Deathlands - Amazon Gate Part 13

She waited for an answer. It was true that the compound was littered along the road with the remains of old vehicles. Some old armored wags, some automobiles, and the remains of motorbikes lay on the sidewalks of the compound streets. They were rotten hulks, rusted and stripped of anything that might have been of use. Many of them showed fire damage that suggested a long-ago firefight. They stood mostly on the sides of the wide streets, and hadn't impeded the progress of the Gate caravan as it entered the compound proper.

"Okay, so there's a s.h.i.+t-load of old wags around the place. And?" Gloria prompted, shrugging and smiling at the young warrior to encourage her into expounding her theory.

"And this-you see how they're all on the sides of the streets, right?" Tammy answered, indicating the wrecks that were nearest to the caravan. When her queen a.s.sented, Tammy continued, "Okay, well, I was sure that they were all like that when I was scouting out. But when I was coming back from the far quarter-" she swept her arm back in the direction she had come "-it seemed to me that some of the wrecks had been moved so that they were across intersections, making it kind of hard for us to make our way down some of the streets."

"That's interesting," Ryan murmured to Gloria. "They must have figured that we wouldn't leave the wags behind and go on foot down some places."

"So mebbe we should do that, to head them off?" the Gate queen queried.

Ryan grinned. "If we keep a skeleton to cover the wags, it could throw them into confusion, although-"

"I know," Gloria interrupted him. "Do we really want to split our forces when we're not sure how strong they are?" When Ryan nodded, she continued. "Yeah, mebbe we should just go their way and see where it takes us. Mebbe they'll figure we won't have tumbled to their little plan."

"Mebbe," the one-eyed Warrior agreed. "If not, then so much the better for us."

"I'll gather the outriders, and we'll play their little game," Gloria decided. "That way, whatever they intend we don't get any of our people left isolated and without backup." With which she gave a series of piercing whistles that rent the air.

The signal elicited a swift response. A series of calls and whistles returned through the eerie quiet of the seemingly isolated settlement, drifting in as answer to their queen.

"We wait here for them to return and then we proceed. Triple red, triple frosty- and let's just see what these f.u.c.kers have got ready for us." Gloria grinned, her eyes sparkling with relish at the thought of combat.

Ryan couldn't help but return her good humor. "Somehow I don't think they've got the first idea what they've let themselves in for." He laughed, casting his eye back over the gathered tribe behind him, including his own people.

"FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, what is the matter with these people? Can't they make up their f.u.c.king minds what they want to do?"

The voice was m.u.f.fled through the visor of the helmet worn by the gray-clad figure as he watched two of the outriders meet at the intersection he had just helped block. The two Amazons had skipped over the pile of rotting junk that now stood across the roadway. It wasn't enough to prevent the pa.s.sage of an individual, but enough to prevent the wags carrying the camp and armory to pa.s.s.

"None of the modules prepared us for this bunch." Another voice crackled through the speaker in the gray man's helmet. He turned to face his colleague clad in scarlet who stood beside him at the third-floor window, looking down at an oblique angle at the sidewalk and road below. They were certain that they couldn't be seen this way. Indeed, they knew that one of the Amazon outriders who had just pa.s.sed beneath them had, on her way out, scouted the building at ground level, and they had been ready to chill her if she discovered them.

The gray man shrugged. "What d'you expect," he said in a resigned tone. "The modules are all predark. We've only got a limited idea of what it's like out there now. Jesus, that's an unpleasant thought."

His voice, m.u.f.fled as it was in the open through the thickness of his visor, carried across clearly via the built-in microphone that was connected to the small speaker through which he had heard his companion. The speakers crackled, but otherwise were as clear as hearing voices in the open. The two men looked at each other when they talked, even though all each could see was the opaque black visor on the other's helmet.

"So you reckon they'll have tumbled what we're up to here?" asked the man in scarlet. "I mean, they'd have to be pretty f.u.c.kin' dumb if they didn't."

The gray man shrugged. "Jeez, how the f.u.c.k should I know, Frank? Maybe they did notice the wrecks on the way out. Maybe they think they've come back by a different route. I can't read their minds, can I?"

"Lou, I was just asking," Frank said calmly. "Don't lose it. Not now. Let's get the last two intersections done and then get the h.e.l.l back down. There's only two of us, and we don't have the hardware to go up against any of them."

"Yeah, we'll let Al's boys worry about it," Lou replied calmly. "After all, they've got a score to settle."

Frank nodded his agreement, and without another word the two men made their way down the stairwell of the ruined building to emerge on the sidewalk. A thin patina of dust stirred in the light breeze, just enough to cover any tracks made either by themselves or by the outriders who had pa.s.sed. It also covered the tracks made by the ruined wags as they had moved around on the road and across to block the center.

"Pretty good maneuver, even if I do say so myself. I'll lay you odds that none of the other roadblocks are that good. I've got the touch, and with a touch like that we can't lose, right?" Lou said proudly.

Frank laughed shortly, a grating sound through the rad static in the helmet speaker. "Yeah, you keep thinking that and keep your confidence up, boy. Meanwhile, us men got work to do."

"Funny, like real funny," Lou rejoined. "Let's cut the c.r.a.p and get to the next intersection point."

Frank nodded in reply, and the two men set off at a dogtrot to their next a.s.signed point.

Illuminated Ones Frank Christie and Lou Verlaine were trained in the operation of microelectronics, and emerged aboveground at regular intervals to maintain and test the microelectronic equipment that had been installed two generations back to provide a camouflaged defense. The principle was simple enough: all the rotting hulks of old wags and motorbikes were genuine, and had been there since the surface of the encampment had been scoured by the nukecaust of skydark. However, since they had been able to surface and use the desolation of the upper level to disguise the activity that continued down in the redoubt, the Illuminated Ones had sought a way that they could utilize everything that remained aboveground as a sec measure.

The ruined wags and bikes were all at the sides of the roads, and afforded a clear entry into the heart of the encampment So it was that it had struck the sec council of the Illuminated Ones that it would be a good concealed defense to articulate the wrecks, so that they could be moved to block the sidewalks and roadways, and so hem in any intruders. To that end, the many microelectronics that were carried in one of the redoubt's labs were utilized and fitted to every rotting hulk, complete with a hydraulic platform that could lift the hulk and move it on regularly oiled and maintained casters, with only the very minimum of noise. Thus it was reasoned that any incoming opposition force could be directed in whatever direction the sec council wished without even realising that this was the case.

It was a reasonable notion, and in the hands of techs like Frank and Lou it was carried out swiftly and efficiently. The microelectronic circuits and hydraulic lifts were regularly maintained, the casters kept oiled and greased. And when the time came for the defense to be used, operatives that included Frank and Lou in their numbers were able to come above ground from concealed elevator shafts that were housed in a number of the settlement's buildings from predark days.

Frank and Lou were about to position the last set of rotting hulks that were in their section of the settlement-each team being a.s.signed a particular area and set of streets.

Lou flattened himself against the side of one building while Frank scouted around the corner, where lay two old armored wags and a personal wag, s.p.a.ced about fifty yards apart, one wag on the left-hand side of the road, the other two hulks on the right.

It was clear. "Go," Frank whispered into the helmet microphone, and Lou emerged from cover. Without another word, each intent on his task, one man took each side of the road. Kneeling beside the armored wag on the right-hand side of the road, Frank lay flat and reached beneath the wag, his fingers feeling gently for the small panel of microelectric circuitry that would activate the hydraulics. His gloved fingers brushed over the panel, his index ringer tensing as he sensed it beneath him, the pressure activating the circuitry. Scrambling to his feet, he ran with a light step to the vehicle, which was twenty yards from the wag he had just activated. Dropping to the sidewalk once more, he repeated the procedure.

Meanwhile, Lou had sprinted to the solitary wreck on his side of the road, which lay farthest away. He, too, activated the circuitry in a similar manner. Rising to his feet, he saw that Frank was about to rise.

"Okay, let's do it," he said quickly and quietly.

"Uh-huh," his partner returned.

On the right arm of each suit, the men wore a small microelectric control panel. Running the fingers of their left hands over their respective panels, they activated the control mechanisms for the wags. With a minimum of hydraulic noise and friction, the three hulks began to rise and move.

Selecting a frequency by deft touch, Frank guided the wag into the center of the roadway, settling it down. Lou took one of the armored wags and guided it into position at a right angle, so that it spilled onto the sidewalk, leaving barely enough room for a single column of people to proceed. While he did this, Frank completed a similar maneuver.

The street was now blocked, with no sign of movement remaining as the tracks of the casters, narrow gauged as they were, disappeared in the swirling dust and breeze.

"Right, let's get to where we're safe, and let Al's boys deal with the rest of it," Lou said.

Frank nodded, and the two men turned and headed for a building on the far corner of the street. Once inside, they took the service door to the bas.e.m.e.nt, where the elevator to the redoubt was hidden in the false front of a boiler that had supposedly, in the distant predark days, supplied the building with central heating.

Once they were in the elevator and headed for the heart of the redoubt to report to the sec council, Frank and Lou removed their helmets. Frank was a thickset man, with reddish-blond hair that was thinning at the crown, and a red-veined complexion. Lou was thinner, with deep-set brown eyes and thick, curly black hair that tumbled onto his shoulders.

Both men looked visibly relieved to be out of the front line. As far as they were concerned, they had achieved their aim without the opposition being aware of their actions.

They hadn't bargained on Tammy's powers of observation.

WITH THE LAST of the outriders now returned to the main body of the caravan, Gloria made her intentions known to her people. When Ryan pointed out that they had no idea if the cameras were also joined by hidden microphones, so that an address to the entire caravan could be a problem, the Gate queen agreed and relayed her instructions to Ryan, Jak and Margia, who had joined the front of the caravan to see what was happening. The four then dispersed among the rest of the caravan, quietly relaying the instructions on how to proceed.

Which was, in essence, quite simple. Although they knew they were being manipulated and directed, the Gate would play along, using their advantage to gain the element of surprise when the time came for battle.

When the caravan was ready to move, Ryan gathered together his people.

"Anything we should watch for?" he asked of the collected warriors.

"Margia," J.B. replied promptly. "She's too keen on the laser blasters, and I don't think she realizes how erratic they can be. If she wants to use them when the time comes to fight..." His voice died away, the point being obvious.

"Attack from unexpected places," Doc added.

"Meaning?" Ryan quizzed.

"Well, my dear boy, I would surmise that if the Illuminated Ones have somehow been arranging these roadblocks, then it would suggest that they have a myriad of entries and exits to their redoubt. Now, as this-" he swept his arm expansively "-is modeled on the very mother of all U.S. military mother lodes, then it would not, I should say, be unreasonable to expect that there would be a veritable warren of hidden pa.s.sages and elevators leading to the heart of the beast."

"Very picturesquely put, Doc," Mildred murmured, "but a good point. I'd add to that the fact that the Gate don't have the knowledge we do about these people. I know we've told Gloria about them, but I don't know if she's really taken it all in."

"Gloria not problem," Jak put in, "but rest of Gate? Mebbe not believe what she say because it come from us and not from what see."

"Yeah, that's what I mean," Mildred agreed. "The best thing is practical experience, and no amount of telling is going to change that."

"So we watch their backs, as well as ours," Krysty said. She huddled into her coat, despite the warmth of the day. "You know, I do get the feeling from them that they think it's going to be easy. They're such good warriors that they have trouble believing anything other than total victory."

"Only way fight," Jak said. "Doubt and you chilled."

Krysty smiled wryly. "Mebbe I mean something else, then-caution and not underestimating your enemy."

"What is there to underestimate?" Dean spoke for the first time. As he stood in front of Ryan, his face grimly set, he could have been the mirror image of his father were it not for the scars and wounds his father bore.

"How do you mean?" his father asked.

Dean shrugged. "You don't estimate, you just deal with it and keep triple red. There's always a curve ball, so you just try to hit it..." And he grinned wolfishly.

"That's right." Ryan showed a half smile. "Let's do it."

THE GATE CARAVAN moved off, all those who were a part of it aware that they were on the verge of battle.

Because they were looking for it, Gloria and Ryan were aware of the way in which the roads had been blocked. Every road that led off to the right was now impa.s.sable for the wags, forcing the caravan to take left turns at intersections or proceed ahead until the forward path was also blocked.

"The little sweeties, they're not very subtle, are they?" Gloria murmured to Ryan as they turned left once more, pa.s.sing a right-hand turn that had a ruined wag across the center of the roadway.

"They don't have to be," Ryan replied. "After all, would we think that if we didn't know?"

"Fair point," Gloria murmured. "But where does it lead us?"

"That's the big question," Ryan mused. "I think the turns are partly meant to disorient us, so we don't know which direction we're headed."

Gloria's face lit up with her lopsided grin. "Stupidworks b.a.s.t.a.r.ds. The day they f.u.c.k with my sense of direction is the day they can burn me, 'cause I'll be better off chilled. We're going straight for the center. They're leading us exactly to where we want to go."

"Then they're going to have a warm reception waiting for us," Ryan warned.

"We can deal with it," the Gate queen said simply.

Another turn came up as she spoke. At the end of the road ahead lay a large expanse of open concrete, leading up to the front of a flat building, the facade of which stretched beyond the perspective of the roadway, hemmed in by the old buildings.

"Now, if I were so dumb, even I wouldn't bet that the stupidworks building down there isn't five sided," Gloria murmured as Ryan clicked back the bolt of his Steyr.

Behind them, the Gate prepared for battle. In the midst, Mildred chambered a slug in her Czech-made ZKR target pistol while J.B. switched his Uzi to rapid fire.

"Dark night, talk about into the jaws of the lion," he murmured, ignoring Mildred's astonished look at such a poetic outburst. As an afterthought, he added: "Guess I've been around Doc too long..."

Chapter Fourteen.

"This is it," Petor breathed from the rear of the caravan with Jon and the armory wag. Margia hurried back to them.

"Get the laser blasters ready. We won't use them yet, but if things get too crazy they may give us the edge." There was a gleam in her eye that suggested she wanted badly for things to get that crazy.

At the front of the caravan, Ryan and Gloria advanced beyond the last line of cover into open s.p.a.ce, with Jak, Krysty and Tammy on their heels. The taller Gate warrior, with her ma.s.s of auburn curls framing a face taut with tension, had risen swiftly in the ranks, and Gloria now trusted her implicitly. It was unspoken, but the manner of her acting had promoted the younger woman in the ranks of the Gate warriors so that she was now almost second to the queen in battle.

The last line of cover itself was a small wall that ran around the last row of buildings before the vast concrete expanse. It was roughly 150 yards in itself, but vast enough when the lack of cover made every inch a potential death trap. The wall was only two and a half feet high and would have been little use as cover in a firefight, but nonetheless it marked a boundary, and Krysty s.h.i.+vered when one foot went beyond that boundary. Her hair closed around her neck. The tendrils that snaked down into her collar spoke volumes of the imminent danger.

"I feel completely naked like this," Gloria whispered to Ryan.

"So do I," the one-eyed warrior replied, "but there's nothing we can do about it.

They've directed us here. Why haven't they picked us off if they can move about the ruins that easily without being seen? Mebbe they want to capture us more than kill us."

"You hope..."

Ryan gave a small shrug. "Mebbe. Just keep triple red and shoot on sight. They won't be expecting that."

Gloria spared him a glance, smiling with that lopsided grin he was getting used to. "You hope..." she said with a dry humor.

"Wish they start," Jak added from just behind. "Getting itchy."

As if on cue, the first attack began, and from directly in front of them.

Emerging into the open forum in front of the building that lay at the center of the complex, it was clearly visible that this was indeed a replica of the Pentagon. The building had the cla.s.sic squared design to its facade, leading off to diagonal walls that took it around in a five-sided shape. The open area of concrete, designed specifically for clearing a no-man's-land s.p.a.ce all around, stretched away from them on all sides, curving around the diagonal walls and forming a circular shape where the decorative walls in front of the last line of buildings were shaped away from the line of the blocks.

It was a h.e.l.l of a large s.p.a.ce in which to be chilled.

The Pentagon look-alike in front of them had few windows on the airless facade, and those that there were had long since been blown out. But they expected the building to be empty aboveground. At a signal from their leader, some of the Gate warriors raised their handblasters to cover the windows above ground level, in case a few sec men fired from above.

It was what Ryan or Gloria would have done. The building provided cover, and the height gave a wider angle of fire. But whoever was in command of the Illuminated Ones' sec force either hadn't thought of such an option, or had a plan that precluded this move, for the windows were as lifeless as they had been since the nukecaust.

On the ground level, the Gate and Ryan's people found that they had emerged at the front of the building. If they had been given pause to consider, it would have been an obvious move-bring them into the open right in front of the main entrance to the building. It revealed something about the mindset of whoever was in charge of the sec attack.

And yet, although things were about to happen too fast for rational and conscious thought, the sight of the front entrance triggered survival and combat instincts in Ryan and Gloria-and their respective forces-that had been honed in long years of battle.

The front of the building consisted of a series of false windows along the length of the wall at ground level. They were shaped into the facade like the windows on the upper levels, but were bricked in with decorative stonework that had eroded and faded into a series of seemingly random shapes. A main entrance arch framed iron double doors that were much more primitive than those on the original Pentagon building. Like everything else on this copy, it was a rough sketch with the emphasis on solid security rather than on accuracy. So the double doors had no subtlety, but were solid enough to withstand even the most hardened firefight. Set along the wall at regular intervals were four other sets of doors, flush to the wall with no arch or b.u.t.tress to shelter them from the elements. The hinges to the doors were protected by being laid back behind the main sh.e.l.l of the door, indicating that they had to open outward.

So, it was obvious from the lack of sec force on the upper levels, and from the fact that they had been brought out to the front of the building, that this was where the attack would stem from-an a.s.sumption that was proved correct as the large double doors began to swing open with a speed that indicated a regular maintenance.

"Dark night," J.B. shouted. "Five fronts-get them covered."

The Armorer had been watching the other sets of doors while Ryan's and Gloria's attention had been focused on the double set. He had seen the four doors begin to open as one, and he was in motion before the first thought in his head had finished forming into his shouted warning.