Earth Afire (The First Formic War)

“Soldiers, eh? Come to fight the Formics.”
    “We’ve come to help as much as we can,” said Wit.
    “You think China needs help? You think China isn’t strong enough?”
    “From what I’ve seen, no country is strong enough. Not the U.S., not any nation in Europe, not Russia, no one. We all must help.”
    “Help is what I do best,” said Shoshang. “What are you looking for?”
    “Armored transports. Off-roaders. All-terrain. Enough to carry forty men and supplies. And they need to be airtight.”
    “War machines?” Shoshang frowned and shrugged. “Sorry to disappoint you, Captain, but I’m not licensed to sell that kind of vehicle. What you see on my lot is all I have.” He gestured to the vehicles behind him. “Big utility trucks and dozers for commercial contractors. Perhaps you would like to test-drive one of those?”
    Wit wasn’t buying the innocent-civilian act or the weak-old-man act either. He had busted enough drug lords and gunrunners to know that it was normally the ones who didn’t look the part who were the nastiest.
    “Perhaps this will remind you of some inventory that may have slipped your mind,” said Wit, tapping his wrist pad to the old man’s.
    Shoshang read the amount on his wrist, then smiled. “Ah yes. Now that I think about it, I might have what you’re looking for.”
    He escorted them to a tall, rusted metal wall that encircled a junkyard at the back of the lot. The wall was topped with concertina wire and looked like it could withstand a small army. Shoshang waved his hand through the holobox beside the gate, and from somewhere on the other side a crank turned, and a chain pulled, and the heavy metal door swung open.
    “A lot of security for a pile of junk,” said Wit.
    Shoshang smiled.
    They walked through the junkyard—weaving through a labyrinth of scrap iron, crushed cars, and long-dead industrial equipment. When they reached a warehouse at the center of the maze, Shoshang stopped and faced them. Wit saw several armed men perched atop the warehouse roof and a few others among the piles of junk around them. Wit wasn’t impressed. The men weren’t professionally trained. They were all carrying themselves the wrong way, standing in the wrong places, brandishing their weapons like amateurs. Wit was beginning to think this had been a waste of time.
    Then Shoshang ordered one of the thugs to open the warehouse, and Wit saw that the trip wasn’t a total loss after all. There were five armored Rhinos inside—which were big, six-wheeled ATVs built for the Chinese military. They were much faster than light tanks and ideal for quick strikes and maneuvering. Shoshang had painted them a deep green to cover the army’s insignia, and welders had attached additional armored plates and modifications to make them look like original vehicles instead of stolen government property, which is what they obviously were.
    “If I drive those through a military checkpoint,” said Wit, “I’m liable to get arrested. The army doesn’t take kindly to thieves.”
    Shoshang looked offended. “These aren’t stolen, Captain O’Toole. They were surplus, purchased legally on the open market. I have all the papers in order.”
    “Falsified papers,” said Wit. “There was no surplus of Rhinos. The manufacturer was bought out by Juke Limited before production of the initial fleet was complete. Then Juke renegotiated with the Chinese and changed the design.”
    Shoshang smiled. “I see you are a student of military commerce, Captain O’Toole.”
    “I’m a student of a lot of things.”
    Shoshang scratched at his cheek then sighed. “Very well. I’m willing to drop the price because of the legality issue.” He said the word like it annoyed him.
    “What about fuel?”
    “I am feeling generous today,” said Shoshang. “I will give you all five vehicles and enough batteries and fuel cells for a year of constant use.”
    “For how much?”
    Shoshang told him. It was ten times what the vehicles were worth, even on the black market.
    “We’ll take them,” said Wit.
    Shoshang looked surprised. He had expected a brutal negotiation, an argument even. But Wit had neither the time nor the inclination. Strategos auditors would likely sniff out Shoshang and seize the money back anyway. It wasn’t Wit’s concern.
    “We also need supplies,” said Wit. “I’m told you’re a man who can acquire anything.”
    “I’m a man of many talents, yes. What else do you