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"Oh, my yes," Ryan nodded after a moment. "We really don't want them linking up."

"We might be able to hold them off," Anderson said dubiously. "We'll try anyway."

Ryan looked up at the sky and rubbed his chin in thought. "I . . . have a thought."

"Yes, sir?" the captain said.

"We have a SheVa, and it has been reloaded."

"Oh, ow," Anderson replied. "Does it have area denial rounds?"

"Yep. You still have commo with Eastern command?"

"Yep," Anderson said. "Heck, we've even got video."

"Good," Ryan said with a grin. "I want to see General Keeton's face."

* * *

General Keeton nodded in the jerky ma

"Major Anderson, still got your finger in the dike I see."

"Yes, sir," the captain replied. "And it's captain, sir."

"Not anymore," the general said. "Who are these other gentlemen?"

"Sir, I'm Major William Ryan, Corps of Engineers. I was the corps Assistant Corps Engineer."

"And I'm Major Robert Mitchell, Commander of SheVa Nine."

"That the one with the great big rabbit painted on it?"

"Yes, sir," the major replied with a slight sigh.

"Indications are that you've been blasting the shit out of the whole valley for the last couple of days, Major," the general said severely. "Care to comment on that?"

"Yes, sir," the major replied. He suspected he was just about to get an ass-chewing which, all things considered, didn't seem fair. On the other hand, the military was like that sometimes. "It was, in my position as responsible for air defense of the corps, necessary operations of war."

"Get any?" Keeton asked.

"Sir, our records will indicate over the last two days we have eight confirmed kills of Lampreys and C-Decs and we estimate an additional nine to ten that were too damaged to continue. Those are all on camera. Frankly, I think that we might have stepped on twice that, but that will require an evaluation after we have retaken the valley."

The general considered that for a moment and then nodded his head. "So, what you're telling me is that, as usual, Bun-Bun's been kicking ass and not even bothering to take names?"

Mitchell paused and blinked. "Yes, sir."

"I'm going to do something here, and if you fuck with Anderson because of it I'll have your ass, understand?"

"Yes, sir?" Mitchell replied.

"You're a light colonel. Everybody in your crew is bumped one grade. We'll talk about the medals later."

"Yes, sir," the colonel said with a slightly choked tone. "Thank you."

"Don't get all teary on me, you realize you're probably fucked. There's no way to get that big bastard out of that valley. And according to all the intel I have you have about a billion Posleen about to butt-fuck you."

"That's what we're here to discuss, sir," Major Ryan interjected.

"Ryan, you're that hotshot who blew up the Lincoln Memorial, right?"

"Yes, sir," Ryan replied.

"You in charge of the bridge now?"

"Yes, sir, about that . . ."

"Don't blow it up until we're done talking, I'm not sure I want it down."

"Yes, sir," Ryan paused. "I . . . I think we're in agreement here, sir. Sir, we have a plan of action we need to discuss with you."

"Go ahead."

"Sir, you're aware that Balsam Gap has been taken?"





"I've got a shitload of forces on the way," Keeton replied. "Unfortunately, getting them down to you will require Balsam Gap. And they're mostly trained in positional defense. Which means they're go

"Sir," Major Anderson replied. "I've started an evacuation of the forces in the pocket, using secondary routes. But we think we can clear the Gap."

"Go ahead."

"Sir," Colonel Mitchell chimed in. "We've mated up with the reload teams for two SheVas . . ."

"I've got multiple reloads and the best SheVa repair battalion in the U.S. on the way," Keeton interjected. "Don't get Bun-Bun blown up and ruin all that work."

"I appreciate that, sir," Colonel Mitchell replied. "But it's going to take a while for them to mate up with us. The nearest SheVa repair batt was in Indiana last time I checked."

"Not if you can retake Balsam; they're both in Waynesville. I got them moving the minute that I heard about the Posleen taking Rabun Gap."

"Oh."

"Sir," Major Ryan said again. "Bun-Bun has four area denial rounds available in his reload team, two from his reloads and two from SheVa Fourteen."

"Yeah," the general said slowly. "Tell me the rest."

"I have a short company of Abrams and about the same of Bradleys," Anderson interjected. "I've also got a couple of batteries of artillery; the Brads and arty were from a recon unit that tacked down the Long Wall. The Bradleys are short on bodies, but I have plenty of infantry perso

"Sir, our plan is for Bun-Bun to approach Balsam Gap using cover to prevent taking fire," Ryan continued. "Simultaneously, our mechanized forces will take a hide position near, but not too near, Balsam Gap. Bun-Bun will fire one air-burst into the Gap whereupon the artillery will follow it with airburst and penetrator shells while the mechanized force performs a ground assault. Bun-Bun will then move forward to provide cover fire from the C-Dec if it has survived the assault."

"Classic prepared assault," the general said. "With one little fillip."

"Yes, sir," the three of them chorused.

Keeton laughed and shook his head. "You haven't had time to practice that much. Okay, I can't give you a friggin' release. So I'm going to call Jack Horner and the two of us are going to . . . counsel National Command Authority."

"Yes, sir," Colonel Mitchell said.

"This may take a little while; the President really hates nuclear weapons. In the meantime you get your assault forces together," the general continued. "And get everything you can out of that pocket. I'll get you the release. If I have to send a company of MPs down to sit on the President. Clear?"

"Clear, sir," the colonel said, wondering how serious the general was.

"Sir," Major Ryan said, "it is my intention to move up other roads and render them unusable."

"You're talking about 19 and 441?" the general asked. "After the support groups have passed through?"

"Yes, sir," Ryan said. "But there's no way to do that effectively and still be able to use them on the way back."

"Don't worry about coming back," Keeton said, tapping at his computer for a moment. "23 will be enough for that. Rip them to shit. That's an order. While you're out there, keep an eye out for a company of MetalStorm tanks. We lost contact with them right after we ordered them in. They should be a help if they survived."

"Er . . ." Mitchell said.

"Yes?" Keeton asked. "Did they survive?"

"Sort of, sir," the colonel replied. "Their turrets are lashed on top of Bun-Bun."

"On . . . top?" the general asked. "I suspect there's a story there. Have you put them into operation?"

"No, sir. Not for want of my gu

"I have to ask; where are the chassis?"

"Betty Gap, sir," Ryan replied. "We have them precisely located. They're not going anywhere."

"Let me guess," Keeton said. "You blew them up?"

"Not blew them up, sir," the engineer said.

"Later. I can tell it's bad. Gentlemen, you have your orders. Carry them out. As soon as we've retaken the Gap and Bun-Bun is repaired, I expect you to begin an advance down the valley."

"Yes, sir," Mitchell said.

"General Keeton, out."

* * *

"Madame President," General Horner said. "We now have the situation I discussed."

The President shook her head at the image on her monitor; unless the hookup was badly distorting the image the officer was gray. "General, are you okay?"