Free Stand Against The Storm (The Maxwell Saga Book 4) by Peter Grant Page A

looks to be routine for them, the same as they’ve been doing all over Surush since they arrived. They pick a sector at random, patrol it heavily for a day or two, then move somewhere else. They’re trying to prevent problems by keeping troublemakers guessing. Trouble is, it’ll stop us diverting a couple of transporters in this direction.”
    “Damn them! If we’d only had to deal with the spaceport bureaucrats and the Colonial Guard, this would have been easy.” Bairam thought for a moment. “Are they patrolling their new depot at Carsamba as well?”
    “Not that I know of – just the road leading to it.”
    “Then that’s their weak point. I’ll send a team there this afternoon, when they’ve settled into the routine of offloading rations and won’t be expecting trouble. We’ll hit them as the transporters wait to unload, and drive off in a couple of them. By the time they launch hoversats to look for them, we’ll already be back here. They’ll never expect us to be hiding so close to the spaceport.”
    Alarm showed on the other’s face. “What if you’re wrong?”
    “I’m not. You’ll see.”
    “Well, count me out. I’ve got to get back to the spaceport before I’m missed. I can only get away with so many ‘maintenance calls’ or ‘supply runs’ before the boss gets suspicious.”
    “All right. Call me if anythin’ happens that I need to know about.”
    “You got it.”
    As the visitor turned away, Bairam drew his pulser from beneath his fatigue jacket and shot him in the back of the head. The foreman pitched forward onto his face without a sound.
    The sound of the shot brought all of his people to their feet. His second in command ran forward. “What the hell, Boss?”
    “He couldn’t do anything to help us anymore, and he was scared. I could smell it on him and hear it in his voice. If they suspected him and started asking awkward questions, he’d likely have betrayed us. I couldn’t afford that risk.”
    “But… Boss, if we start killing our own when they haven’t actually done anything…”
    “What about it? This is the end for us, Fikri. All we can do now is cause as much damage as possible before they finish us off; but we will go down fighting. I’m not going to let a weak link break our chain as long as there’s still a chance we can strangle the Governor with it!”
    The other knew better than to object further. “OK, Boss. What next?”
    “Get that body out of sight. We’ll bury it in the bush tonight, so hoversats and satellites won’t spot freshly disturbed earth and make their operators wonder what’s under it. I want you to take half a dozen of the boys, including a couple who can drive heavy vehicles, and head for the old Carsamba complex. It’s a depot for the Lancastrian forces now. The ration packs from the spaceport are being sent there. Get there by about fifteen. Hijack a couple of the loaded transporters, drive ’em through the bush beyond the complex to the old Hairun road, then circle back here with ’em.”
    “What about armed guards?”
    “From what this guy told me they don’t have any at Carsamba, so you should be able to get in and out fast and easy. So far the Marines haven’t fought us, and as long as we leave them alone that’ll likely continue, so try to avoid trouble with ’em. Still, we need those rations, so make sure you get ’em, Marines or not. If you have to kill a few, so be it. It’ll teach the rest of ’em to stay out of our way.”
    “Will do, boss.”
    ~ ~ ~
    Gunnery Sergeant Kinnear bellowed, “Hold that transporter right there! We’ve got to clear the backlog before you let any more in.”
    The Marine engineer directing traffic at the edge of the hardstand called, “Aye aye, Gunnery Sergeant,” and held up a commanding hand. The driver of the approaching vehicle obediently braked to a stop, as did a second heavily-laden transporter in its wake.
    Kinnear turned back to the growing double row of pallets on the