Страница 71 из 169
CHAPTER 33
Richmond, VA, United States of America, Sol III
2025 EDT October 9th, 2004 ad
«The engineering companies of the Thirty-Sixth, Forty-Ninth and Hundred and Fifth Mechanized Divisions are on the way via I-95,» said the Twelfth Corps operations officer, looking at a flimsy. «The remainder of the divisions are going to take a back way across the James and blow it behind them. That will be it for Fort A.P. Hill. The dependents are already gone.»
The temporary headquarters that Twelfth Corps had set up in the First Union building was coming down. With the Posleen on the north side of the James, the area was going to get untenable fast. Already the sound of folding chairs and collapsing equipment could be heard in the background.
The meeting was taking place in a gorgeous fourth-floor conference room. The wonderful view to the east was about to be surrendered to the infantry. Present were a skeleton staff, the commander, some operations and intelligence officers, the major local commanders and the ubiquitous Special Forces representatives.
«My boys are ready to roll,» said Colonel Walter Abrahamson, commander of the First Squadron Twenty-Second Cavalry (Virginians), the armored cavalry unit assigned to the Richmond local area. The commander was as tall and broad as one of his armored behemoths, but his hooked nose and generally saturnine look bespoke his desert heritage. With his current grim and implacable expression he looked like a biblical plague preparing to spring forth upon the enemies of his people. A gold Star of David earring, strictly nonregulation, sparkled on his left earlobe.
«Unfortunately,» commented the corps commander, «we don't have a mission for you.»
«Then let us go perform our traditional role.» The Cav commander smiled confidently. «Eyes and ears.»
«He's got a point,» said the corps intelligence officer. «We're effectively blind. All we know is that all communication into the Fredericksburg area is cut off. All the wireless communications are being jammed and we lost the last phone trunk about twenty minutes ago. There were a few Spotsylvania County sheriff's deputies that made it out, but they've only been able to tell us where the Posleen aren't. We still don't know exactly where they are. We need to find out.»
«Sir,» said Sergeant Mueller, «they could do more than that. We can hit back.»
«Oh?» commented an Intel/Pla
«Yes, ma'am, if you put them out in the open. But I went out on 95 north and south last month, just nosing around. Coming down from Fredericksburg it's pretty darn flat but there are a few areas where, with improvement, they could fire hull-down. Get them hull-down, fire at max engagement range, which with those twenty-five millimeters is, what two thousand meters?» he asked the Cav commander.
«About that,» agreed the Cav officer with a nod at the NCO.
«Call for a volley of fire and boogie out,» continued Mueller. «It will require some engineering support but just a couple of bulldozers. That way we both keep the enemy in view and slow them down.»
«You'll take casualties,» said the corps commander, turning to the battalion commander, «and the few Posleen you kill will be a tithe of a tithe of their main force. Are you for it?»
«Yes, sir,» said the cavalry officer with understated enthusiasm. «That is a straightforward Cav mission. My boys are cocked, locked and ready to roll.»
«Very well. Sergeant Mueller, you and Master Sergeant Ersin head up the road,» said the corps commander. «Get with the corps engineer before you leave. Tell him to assign you some civilian construction equipment. Make a list.»
«Yes, sir,» said Ersin quietly.
«Colonel Abrahamson,» said the corps commander, «we have a battery of mobile one hundred fifty-five millimeter available. They're the new Reaver model. Take it with you. As more come on-line, we'll send the mobile units out to support you; the others we'll be digging into Mosby and Libby Hills. Have your fire-support chief coordinate through corps artillery, since you're effectively cut off from the rest of the Twenty-Second.»
The Lieutenant General smiled grimly. «Last, Colonel, I hope I don't have to say this. You are not to become decisively engaged, not for any reason. Understand?»
«With upwards of four million Posleen?» The cavalry colonel chuckled dryly, with a rub of his thick, black hair. «General, my name's Walter Jacob Abrahamson, not George Armstrong Custer.» The infamous cavalry general had been both blond and balding.
«And remind your men not to try to enter abandoned homes and businesses,» the corps commander commented, sadly. «It looks like the 'Scorched Earth' program is going to get an early test.»
* * *
Parker Williamson closed the front door, blotting out the sight of the Posleen lander that had crushed the Hawkes's house at the end of Bourne Street. He had already closed the curtains on the unpleasant view out the back. He turned to face his wife, down whose face tears cascaded.
«Well,» he sighed, «I guess we drew the short straw.»
She nodded, unable to speak, as their oldest daughter entered the room.
«Is it go
«No, sweetie.» Jan Williamson gathered her composure, picking up the two-year-old as he toddled into the room, still crying from the painful sonic booms. «Not that we'll notice.»
Parker locked the door and turned to a red panel by the standard home security system. The door swung open to reveal a key pad. A yellow light flashed above the pad and a beeping tone started.
«Federally Authorized Home Destruction System Mod One is activated. Posleen emanations detected, predestruct sequencing authorized. Enter code for command authorization.»
Parker punched in a code and hit set.
«State your name.»
«Parker Williamson.»
«Parker Williamson, are you at this moment in your right mind?» the box asked, begi
«Emergency bypass authorization.»
«Please key in second authorization as required by federal law.»
Jan walked over and keyed in a second sequence.
«What is your name?»
«Jan Williamson.»
«Jan Williamson, do you concur in setting the Federally Authorized Home Destruction System Mod One into function? Be aware that the system is monitoring Posleen emanations in the near area.»
«I do.»
The panel chuckled for a moment, checking that their voice prints were correct and then the light went red. At the same time the home security system turned on.
«Intruder detection system activated, autodestruct sequence activated.» In the basement of the house, two chemicals, harmless when separated, began to mix. «Destruct sequence will auto-activate upon unauthorized entry . . . may God protect and keep you.»
«Come on, honey,» said Jan Williamson, picking up their daughter in a big hug, «let's go read Peter Rabbit . . .»
* * *
Lieutenant General Arkady Simosin, Tenth Corps Commander, the corps tasked with the defense of Northern Virginia and Maryland, humorously called «The Army of the Potomac,» looked at the giant blotch of red on his southern flank and wiped his mouth.
«Tell the Twenty-Ninth to pull his armored battalions back,» he told his G-3, pointing at the tactical display. «They're too far forward. Empty Belvoir and Quantico, get them headed north of the Potomac. That's going to be our defensive line.»
«Yes, sir. Sir, I called General Bernard. He said that he would only take that order from you directly and that he intended to drive into the Posleen flank to pull them off of Fredericksburg.»