The suppression squads kept rotating their fire at the rhythm Swen had ordered. He watched the defenders behind the stone outcrop and saw the effect immediately. The gunfire forced them to react instead of think ahead.

One mercenary started to rise from behind the rock. He brought his crossbow halfway up and shifted into the exposed position just as the next suppression squad fired.

The shot did not hit him.

It struck the stone eighteen inches left of his shoulder. Rock fragments burst outward. The mercenary dropped before the debris reached him.

"Right gap, right gap!" one mercenary shouted. "Soren, move your ass!"

Another man broke toward the outcrop’s right flank. The third squad in the firing rotation discharged before he completed the crossing. The shot landed four feet short, but the intent mattered more than the accuracy.

The crack of the rifle split his movement apart.

He instinctively crouched in the open, caught between positions and unable to support either side.

Aldwin’s voice carried from the right end of the advance.

"Thirty feet. Push in."

Swen closed his left fist and raised it overhead.

The suppression squads stopped firing at once.

The stone outcrop fell silent. No incoming rounds struck the mercenaries’ cover.

One mercenary recognized the change immediately and tried to exploit it. He rose fast, aiming his crossbow while the advance squads were charged against their position.

He had maybe two seconds.

A pistol shot from the nearest advance squad answered him from thirty feet away. The mercenary slammed back against the stone and slid down the rock face.

The remaining mercenaries were unsure how to react.

The advance squads had already closed to fifteen feet and were converging from three directions.

One mercenary fired before the distance made the shot useless. The bolt clipped the outside of a soldier’s left shoulder and drew blood, but failed to stop the advance.

The final exchange around the stone happened fast and at close range.

The mercenaries started to be mauled under pistol fire delivered nearly point-blank. At that distance, there was no mistaking the damage.

Another man tried to swing his sword, but the cramped space ruined the strike before it fully formed. A saber thrust slipped inside his guard and ended the attempt.

One more mercenary looked at the advancing soldiers, judged the range, then threw down his weapon and raised both hands.

"On your knees," the nearest soldier barked. "Now."

The mercenary complied immediately.

Godmar approached from the left flank. He hit the prisoner in the back of his head with the pistol’s stock, knocking him out.

"Smart man."

There was no mockery in the words.

The rest of the mercenaries in the camp dispersed after the stone position was overwhelmed. One soldier moved toward the supply depot and marked the nearest crate with chalk for the logistics convoy. Swen confirmed the setup to Aldwin with a brief instruction.

The company regrouped north of the stone outcrop immediately after. Swen took position at the front as they resumed movement.

The ground between the camp and the next position stretched across two hundred yards of cracked autumn earth. Swen considered the schedule as they advanced.

It was tricky.

If any survivor from the oasis had fled north instead of east or west, they would already have reached the next camp before the soldiers finished here. If the next camp maintained lookouts on the high ground between positions, they would also have heard rifle fire from both engagements.

Swen ran through the possibilities once, then left them there. The warning had either spread already or it had not. Thinking on it further would change nothing.

Godmar moved up beside him on the left.

"Next lot’s heard us by now. Whole damned valley probably has."

"Then they’ll be waiting."

"And we’ll pay for every yard."

Swen gave a slight nod.

"We push."

The last camp near the oasis became visible from the ridge about a hundred yards out. Swen watched the perimeter before the company entered effective range.

The mercenaries were spread across the camp’s front instead of clustering behind a single strongpoint. Two elevated positions overlooked the area with crossbow coverage. To the left sat a shallow depression that could serve as a fallback point if the perimeter collapsed.

Whoever organized the defense had understood the terrain and adapted quickly once the sounds of fighting reached him.

The mercenary captain’s voice carried clearly from the ridge as Swen halted the company.

"Hold the right! Nobody drifts! Crossbows left rise, sight the center lane!"

His voice cut across the perimeter.

"And don’t waste a damn shot! Forty yards!"

He was demanding fire discipline under pressure. Swen noted what that implied. The captain trusted both his men and the ground they held.

Swen assigned the suppression squads near the ridge, then restarted the firing rotation.

One squad fired.

Four seconds passed.

The next squad fired.

Another four seconds.

The rotation targeted the elevated defensive points in sequence. The rhythm matched the stone camp operation, but the problem here was different. The perimeter was spread out instead of concentrated around one piece of cover.

The captain’s orders continued throughout the firing cycle, and his men obeyed because the commands stayed practical and timely.

"East side, shift right! They’re crawlin’ your blind!"

Moments later.

"Stay outta the depression! Nobody drops unless I say so!"

The perimeter began weakening at the right flank first. The suppression squads had the clearest range there, and the crossbowman covering that section had started trying to predict the rifle rotation.

He rose during what he believed was a safe gap.

His prediction against the previous squad was correct. What he failed to account for was the next squad shortening its cycle slightly during this rotation.

Their shot slammed into the embankment six inches from his position.

Dirt and stone burst into his face, disrupting the draw before he could settle the shot. His bolt flew wide.

The advance squads closed to forty feet from the perimeter’s right side when the captain recognized the problem and ordered a consolidation.

"Right side, fall in! Center! Move!"

The order came too late to preserve the flank.

Pulling inward surrendered the right edge entirely. The advance squads penetrated that side before the center mercenaries fully regrouped with the retreating men.

Gunfire spread through the ridge, blood was drawn as the mercenaries were slaughtered.

The captain withdrew toward the depression with eight surviving men.

The depression offered protection on four sides. One of those sides now had a company squad on the higher ground above it.

The captain looked up, took in the trap, and reached his conclusion to surrender.

The soldiers didn’t let him, though. They fired before the mercenaries could even react to the situation, much less drop their weapons.

Swen reached the edge of the depression and looked over stench of blood and mauled bodies inside. He was indifferent to their deaths. Good men or evil men, the Badlands cared not for character.

Nearby, a soldier marked the camp two supply crates with chalk for retrieval.

Swen swept through the captured camp and started to think over their schedule.

Intelligence reports placed four to seven camps farther into the foothills, spread north, northwest, and northeast. Any survivors from the oasis and the six camps were already somewhere in the broken terrain between the company and those remaining positions.

If those survivors kept moving, and if the remaining camps were still occupied, then every position would receive warning before the entire company advance could reach it.

Two separate contingents could move through broken foothill terrain faster than word could spread on foot.

Swen called Aldwin and Godmar forward.

"Aldwin, squads one through five, northwest. Drive anything you find farther north."

Aldwin nodded once and immediately began calling out squad assignments.

"Godmar, squads six through ten, northeast. Same orders."

Godmar looked toward the northwestern hills first, then the ridges to the northeast. When he looked back at Swen, the idea had already clicked into place.

"Heh. Squeezin’ the hills shut."

"Anyone still running gets caught between us."

Swen gave a single nod.

Godmar spat into the dirt and turned toward his squads.

The company split into two advancing forces and moved into opposite sections of the autumn foothills.

Both forces pushed north toward the remaining camps still waiting in the region, where the morning’s fighting had not yet arrived.