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General Bernard was also aware of this thin ice. And thus he did not immediately hop to the defense of his artillery commander. "One of the things we are here to decide is how much support they need. And I released the FPF batteries."
"We probably won't need final protective fire right away, sir," Colonel Jorgensen said. "They seem to be expending most of their attention on these lurps. But if they follow them all the way back to the lines, assuming they make it, then we might have problems."
"The indications so far are that this group is sitting on its hands," Colonel McDonald pointed out. The corps intelligence officer was well aware that those were, technically, "his" lurps out there. What was even more important was that if he lost them it was unlikely he'd get a new set with the same capabilities any time soon. He had some "home grown" teams, but they didn't have the experience or the equipment of the long-service Special Operations types that had been transferred to Fleet Strike. Which would mean local patrols with standard equipment. Including regular radios. And since the Posleen seemed to be learning to track in on radios pretty quick, that would mean teams with not much in the way of communications ability.
So for a variety of reasons, not excepting the milk of human kindness and the interests of one soldier looking out for another, he didn't intend to let these two jerks hang Mosovich out on a limb.
"We have plenty of movement in the sensor areas," McDonald noted. "They're getting ready to move out of the sensor coverage. But even if they do we can get good fire on the approaching forces. It's only ammo; bullets not bodies, remember?"
"It's only ammo to you, George," Colonel Jorgensen said. "But it's my boys and girls feeding the guns. It's my cost for replacing tubes. I've got to explain the trunion damage and, for that matter, the ammunition expenditure. And we've got a globe sitting out there, pla
"Colonel, I've seen your ammo dumps," Major Ryan said. "You've got enough ammo on hand for five days of continuous fire, especially with all the units we lost to Tenth Army. Five . . . days. Trust me, those defenses will not last five days if the Posleen come at us in force. Five hours will be about right. So you've got plenty of ammo on hand in that case."
"I think we'll give a better accounting of ourselves than that," Bernard said. The wear and tear on the artillery would just mean he got new tubes sooner and this damned major would undoubtedly make some sort of a report of his "fighting spirit." "But we do have a sufficiency on hand. Fire them up, Red. Take every call for fire, fire on every sensor target. Major Ryan has been on this from both ends; let him handle the interface and you give him all the support he asks for."
"Thank you, sir," Ryan said. "I have been on their end and I do know what it's like." He paused for a moment. "And I'll admit this is way beyond my level, but I think you need to call Army and ask for your arty back, sir. I'll double that through COE if you like. Those Posties aren't acting right."
"I concur on that analysis, sir," Colonel McDonald said. "Just watching them on the sensors you can see they are staying way more coordinated. Look at this group over by Seed. Or the one that has been pi
General Bernard paused and rubbed his almost totally bald head. That was a horse of a different color. He'd protested having the artillery pulled away when it occurred. If he called Army now and complained about nebulous reports of a Posleen globe force that was acting "fu
"Colonel, I want a full intelligence analysis," he answered. "Get a good count, or a good estimate. Detail all the ways they have been acting strangely and what the possible increase in combat effectiveness is from that. If it looks like a significantly increased threat, I'll take that to Army. I'll take it to CONARC if I have to. But I need more than 'these Posties are acting fu
"I wish we had a Mike Force," McDonald said softly. "I hate just leaving the lurps to their own devices."
"I've heard about Mosovich before," Ryan said, tugging at his forelock. "He's not a guy to go down easy."
* * *
"I'm really getting too old for this shit," Mosovich growled as they darted across the road.
"Not that again," Mueller gasped. He'd given up trying to support one end of the Barrett and was carrying it on his own, along with his own weapons, equipment and ammunition, leaving the heavy ammunition pack to Nichols. Making it down the steep slope to the road had been . . . interesting. "You just got a rejuv; you're under warranty for another century."
" 'It's not the years, honey, it's the mileage,' " Jake answered. This field was thankfully untorn and he led the team across it at a lope towards the woodline. "I'm just getting really tired of trying to make it to woodlines before somebody starts shooting at me."
"Try flying on the outside of a saucer into the middle of a Posleen swarm," Nichols gasped, sweat pouring down his face.
"Well, it looks like we cheated death again," Mueller answered, as they made it into the woods. This area, however, was a fairly open decidous slope, leaf covered but with little undergrowth. They were open to being spotted until they made it halfway up the hill where there was a large thicket of rhododendron. The slope was reasonably gentle and Nichols took the Barrett back.
"Thanks, man," Nichols said in an embarrassed tone. "This is the first time in my life somebody's had to hump some of my gear."
Mueller just nodded. He and Nichols were of similar build, heavy, stocky bodies with a lot of muscle on a heavy-boned frame. But he overtopped Nichols by almost eight inches. "Don't sweat it," Mueller said and looked over his shoulder. "Oh, shit."
To the southeast there was a small valley that was surmounted by another saddle slightly higher than the one they had just crossed. It was out of sight of the one the humans had used and the road ran through it, bent to the left to pass down the valley then up through "their" saddle.
Another Posleen force was coming over the far hill, but this was no patrol. At its head was a God King saucer and although it was clear the humans hadn't been spotted yet, the saucer was headed straight for "their" hill.
They had left a laser retransmitter on the far hill, but there was no time for Sister Mary to hunt for it with an ante
But the operative word was "eventually." Right here and right now it was the only way to call for fire. And if they didn't get some metal on target, and jack quick, that was all they would have wrote for Mama Mosovich's son.
The God King was a good four hundred meters away and there was only one. The sensors of the saucers had been shown to be able to "see" humans at that range, but could not "discriminate" them if they were not firing. If the Posleen company had been headed down the hill the team would simply have dropped and hoped they weren't spotted. But it was clear from the movement of the force that it knew where the humans were and was headed over there to wipe them out.