Fuhito stepped back directly into a Steiner soldier marching alongside the column. The Lyran, the leutnant in charge of the guard detachment, shoved Fuhito away with a rough oath and said something in German. Fuhito only caught the name Kurita and the ill-tempered tone, but he recognized it as an insult.

A poke in the back from one of his companions reminded him to act cowed. He snatched a glance backward and caught a slight head shake from Ninyu Kerai. Though Fuhito generally found Kerai disturbing in some obscure way, he knew the man was right now. Needing cheap labor, the Lyrans had called on the populace with threats and empty promises to get it. Fuhito and the other disguised Kurita soldiers were supposed to be part of this group of people rounded up from the countryside by the Steiner invaders. To continue to hide safely among the laborers, they had to avoid suspicion. If one of the Lyrans got nosy and searched them, all would be lost. The patriots who had thrown in with the Kuritans for this mission would be shot as spies. The soldiers, even though they wore their DCMS tans under their rain ponchos, would likely receive the same reward.

"Move it, you malingerers! I don't plan to spend my night with you wetbacks," the Lyran leutnant snarled, his temper as foul as the weather. The officer shoved his laser carbine into the back of one of the locals, urging the frightened woman forward. "Come on, come on! The sooner you get to the compound, the sooner you get out of the rain."

The ragged line of miserable men and women trudged on.

Finally, they reached the gate to the Lyran supply compound at Cochus. It was a good site, ideally positioned to support the advance of the Third Lyran Guards against the capital. Supplies could be landed safely on Forsiar and ferried across to the city piers. From the coastal city, the Lyrans would send the supplies out by truck along the main highway, by monotrack to railheads at strategic locations, or by military carrier to almost anywhere else.

Huddling in rain, the Kurita soldiers and the conscript labor among whom they hid waited for their masters. The footsoldiers gathered under the leaky canopy that served as a gatehouse to conduct their business in relative comfort. Fuhito heard the compound guards complaining about the tardiness of their relief. He listened in surprise as the guard against whom he had stumbled suggested that the complainers take matters into their own hands and go kick their replacements' butts out of the barracks.

Fuhito found the concept of abandoning one's duty post because of personal discomfort to be treasonous, unthinkable. But these Lyrans were soft, always thinking of their own comfort. And they were cocky, too assured of being safe so far behind the lines. Only a pair of Strikers, buttoned up against the weather, stood sentry. Apparently, their crews were unwilling to get wet simply to watch over a bunch of submissive laborers. Soft.

The guards returned to lead the conscripts to the shacks where they would spend the night. As the group left the gate, Fuhito looked back to see the men on duty at the gate take the leutnant's suggestion. En masse, the guards left their post and headed for the main barracks. Fuhito wondered if the Steiner MechWarriors were equally lax.

When they reached the shacks, the Lyrans separated their charges into groups and assigned them to huts. When only one group remained, the officer dismissed his men, urging them to warm up on some schnapps for him. The last group was almost completely composed of Combine soldiers, and Fuhito felt a sense of impending danger as the leutnant stood by the door, flashing a light into each person's face as he or she passed into the dimly lit interior of the hut.

"Oh, ho," the soldier exclaimed as he pulled one of the hunched figures from the line. He tugged the poncho's rainhood down, exposing the woman's head. Fuhito held his breath when he saw that it was Tomoe Sakade.

"Very nice. Maybe I was a bit hasty in deciding who I would spend the night with. There are quite a few privileges for those who are friendly," the leutnant told her, slipping a hand under her poncho.

In the faint gleam from the open door, Fuhito saw the Lyran's eyes go wide. He surmised that what the leutnant found in his groping for soft flesh was the hard metal of Tomoe's subgun instead. The man took a step back, but not fast enough to escape Tomoe's flashing hand. Her stiffened fingers drove into the man's throat. He collapsed with a broken trachea, choking on his own blood.

All the Kuritans froze, waiting to see if they were discovered. There was no sign that anyone had heard. The rest of their guards continued noisily toward the barracks. On the far side of the camp, a lone guard 'Mech prowled, its searchlight gleaming as it swept the perimeter.

"No more time to lose," Tomoe announced. "Kerai! Tetsuhara! Get your team together. You two, drag this garbage into the hut. Let's move!"

The Kuritans tossed off their ponchos. Fuhito counted heads, and found that some of his team had already been herded into the shacks. Quickly, he gathered them, twenty soldiers and twice that number of brave locals eager to do their bit for the Dragon. At the head of his thirty raiders, he headed for the Lyran barracks. Tomoe and Ninyu had already vanished into the night, gone to their own tasks.

Fuhito dispersed his men to cover all sides of the building, careful to assure that they were not visible should some Lyran glance out a window. He found himself a good vantage point overlooking the main avenue of the camp and waited.

Ten minutes later, twin explosions announced the success of Tomoe's team as the Strikers succumbed to limpet mines.

First of the Steiner troops out of the barracks were the negligent gate guards. Fuhito straightened from his crouch and fired his KA-23, cutting them down before they had gone twenty meters. Around him, spurts of flame appeared as his squad opened up. Bullets pocked the surface of the building, seeking and finding flesh whenever Lyrans attempted to leave the barracks.

Short-spaced crashes filled the air, the massive footsteps of the approaching Steiner guard 'Mech. The beat of those footsteps slowed as the machine neared the barracks court. Then it appeared from around the corner, striding slowly forward as the flames from the burning Strikers underlit the twelve-meter 'Mech, giving it the aspect of a hellish demon. Fuhito recognized the machine as a thirty-five ton Fire-starter,a dangerous anti-personnel BattleMech. The light 'Mech stalked across the court, searching. Its head-mounted searchlight probed the shadows. One of the recruits panicked, dropping his weapon and running away from the Fire-starter.The 'Mech's torso swiveled to face the man, and heavy slugs from the torso-mounted Deprus machine guns shredded him.

Fuhito stood motionless as the Firestarterpassed his position. Knowing too well that his motion might be visible on the pilot's 360-scanner, he threw a flare ahead of the machine and to its left.

The 'Mech blasted the spot where the flare burned as soon as the magnesium ignited. After a moment, the Firestarter'sguns fell silent and it stepped into the alley behind the barracks, seeking prey.

Watching its passage, Fuhito noticed a dark lump on a radio tower near which the machine had stopped. The shape moved, resolving itself into that of a clinging man, arm poised for a throw. A sputtering object arced across the space to impact at the side of the Firestarter'shead.

The bomb burst in a shower of flames, its jellied petrochem plastering the 'Mech's head. The heat and gummy liquid blinded the Firestarter'ssensors and apparently disoriented the pilot. Stumbling into a wall, the 'Mech knocked itself off-balance and fell.