Read Tour of Duty: Stories and Provocation for Free Online Page A

the chill water, the same water that tore painfully at the wound in his side.
    Now. Their Guns were slung, they were knee-deep in water, and they couldn’t move as quickly as he did. He clambered up the bank, unheard over the water, and sprang, muscles releasing like a tensed spring.
    He was on Gunner, and clawed his throat out. Six! Sergeant dropped his end of the Litter, and Cynd tumbled into the water to drown, next to the worms of red leaking up from Gunner’s wounds. Seven! Cap turned, and saw Sergeant raising his Gun. He ducked and leapt, using Gunner as a base and felt the burn of a Bullet through his shoulder. It spoiled his attack, but he clawed Sergeant savagely with his right paw, tearing his arm and chest. He tried to force him under water, and Sergeant fired again with his other hand. He missed.
    Cap sprang lightly back to his feet in the rocky shallows, sending agony through his side and shoulder. Sergeant was scrabbling for purchase, and wasn’t looking as Cap pounced again. He shoved the man’s head under water in the deeper pool, and leaned on it to hold it there. Gurgling sounds came, and he knew death would follow soon. He ignored the pain in his ribs, and the new pains as his Enemy cut him with a Knife. He shrieked, but pressed lower, closing with the blade until it could cut no more.
    He fed on the pain, and pressed the attack. He could feel his foe weakening, and knew it would not be long now. Exhaustion was taking a toll, though, and he lacked the strength to attack again. Blood loss was making him weak, and spots before his eyes told him he was fading. But his Enemy was faring no better. He slipped under the water again, and emerged coughing, before falling back once more. Cap crept closer, begging strength from his tortured body.
    They clashed again, Cap desperate to finish this, his Enemy desperate to survive. As they wrestled, he felt death hovering nearby. Or was that the sound of a Vertol?
    It was a Vertol. Cap snarled in outraged frustration. The Gunners aboard wouldn’t shoot yet, but he had to leave or die. He drew back, dragging the limp, almost dead Enemy with him, keeping the man between him and potential Bullets. He slipped under water and headed for a moss-spattered rock, needing to get behind cover. Bullets like a deadly hail stirred the water, and he sank as he’d been taught. There was the cut in the bank, and there was the rocky shelf he’d used as a path on his way in.
    Another burst shredded the growth as he fled. He burned with rage at not killing Sergeant. He could not dwell on that now. He had to escape to make his Datadump and survive to fight again. Let the Enemy keep Sergeant and Cynd alive. They could tell the others how the fight would go. Not only the soldiers, but the human settlers and their dogs and even the Leopards would fight.
    Cap waited under a featherfern, eyes narrowed to cold slits, and held motionless as the Vertol passed over, then again, then a third time. They knew he was there, but couldn’t see him. Cap had played this game before, even though it wasn’t a game now. Despite their tools, people couldn’t find Leopards. Not one time in a hundred.
    The Vertol flew over again, even lower, then the sound of it echoed away across the hills. In moments, the normal sounds of the northern forest returned, and Cap raised himself, all cuts and aches and bruises, to end his mission. It was nearly sunset, and he still had to hurry.

    High in a tree, Capstick spent some time recovering from the exertion, feeling his heart thump, sensing his blood boil, hearing his thoughts roar. His injured shoulder was an agony that he would have to accept for now. At Home, it would need Surgery. His ribs might, also, and the wounds to his skin and tail. Then there was the pain within. He was weak, ill, and hot, but he would rest to recoup his strength and press on. The human doctors could heal him, as they had before. People were good at such things. His thoughts were