by Leigh Barker
“Hell, we could just push it over,” Gunny said. “No need to waste C-4.”
“Off you go, then,” Winter said. “That weighs eleven thousand pounds, but don’t let me stop you.”
Gunny strolled around to the other side. “I’ll wait for my spinach. So we place the charges on the main engine,” he said, pointing. “Next to the hydrazine tank. That should get it done.”
“Funny thing though,” Winter said, standing with his hands on his hips and looking up at the spacecraft. “This bird’s got US Air Force markings.”
“Maybe they’re to fool anybody seeing it flying over Central Park,” Gunny said.
They stopped and turned at the sound of a .50 cal opening up. Then another.
“Shit,” Ethan said. “That’s Loco poking the bear.”
“Sounds like the bear’s poking back,” Gunny said.
“Loco? Do you copy?”
There was no answer, just the sound of his M40 firing steadily.
“Let’s get this done and get the hell out of here,” Ethan said.
Gunny and Winter dropped their packs and pulled out the blocks of C-4 while Ethan crossed to the door and looked back towards the water tower. Loco’s radio was no longer broadcasting. He took his radio off his belt and looked at it for a moment, almost afraid to test it.
“Loco, sitrep.” He waited. “Loco, do you copy?”
Nothing. He looked up again at the sound of the .50 cal firing a sustained burst. He started to close the door, then saw the NK infantry spilling onto the road at the gate, moving slowly and warily, but advancing. And there were more than enough to get the job done. He saw the same thing at the other end of the road. So no strolling out of there whistling a cheery tune.
He glanced back to see Gunny and Winter approaching, their job done.
“Company?” Gunny said.
“Few folks dropping by to say hi,” Ethan said.
“Loco and Smokey?” Gunny said.
Ethan shook his head. “Radio’s out.”
“Shame to break up the family,” Winter said, and raised an eyebrow.
“It is,” Ethan said. “Let’s go.”
“The thing about not killing people?” Gunny said.
“Forget it. They’ve got nukes,” Ethan said, pushed the door full open, unslung his M16 and stepped out.
The infantry approaching from the gate saw them at once and froze. They were mostly youngsters in the military because saying no wasn’t an option, and they had never expected to see enemy soldiers up close. The delay gave the team time to cross the road and disappear into the alley leading to the water tower.
Ethan stopped at the end of the buildings with Gunny and Winter behind him, their rifles pointing wherever they looked.
“Loco and Smokey are gone,” Ethan said.
“Prisoners?” Gunny said, without looking back from watching the entrance to the alley.
“I hope so,” Ethan said, and they all knew what the alternative was.
“We could run away,” Winter said. “But then we’d miss all the fun.”
“And Loco’s eternal gratitude for saving him,” Gunny said.
“You saw how many of them are coming, right?” Winter said.
“I’m not worried,” Gunny said. “Top’ll think of a plan.”
Ethan glanced back but couldn’t tell if he was kidding. He decided he wasn’t. Better think of a plan. And just like that, he did.
“They’ll want to question them,” he said. “If we’re quick enough, we could just snatch them right back before they have time to think it through and consolidate.”
Gunny turned slowly. “That’s your plan?”
“That is an excellent plan, Master Sergeant,” Winter said. “I wish you the very best luck with it. I’ll be right here when you get back.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Ethan said. “We’ll be killed for sure.”
“In that case,” Winter said. “Count me in.”
“I suppose I’d better come along,” Gunny said. “Somebody sane ought to be there.”
“Nobody sane would be anywhere near this mission,” Ethan said, and set off at a crouching run.
“He keeps doing this shit,” Winter said.
“He does. It’s why we love him, right?”
“Don’t tell him that, for Chrissakes.” Winter nodded towards Ethan moving slowly between skips of scrap metal. “Shall we go and get killed?”
“Not doing anything else, so yeah, might as well,” Gunny said, and followed Ethan’s lead.
They found Loco and Smokey in no time flat, sitting in the back of an ancient Soviet-era jeep. They also found what looked like a whole company of infantry guarding them.
Ethan waved Gunny and Winter up beside him behind a dented orange skip.
Winter leaned past him and took a quick look, then pulled back quickly. “I guess rushing them is out of the question.”
“It’s physically possible,” Gunny said, and shrugged. “Be spectacular. If short.”
“A diversion might be a better military-type tactic,” Ethan said, and took the remote detonator from his pocket and pointed to the shiny new workshop visible down the rutted road.
“It’ll be a hell of a diversion if they go nuclear,” Gunny said.
“You won’t even hear the bang,” Winter said.
“Take up position,” Ethan said. “If the fireworks don’t move them, take out the four officers in the big hats; then we go with Winter’s plan.” He saw the puzzled look. “We rush them.”
“Cool,” Winter said, and moved off to his right to target the officers with his M16 while Gunny moved left.
Ethan closed his eyes. “Hey, I don’t ask for much. Well, okay, there was the thing when I was still with my ex, but generally I don’t. Give me this one and I’ll say twelve Hail Marys.”
He pressed the detonator.
Nothing happened for a microsecond that seemed like an age; then the workshop swelled like a fat ass in lycra sitting. The window frames went first, blowing out ahead of jets of white fire; then the roof rose ten feet into the air before the blast reached it and vaporized it in a mushroom cloud that looked for all the world like the nukes had detonated. The workshop was replaced by a white-hot bubble that expanded up and out, enveloping the buildings surrounding it. Secondary explosions joined in the blast as munitions and fuel went up on all sides.
They saw the blast wave coming like an approaching cat five cyclone and threw themselves flat on the ground.
“Shit!” Gunny said, an instant before it arrived.
The blast blew the orange skip over and rolled it away, then kept going. The troops were just standing there in dumb shock when it hit and blew them away like twigs in a hurricane.
Ethan took his hands off his ears and put his head up slowly. So now he knew what had been in the boxes he’d climbed over to get to the nukes.
“Hey, I’m not dead,” Winter said, brushing debris off his fatigues.
“How much C-4 did you use in there?” Gunny asked.
“It wasn’t the C-4, it was whatever the hell explosives they had in the crates.”
“They put the nukes in with explosive ordinance?” Gunny said, shaking his head.
“Works for me,” Ethan said, getting to his feet. “Come on, let’s get our boys out before they wake up.” He pointed at the troops scattered around like toy soldiers after a hissy fit.
“They’ll be toast,” Winter said, joining him.
They were almost at the upturned jeep when Loco stood up from behind it and grinned at them, his teeth Hollywood white against his soot-blackened face.
“Smokey?” Ethan said, running up to him.
Smokey stood up, shaking his head and patting his hands over his ears. “What?” he shouted.
Ethan pointed at the troops rousing from their little nap. “We’re leaving.”
Gunny tapped his shoulder. “That’ll be a neat trick.” He pointed at the mass of troops running towards them down the road and
from every side alley.
“They look pissed,” Loco said, still grinning, elated at not being dead. Yet.
“Almost forgot,” Gunny said, taking out his remote detonator. “Probably should’ve done this before nearly getting blown to bits by our caring Master Sergeant here.”
“My pleasure,” Ethan said.
“Sir?” Andie’s voice sounded pinched and concerned. “Are you all still standing?”
“We are,” Ethan said. “But not for long by the look of it.”
“I see you.”
Ethan frowned, then looked up. “You got a satellite?”
“Yes, sir. That’s how we’re talking. For another twenty mikes.”
“What do you see?” Ethan said, and started back across the road that was now strewn with what used to be buildings.
“You’re going to be overrun,” Andie said, her voice clipped as she controlled her nerves.
They stopped at the upturned orange skip and Gunny armed his detonator. “Might as well blow the Orbiter, then.”
“No. Don’t blow it! I repeat, do not blow the X-37,” Andie said.
“What have you got in mind?” Ethan said.
“The X-37 is your transport out of there.”
They stared at each other for a moment.
“Say again,” Ethan said. “I thought you said we’re going to ride in the spaceship.”
“Correct,” Andie said. “Can you get back to it before the bogies arrive?”
“If it’s a way out, that’s an affirmative,” Ethan said, and started running back the way they’d come, with the others right on his heels.
“Smokey, Loco, dump the C-4 off the spaceship,” Ethan said as they burst into the warehouse. “We’ll buy some time.”
Gunny and Winter took up position on either side of the big doors while Ethan knocked out a side window that looked out onto the road and the troops, not running now, but coming on steadily.
“The big hats,” Ethan said, and sighted on the officer shooing his young soldiers forward.
It was a fluke that they all fired at the same time, but the effect was spectacular. Three officers flew backwards as if slipping on ice and sprawled on the road. The troops froze for a moment, recovered and ran for any cover they could find. Then they started firing their Russian AKMs. They were unskilled and raw, but two hundred troops shooting, even if it was wild, could lay down a hell of a lot of fire. Somebody was going to get more than a hangnail real soon.
The tin warehouse wall was starting to look like a colander and Ethan, Gunny and Winter lay flat on the floor and waited for the shooters to get bored, or run out of ammo.
Ethan moved his radio up without lifting his body off the wet concrete. “Andie, our asses are hanging out here. What’s the play?”
“I’ve been studying the schematics of the X-37,” Andie said. “It’s been modified. Instead of a regular payload bay for experiments, it’s got four seats.”
“Seats? I thought it was for carrying the nukes.” Ethan said, and looked back at the spacecraft. It didn’t seem big enough. “Never mind. It’s going to be a tight squeeze.”
“Yes, sir,” Andie said.
“Petty Officer,” Ethan said, “you know we can’t fly the thing, don’t you?”
“You couldn’t anyway, sir. It’s piloted from the ground. Like a drone.”
“C-4’s clear,” Loco shouted.
“You’re the pilot?” Ethan said.
“Yes, sir. I am,” Andie said.
Ethan almost asked how, but that could wait. “What do we do?”
“Get on board,” Andie said. “And close your eyes.”
Ethan touched Gunny and Winter on the shoulder and they crawled back away from the doors, stood and ran. The boy troops weren’t getting bored yet.
Ethan grabbed the aluminum ladder leaning against a beam and dropped it onto the side of the spacecraft.
Loco saw Ethan’s intention and stepped back. “You have got to be kiddin’ me.” He pointed at the cramped bay with the seats designed for Lilliputians. “You want me to get in that? And then what?”
Ethan pointed up at the roof, and Loco followed his finger.
“Gunny,” Ethan said, “crank the handle.”
Gunny ran to the opposite wall and began winding the roof open while Winter did the same for the other half.
Smokey climbed the shaky aluminum ladder to the bay and crawled over one of the seats. “Top,” he said, sliding along the back of the seat and flopping into the familiar prelaunch position, “I’m taking the first seat, so you guys will just have to climb over me to get to yours.”
Loco took another step back. “Tell you what, Top. I’ll cover you from over there.”
“Get in the goddamned spaceship,” Ethan said. And that was an order he’d never thought he’d give.
Loco climbed the ladder, mumbling and shaking his head. He climbed in and Smokey told him to watch where he was putting his size tens.
“We’ve got to go,” Ethan said, waving the other two back.
He followed them up the steps, throwing one last look at the doors in case the troops got their nerve back and rushed the place. He climbed over the others, pushed himself into the tiny seat and clipped his seatbelt, for all the good it would do.
“Houston,” he said into his radio, “we’re ready for lift-off.”
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Gunny said.
“Never been a spaceman before,” Ethan said.
“Don’t be stupid. We’ll be burnt crispy critters when this thing lights up.”
“Andie, how long to get airborne?”
“Depends if I have to keep stopping to answer fool questions,” Andie said. “Err, that didn’t come out right, sir.”
“It did. And don’t call me sir. Top will do fine.” He was smiling. He liked this techy. Especially as she was saving their lives. Well, maybe; day wasn’t over yet.
The bay doors hummed and closed over their heads with an inch to spare.
“What now?” Loco said, and squeezed his eyes shut.
The engine ignited in reply.
The Orbiter shook and they instinctively gripped their seats. It lifted off, hung in the air for an instant and then shot up through the small square in the roof with no room to spare.
Ethan owed a beer to the Korean geek who’d set it up. It occurred to him he hadn’t even thought to check if it was lined up on the launch hatch. But this was a whole new experience. Showed you’re never too old.
The troops stood up and stared at the silver Orbiter as it arced up into a clear sky on top of a spiral of white smoke.
Ethan opened his eyes, then shut them again as the G-forces crushed him into the hard seat and held him there. A few gut-wrenching minutes later the pressure lifted and he guessed they were in space, but with no windows, there was no way to tell.
“Are we in space?” he said.
“More or less,” Winter said. “Low orbit.”
“Andie, where’s our LZ?” Ethan asked, and listened to the static on the radio. The satellite was out of range, way, way out of range. “Sit back, folks, and enjoy the in-flight movie.”
“What about SAMs?” Loco said.
“They haven’t built a missile that can reach us,” Gunny said. “Not in this stone-age country. Spent all their efforts building ICBMs to incinerate the Great Satan.”
“That’s the other lot,” Winter said.
“Other lot of what?”
“The ragheads. They think we’re the Great Satan, not the North Koreans, they call us miguk nom.”
“That don’t sound so bad,” Loco said.
“It means American bastards,” Winter said.
“Sounds like they pegged us pretty good,” Gunny said.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Winter said, nodding to himself. “Some of us, anyway.”
“How do you know they call us that?” Ethan said, mostly to take their minds off hanging in space without a handbrake.
“I read
the mission brief.”
“Somebody had to,” Gunny said.
“That’s what I thought,” Winter said. “Didn’t mention anything about being a spaceman though.”
“It was a surprise,” Ethan said, “like opening your eyes and finding your pop has put you on a roller coaster.”
“Your dad did that?” Gunny said.
“Yeah. Said it was fun.”
“Mine too. Scared the shit outa me.”
“What don’t kill you…” Ethan said, and leaned back as far as the tiny seat would allow and let the tension kick his muscles as it wound down.
Except for the occasional click as the heat from take-off bled out into space, the Orbiter was completely silent with no sensation of movement.
“Feels like we’re just sitting someplace,” Smokey said.
“We’re probably zooming over the DMZ right now,” Loco said. “Hey, we’ll be home in time to watch the game. They’ve got TV in South Korea, don’t they?”
“And flushing toilets,” Winter said.
“Cool.”
“That funny thing I mentioned earlier,” Winter said. “About the US Air Force markings?”
“What about them?” Ethan said. “Probably just for the tourists.”
“There’s a sign on the bulkhead here saying keep feet off. How come it’s not in Korean?”
Ethan looked around and saw other tiny labels in English and thought about it. It didn’t take much thinking.
“The blueprints were a misdirect. Orpheus didn’t just steal the blueprints, he stole the whole damned bird.”
“The guy’s got big ones,” Gunny said.
“Whose spaceship is it, then?” Smokey said.
“It belongs to the US Air Force. Well, it did. Now it’s ours,” Gunny said.
“They’re going to be pissed,” Winter said.
“That we got it back for them?” Ethan said.
“No, that we know they lost it.”
“Let’s not tell them,” Ethan said, and tried again to get comfortable in the tiny seat. With the same result.
Twenty-five minutes later the Orbiter started to shake itself awake.
“What the hell?” Loco said, and checked his seatbelt. “We crashing?”
“It’s just re-entry,” Winter said. “The atmosphere is back and making itself felt.”