Part 10: Sonderfrauen und Sonderkraftfahrzeuge

Anton Zozulya was standing on the dock when the commandeered runabout pulled in, the improvised white flag at the stern snapping about in a stiff breeze. Kang had never met the man in person, but she knew his face from several mugshots. Ex-VDV, her memory supplied automatically. Commended for bravery in Chechnya. Became involved in arms dealing after leaving the military. Supposed to be a big player in the Asian weapons market.

Zozulya's presence didn't bode well, despite the smile on his face. "Welcome to our humble hell-hole," he said in accented English, kneeling to tie up the boat's docklines. "The commissar will be here any minute."

Kang kept a wary eye on the Russian as she climbed onto the dock. "Commissar?"

"That would be me, if the label I picked up in old Tokyo is still circulating."

Zozulya half-turned. "So it would. You're quick."

"Didn't want to keep the lady waiting." The approaching man shrugged. "I'll take it from here, Woodpecker. Thanks."

Zozulya cast a roguish wink at Kang and departed, leaving her alone with the second man. "Well," said the latter, "here's Roland Schuhart at your service."

"Is that your name now? I suppose it's less generic than the old one."

"So it is," Schuhart agreed. "C'mon, we'd better not stand around in the open."

He set off towards the sheds at the landward end of the dock, and Kang followed. Seeing Schuhart nearly crippled like this hurt her more than she expected, especially given his past record: he'd already been shot in the forearm and cut by flying shrapnel when the Chinese officer first met him, and the man had shrugged off a buckshot wound to the leg and a slash across the face not long after. In the interval since their last encounter, however, he'd somehow lost an eye and a fingertip, been shot through the palm of his left hand and evidently taken so much leg damage that he couldn't walk without artificial support. Maybe the colonel was better off not knowing what other scars might be hidden under his clothes... And yet he limped along, looking downright bizarre with his dented Stahlhelm and his broomhandle Mauser and his Thompson submachine gun, as if none of this bothered him in the least.

"Schuhart," Kang asked on impulse, pronouncing the unaccustomed name hesitantly, "why the Guomindang look?"

"You would ask." Schuhart sounded amused. "Anyone else would be saying, 'Dude, you a Nazi gangster or what?' ...Actually, it was pretty random. The steel pot's blocked a few pistol rounds already and a couple of the kids are training with my regular rifle just now."

"And the box cannon?"

"Dug it out in celebration of our reunion." Schuhart patted the old Mauser in its wooden case. "Besides, it seemed fitting given the circumstances." Turning a corner, the pair came to a parked motorcycle half-track. "Here we go," he sighed, easing himself into the wide seat at the rear.

Kang carefully sat beside him. "What is this thing?"

"Kettenkrad," the one-eyed man explained. "Airborne light tractor made in Germany back in the forties. The garage holding our primary trucks took a direct hit, so we rolled out this relic as a stopgap."

It was just the kind of thing Schuhart would do, the colonel thought. "Where did you get it?"

"Well, about fifteen years ago some people out in Estonia found a Soviet tank at the bottom of a peat lake, perfectly preserved and in working order. That got folks thinking about what else might be out there, and some divers started combing the swamps. Last year they found a whole pile of stuff, probably dumped by a retreating Wehrmacht company late in the war. The team hauled everything up, started restoration and ran out of money... Some asshole seized the lot when they went bankrupt, wanted to scrap it all. I got wind of this, made an offer and won everything. I thought we could loan the collection to a museum or rent it to film crews or something, but now there's a new war on – so much for Plan A." The man shook his head. "But you didn't come out here just to hear me yammer about my antiquarian kleptomania... So, how'd you end up working with the sky eyes?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Kang admitted. "When did you join Novaya Tula?"

"I didn't. Woodpecker and the others work for me now." Schuhart laid the Thompson across his lap. "Novaya Tula was a good outfit, but it didn't survive Third Impact and our brave new world order. All I could do was buy up the fragments... It's been a worthwhile investment, I think."

"I see..." That accounted for the submarine and all the Russians. "Then you, too, are trading in arms."

The reply was as soft as it was brief. "Yeah."

"Why?" Kang frowned. "You used to be so..."

"Idealistic?" There was a wry laugh. "Look what it did for me."

Sensing that he didn't want to talk about that, the colonel adjusted her line of inquiry. "What are you doing here?"

"It was a convenient place to do business until a few days ago," Schuhart answered matter-of-factly. "We were lucky enough to be outside the center of the bombing, but who knows where things will go from here?" He glanced at his companion. "You know you're the first official of any kind to visit since then? Where's the army? The PAP? Why is your government letting the sky eyes run the relief effort?"

"The situation in the mainland is... very bad right now."

"You mean China's turning back into a basket case." Kang flinched at the other's bluntness, even as she agreed with the sentiment. "Seele was covering up more corruption and incompetence than anyone thought possible." Schuhart brought the submachine gun to his shoulder, sighting in on a hypothetical enemy. "Next thing we know, it'll be the warlord years all over again. Guess I really did dress for the occasion."

"That isn't funny."

"It wasn't supposed to be." There was a long sigh. "What exactly has been going on at your end of this mess?" When Kang looked like she wanted to protest, he wagged a finger. "Now, now, Colonel. You're going to go back and tell them all about me, so it's only fair. You share your story and I'll share mine."

If it had been anyone else sitting in his place, Kang would have refused. "My superiors put me on the welcoming committee as the token military figure," she recounted grudgingly. "I must have made a good impression on Group Commander Renaril, because she asked me to stay on as her adviser."

"I hear a little feminine charm goes a long way with our new overlords," Schuhart remarked.

"I didn't bother with flattery," Kang corrected. "I gave her an honest evaluation."

"Uh-huh," said Schuhart. "And this was the day before yesterday? Around the time of that RPG attack in Shenzhen, right?"

"We were in the building when it hit," the soldier confirmed. "Somehow nobody was actually injured."

"That's what the BBC said. What about yesterday, why didn't Beijing do anything?"

"A gross failure to communicate, or so I've been told. I didn't get the full story until I flew up to the Arume command ship and cornered Renaril... Together we managed to get a rescue operation going, but it was probably too little and too late." Kang bowed her head. "I've been working nearly nonstop since then. I only wish I had known sooner."

"Hm..." Schuhart mused. "What kind of person is this Renaril?"

"She's a complete novice," the woman opined. "Timid, indecisive and fresh out of training with no prior experience."

"So the sky eyes put this rookie in charge of overseeing the most populous nation on the planet and on her second day in office she's already blowing up one of its greatest cities... Nice work, I must say."

"Perhaps not. She told me the bombing was carried out by the Arume office for Japanese affairs, in her name but without her knowledge. Either way, she's issued an order prohibiting further use of special weapons."

"Doesn't do us much good now," said Schuhart philosophically. "And you're still helping her?"

Kang nodded reluctantly. "For all her faults, Renaril at least cares about the people. She's someone I can work with."

"Ah... Well, go on."

"The other branch justified the attack by claiming that the Japanese gave them intelligence pointing to Uighur insurgents here in Hong Kong, though they haven't shared any of their sources. Available data in orbit wasn't enough to keep working from, so today I came down to Yuen Long to inspect conditions on the ground. I didn't realize you were here until Metford Lee gave me your number... That's all I know."

"It's enough." Schuhart pushed himself to his feet and faced her. "The plot thickens."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll start from the beginning." The cyclops rested the Thompson on his shoulder. "The botched attack in Shenzhen was the first whiff of trouble – it didn't take a PhD to know someone wanted to spoil the party. We figured letting it go on would only bring us trouble, so I had some of the crew make a sweep of likely hideouts in the coastal ruins... They found a cache, sure enough: Egyptian guns and a bunch of papers in Japanese."

"Japanese?"

The man nodded. "Hold on to that... We were planning to make another sweep the next day, but the bombing prevented us. The sky eyes managed to take out all the civic support centers and sent the majority of the survivors stampeding north: obviously trying to deal with the trapped and wounded took priority... The thing is, somebody fired another RPG at one of those gosta carriers during the opening dispersal."

Kang had omitted mention of that event from her account in hopes of gauging Schuhart's veracity. "Someone other than your... employees," she prompted.

"Bingo. At the time we were too busy to do more than send out a few patrols... I'm not much of an acrobat in this condition, of course, so I pulled Kettenkrad duty: once we'd gotten a bunch of survivors together, I used a trailer to evacuate them upland in stages. During one of those runs, I came across some renegade gosta... They wanted a home and I needed all the extra hands I could get, so taking them along seemed like a good idea."

"You picked them up just like that?"

Schuhart cocked his head. "Haven't you read Who are the Arume? It was right on the money about their kind."

Of course, Kang thought. He would know about it. "What happened after that?"

"Things got hairy, to tell the truth. I was driving back with the girls in the trailer when an Arume flier strafed their sisters in the hills and came after us... I didn't actually see any sky eyes, but the ship unloaded a squad of collaborator troops." He put a hand on his hip, his voice turning indignant. "After beating me up, they decided to shoot the kids and I right there and torch the Kettenkrad in the bargain. We'd have been toast if one of my teams hadn't sniped the bastards."

"What about the landing craft?"

"It tried to take off, so we hit it with an eighty-four millimeter. Damned flimsy thing practically turned to confetti." Schuhart raised an eyebrow. "Surely you've heard all this from the aliens?"

"A little," Kang hedged. "As I said, intelligence up there wasn't sufficient."

"In more ways that one," Schuhart quipped darkly. "I thought maybe we'd finally get some peace, but no – I took the girls indoors and rustled up some food for them, and then pow! A rocket hit the building and the next thing I knew, I was going CQB against a three-man suicide strike... Anyhow, we settled their hash pretty fast and went after the other six. None of 'em could fight worth shit, but we didn't get any alive." He didn't sound as though he much regretted the fact. "Since then we've been following our routine: restoring basic power and water supplies, looking for survivors, patrolling for looters and generally trying to maintain stability." The man held up his weapon and ran a finger down the barrel's cooling fins. "The attackers were Japanese nationals with more Egyptian hardware plus one Chinese RPG."

"Japanese," Kang repeated. "You're sure?"

"We have positive ID on two – leg-breakers for the Great Sun Society. Still working on the rest, but they sure as hell ain't Uighur... So you can see why I find your revelation about the instigators of the bombing to be of great interest."

Kang didn't beat around the bush. "I'm too tired to play the intrigue game," she said flatly. "You think there's a connection."

"Well... This is strictly conjecture, mind you, but it seems to me that we might be looking at a failed false-flag operation." Schuhart sat down again. "The Arume showed up looking all friendly and helpful, but reading even two pages of that little expose shows what bullshit that act was. Now China's in a bad way and that makes it an inviting target, but the sky eyes appointed someone green as a lime to oversee affairs here – why?"

"Because her superiors never intended for her to remain in that position..?"

"Exactly. My guess is that Renaril was supposed to die in that first RPG attack, or at least be too wounded to continue her duties. The powers on high would be free to replace her, blame it on the fictional insurgents and roll right in, wouldn't they? It'd be Mukden two-point-oh!"

A mass of dread was steadily growing in Kang's belly. "It would."

"But that didn't work and Renaril came out unscathed – time to ramp up the menace of the 'enemy' and hit them decisively."

"But... why bomb the whole city? Even the other Arume I've spoken to thought it was too much for the supposed threat level."

"That's true," Schuhart admitted. "I suppose it might be that the conspirators wanted to make sure there wasn't enough left for anyone to prove that the insurgents never existed, but I think it's more likely that there was a miscommunication or that somebody simply got carried away. The rocket attack against the gosta carrier would have been prearranged to justify the bombardment."

It still wasn't making perfect sense to Kang. "Then why would the fake insurgents attack you as well?"

"Because we got in the way," said Schuhart simply. "We were on the tail of the hit team – if we'd uncovered something conclusive and spread it around, that'd have been the end of their scam... And then we shot down an Arume craft: they wouldn't want any organized resistance at ground zero, so we had to go. At the very least, an attack could have slowed us down long enough for the plotters to come up with a better plan... Since the Society is involved, however, it's also possible that their thugs went rogue and were merely trying to retaliate for the whipping we gave them back in the Tokyo Limited-Intervention Zone. Those psychos know how to carry a grudge."

The colonel took a deep breath. "If this is true, who is responsible?"

"The Society, obviously, and the Arumic Japan branch. I don't know how far up the chain of command it might extend. I suspect the Ibuki zaibatsu is also involved, since they control the money and connections which the Society depends on. They have the requisite ambition, too, and word from my Nihon contacts is that they're snuggling right up to the sky eyes."

"Ibuki... As in Maya and Takao?"

"Yeah," said Schuhart sadly. "The only good apples in a rotten barrel. You know one of their cousins is a real latter-day National Socialist?"

"I vaguely remember hearing about it."

"That's Chokai," Schuhart went on, "and his brother Atago is a bloodthirsty pervert. What's worse is that the family is still grooming them to be the next leaders." A look of disgust came over his face. "I should have killed those little freaks when I had the chance."

"Those two as the next leaders of the family conglomerate?" The Chinese woman winced. "Seriously?"

"Let's hope that's as far as their elders' desires extend. The current prime minister is an old friend of the family, and some of the rumors I've heard... Nah, we've got more important problems. How are things between you and Renaril now? Does she trust you?"

"Maybe too much," Kang conceded. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that keeping her alive and in her place is probably better than whatever the other side had planned. Can you cover her back?"

"I can try, but what about you? What do you intend?"

"I'm out of the world-saving business," Schuhart grunted, "and I'm busy enough just holding things together here. Don't expect me to be able to come flying to your rescue this time, however much I might want to... Right now it looks pretty clear to me that the Arume are going to come after us again – unless you can work some miracles with Renaril, nobody will be playing by Hague rules."

The inference made Kang nauseous. "I'll do what I can," she replied warily.

"Only bite off what you can chew," the man admonished. "Don't go out of your way for me, especially if it threatens your other duties. Your first loyalty should lie with the people, not me. Didn't you always tell me that was the ultimate responsibility of a true communist?"

"How can you say that!?" Kang bolted to her feet, the mounting frustration and resentment boiling over. "How can you sit there and tell me to abandon you after you saved my career, saved my life, tried to help me win the woman I loved – "

"And failed," Schuhart interjected flatly.

"That isn't the point!" the colonel cried. "Do you realize that you might be asking me to stand by and watch you die? That I might even have to lead troops against you?"

Schuhart shrugged. "Well, at least I'd be up against someone competent and honorable. Nice change from the usual suspects."

Kang's head bowed in acquiescence of her second defeat. "I thought we were friends..."

"We are." Suddenly Schuhart was on his feet, his arms around her. "You don't owe me anything, Colonel, so don't throw your own future away for a nobody."

Kang had to crane her neck to meet his one eye, her nose full of the scents of sweat and gunpowder. "What are you talking about?"

"You can see I'm a wreck." The man released her and stepped back. "And arms dealers have never ranked high on any moral score. My days as a pretty cool guy are over, not that I ever qualified."

"But – "

"You ever seen one of those roleplaying games where there's a merchant character who can always be found somewhere on the current map square? That's the new me." Schuhart nodded towards the dock. "Sorry, but I've got to get back to work now if there's nothing else you urgently need. You know what you have to do, yeah?"

So that was it. The interview was over. "I understand," Kang answered quietly, turning away. "I'll go."

As she began to walk, Schuhart's voice came after her. "Hey... For what it's worth, I'm really sorry I couldn't do more about Miss Zheng."

"It's all right," the colonel replied. "If she's happy with that man, it's all right." Realizing this might be her last chance, she took another deep breath. "S-Schuhart..."

"Hm?"

"What makes you think you can fight the Arume?"

When she looked back, Schuhart was grinning. She'd only ever seen that expression twice before, and it had immediately preceded massive bloodshed on both occasions.

"What makes you think we can't?"

"Okay," Nereus bellowed, "give it a little more!"

Richardson had been able to hear the engine revving from a warehouse away, and up close it sounded loud even with her fingers jammed into her ears. Nereus was crouched over the long, angular snout of the vehicle which housed the engine, barking instructions to a man named Vyacheslav who sat at the controls and adjusted the noise level. A sideways look informed the gosta that none of the other girls present appreciated the racket any more than she.

"Hold it steady!" The silver-haired man jumped down from his perch. "Low gear forwards!"

There was a metallic grinding as the machine emerged from the hangar and came out under the cloudy sky. It was a boxy contraption with wheels at the front and tracks behind like the offspring of a tank and a truck – a bigger, badder Kettenkrad. There were numbers stenciled on its mottled side, along with a white-outlined black cross identical to those on painted on the diminutive tractor. Richardson didn't understand why, but the presence of that symbol seemed to bother the men around her: Nereus in particular kept shooting ugly looks at it.

The half-track made a wide turn until it was parallel to the front of the warehouse, then went quiet. "All done," Vyacheslav called as he climbed out. "I do clearance check with granatomyot, yes?"

"Go ahead," Nereus answered shortly, resuming his tinkering. "Where's that goddamn hose clamp..?"

Richardson gingerly uncovered her ears as the buzz of a second engine resolved into the familiar clatter of the Kettenkrad. She felt strangely gladdened by the sight of Schuhart riding up the street, openly smiling by the time he came to a stop. "Uncle Roland!"

"Nuts," the man chuckled, raising his goggles. "I thought I could slip right past you." He turned his attention to Nereus. "How's it going?"

"I'd rather replace the carburetor outright, but it should hold together as-is if we don't push it too hard." The older man paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Even the Czechs' diesel knockoff would be better than this gas-guzzling scow... For the record, your plan's insane."

"Sure it is," said the cyclops affably. "But we pulled it off before, didn't we? If you know where we can find something else that can tow artillery and carry troops offroad, don't keep it a secret."

"I know, I know," Nereus grumbled. "Anyway, what did you get from Kang?"

"A spade."

"A spade?"

Schuhart began to sing as he swung his legs over the Kettenkrad's side. "Ev'ry-body ought to have a spade... Ev'ry-body ought to have a digging tool... Ev'ry-body ought to have an entrenching tool... To fend off all the Krauts!"

"You're awful," Nereus snorted. "Was it worth the time or wasn't it?"

Schuhart didn't answer until he'd finished fitting his leg brace. "I learned some interesting things, if she was telling me the truth... We'll have to convene a staff meeting."

"Coffee break?"

"Er..." Azanael wasn't actually drinking coffee, but the concept described her current activity well enough. "I suppose."

"Great," said Elaqebil cheerfully. "Mind if I join you?"

"If you want to."

"So..." The other Arume settled against the bulkhead beside the drink dispenser. "How's work?"

"Mundane," Azanael said curtly. "At least the hours are regular." She threw a look at Elaqebil. "Is that Coca-Cola?"

"Mm-hm."

"How do you stand it?"

"Acquired taste, I guess." Elaqebil took a sip. "You look tense. Somebody barrel roll you?"

Azanael rolled her eyes at the mention of the old training embarrassment. "You'll never forget that, will you?"

"Not so long as I live," the other cackled. "But seriously, I can see something's bothering you."

"I ran into one of my cousins," the pilot confessed. "I hadn't seen her since before... Before things went bad. She's in a ground control squad now."

"Is she big and sexy like you?"

"..."

"That's too bad... How was she?"

"She pretended not to know me. I didn't ask."

"Tch." Elaqebil's lip curled. "Some manners she's got."

"I know."

"Don't let it get to you." Elaqebil suddenly perked up. "Hey, doesn't your shift end soon?"

"Not for a while," Azanael corrected. "Why?"

"It's movie night in my section. We're screening Casablanca, if that interests you at all."

"I'll think about – gaaah!"

The tall Arume's drink went flying as Renaril whipped past her and latched onto her friend. "Elaqebil," the group commander cried, "help!"

"Uh... Wuh..."

"It's Kang!" The smallest of the three Arume was plainly on the verge of hysterics. "They're torturing her!"