Страница 115 из 169
«Romeo, this is Mo, over.»
«Mo, we are being relieved. I'm turning you over to . . .» He glanced at the captain.
«Lima Niner Two!» shouted the captain.
«Lima Niner Two, over!»
«Roger, I accept Lima Niner Two to this net, over.»
«Well, thanks Mo, this is Romeo Six Seven, out.»
«Good luck, Romeo, this is Juliet, out,» responded the unknown female on the other end of the circuit.
With a smile, the tired lieutenant carefully slid out of the trench and down the back side of the hill to where the remains of his platoon was gathering.
CHAPTER 49
Richmond, VA, United States of America, Sol III
1320 EDT October 10th, 2004 ad
Time was on the side of Washington. The direct line distance between D.C. and Fredericksburg was practically the same as the distance between Fredericksburg and Richmond. But the dogleg around the Occoquan Reservoir and the resistance of the Ninth and Tenth Corps ensured that the first city to be hit by the spreading incursion would be Richmond.
And in Richmond they were just about done laying in the drinks.
* * *
«Won't they spot that?» asked the specialist who had been assigned as Mueller's driver.
«Maybe,» said Mueller, affixing the last co
«But we'll be able to fire them up at least once with artillery. If they don't notice them, or do and don't take them out, we'll be able to use them for long-range artillery fire and surveillance during the whole battle.»
* * *
«Sergeant Ersin?»
«Yeah?» Ersin turned from supervising the installation of a field of mines along the northwest rim. The querying individual was one of the junior engineers assigned to the area. The kid didn't even have his professional license. He was a junior flunky at one of the local engineering firms sent out as a last bit of support. But at least he knew he was wet behind the ears and wasn't afraid to ask questions. He was accompanied by a tall, beefy civilian. Something about the florid face and casual clothes spelled «salesman» to Ersin.
«This guy is trying to explain something to me . . .» the engineer started to say.
«Hi there, Sergeant . . . Ersin, was it?» asked the civilian, brushing aside the engineer and taking Ersin's hand in a hearty shake. «Tolert, Bob Tolert, I represent Advanced Materials Manufacturing here in Richmond . . .»
«If it's about the Golden Girls . . .»
«No, no, different company entirely. We have a line of . . .»
«We're a little busy here . . .»
« . . . military supplies that I . . .»
« . . . and I really don't have time . . .»
« . . . think would be just perfect for . . .»
«You're not listening to a thing I'm saying, are you?» said Ersin in a dangerously calm voice. The scars on the side of his neck and face were flushed.
«Oh, yes, I am, sir; yes, I am,» said the salesman, smiling broadly in reply. «You have the most important job in the entire United States right now, protecting our fair city, and these little caltrops my company makes are just the thing to help.» The smile was wide and patently insincere. The salesman was obviously figuring on a hard sell.
Ersin snapped forward like a snake until his scarred Eurasian face was inches from the civilian's. One hand snatched the collar of the Dockers shirt and dragged the salesman the last inch. «What did you say?»
Bob Tolert had dealt with difficult customers in his time. However, he'd never dealt with ones who had an instant ability to remove him from the face of the earth. He considered his next words carefully.
«We're under contract to produce something called caltrops for the mountain defenses,» he croaked. «I don't even know what they are. One of our foremen told me you might want to buy a few.»
«Neither did I,» said the civilian engineer. The junior engineer was waving his hands around as if to try to suggest that maybe killing a civilian would not be a good idea.
«How many can we get?» asked Ersin, his smile turning feral.
«He brought some dump trucks with him,» offered the engineer.
«Can you let go now?» Tolert croaked. «Please?»
* * *
The Posleen scout company trotted in good order down the broad highway. Their God King followed them pensively despite the rearing buildings of the great prize plain before him. His was the fifth company from the oolt'ondar to be in the lead. Between the ambushes of the tenar and the ballistic weapons of the thresh the horde had lost oolt after oolt. He was determined to last longer than the rest.
To avoid the ambushes that had plagued his fellows, he had a scout well out in the lead of his oolt. The oolt'os was a superior individual, it could nearly talk. The Kessentai's sole eson'antai had been born from their coupling and he trusted the oolt'os to respond effectively to mildly complex problems. If any of the oolt'os would spot a problem, it would be that one.
So he froze his tenar then slid to the side when the point let out a surprised cry. However, the cry was not one of fear or anger and the point almost immediately turned and ran towards him.
In the oolt'os's hand was a strange device. A metal stake, dirt dribbling to the ground u
The God King let out a cry like that of his scout and practically snatched the golden trinket from its hand. He patted the excited semimoron on the back and gave it bits of thresh from his own hand in approval.
A trailing scoutmaster slid his tenar forward, wondering what the excitement was about.
The God King held the implement overhead. «Pure heavy metal,» he crowed, waving it back and forth.
«No,» shouted the newcomer his crest standing straight up in excitement. «Is there more?»
«Let us find out,» he cried and waved to his oolt. «Forward, find more! Follow the road!»
* * *
«They're at the first Babe,» said Mosovich, adjusting the sixty-power spotting scope. He smiled faintly at the silent pantomime in the distance. «It looks like they took it hook, line and sinker.»
«We ought to fire 'em up,» said Ersin sourly, leaning back on the head of the hotel-room bed. From the suite in the Marriott they had a clear view of the advancing host. He took a bite out of the dehydrated peaches from his MRE and wrinkled his face like a rat. «That's what ca
«Suck 'em in, General,» said John Keene to the air. «Don't shoot till you see the yellow of their eyes.» With the defenses completed, he found himself flapping around at loose ends. After considering his options he decided that the best place to be would be with the SF team. Among other things they were the only people in Richmond he knew weren't gu
He now lay on his back on the floor, nursing the first beer he'd had in two days. He took another sip of the astringent brew and smacked his lips. «Let 'em get in the sack.»
«Yeah,» said Mueller, assembling a sandwich on the table. He carefully laid out a sliver of ham, layered it with lettuce, then another layer of ham, lettuce, pastrami . . . «We want as many of 'em as possible to reach Schockoe Bottom.»
«Fine,» snorted Ersin cynically. «Be complicated. All that complicated means is more to go wrong.»
«It looks good so far,» said Keene, defensively. He sat up and drained the bottle to the dregs. «They're going for it,» he finished with a belch and tossed the bottle in the wastecan.