and your friendship, I can't guess at the Javans under your command. I'm guessing they're already chafing at this occupation, and I don't have the luxury of having commanded them for years enough to the point where they'd be more loyal to me than to Java. With Reynolds on the way, it adds another dangerous dimension to the topic. I can't leave a potentially hostile force in my rear, even if nominally commanded by a friend."

Lucas seemed to take the news in stride. "I had a feeling, Jack. And you're right, of course. Though I won't order them to fight you, I wouldn't put it past them to depose me and mutiny as soon as you're gone. It's the wise thing to do, and I won't fault you for it. All I ask is for some leniency. These men haven't fought yours and deserve to be treated with some respect."

"And respect they will get," promised Jack. "I'm leaving a small garrison here before we go. Ships and men, enough to keep the island secured. It won't hold against a sustained attack by Reynolds but my hope is that Reynolds comes after me instead of leaving the mainland of Java vulnerable. Your men will be treated with all the respect that soldiers deserve as long as they keep the peace. The same can be said for the crews of those Javan ships in the harbor. They'll have to be removed from the ships while my people guard them so they can't be used against us. After this war is over, I'll make sure they're able to repatriate back to Java without any undue bias. And that goes especially for you, my friend."

Lucas' eyes widened. "Back to Java? Now there's a proposition that I haven't heard in some time."

"If I have anything to say about it, I'm not going to let you die on this rock out in the middle of the ocean," said Jack. "Bancroft may be content to keep you out here, but it's just one of many decisions that he's made that's caused this war. I intend to right his many wrongs, and I'm going to start with this one."

Lucas actually looked touched. "That's reason in itself for me to give you aid, Jack. I struggled for a long time on what to do about you when you sent that first dispatch. I didn't know if I was really ready to go all the way in my support. Though I hate Bancroft as much as anyone in this room, betraying one's homeland is a heavy proposal, one that I don't take lightly. But the epiphany I had made things instantly clearer on where to stand."

"What epiphany is that?"

Lucas smiled. "That my resistance is to Bancroft, not to Java. I love Java like you people love your homes but I don't love what Java has become. For the good of Java, I have to stand against her leadership, as distasteful as that feels. I've made my peace with my decision and I'm not conflicted by it, but that's the reason why I replied to your dispatch, Jack. That's the reason why I'm going to help you defeat Bancroft and Reynolds and all those other bastards that would seek to conquer the world. If that means I can return home when this is all over, then it's a cost worth paying."

With those words, Lucas extended his hand across the table in a very clear and simple display. Lucas had sacrificed everything for a friendship that went back years and went against his own emperor.

And it couldn't have come at a better time for Jack's forces.

Jack took his hand with a firm grip. "It's good to have you on my side again, my old friend. Together, we're going to take down Bancroft."

"Amen to that, Jack. It's been a long time coming."

*****

"Get out of the way! Can't you see he's wounded?! Make way, damn you!"

Trevor was alerted to the sounds of commotion near the front of his camp. He'd been pacing around his tent when he heard the excitable yells and movement, which usually signaled the return of another group of raiders.

It was when he heard that someone was wounded that his instinct was to investigate.

Unfortunately, that would mean leaving Nina alone.

While that would normally be fine, Nina was very sick at the present time. She'd come down with some kind of illness over the past twenty-four hours, something that made her terribly sick. As of right now, she was laying on her side on their cot, with her knees brought up as close to her body as possible. She had one hand draped over her stomach, the source of much aching and pain, while the other rested against her head.

Her symptoms were just dreadful. She complained of cramps all over her body as well as general weakness and fever that couldn't seem to break no matter how much medicine they gave her. Her body was frail and damp, and her skin was as pale as Trevor had ever seen it.

Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one with such an affliction. Many of those nearest to Trevor caught the same bug, falling ill over the course of the last twenty-four hours. It was enough that Trevor had to order them put on bed rest while the rest of the army proceeded without their help.

He wasn't worried about most of them getting over the illness.

Nina was another story. She seemed to be the one hit the hardest by it.

Trevor didn't want to leave her alone, but a quick glance down at her revealed that she'd fallen asleep some time in the last ten minutes. Putting a comforting hand on her back, Trevor rubbed it softly to determine how deep her sleep was and when Nina didn't stir, he knew she was out.

"Poor thing," he muttered under his breath.

At least with Nina sleeping, her body was fighting off the infection. And if she was sleeping, he wouldn't feel so bad about slipping away briefly to find out the results of the last raid.

Besides, he really wanted to know how the men made out in the southern foothills of Java, the portion of the country where the Javan Army's right flank was anchored.

It had been nearly a week since General Dennis Ryan had pulled back his entire force after feeling the pressure of Trevor's constant raids. In doing so, he'd anchored his flanks on two formidable landmarks that he thought would hold Trevor's Tyroleans at bay.

In the north, the Javans were anchored on the swift west-east flowing Narbo river. There were few bridges across the Narbo and even fewer sites to ford the river, ensuring that the Javan left flank was extremely secure.

In the south, the Javans had anchored on the low-lying foothills that covered most of the Javan continent, where the tree cover was thick and the hills were rocky. It was an ideal territory to station the bulk of the Javan right flank and up until now, it had been the site of Trevor's constant attacks.

Anyone might have gotten the picture that Trevor was softening up the flank before he intended to unleash a deadly attack against it but that was the opposite of what he wanted.

He was hoping to draw more and more Javan forces to the right flank, leaving the left flank along the river bare. Once enough forces had been stripped away, Trevor was going to unleash the bulk of his army along the river and hopefully crush the Javan flank before rolling up the rest of the army.

It was an ambitious plan and it was intended to take advantage of the strategic situation against the Javans. With Ryan wanting to stay in a defensive orientation, Trevor had to keep pressure against his outer lines in order to keep the Javans from getting too comfortable. A comfortable enemy was well-entrenched and confident of his position.

Trevor wanted neither for the Javan Army which was why his men were readying the attack along the river to proceed in due time. He wanted them ready for when the order came, and no doubt that window was quickly approaching.

As Trevor made his way through the camp, he headed in the direction of his infirmary. Never that far away because of the small size of his camp, the infirmary was reached in less than a minute. Since most of Trevor's army was dug in opposite the Javans, his camp was mostly filled with his personal guard, the wounded, and his administrative staff.

Upon entering the infirmary, he quickly found the newcomers that had been so recently admitted. Several men were groaning as soon as he entered, and the man closest to Trevor had clearly suffered a shot to the gut. His moans were delirious, and Trevor suspected he didn't have much time left for this world.

Others weren't in such a bad state, but nearly all of them were in need of immediate medical care. Finding one man who didn't look so bad, Trevor stopped beside him to inquire about their raid.

"General Downing, sir, an honor to meet you," gushed the soldier, a brown-eyed man who'd been shot through one of the arms. He tried to lean up once he saw Trevor but Trevor gently forced the man back down.

"Easy, soldier, it's time for you to rest," said Trevor from his side. "How did the raid go today? This seems like a lot more casualties than what we usually see."

The man nodded eagerly. "As you say, General Downing, sir. It seems the Javans were prepared for our raid today. I've been on several others where we seem to have caught them with their pants down, the sons of bitches. This one wasn't like that, sir. They seemed to be waiting for us."

"Waiting for you? How? Did they hear you coming?"

The soldier shrugged. "I don't know, sir. I don't think so as our men move quiet like the night. One second, we're all laying prone on the ground and the next? We were raiding directly into several machine gun nests."

Trevor winced. No wonder there were so many casualties today. Attacking a machine gun nest head-on was a recipe for disaster.

"Were there more Javans than usual?" asked Trevor. "Have they reinforced their position in the hills?"

"I would say so, sir, because it seems like there were too many of them. Much more than the raid I did two nights before. The flank was crawling with soldiers and our boys just couldn't close the distance between our forces. I'd say the casualties on both sides were about even, I'm afraid. We didn't strike as hard as we normally do and now half of us are in here."

Trevor nodded his head sullenly, which only caused the soldier to start speaking again.

"Don't feel bad for me, sir. It's just a grazing wound, I tell you. It could have been a lot worse. They could have taken my entire arm off but at least I'll hold a rifle again, I promise you that. I feel bad for Jonesy over there though, he'll never walk again. He took one of the first hits, two shots to each leg. We had to drag him back here the whole way. Thank god that the Javans didn't pursue us or they would have stopped us before we even got back to friendly lines."

While the soldier was still talking, Trevor noticed that Gavin had appeared near the entrance to the infirmary. His eyes sought out Trevor's right away.

"We can be grateful then that you're still with us, soldier," said Trevor as he gently patted the man's good arm. "Take care of yourself and rest up for now. You've done extremely well for Tyrol today."

The soldier acted like he'd never been praised more highly in his life. "T-thank you, sir! It's been an honor!"

Trevor moved away from the soldier and met Gavin near the entrance.

"It looks like the Javans are starting to beef up their right flank," said Trevor. "Most of these men attacked a position that was largely waiting for them."

"I'm getting more reports of that by the hour," said Gavin. "By all intents, the Javans are shuffling forces from their left flank and their center to reinforce the right flank, where all our attacks are falling. I'm thinking they've taken enough men off the left flank for us to put into motion that plan you were talking about. The one to attack along the Narbo."

Trevor nodded. "Get the word out to all the senior officers. I want to move out while the enemy is still trying to reposition troops. They won't see us coming along the Narbo, and now is the time to make it happen."

Gavin couldn't help but smirk. "Time to pay ol' General Ryan another visit?"

Trevor smiled back at him. "Time to show him that he never should have stopped his army. That he needs to pull back all the way to fucking Belfort."

"Aye, we'll make him see that sooner rather than later, Trevor."

*****

"Don't move," whispered Michael quietly. "Or I shall cut your throat before you so much as fidget in one direction."

The Javan guard directly in front of Michael shuddered in fear as the blade of the dagger pressed tightly against his neck.

"Please, have m-mercy," said the guard. "I have a family. I have a wife. And children too."

"I don't care what you have," said Michael. "As long as you follow Bancroft's orders, you're my enemy."

The man in his arms started to weep. In the process, all the shaking made Michael's blade dig a little deeper into his neck.

No doubt the guard was probably wondering how he'd come to be in this sorry state of affairs. The guard had no idea that Michael was watching him make his rounds, waiting for the right moment to spring into action. Secrecy was key in this operation, and the first man to go was always the outer guard.

Once he was safely dispatched, then the rest of Michael's team could begin the assault.

"You're him, aren't you?" whispered the guard. "The lost Bainbridge? The rebel leader?"

"What is it to you if I am?"

"Everyone is talking about you. Everyone! The people know that the lost heir is striking back against the emperor that stole the throne."

Michael shook his head. "You bring up a valid point, dog. Why support a man that stole the throne? Why continue to be employed by a usurper?"

"I'll desert right n-now if you let me live," promised the guard.

"A large boast for a man about to die," snapped Michael. "Why should I let you live? What is your word to me if you've already proven you're willing to take orders from a usurper?"

"Because I have information you can use! I know what the orders are in regards to your rebel group."

Michael eased back the pressure on the dagger. "In that case, speak. What are the orders?"

The guard tried to turn around to look at him but Michael didn't release his hold. "You and all your rebels are to be killed on sight!"

"Is that your big news? I could have told you that already." Michael pressed the knife in tighter once more.

"Wait, there's more!" yammered the guard. "They are trying to get you personally. Leadership knows who you are now! They want to capture you alive."

"Well, best of luck to them in that regard," muttered Michael. "Do you have anything actually useful to tell me before you die?"

The guard could only shake his head while weeping. "P-please don't kill me. I didn't know. I'll stop what I'm doing right now. Just don't kill me!"

Michael had no time for this foolishness but he stopped short of ripping the blade across the man's head. For some reason, he felt a vague sense of pity for the weeping guard so he did the next best thing.

He brought his rifle down hard on the man's head. Instantly, the guard's legs went out and he crumpled against the ground. He wasn't dead, just knocked out, which was a better state than his comrades would be in the next ten minutes.

In the shadows nearby, Victor emerged, looking back and forth between Michael and the now unconscious guard. "You didn't kill him? I'm surprised."

Michael put his dagger back in its sheath. "I must be going soft."

Victor chuckled. "Something like that. Are you ready to begin this assault?"

"I am. Let's go."

The two men took off, moving along the edges of the dock warehouse on the outskirts of the harbor. Inside were a number of supplies meant to support the garrison fleet here in Belfort. Security was extremely heavy, and had been ever since Bancroft made his proclamation about Michael's rebel group.

"Security will be heavy and justice will be swift to any rebel who dares to defy the authority of the Javan Empire," raged Bancroft, performing a public speech to the cowed public of Belfort. His soldiers ringed the crowd as if he expected the rebels to emerge from the public. It was a disgusting display of the state of affairs in Java, where the common people were all bone thin and weary of continued war.

Something had to change soon. Or someone.

Slowly, Michael and Victor made their way forward after another guard was dispatched silently. It was quite a novel experience to work alongside Victor for this operation, who usually stayed in the sewers for the raids. Excitement was always high for those operations planned by Michael, and most of the rebels wanted to take part because they knew that Michael designed clean jobs.

That excitement had bubbled over to Victor that evening, who made his first sojourn into the raids for the first time in months.

"Well, why wouldn't I?" replied Victor once Michael asked him about it. "I can't very well claim any kind of leadership status in our organization if I can't be bothered to go on a raid every once in a while."

Michael smirked but said nothing more. Truthfully, he enjoyed having Victor with him. The man was a good shot and could be counted on to complete just about any task given to him.

On a night like tonight, he would need the extra competence. With security beefed up, there was no telling what might happen when the show started.

The two of them crept along the outer wall of the warehouse, dodging another guard and incapacitating two more in the process. Michael knew the reason for the extra security. Inside this warehouse was a munitions cache that was incredibly important to Bancroft's forces. If they could set off the bombs, not only would they rob Bancroft of it's usefulness but it would also rock the entire city in the process.

With that kind of explosion, there would be no one left in Belfort who didn't know that Bancroft was losing control.

Once a secure path had been found, Michael gestured for the bomb-makers to move forward. Each of them carried a duffel bag lodged over each shoulder for a total of four. Inside was a piece of unsophisticated ingenuity that would spark with the smallest amount of heat and accelerant. The accelerant in this case would be gasoline. The tricky part was starting the flame at all four simultaneously while getting out of dodge to escape the full blast.

Thankfully, there was a manhole cover on the grounds not far from their current location. It could be used to make a clean getaway as long as none of the security forces blocked off their escape route.

The whole operation had gone almost a little too smoothly up until that point. There was always a factor that wasn't counted on, one that took someone by surprise, but up until now, everything had gone to plan.

In fact, it was only after the bomb-makers went inside to plant their quarry that the first sign of trouble appeared.

Like usual on these raids, that sign came in the form of surprise gunfire.

Michael and Victor snapped their heads in the direction of the gunfire, knowing it was close to their intended escape route. Soon enough what started off as a trickle became much heavier as several automatic rifles went off at the same time.