Читать книгу The Knights Victorious - William Speir - Страница 12

Saturday, November 9, Afternoon

van Blommestein Meer Reservoir

Somewhere Between the Afobaka Dam and Pokigron

The sun was hanging low in the western sky as the army convoy finally reached the southern end of the Blommestein Meer Reservoir. The reservoir was a man-made lake created by the Afobaka Dam on the Suriname River. The Reservoir was almost forty miles long and thirty miles across, and the Afobaka Dam sat on the northern tip. The southern end was defined by several hills and ridges, which provided a good defensive position for the army.

The Commanding General of the army ordered his men to deploy in a formation consisting of three lines. Pickets would patrol along the outer foothills, while the main force would spread out in two curved lines along the ridges with the reservoir to their backs. The key would be to make sure that each line had ways to communicate with the other two lines should the rebels be detected coming from any direction.

The army soldiers went to work immediately, and the defensive positions were laid out and manned quickly. The Commander was pleased that his men had been able to make a 180 kilometer retreat without looking or acting defeated. The situation was grave, but the soldiers were conducting themselves like professionals. The rebels may have a large force out there, but they’re in for a real fight if they attack us here.

Once the soldiers were in position, the senior officers met with the Commanding General for a conference. The last rays of sunlight were just disappearing as the Commanding General complimented his officers on how well the soldiers had deployed and secured the area.

“Please pass along my compliments to all of your men,” the Commanding General said. “They withdrew from our position near Cottica, moved 180 kilometers northwest, and set up new defensive positions like true soldiers. Are we sure that we have a good communications mechanism set up?”

“Yes, sir,” his second-in-command responded. “We have runners every hundred meters to carry messages between each of the lines.”

“Good. I know that it’s risky, since we don’t know the number or the location of the enemy, but I want scouts sent out. Tell them to locate the enemy, assess their strength, and find the units that were to link up with us from the west, assuming that they haven’t been destroyed.”

“I have a unit of commandos that would be best suited for the job,” one of the Major’s said. “They know how to move quickly, they’re excellent trackers, and they know what to do if they’re cut off behind enemy lines. Given the current deployment of the army, I think that they’d be more valuable seeking out and potentially harassing the enemy.”

“Very well,” the Commanding General said. “Send them out in every direction from our current position. I want to know if any of the enemy is approaching from Pokigron, the Dam, or anywhere in between. I also want to know what’s going on back in the capital. Until we know how big this rebellion is and how far it’s spread, we can’t commit ourselves to any one course of action.”

“Yes, sir,” the Major responded. “I’ll have them start deploying within the hour. Do you want prisoners?”

“I want information,” the Commanding General replied. “How your men get the information is up to them. They may want to capture some of the rebels and interrogate them, but I don’t see the value in trying to return here with the prisoners still alive unless they have something highly valuable to offer.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Gentlemen, I believe that the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours will determine the future of our country. Make sure your men are rested and fed, and make sure that they stay vigilant. We can’t let ourselves get caught in another trap or put in a position where we can’t defend ourselves. We’re on our own, but we may be the only thing keeping the rebels from accomplishing whatever it is they’re after. Because of the communications problems, I want to meet with the senior officers every four hours. We must be able to coordinate our activities at all costs.”

The meeting ended, and the officers returned to their units. The Commanding General walked back to the truck serving as his headquarters and sat down. An aide brought him a meal of standard field rations – the same food his soldiers were eating – and he ate it absentmindedly as he tried to put himself in the mind of the rebel leader. How and when will you come at us?

Two Knights from the Paramaribo Commandery moved cautiously across the capital to the southern part of the city. The Grand Master had asked for volunteers to gather intelligence that the surveillance cameras around the city couldn’t provide, and he especially wanted to know why a large force was gathering to the south.

The capital city was lit up more than usual since the rebels were using the additional light to help with their night patrols. The patrols were using loudspeakers to announce a sunset curfew for the city, making it harder for the Knights to reconnoiter and get back to the Commandery safely. It had been slow going, but the two Knights had almost reached the airport and the staging area where the troops were gathered.

When they arrived, it was easy to see that the perimeter was well-guarded. One of the Knights pointed to an area that wasn’t well-lit, near several large trucks with odd-looking trailers attached, and the two Knights moved toward that area, doing their best to be as silent and as invisible as possible.

The army commando unit deployed in two-man teams shortly after the Major returned from his meeting with the army’s Commanding General. Several of the teams were deployed on foot to probe the area that was immediately in front of the army’s position, while the other teams left in small transport vehicles to scout farther away.

Team Six was tasked with trying to find the missing army units to the west. Even though it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack, the team began its search along the most plausible route that the units might have taken. They drove off into the night with the vehicle’s lights off, preferring to use their night-vision goggles instead. It would make it easier to sneak up on any rebel patrols in the area, and it would help prevent anyone from seeing them and reporting their position.

The Legate, the Prefect, the Tribunes, and the Senior Centurions of the Legion were meeting in the Legate’s mobile headquarters, talking with the leader of the rebels near Cottica by radio. “What do you mean you still don’t know where the army is?” the Legate demanded, irritated at the rebel officer’s incompetence.

“They left several false trails when they withdrew from Cottica,” the rebel officer explained. “We have to check them one by one, which isn’t easy in the darkness. We’d be better off waiting until first light, but we’d lose several hours if we did that.”

“I don’t understand how two thousand soldiers in trucks could just disappear,” the Legate fumed.

“The area down here is mostly rainforest and hilly. It’s easy to get lost and hard to pick up a trail.”

“What’s the most likely direction they took?”

“I can’t believe that they’d go west, so I’d say they went north.”

“Back toward the capital?”

“Perhaps, or perhaps toward the river. Without working communications, I don’t think that they’d attempt to come back to the capital unless they knew what was going on first. If it were up to me, I’d find a good defensive position to wait until the situation became clearer.”

“Are you checking all of the potential locations they might be using?”

“No sir, we’re still following their trails to see if we can find which way they went.”

The Legate shook his head. The rebels were committed to Francisco’s dream for the country, but they lacked any real strategic military competence. “If you were the army Commander, where would you go to hide?” he asked.

The rebel leader hesitated for a moment before answering. “I’d head toward the Afobaka Dam on the Suriname River. There are hills around there that would provide a difficult position for us to attack, and I might try to seize the dam as either a bargaining chip or potentially to destroy it to disrupt our plans.”

The Legate looked at the map and noted that the dam was on the northern end of a large reservoir. “Move the bulk of your forces in that direction. We’ll meet you there late tomorrow, and by then, perhaps you’ll have found where the army went.”

“Yes, Legate. We’ll move out immediately.”

The Legate motioned for an aide to cut the communications link. Turning to his senior officers, he shook his head. “We have to find the army and destroy it in the next couple of days. The new President’s announcing the overthrow of the government later tonight, and our partners in the Cayman Islands are supposed to start moving their bullion here tomorrow. They can’t bring that much money into the country unless the army has been neutralized!”

“We’ll find them, Legate,” the Prefect said. “They can’t go far without support, and the country’s not that big.”

“I know,” the Legate admitted, “but I want it over and done with. We have business of our own to start thinking about, not to mention the conquests of Guyana and French Guiana to be planned and executed early in the new year. Tell your Legionnaires to get some rest. We’ll head out at first light. Someone call my driver and tell him to take me back to the Presidential Palace. I have to be there for the President’s broadcast.”

The officers of the Legion stood up and followed the Legate out of the mobile headquarter. As they returned to the site where the Cohorts were bivouacked for the evening, no one noticed two figures lying on the ground in the shadows next to the trailer where the officers had been meeting.

Once the officers had moved away, one of the Knights whispered. “Did you hear that?”

“Every word,” the other Knight replied.

“Let’s get back and tell the Grand Master.”

The other Knight nodded, and the two men started making their way back to the perimeter.