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However, beyond The Wall, and behind it for that matter, was a different story. Originally The Wall was intended to be the centerpiece of a defense structure that stretched down past Clayton and filled the entire Rabun Gap, which, technically, began behind the primary structure about two miles.
Early landings and different priorities had meant that much of the preparations had not been carried through. None of the defenses in front of the wall remained; succeeding waves of attempted assaults had swept them all away and there had been no replacement. Furthermore, the defenses behind The Wall that were supposed to extend in depth for miles, had either never been completed or, in many cases, had been obliterated by the corps units as they jostled for space.
On a tour that had finally included the relatively low-priority Rabun Gap region, the current commander of the Corps of Engineers had gotten one look at the defenses and nearly died of shock. Defenses three or four times this quality had been repeatedly gained and lost around Harrisburg and Roanoke so she knew damned well that these could be taken by a sufficiently determined Posleen assault.
She first considered calling in John Keene. The civilian engineer was another special trouble-shooter that the COE kept in reserve. But not only was he deeply and inventively involved in rebuilding the Roanoke defenses, the local corps commander was General Bernard of 29th Infantry infamy.
It was by the order of General Bernard that the Posleen who had settled in to feast on the corpse of Fredericksburg in the first landing were induced, instead, to come swarming out and attack the forces gathering to their north and south. General Bernard, ignoring orders to the contrary, had ordered his division artillery to fire on a concentration of Posleen that had no apparent interest in continuing in a hostile ma
John Keene had successfully designed and implemented an engineering defense plan for Richmond to the south, literally at the last minute. The plan was implemented in opposition to the one suggested by General Bernard and had to be rushed through due to the poor tactical judgement of the general.
The corps to the north of Fredericksburg, however, through a combination of bad political decisions, poor training and an apparent computer hacking by renegade forces, was overrun almost to a man. This left only Engineer Officer Basic Course student Second Lieutenant William Ryan, fellow classmates and other engineer trainees pulled from Advanced Individual Training to harass and delay the Posleen. With a little help from the USS Missouri they had fought their way back to the Lincoln Memorial, where they basically got tired of ru
Which brought to the COE Commander's mind Lieutenant Ryan, now Major Ryan, who would be the perfect party to put in an operational position. Especially if the major was put in place with a very quiet word to the prickly Bernard that if he didn't give the major all the support he needed then get the hell out of the way, a certain court-martial board could be reconvened to "discuss" his failures in Virginia.
Thus Major Ryan found himself explaining to administrative units that they could either move their facilities back from the wall or to the other side of it and he really didn't care which.
And pulling Field Grade Staff Duty Officer.
* * *
Jake winced. He didn't know who this turkey was, but given that he was pulling staff duty in a nice dry headquarters it was pretty unlikely that he knew which end of a rifle a bullet came out of much less how vitally important getting fire to a cut off patrol was.
"Major, this is Sergeant Major Jake Mosovich, Fleet Strike Recon. And we've got us a situation here."
Ryan tugged at the lock of hair that always seemed to dangle on his forehead and tried to remember why the name sounded familiar. "Go ahead, Sergeant Major, you have my full and undivided attention."
* * *
Jake dialed up the magnification on the night vision system and sighed. "Sir, we are surrounded by Posleen. Our position is southeast of Lake Seed and the Posleen have apparently figured this out and are patrolling all the surrounding roads. Our objective was an overlook of Clarkesville, but at this point that is impossible. If we can cut our way out alive we'll be lucky. Are you with me, sir?"
* * *
Ryan shivered and remembered the mingled shame and relief when his own platoon was permitted to leave the Occoquan defense. He knew, only too well, how Mosovich was feeling at the moment. Or maybe not: in Ryan's case he had always had the option of retreating.
He glanced at the artillery availability board and blanched. The sergeant major was not going to like what he was about to tell him; it was likely that he wouldn't believe it either.
"Sergeant Major, I've got some really shitty news. The fighting up north has had CONARC calling for available artillery from all over. We've lost both additional heavy artillery regiments in the area, the additional special arty we were supposed to get was diverted to Chattanooga and Asheville and half our corps arty is gone. We don't have any of the heavy, special guns at all, except one SheVa and they don't have any useful ammunition. And you're out of range for anything else except one five-five. And half the one five-five is tasked to emergency protective fire. I can't get that released without the corps commander's permission."
Ryan could hear the sergeant major swearing softly over the open circuit and something about it made the memory click. "Sergeant Major Mosovich? From Richmond?"
There was silence over the circuit for a moment. "Yeah, that's me. Why do you know about that, sir?"
Ryan stroked his mustache. He had grown it as an affectation back when he thought he was a little too young to suddenly be a captain. Then, after a while, he noticed that people tended to avoid looking him in the eye. Oh, not the combat types, but around corps headquarters you didn't run into many of them. But for the rest . . . they tended to look away. Some of them said he didn't look like he was still in his twenties.
But he kept the mustache.
"I know Mr. Keene. Pretty well." He'd studied under Keene's tutelage in Chattanooga during the rebuild and they had become more than acquaintances; Keene was one of the ones who could look the young major in the eye. And Keene had some good stories about Richmond. Better than Ryan's, which mostly ended "and then we ran away again" or "and then he died."
"Better than Barwhon, Sergeant Major," Ryan added, realizing now, how he could get the NCO to work with him. If they worked together rather than at cross-purposes, which would just happen if Mosovich assumed he was dealing with an arm-chair commando, they could, maybe, get the LRRP team out.
"Better than Barwhon but not as good as Occoquan," the major added. "I had the Missouri on my side there." Ryan paused again and clicked icons, reconfiguring data. "You now have everything I have the authority to release, Sergeant Major. I'm going to send a ru
* * *
Mosovich smiled as his AID showed all the available artillery in the corps transferring to his control, but he suppressed his chuckle. "So that was you, sir. Yeah, I wish the Mo was in range. Or any of the railguns. But what we've got will have to do."
* * *
Ryan pointed at the nearest senior NCO and towards the corps commander's quarters. The headquarters was on a hillock in the middle of the Gap and had once housed the Rabun School. Now the dormitories were officers' quarters and the headmaster's home was the corps commander's quarters. Generally, the commander did not prefer to be disturbed in the middle of the night, but one look at the major was enough to send the staff sergeant scampering. And he wasn't going to return unless he had the release of the artillery.