by Bill Roberts
I place my elbows on the table and the other battalion commanders and I exchange greetings. The commander for 1st Battalion, 2nd Marines Lieutenant Colonel Marcus D’antoni asks: “How was your leave Shawn?”
“You know, the usual, good beer and pretty women,” I reply.
The artillery battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Navah Stavi, interjects: “What pretty woman would talk to you Shawn?”
The commander of 2nd Battalion, 12th Marines (12th Marines is 2nd Marine Division’s artillery regiment) is known for her sharp wit, but honestly that barb needed more teeth. “That the best you can do Navah?”
“How about …” Navah muses for a moment than continues: “I assume the good beer was how you got the pretty women to talk to you.”
“A little better,” I pause for a moment than continue, “I would have gone with: How the hell do you know what a good beer is or whether or not a woman is pretty.” Not particularly funny, but enough to get some chuckles and keep the mood light.
As we chuckle Colonel James Rainer enters the room. We all stand smoothly to attention and he waves us back to our seats with a ‘Take your seats.’ He proceeds to the head of the table sits and surveys us brusquely. Without preamble he quickly launches into questioning us: “Anyone having problems with meeting the timeline?” We all shake our heads. Wasting no time Rainer fires another question. “Any personnel problems to report?”
Lieutenant Colonel Ahmed Hacham, the commander of 3rd Battalion, 2nd Marines answers: “Sir, we had a couple of Marines get arrested for drunk and disorderly in Dallas. We contacted the magistrate there and she said they would move the court date to happen after our scheduled return.” I thank God I did not have to deal with that mess. Although in the past I had dealt with far worse issues.
The rest of the commanders and I have no such issues and respond accordingly. Rainer launches another question: “Have all of you received the latest intelligence briefing?”
The temperature of the meeting drops perceptibly at this question. This time I answer first: “Yes, Sir. My Deuce drew some … disturbing conclusions.” I look around the table quickly and see serious, but curious faces. This makes it obvious that while they had all received an intel update, their intelligence officers had most likely not come to the same conclusions mine had.
“What exactly?” Although Rainer says this crisply, I get the impression that he is curious as much as anything else. Rainer is a stiff and proper sort, but he does like to engage in thoughtful conversations with his commanders.
“Assuming we are successful during our deployment, Sir,” I respond. “Which, all bravado aside, I expect. My Deuce predicts a commencement of outright hostilities by the Tangul during our deployment.”
The chill in the room becomes palpable. I can confirm by the look on the battalion commander’s faces that their intel officer’s predictions had not been so dire. However, they all have worked with 2nd Heavy Armored in the past and they all respect Captain Sunari’s opinions. Rainer’s face has become a hard mask. He responds: “That is a bold analysis.”
I calmly reply: “She could be wrong, Sir. It has happened before, and she has not worked with issues of this scale in a while. Personally, I think it would be prudent to listen to her. Even if she is wrong it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.”
The commander of 2nd Battalion, 2nd Marines, Lieutenant Colonel Talan Lal breaks his silence. “I believe Captain Sunari may be correct, Sir. The incursion last month proves it. We all know war is coming. The Southern Security Alliance is the only real threat to the Tangul. Their attempt to destabilize us over the last ten years has failed thus far and there are no indications that this will change. While the Elowynn are relatively stagnant and the Ssahar grow very slowly, we have grown rapidly and show no signs of slowing down. They have got to consider us a serious future threat that would best be dealt with now.”
Colonel Rainer scans the table. “I want you all to keep a close hold on these opinions. They disagree with the official Ministry of Defense assessment. As we all know, officially the MoD believes that the Tangul will first try and eliminate one of the unaligned races, to gauge our reaction and increase their assets. Were they to do this, it will be a few more years before they would declare war.” I feel disagreement build up inside me. MoD had good people working for it, but they were far too large with far too many bureaucrats in it to remain flexible to the changing situation on the front. Sunari knew her business … Rainer speaks again interrupting my train of thought. “Understand this. We do not need MoD thinking we are searching for trouble on this deployment.” He pauses for a moment then continues: “That being said. I agree with Colonel Morris. We should prepare, just in case. It just so happens my Deuce and I share your assessment.” He looks at me. “I was hoping to keep it quiet, but Captain Sunari is just too damn good at her job.” He sits even straighter in his chair and looks at all of us slowly. “Does everyone understand?”
We all respond with “Aye Aye, Sir.”
“Good,” he responds. “You all are dismissed. Colonel Morris could you remain for a moment please.”
I maintain my seat while the rest of the commanders file out. After they have left Rainer asks: “I assume, in her usual efficiency, that Captain Sunari briefed everyone on her assessment?”
“Yes, Sir,” I reply.
“I was afraid of that.” Rainer rarely shows emotion, but as he says this he looks pained. “Do you think you can keep a lid on it?”
I hesitate before answering. I do not worry about my Marines telling their families. They know about operational security and the need for caution. But, I was certain they would gossip amongst themselves with fervor about such a provocative topic. Well the proverbial cat is out of the proverbial bag now. “Sir, I believe it is probably all they are talking about.” No sense in trying to soften the blow. “However, I have no reason to believe it will get outside of the battalion anytime soon. I will have a talk with my Marines first thing tomorrow and explain the situation.”
Rainer ponders that for the briefest of moments before replying: “That will have to do. I trust you will handle it as best as can be done.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I say.
“One other thing,” Rainer says. “I am sure you know this, but I have the utmost regard for Captain Sunari. Some day you are going to have to tell me how you have kept her in your command so long.”
I decide the answer is so simple I can answer it now. As I get up and head for the door I say: “Sir, I wish I knew. I just know she has refused promotion every time the intel community tries. I figure if she wants me to know she’ll tell me.”
I get back to my headquarters after my Nineteen Hundred deadline. Consequently the bottom floor is mostly dark. I can hear music and laughter coming from the floors above where the single Marines live. I enter the command deck to find the Officer of the Day sitting at a desk ‘minding the store.’ He stands and salutes as I enter. I return the salute and ask: “Things staying under control up there.” I point to the ceiling as I say this.
The Officer of the Day replies: “So far. I already talked to all the company Duty NCOs,” NCO stands for Non-Commissioned Officer. “If anything starts to get crazy they will call down here. I don’t really expect any trouble.”
“Neither do I. Good Marines around here,” I reply. “I am turning in for the night. I trust you to handle things. Short of Armageddon or worse, the Provost Martial, leave me out of it.”
He smiles and responds: “Not a problem, Sir. Have a good evening.”
I nod and head for my office. I enter and walk through it for the door that leads to my private staircase. I take the stairs up to my rooms on the second floor. As the commander I get a small apartment style living quarters in the headquarters building. Married commanders also get a government provided house on the other side of the base. With no house this apartment is truly my home. No Gove
rnment Issue things in this place either. It is full of leather furniture, oil paintings, and expensive lighting. One of the walls of the living room is nothing but bookshelves, filled almost to overcrowding with all of the paper books I have collected over the years. No sense living in a dungeon. I turn on the Three-D TV, sit down on the couch and start taking off my boots. As I am unlacing my boot I smell perfume: Krasnaya Moskva. What in the hell …
Arms wrap around me from behind and Svetlana whispers in my ear: “I do not want to hear about how foolish this is. I was very careful. War is coming. I cannot bear the thought of not spending these last few nights without you.” She nibbles on my ear.
I turn my head to face her. She kisses me passionately. Whatever protests I might have been able to summon die in the flames of that kiss. Wordlessly I get up from the couch. I pick her up and start carrying her to the bedroom. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me as we walk. If, when, the Tangul declare war six months from now, we will be fighting to save humanity again. The odds of both of us making it through that alive do not bear thinking about. My last thought before passion completely takes over is: Dear God … please let nothing happen to her.
CHAPTER 12
Demonstration
The Sun shines with crystalline purity on the baked earth of Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center Twentynine Palms. For the thousandth time I check the readouts of my Kodiak. Odd. Everything was in the green a minute ago, and for some reason everything is still in the green. I wonder at the nerves that I am feeling. It has been three months since I received my wings. In that time I have really started to master this fantastic war machine. I even managed to beat Lance a few times. I should not feel nervous. I check my display and see Langsdorf’s Kodiak a klick to my left. I suspect that is the reason for my tension. I really, really do not want to let that man down.
We are up in the Rainbow Canyon training area of Twentynine Palms. The Rainbow is composed of hundreds of square kilometers of low, red, rocky hills. In the middle of the Mojave Desert, Twentynine Palms has tons of sand, sunshine, and treacherous terrain. It also lacks water and prying eyes. Simply put, the Rainbow is the perfect place for this demonstration.
We had snuck in aboard heavy lift air transport from Wonderland two nights ago. Every Kodiak, Cougar, and Mobile Combat Suit we can crew had been brought from under the mountain to here. On one of the hills behind us the President and the Joint Chiefs of Staff are watching us. Today we woill demonstrate for them the power of the new weapons wrought with Watcher technology. No big deal. Only the future of the Human Race on the line. I check my readouts again. Hmmm … still green.
The demonstration will, militarily, be very simple. We will attack an unknown enemy through the training area. The enemy will be represented by old tank hulks and silhouettes of infantryman armed with pyrotechnic devices to simulate weapons firing. The Cougars will go first, find the enemy locations, and report them to the rest of the ad hoc task force. After they found the enemy the Kodiaks will assault it and support the MCS’s clearing the enemy positions. What could possibly go wrong? I check the readouts again. Damn, I really have got to stop doing that.
The new TACNET system comes to life. It is Lieutenant Colonel William “Willy” Bean. He is one of the Army pilots in Heavy Armored. For this exercise Colonel Langsdorf had put the two Army pilots in the Cougars. He reports: “Kodiak Six, this is Cougar Six, we have identified an enemy position.” He sends an image and coordinates through TACNET to us and red icons pop up on my display.
“Roger, Cougar,” Langsdorf Replies. “Kodiaks, this is Kodiak Six. Move to the assault position I am sending … now.” Another icon appears on my map, denoting the assault position.
I put my Kodiak into motion. Checking my display I see the six other Kodiaks in the exercise begin moving west. While we pilot our machines across the desert Langsdorf continues: “Green Six, this is Kodiak Six.” Green Six is the call sign for the commander of the infantry in their MCS’s. “Follow in trace of the Kodiaks to the assault position. Once we arrive I will advise as to whether we will envelop from the right or left. Based on the enemy position and terrain I imagine this will be an envelopment from the left.” Langsdorf’s face disappears from TACNET. I love this new communication system. It has far too many bells and whistles, but fundamentally it is going to revolutionize tactical communications.
I concentrate on maintaining my spot in the formation while the Kodiak glides across the ground. I also keep an eye out for any surprise enemies. The exercise control group told us in yesterday’s briefing that they were going to throw everything at us. This will not be a ‘milk run.’ The purpose of this exercise is too important to not allow the observers on the hill behind us to see what we are fully capable of.
While I march forward the Kodiak floats across the ground, thumping its way forward rhythmically. I love the sound of a Kodiak on the march. It is a controlled thunder, beating with the implacable precision of a metronome. It sounds like a war machine should sound like. The sound settles my nerves and builds my confidence. I take a deep breath, let it out slowly and tell my Kodiak: “All right, let’s do this.”
Lance and I make up the right or northern flank of our formation. It will be our job to destroy anything that attacks us from that direction. After we have covered about a klick my vigilance is rewarded. Three pop-up plywood tank silhouettes spring to life and detonate pyrotechnics to simulate firing at us. I hit the transmit button for TACNET and shout: “Contact, right.”
The new controls Lance, Art, and I have worked out really come in handy in situations like this. We have replaced the throttle with another joystick. Movement of the Kodiak is controlled through working the right and left joystick together. Press both forward and the Kodiak went forward. Speed is controlled by the angle of the joystick. Pull one back and push the other forward and you will turn. Push both to the side and you will sidestep. Very efficient and intuitive. Furthermore, with a top hat thumb control on each joystick both weapons can be controlled simultaneously.
I spin the Kodiak to face the ‘tanks.’ I then take off at an angled run to make a more challenging target while I track both arm weapons towards the plywood. My tactical computer uses the sensors to quickly identify and mark the targets in my display. I align the main gun on the left arm with one silhouette and pull the trigger. The weapon spits out a projectile at just over fifty-thousand kilometers an hour and vaporizes the plywood in a flash of light. The crack of the projectile streaking through the air and the boom of the explosion on the target is loud enough to hear for miles and the sound easily penetrates my armored cocoon. The primordial part of my brain revels in the noise. Firing main gun from a Kodiak is better than sex. I smile involuntarily in response as the reticle for the medium gun on my machine’s right arm lines up with another one of the ‘tanks.’ When I fire it three twenty millimeter projectiles spit out at sixteen thousand meters per second. Another target vaporized. Before I can start tracking to the next target it disappears as Lance destroys it with a shot from his main gun. We have identified and destroyed an enemy tank platoon in less than six seconds. I hope the observers are suitably impressed.
Time for TACNET again: “Kodiak Six, this is Kodiak Three One,” my call sign for this exercise. “We have identified and destroyed one enemy tank platoon. No further contact. Recommend we continue to the assault position.”
“Three One this is Six. Nice shooting. Next time save some for the rest of us.” Typical Langsdorf. “All elements continue to the assault position.”
The three remaining klicks to the assault position remain uneventful. The assault position lies behind a small hill. We take up position and await further orders. Langsdorf moves his Kodiak slightly up the hill and pokes his sensors over the top. TACNET fires up shortly afterward: “Guidons, this is Six. We are going to go with a support by fire with the Kodiaks from the hill and envelop with the infantry from the left. Cougar Six, I
want you to follow the infantry and then continue down the Rainbow looking for the next target as they assault through.” We all roger up and Langsdorf continues: “Assault. Assault. Assault.”
The Kodiaks march up to the military crest and we immediately open fire. The three old tank hulks that represent the armor on the objective last about ten seconds before there really is nothing left to shoot at. At this point we all start shooting at the infantry silhouettes with our medium guns. They are in and around a trench dug for the exercise. They last maybe fifteen seconds. But this is a demonstration not a real war so we continue firing slowly and steadily as the infantry loop around to our left. Once they get about three hundred meters from the objective they all hit their jump jets and race towards the objective firing madly. Langsdorf gives the Kodiaks the order to cease fire.
As we watch the infantry move through the objective Lieutenant Colonel Bean’s Cougar section continues to the west. The control group gives us another surprise. Another pop-up ‘tank’ platoon appears to the north of the objective. As I hammer TACNET and report ‘Contact right,’ Lieutenant Colonel Bean’s face appears and announces his own contact report with another element to the west of the objective. The display suddenly becomes crowded with red as the tactical computers process the new targets and spread them via TACNET.
I have time to notice that the Cougar section has come into contact with an entire company before Langsdorf starts hammering out orders: “Third Section, deal with the enemy platoon, all other Kodiaks follow me on jump jets.”
The Kodiaks to my left erupt into the sky on towering pillars of arctic light as I start tracking my weapons onto the plywood to my right. The military crest (a military crest is the crest line just below the top of the hill where a Marine can stand without being exposed to an enemy on the other side of the hill) I am standing on provides excellent cover. Instead of moving towards this new threat I simply rotate the left arm of my Kodiak up over the hill and as the reticle for this weapon lines up with one of the ‘tanks’ I fire. Again the near simultaneous crack and boom of Kodiak main gun shatters the air in the Rainbow. Lance fires a split second after I do. Prior to the commencement of the exercise we had worked out that in engagements with the ‘enemy’ I would work targets from left to right and he would work from right to left. So our shots hit separate targets and vaporize them neatly. I have got to beat him to the center tank. I quickly aim and squeeze the trigger. The noise from my shot is echoed by the thunder from Lance, just enough after my shot to notice. I smile. He needs to pick up his game.