MSG: In Vain Doth Valour Bleed

Chapter 10 (part 2)

[b]Lammersdorf, Rheinland-Pfalz, Central Europe
November 9, 0087

"The package has been retrieved intact, Kommandant. Connect the call once again," spoke von Seydlitz's voice.

"Understood. Transmitting now." The still-hostage Federation soldier dutifully pressed the red closed-circuit link between Heidelberg and Bonn, relieved when the sour barrel of Weissdrake's pistol was removed from her mouth.

"You and your people have done well, princess," spoke the badly scarred man in the Zeon uniform who killed without remorse. "I told you that you and yours would live a little longer with cooperation, and I did not lie. Stay here with the connection open for ten minutes, and you will all be freed. Do not venture outside until then, or you forfeit your safety. Is that clear, Untermensch?"

As a collective, the five survivors of the Lammersdorf on-duty Signals platoon nodded plaintively. Weissdrake nodded in return and walked out of the building. The fires in the other structures were dying down, except for the motor pool. He nodded at the Foxe twins' Gelgoog Jaegers as he climbed into his own Command Gelgoog, relieved that the rescue went according to plan.

"We're done here. Waste the rest of this place, then let's go."

In unison, the twin beam machineguns raked incandescent fire across the telecommunications dishes and the master control building. What did not slag under the energy of their fire simply burned under the intensity of the beams. A few bursts were all it took, and Lammersdorf ceased to exist as an installation.

"Maximum ground speed, kids. We have an appointment to make, and only three hours to make it in."

Running at their top speeds, the Gelgoog Jaegers were faster than his own Command Gelgoog, but 180 kph wasn't shabby. Hurtling through the forests and hills of the North Rhine-Palatinate, they made for an easterly direction, avoiding centers of population when possible.

Bonn, Nordrhein-Westfalen, Central Europe
November 9, 0087

It had been ten minutes since von Seydlitz had spoken to them, but no move had been made to leave. Not since Sajer had boldly and proudly announced that he had just exercised one of the powers of his office and had von Mellenthin killed. Now, Lucas Edgrove waited for the repercussions that were sure to happen, wondering which city would die first as Nemesis was brought to bear. There were many possibilities, and most were betting it would be right here in Bonn. As it was, there were a lot of soda cans littering the surface of the great table now, instead of water pitchers and glasses.

I can't believe he did that. What an absolute idiot. Sajer still perched in his chair, eyes sharp and head held high. He was practically smirking, thinking that the death of von Mellenthin would convince von Seydlitz that the Titans did not fear him or Nemesis, and that the man would surrender. For once, Edgrove wished his Titans adjutant was a combat veteran, just to even hope to explain to this hothead that their possession of von Mellenthin was the only thing holding von Seydlitz back. If the 'Hessian Lion' were indeed dead, then the 'Black Eagle' would massacre the world in his rage. Surrender was not an option to be contemplated now, any more than it was contemplated at Metz.

Behind his eyes, Sajer was becoming concerned. One of the components of Plan Whisper was a callback once the deed was done. Mannheim had been silent for some time now, and this worried him. He would never allow it to show to these lessers, but he began to wonder if things went as well as they were supposed to. That he would catch heat for the slaughter of the entire prison complex, including the administration and the civilians, did not bother him. There had been a riot going on at the time, after all. The destruction of the building would erase the rest of the traces. He was so wrapped up in his thought that he did not hear Edgrove calling his name the first time.

"Captain Sajer!" snapped across his hearing, and he looked at Edgrove with contempt.

"Yes, Colonel? What do you want?"

Edgrove drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"There've been reports of three Dom-type mobile suits in the vicinity of Mannheim. That matches the report we got from Heidelberg that three Dom-types left their other suits at high speed, due north. Better call your people and find out who won."

Sajer blinked, then reached for his phone. Edgrove turned to the others in the room. "That makes nine confirmed suits, people, plus whatever they used in Lammersdorf. He's got close to company strength to play with, on top of his bioweapon."

"He can't have more than a dozen suits," snarled Sajer, "it's just not possible."

"My question is: how'd he get nine suits in the first place, especially suits that are better than what the 10th had during the War? Where'd he dig them up from?" queried Frank, the Rapid Response officer.

"We're checking on that with Anaheim and others now. Could he have gotten them from Axis?"

"I doubt it," said Edgrove, "they don't seem to be on speaking terms with their Spacenoid brethren. Remember the speech, he said that Axis would be judged, too. For treason."

"Could be a bluff."

"This whole thing could be a bluff, but we can't take that---"

The vidscreen flared to life again before Edgrove could finish, and the cold gray eyes turned themselves upon them again. "Interesting. You have disabled the interior video cameras so that I cannot see you all. No matter. I thought I would take great pleasure in informing you that your Titans assassins have failed you. Our General lives, and is presently en route to me here. We had to break a few things, mostly Titans, to retrieve him, but he is unharmed, and so are my people."

Sajer threw the phone across the room angrily. "You son of a bitch! You murdered my people!!"

"Who were in the process of murdering the entire prison, including the Federation guards and the civilian news people. Titans are tough guys when they are hiding behind tanker trucks of phosgene gas and their foes are chained inside an abattoir, but they have no spine whatsoever on the field of battle. Three Doms took down four GMs easily enough, and never got touched. Why the AEUG has such problems with you greenhorns I will never know."

"This has gone far enough, Colonel von Seydlitz," spoke Edgrove, finding a voice around the fear that a freed von Mellenthin generated in him. "Surely we can come to an---"

"Understanding? Not likely. I was going to be content in letting you and yours leave the Zeon state of Germania alive, but it seems you would rather put up a fight. Well, we would love to accommodate your last military campaign, but we have an appointment in Berlin and a government to run, not to mention eight NewTypes to raise."

"Don't you dare!!" begged Edgrove. "Not them! Please!"

"Oh?" Von Seydlitz tilted his head to the side. "They are that important to you? Why?"

Edgrove was silent, and the Zeon Colonel's harsh eyes began to twinkle in amusement.

"I see. You need them to kill Titans with."

"HUH??" spat Sajer, glaring at the screen.

"Very slick, breeding natural NewTypes to fight the devil you created. Give them a dozen years or so, then use them to put down the Titans and restore power to the Federation. Who among you realized that you had given away all your bullets in the course of the negotiation? You, Colonel? One of your old Generals? Preparing for the long-term campaign, were we?"

Edgrove's fists were clenched tight, and tears shimmered in his eyes. "God damn you, von Seydlitz!!" Our only hope . . .taken by our worst nightmare . . .

"It is for the best this way, Colonel. You would have no conception of the proper care of a genetically superior being. Best leave such things to your betters, like myself. We will take excellent care of them, and Zeon will be stronger for it. If you and yours want to rid yourselves of Titans, you can always do what we had to do and start a war. Yes, a nice civil war to decide who will rule and who will die. It would be quite the revelation, would it not? Still, if you want to lose more of your men and mobile suits trying to stop the 10th Panzerkaempfer and reclaim your 'property', tell your weaklings and cowards to meet us in the place where one empire ended and another began. As a sign of my magnanimosity, and as a bone to throw you after the dismal defeat of a Titans platoon to three older yet far superior mobile suit designs, I pledge to withhold Nemesis from the waters until after we reach Berlin. If you have not done as I have tasked you by that time, the world will die. Now if you will excuse me, I have a welcome to attend to. Fare poorly, and may your path be sown with thorns and stones."

Von Seydlitz's face moved out of the range of the screen, and another face appeared. This one was so different from von Seydlitz, it was a study in contrasts. His rank tabs bore the pips for a Commander.

"Oh, yeah, and one more thing, assholes: watch your step to Hell, cause it's a loooooooong fall!! Toodle-oo!!" And the screen went black.

Sajer turned and faced all of them with a look of utter disgust on his face. "You f***ing backstabbing traitors!! Why didn't you tell---?"

"NOT NOW!!" yelled Edgrove over the Titan's diatribe. "This is a fight we'll have later."

Sajer nodded rapidly, like a jackal. "You're damn right we will, Colonel," he spat the rank like a curse. "Right now, I'm calling Major Tizard and telling him to get the 54th mobilized! We'll see if that **** and his nine suits have the guts to take on a brigade of Titans this time!"

"No, you won't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm exercising my authority as Commander-in-Chief of Europe and superceding the Titans in this matter."

Sajer actually hissed, making him appear all the more reptilian. "Which regulation is it this time, Edgrove?"

"None. I'm just tired of listening to you babble. You fiddlesticks up, we'll fix it." He looked at the Signals officer. "Get me Kassel on the line. I'll speak with Captain Cramer myself. And get the historian in here after all. We're about to have a conference call."

Heidelberg, Baden-Wuerttemberg, Central Europe
November 9, 0087

"Pack up your children, Kommandant. It is time we left this place."

The younger Zeon held out a hand to Erik, who took it without hesitation. "Let's go, gang. We're going on a field trip."

"To where?" asked one of the others as they followed von Seydlitz down the hallway in a line.

"The mountains. We're going to meet our boss, and then we're going to---"

Von Seydlitz ground to a halt, then slowly turned around and marched two steps back, grabbing Erik's face in a gray-gloved hand with an inordinate amount of violence.

"H-hey, Reinhardt, what the hell?" stammered de la Somme, shocked.

"Do you like being inside people's heads, child?" asked von Seydlitz to the small face gripped with bruising force in his fingers. "Do you enjoy playing in people's heads?"

A whimper managed to escape the pinched-in lips.

"Let me show you what is in MY head, child, and learn this lesson well!" And von Seydlitz concentrated on hate. It flowed from him like a wave of empathic poison, into the wide-open mind of an eight year-old boy, who tried to scream and could not around the relentless grasp of the fingers. Von Seydlitz showed the child the War, Metz, and the endless hate he had for Terra, for the Federation, and for everyone who had cost them the War. Nothing but pure hate.

After the child began to sob chokingly, von Seydlitz released him, and the boy fell backwards into de la Somme's arms.

"Stay OUT of MY head, NewType! We are not so different, you and I, in that I know all the ways to hurt you as I know the ways to hurt myself. Remember this!"

With a steel glare at de la Somme, who looked like he was about to cry himself, von Seydlitz stalked on down the hall. "I am not here to be a f***ing nice person, Antares. Get used to that, if you have not by now! Lacerta! Has the data been cleansed from the system?"

"Yes, sir. It's all gone. We've wiped the slate clean."

"Excellent," he turned to the captives and spread his arms wide. "Thank you all for the choice hospitality. We will be leaving you now, and taking your wards with us for proper education. They will be treated as well as they deserve, no more, no less. Take my advice, scientists: if you want to practice genetic research, go to Side 3. In the meantime, get out of town and do not return to Germania. We are the new management, and you are all just Earthers to us. Get out!!"

They did not have to be told twice. Helping the wounded director, they herded outside the building and ran into the winter air, not looking back.

"Lock this place up as we leave. It is history. Load the children into the truck's cargo pod, Kommandant." He pulled out his handset and spoke on the unit 'push'. "Get the suits moving towards the Taunus. Kapitaen Roberts, you have point, but do not leave us behind, especially slothful Gefreiter Haskell in that Zaku Cannon. Kommandant Margul, your people occupy flanks at three- and nine-o'clock, as well as our six to cover us. Seventy klicks, maximum ground speed. Space the suits in a circle with three kilometers between each one. The truck runs in the center, along with the Zaku Cannon. We have not as far to go as the others, so we need not rush. Blast anything Feddie that comes near us. Let us be away from this place."

With a lurch and a rumble, the truck began moving, and its armored guardians moved with it like bull elephants protecting the herd. In fact, that was very close to what they were doing. With but a whisper compared to the raucous entry they made when arriving, the Zeon left Heidelberg and ventured northward.

Bonn, Nordrhein-Westfalen, Central Europe
November 9, 0087

Garrett Sajer did not need to return to the confines of his office to dwell on the ramifications of Plan Whisper's failure, but he did anyway, if just to remove himself from the presence of Edgrove. When the Federation Colonel had declared that the Titans were out of the loop in tracking down the 10th Panzerkaempfer, he had ground his teeth together so hard it was a miracle that something did not crack. As it was, he had a sore jaw now, and that did not enhance his mood any.

One of the worst things about being in Bonn was his lack of mobile suit access. He had considered rounding up whoever was willing and giving chase himself, but his Barzam was in Lyons, along with the rest of the Titans. These Federal sheep would rather sit and relent to von Seydlitz's demands than risk their own necks hunting down nine old Zeon mobile suits. They would be too busy **** themselves in fear of Nemesis.

Sajer knew that von Seydlitz had fiddlesticks up. The Zeon Colonel had alluded to an activation code that controlled the devices that would release Nemesis into the water supply. That means he had to be alive to use that code. To Sajer, "removing the man with the code" translated to "threat no longer relevant". It would be so easy.

Still, it was a gutsy move on Edgrove's part to commit the only viable combat force the Federation possessed in Germany: the 103rd Mobile Infantry Company based in Kassel. Most of them were green recruits, but their commander was Captain Herschel Invictus Cramer, who'd fought in Africa during the War. Sajer knew him by reputation. He was a prissy bastard, but a capable one. And a Federation MI company was numerically superior to a Zeon one. Nine suits would wither quickly in the firepower of twenty assorted Federation armored assets.

What annoyed Sajer the most was that the best chance to see combat to ever step on European soil was going to be claimed by Federal Forces and not Titans, especially himself. Killing a pair of Zeon aces and a group of malcontent veterans would be quite the feather in the cap of the 54th TTAB, especially in the eyes of the other Titans. Enough that the heads of the 10th Panzerkaempfer would perhaps convince the Titans hierarchy that they were wrong about Captain Garrett Sajer, and assign him to space combat duty.

For the first time in his life, he began to pray that the Spacenoids won against the 103rd MI. Then, he would get his chance.

He mashed the speed dial button on the phone for Lyons, then waited to hear it pick up. "Major? This is Sajer. Edgrove's committing the 103rd, sir. We're not going to be allowed into this one."

"It doesn't matter, Captain."

"Sir?"

"Cramer will lose. He's a pro, but not the kind needed for this mission. Von Seydlitz is out of Cramer's league, and not in the good way. Even if they succeed in a Hail Mary, the 103rd will no longer be an effective combat force when it's done."

"How can you tell?"

"Study history. Von Seydlitz has, and he's had eight years to think this move up. Cramer will go in thinking his numbers will pull him through, and he'll get nothing but mauled in the process. Any fool can see it."

Sajer did not mention that he, himself, did not. "Orders, sir?"

"Stay close to Edgrove. When Cramer's people bite it, be there to say 'I told you so'. We'll get our chance, Garrett, don't fear about that. I've already begun preparing the logistics needed for the operation."

Sajer swallowed nervously. "Um, sir? I feel the need to report that during von Seydlitz's second contact with us, I initiated Plan Whisper. I must report that it failed, with the loss of all four of our people."

There was a long pause on the other end. Then, "Very well. Now Cramer's goose is really cooked."

"How so, sir?"

"Von Seydlitz just got his boss back, which just increased the threat of those nine suits by a factor of ten. Von Mellenthin's calling the shots, and he's the best Terrestrial armored operations strategist the Zeeks had in the War. He's the brain behind von Seydlitz's claws. Be ready, Captain. We will have a fight coming, and I expect to win it, 'Hessian Lion' or no."

"Understood, Major. See you on the field."

Tizard hung up, and Sajer, ever the hater of reading and research, began rummaging around in the database for reference material on Major General Dietrich von Mellenthin and the 10th Panzerkaempfer Division.