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«Yes, Mr. President,» answered the High Commander, back straight. «I have always carried out my orders, even when I had clear and strong objections. It is my duty.»
«Very well, here is my direction. The United States Ground Forces will defend against Posleen incursions further into northern Virginia. Such defense will take place south of the Potomac, certainly, and all available forces will initially defend in and around the area of Quantico Marine Base. Most of the corps is stationed there so they won't have far to go.
«I will put that in writing and I will address the nation and both read the written directive and present both views as evenly as possible, giving full credence to both views. But in the end, it is my responsibility to call the hard shots. Are you clear on this directive?»
«Yes, sir. What is the primary intent? Beyond the defense of northern Virginia. What is the main target for defense?»
«Don't lose an inch of ground is the idea. The last place to lose is Arlington, but defense is to be as forward as possible given constraints of movement and time. Initial defense by the majority of Tenth Corps will be south of the Occoquan. You are clear on that?»
«Yes, sir, in and around Quantico.»
«Very well, General. Winston Churchill once said 'war is too important an endeavor to leave to generals.' I don't completely agree but I do agree that there is a reason for civilian control of the military and it is for reasons like this, not to prevent coups. Good luck, and may God be with us all, especially those poor souls in Fredericksburg.»
As the general left the Situation Room, the President glanced at the secretary of defense, who was still fuming. «General Taylor doesn't think much of Forward Defense, does he?»
«No, Mister President, he doesn't,» agreed the secretary, with gritted teeth. «I can't believe you let him say those things to you.»
Edwards nodded his head. «He's become quite popular. There has been a noticeable turnaround among the forces under his direction.»
«So,» said the secretary, «what you're saying is we have to put up with his bullshit?»
The President leaned back and gripped the arms of his chair firmly. «What I'm saying is, your friend Olds had better know what he's talking about.»
CHAPTER 40
Fredericksburg, VA, United States of America, Sol III
0614 EDT October 10th, 2004 ad
Another wash of firecrackers slammed into the hill as a barrage of sixteen-inch cluster rounds landed and Tommy picked up his AIW. «Okay, let's go over it one more time.»
«We fire a few shots from here,» said Wendy, tiredly, «then move back to Alesia's.»
«You go first, let me take any of the fire that might come through when we run. I'd trade armor with you, but I don't think you could move fast enough in this.»
«Okay.» She looked at the shoulder-to-knee padding. «I don't think so either. At Alesia's, we set off the claymore in here.» She pointed to the mine set up in the middle of the room pointed at the door. «When they attack Alesia's, we go to the basement, get in the tu
«Okay. Good enough.» A burst of fire came from the machine gun post catty-corner across the intersection from their position. A hail of flechette rounds answered the fire and the wall of the building sparkled in ricochets. The M-60 coughed once, twice, then was permanently stilled by a hypervelocity missile. The kinetic explosion sent a shock wave across the street that hammered the breath from their lungs.
«Oh, God,» Wendy coughed on the cloud of dust blasted into the street, pulling the rifle into her shoulder, and placing it on the pillow.
«It's time to dance,» whispered Tommy and snuggled the AIW into his shoulder. He switched to grenade launcher and took up slack on the trigger.
When the first rank of the Posleen phalanx entered the intersection of Charles and George Streets it was met with a storm of fire. Wendy fired a series of laser-aimed bursts that were surprisingly accurate for a begi
A tungsten and steel rain of flechettes hammered the openings through which the two youths were firing and ricochets bounded though the stone-walled room. Tommy dove back and down in a roll away from the windows.
«Move!» he yelled and bounded towards the back door of the shop, forgetting to cover Wendy with his armor.
Wendy lurched towards the door, then stumbled as her right leg refused to support her weight. She looked down and, in the gathering daylight, saw a dark stain on her calf from a ricocheted flechette. She used the Galil to prop herself up and limped towards the door.
Tommy leaned out the door, rifle training left and right as he slid in another clip of grenades. «Come on!» he shouted above the din of fire on either side. When she did not bypass him he looked back in the room. The problem was obvious.
«I can make it,» Wendy cried, stumbling on half-seen furniture as tears of pain clouded her eyes and the world swam in gray.
He looked at her and for a moment time seemed to stand still as his mind raced over alternatives. His hand twitched once towards the Desert Eagle at his side, then in sudden decision he hefted the assault rifle in his left hand and swept her over his right shoulder. As pounding started on the front door of the shop, he sprinted for Alesia's Antiques.
* * *
Bill Worth coughed wrackingly in the rubble of his demolished book shop, the cough sending fresh waves of formless pain through his body. The heavy wooden rafter pi
However, whatever John Paul Sartre might have thought, one did not always choose one's destiny. If this was how he was to meet the latest visitors to Fredericksburg, so be it.
From a vague feeling of weakness and the spreading stain under his chest, he suspected he might not be greeting the visitors in person anyway. To take his mind off the vagaries of fate, he tried to sight-inventory what was left. A book by his right hand caught his eye and he tugged it over despite the discomfort it caused somewhere in his nether regions. Not immediately recognizing the binding, he opened it to the title page and was pleasantly surprised by his unexpected discovery.
«My goodness,» he whispered, «an original Copperfield! Wherever have you been hiding, young man?»
Thus, the words of Dickens served to soothe him, like the gentle friends that they were, until grayness overwhelmed his vision.
* * *
«Tommy?» said Wendy, coming out of her daze into darkness as a hand clamped over her mouth.
«Shh!» he whispered fiercely. Somewhere above there was loud crashing. A thump through the ground told a story of distant detonations.
She recognized the smell of the tu
«I injected it with a local,» he whispered. «You were in shock, that's all.»