Henry kept his mouth shut on the way out. Not because he didn't have anything to say – he had plenty, alright – but because he had no idea what kind of magical bullshit might exist for eavesdropping. Enhanced hearing, remote sensing, some kind of ‘detect shit-talking’ spell; all were within the realm of possibility. The list of things they hadn’t cataloged yet was a lot longer than the list of things they had. And if anyone seemed like the type to invest in surveillance magic just to catch people badmouthing him, it was Lucan.
So he settled for a neutral “Let’s grab lunch at the inn,” and left it at that.
They filed out of the Guild hall and into the cold, breath fogging in the mountain air as they walked. A party of adventurers passed them heading the opposite direction – snow-dusted, monster blood streaking their armor, towing one of Red Sail’s high-end Holding Carts. Whatever they’d bagged, it had them in good spirits; one of them bragged about the kill while another argued over who’d landed the finishing blow. Business as usual in Kharvûk.
Henry waited until they’d put two blocks between themselves and the Guild before glancing at Sera. She still looked like she wanted to strangle someone. He couldn’t blame her, honestly. He’d dealt with his fair share of assholes over the years, but never one quite so committed to the craft. Lucan was in a league of his own.
Her simmering continued even until they reached the inn.
The inn’s common room was half-empty when they arrived – enough patrons to generate background noise, not enough to crowd them. Henry picked a corner table away from the main cluster and flagged down a server.
The menu was dwarven through and through: meat, bread, ale, and enough calories to fuel a twelve-hour shift in a forge. Henry ordered a spread for the table: some sort of braised shank, meat pies, bowls of mushroom soup, and bread. The server noted their order and took her leave.
Sera was the first to speak. “Well, then. I confess, I had harbored some faint hope he might have changed. Oh, how foolish of me.”
“From what you’ve told me, I can’t say I expected any different,” Henry said. “But hoping’s free, I guess.”
“A pity, then, that it buys so little.” She tipped her cup, watching the swirl of tea. “Ugh. You must have seen it, Henry. Pray tell me you did.”
“See what?” Henry asked.
“The whole party clustered about him like abashed schoolboys, hanging upon every flicker of his countenance for the least intimation of his will. Tancred, yes; one expects nothing better from such a fawning, toad-eating creature. But the rest of them?” She rolled her eyes. “Heavens above.”
“To be fair,” Doc offered, “I should think they’re well aware of what he is. Perhaps they simply lack the luxury of choice. People can find themselves stuck to a man like that, even when they’d sooner not.”
Sera opened her mouth, then stopped. “Then all the more cause to rob him of their reverence. Let them glimpse the cracks, and see if they’ve the wit to flee.”
“Great for them,” Ron said. “Doesn’t change how we’re stuck with him, though.”
Henry recalled what he was going to tell the others. “You know, just as he was leaving… you wanna know what he told me?”
The others nodded.
Henry pushed down a scoff. “He said to ‘keep the fuck out of our way,’ like we’re the liability. Like, alright, bro.”
“The audacity,” Sera said, shaking her head. “The absolute gall of that preening fool.”
Hayes chuckled at that. “Ain’t the worst it could be, believe it or not.” He downed a portion of his drink before continuing, “I knew a boy like that in the Unit. Could play humble when the cadre were watchin’, but once he thought he’d made it? Acted like his shit ain’t stink. Kicked his ass out by year’s end, naturally.”
“Were he any less gifted, they’d have dismissed him outright.” She let out a slow breath, deflating a little. “But talent buys indulgence, and Lucan has just wit enough to skirt the edge of every stricture without tumbling over it. So long as he dazzles them, they shall ignore the ‘stink of shit’, as Hayes has so eloquently stated.”
“Yeah, well.” Henry leaned back. “Can’t kick him out. So we gotta plan around him.”
Ron snorted. “Plan around him. Like he’s weather.”
Henry laughed. “Or a pothole. Any ideas, Sera? Anything to look out for?”
Sera didn’t hesitate. “He shall commit too early, certainly. The moment he perceives an opening – or fancies that he does – he shall take it. He cannot abide that another should claim the decisive blow.”
“And his people follow,” Henry said.
“I should expect so. You saw how they watched him – I doubt any among them would think to hesitate.”
Henry let out a sigh. Predictable was… something. Better than unpredictability, anyway. If Lucan was going to glory-hound the second things went kinetic, at least they could position around it.
“Lie about the strike time,” Yen said. “Tell him the wrong hour. By the time he shows up, it’s already done.”
There was no way in hell Henry would follow through with that idea, but it was worth a consideration. It was tactically sound, and it would solve the problem cleanly. Technically. But, for obvious reasons… “I’d rather not,” he said. “He’s gonna know we cut him off, then he takes it to Hedrin, and suddenly we’re the assholes who can’t play nice with allies.”
“Last resort, then,” Yen said.
Doc joined in. “If we have no other choice but to integrate Lucan’s Chosen, then we must also consider firing lanes. Lucan himself is a swordsman; he will doubtlessly want to close with the enemy.”
Henry had already considered that. “There is a solution to that. A shitty one, but a solution nonetheless. Of course, we could just let Lucan initiate. His Chosen charge in first, we provide supporting fire, pick off runners.”
He let that sit for a second. “But then that means we’re just playing support, just along for the ride.”
Ron snorted. “Hard fucking pass.”
“Yeah, ain’t much a fan of that one,” Hayes said.
Henry drummed his fingers on the table, trying to find another solution. Then something clicked – a loophole so clean that even a genie would have to honor it.
“What?” Ron asked, probably noticing a smile that had started to leak out.
Henry embraced the smile. “We don’t have to cut him out. We just set up like normal – together, same ambush site. See, Lucan probably doesn’t know our range. He’ll assume we’re all waiting for the convoy to get close, and then we open up at five hundred meters and it’s over before he can move.”
“Mm, real sneaky,” Ron approved. “That’ll get his ass for sure.”
“Real smooth,” Hayes corrected, grinning.
“Oh, I should love to see his face,” Sera added, and for a moment she looked genuinely tempted. Then she sighed. “Alas, prudence would counsel otherwise.”
“Fuck it,” Yen said. “So what?”
It took almost everything Henry had not to agree on the spot. “As much as I’d love to tell him to fuck off, we need him for Velkrath. Him and his Chosen. If he walks into that assault thinking we screwed him over—”
“He shall find ways to vex us,” Sera finished. “When the moment comes that we need him most, he shall find cause to hesitate.”
“Yeah. That.” Henry pushed his plate aside, which was mostly empty now. “Alright. Let’s wrap up and head to my room, see what we’re working with.”
They settled the tab and headed up. Henry’s room was the largest of the bunch, which wasn’t saying much, but it had a table big enough to spread out on. He pulled the tablet from his pack and started loading the files.
Armstrong’s latest ISR package had come in while they were at the Guild. He pulled up the files and gave them a quick scroll. The convoy was about halfway to Korth Varren based on the last capture, right on schedule for an evening arrival.
From there the pattern was straightforward: overnight at Korth Varren, return run to Velkrath tomorrow, then back out again the following day. If they kept to schedule, Alpha Team could intercept them on that next outbound leg to Korth Varren.
Henry started with the big picture – Velkrath in the southwest, Korth Varren in the northeast, thirty kilometers of valleys and ridgelines threading between them.
“Alright. Convoy’s currently en route to Korth Varren – should arrive this evening. They overnight there, head back to Velkrath tomorrow, then make the return trip Wednesday. That’s our window.”
He switched to the thermal overlay and tapped the observation post, halfway between the two major bases. “Observation post here. We’re gonna have to skirt around it to avoid detection. Thankfully, there’s a decent path for our MRAPs – off to the side, maybe a couple extra hours of driving. We should make it by tomorrow night, assuming Lucan’s on board.”
He swapped to Korth Varren.
“Big fort up north’s got twelve to fifteen hundred, plus all the crystallons they’ve got stabled. Four EXs are gonna turn this into a parking lot. Observation post gets the two Lightnings. Simultaneous TOT – by the time Velkrath figures out something’s wrong, both positions are already smoking.”
He zoomed out and traced the convoy’s outbound route, stopping at a ridge about four kilometers southwest of Korth Varren.
“And this is where we get to play. Korth Approach – last ridge before the route drops into the basin. Convoy crests here, Korth Varren’s right in front of them. We’ll be able to see Korth Varren in the distance, maybe four or five klicks out. We’ll set up cameras along the way, and use our drones to monitor the convoy.
“Airstrikes are gonna hit at 1700 two days from now, on Wednesday. Convoy should be approaching the ridge right around then if they maintain their usual pace. And the moment they watch their destination explode, right when they’re shitting themselves trying to figure out what just happened – that’s when we open up.”
He zoomed in on the nearby terrain, which included an exposed ridgeline with sparse cover – nowhere for the convoy to scatter. The relatively flat upper ridge also meant that they could reposition to match the convoy’s speed, if needed.
“We’ll set up right above the path, on top of the cliff.”
“What, so Lucan will have to climb down in order to engage, on top of having to cover half a klick?” Yen asked.
Henry chuckled. “That’s part of it. A bonus, I’d say. The cherry on top. I’m definitely not picking this spot just for that.”
Sera gave a knowing smirk. “Is that so…”
Henry played it off. “Hey, it really is good positioning. And if it just so happens to give Lucan more trouble, that’s just a coincidence. Anyway, I’ll cover the front with Owens and Sera. Hayes, you take the rear with the others, block off the escape route. As for Lucan’s Chosen… well. Something tells me that if I assign him to the rear, he won’t be able to keep it in his pants and just go charging in.”
“Sounds about right,” Hayes agreed.
Henry nodded. “So I’ll have him stick with me, and chances are he won’t be able to charge down the cliff until we’re already done.”
“He’s gonna be so pissed,” Ron said.
Now, Henry did technically say that he aimed to mitigate political drama earlier, but did he really want to? If the tactical plan suggested otherwise, who was he to argue?
So he just shrugged. “He’s free to write a strongly worded complaint to the Guild later.”
Henry then walked them through the engagement sequence. The MRAPs would do most of the work – M2s and Mk 47s had more than enough reach to cover the kill zone. The mage in Lucan’s party would be welcome to help, assuming she had the range.
Priority targets were the mounted hobgoblins, crystallons especially. Those things could actually close the distance fast enough to matter if they weren’t put down immediately. After that, they take down the sledge drivers – stop the column in place, keep them bunched in the kill zone. Then it was just a matter of working the infantry until nothing was left moving.
TOWs were overkill for individual targets, but if any of them decided to cluster up or the crystallons started grouping for a charge, that was what the missiles were for.
“I’m guessing we’ll be done within a minute or two. We’ll cease fire once Lucan gets down there, let him heroically slaughter the survivors on his own. And maybe help out with some precision fire, if he genuinely needs it. We’ll brief Lucan’s Chosen tomorrow morning. Hopefully it won’t take too long to explain how airstrikes work.”
“Hopefully we needn’t explain the principles of an ‘ambush,’” Sera added.
“Yeah, that too.”
The others huffed a laugh under their breaths, but didn’t have much else to add, so Henry rang up Armstrong.
“Armstrong TOC, Armstrong TOC, this is Alpha Actual. Radio check, over.”
Chippy’s distinct crinkle seeped through the radio. “Alpha Actual, this is Armstrong TOC. Read you Lima Charlie. What can I do for you, sir?”
“Requesting Air Ops coordination for a strike package. Over.”
“Roger, Alpha Actual. Stand by for transfer.”
The line clicked over. A different, drier voice popped up. “Alpha Actual, this is Armstrong Air Ops. Lieutenant Daniels. I understand you need coordination.”
“Affirmative. Strike package for Wednesday at 1700. Two targets, simultaneous TOT, plus ISR confirmation before we step off.”
“Copy. Send target details.”
Henry read off the details, which Daniels copied back without comment.
“The aerostats don’t reach up there yet,” Daniels noted.
“Yeah,” Henry confirmed. “It’d be great to have comms, but we’ll make do. Fixed strike, bombs on schedule.”
“Understood. Stand by, Alpha Actual. I’m going to get Colonel Kimball on the line for this.”
“Standing by.”
The name was familiar – Kimball was a newer transfer; came in with the F-15EXs. With a growing air wing, General Harding had apparently seen fit to bring a Chief of Air Operations to Gaerra. Rank and title aside, everything else was a blank.
The radio crackled with a rough, almost laid-back voice. “Alpha Actual, this is Colonel Kimball. Daniels passed me your package. Sounds like you’ve got something interesting for me.”
“Yes, sir. Two targets, simultaneous TOT, preplanned strike. We won’t have comms once we’re in position.”
“Deconfliction – where’s your team gonna be?”
“About four to five klicks southwest of Korth Varren. Observation post is twenty klicks from our position. We’re clear on both.”
“Good. Then here’s what I can do for you. Four F-15EX on Korth Varren, full load – JDAMs and SDBs, mix optimized for structural targets. That fortress is going to have a very bad afternoon. Two F-35As on the observation post, carrying GBU-53s. Aircraft will be on station at 1645, ordnance on target at 1700 sharp.”
“Copy all, sir.”
“And for updates – I’ll have a bird up at 0500 tomorrow. Report to you by 0800, before you head to the Guild. And for Medevac, I’ll put Pedro on standby starting 1400. Response time to your grid is about two hours, which is the best I can give you at that range.”
Henry didn’t think they’d need a rescue element for a handful of goblins, but he appreciated it nonetheless. “That works.”
A sigh echoed through the radio. “Goblins watching airstrikes blow up ancient fortresses, then you hit them in the confusion. That’s a nice piece of planning, Captain. I almost wish I could see it.”
“I’ll take pictures, sir.”
Kimball laughed. “You do that. Alright, Alpha Actual – you’ll have your aircraft at 1700. Don’t waste them.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”
“Kimball out.”
Henry set the radio down. The guy sounded like a fighter jock, definitely. He was probably disappointed he had to sit back and push pencils instead of participating in actual strike packages, but Henry could tell that this was a man who knew his business. That was the best type to work with.
Lucan, on the other hand…
Ron read his mind. “Here’s hoping Lucan agrees to all this.”
Now that he had the opportunity to actually go through the plan, Henry made up his mind. “Yeah, well, not much we can do otherwise. If he doesn’t like it, he can stay home and we’ll take the credit.”