Phoenix Rising (Book Two of The Icarus Trilogy) (19 page)

Douglas glared at Samantha Noble and shook his head.  The blond woman was simply there for ratings and to satisfy the Equal Opportunity laws.  Women’s groups still raised issue with the fact that she was an idiot, but it was enough of a compromise that the network heads didn’t feel like they needed to do more.  Douglas agreed.  The target demographic of War World didn’t take issue over having a hot blond woman with a big chest on their favorite program. 

The announcer sighed as his eyes flicked over to Franklyn Stone.  The intelligent and well-educated man could have done wonders to advance his image but instead chose to play right into the stereotype and reinforce centuries of prejudice.  Douglas was so involved with his spite for the man that he didn’t notice Jamie walking up to his desk.

“Douglas,” the producer said, startling the overweight announcer from his thoughts.  He felt like he had been caught sleeping in class.

“Hey, Jamie, what’s up?”  Caswell sneered at the remark and puffed up his chest.

“It’s Mr. Caswell, Douglas,” the producer said with a note of derision.  Douglas was confused at first but then remembered that he wasn’t supposed to be familiar with the man.  Caswell was a dictator and Douglas his slave.  The announcer gathered himself and cleared his throat before putting on a display of fear throughout his face.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Mr. Caswell.  What do you need?”  Douglas could see the slight twitch at the corner of Jamie’s mouth and knew the producer appreciated the sight.  He straightened his tie and looked at his co-conspirator.

“I’m here to inform you that today’s program will be a little different.  We’re focusing on making a hero.  He’s going to be very…beneficial for us.  I just want you to make sure that you put some optimism and bravado into your announcements today,” Jamie said before folding his hands in front of him.  The announcer looked at him with a slightly puzzled look before Jamie gave a slight nod.  Douglas got the hint, but didn’t particularly know why it would matter.  He nodded anyway and made sure to put a slight tremble in his voice.

“Yes, sir.  I’ll do what I can,” Douglas said before wringing his hands slightly.  He could tell from Jamie’s eyes that he wanted to laugh.  It was quite a show.  The producer turned to leave and looked back over his shoulder.

“See that you do.  Your job depends on it.”  Douglas looked at the screen in front of him and noticed the name of the soldier.  He wondered how Ryan Jenkins was going to be useful to them.

-

“Welcome to War World, the best show in the entire system!  Today’s program is brought to you by our corporate sponsors as always but especially by War World Entertainment.  It’s a special broadcast for a special person today.  We’re going to focus on a hero.  If you know him you love him.  If you don’t know him, after today you’re going to wonder how you missed him.  But I’ll let the other guys take it away from me.  Here’s Eric Jones, Franklyn Stone, Samantha Noble and, of course, Patrick McEwen for a very special episode of War World!”

Douglas wasn’t used to saying so much in just the announcements.  He wondered how much money they had pumped into the Crow to make this feasible.  As far as Douglas knew the soldier had potential, but still wasn’t at the same level as Carver, Romanov or even McEwen.  The old butcher sitting there medicated had a much better track record than this new rookie.  Douglas really wanted to watch this broadcast.

“Thanks, Sean, we got this,” Franklyn said, using Douglas’ false announcer name.  The overweight man wondered again why focus groups hated his name.  He watched as Franklyn’s white teeth gleamed in his plastic smile.  Douglas wanted to punch the man in the face.

“All right, guys, I’m excited about this,” Eric started looking to his peers as he spoke.  “The game with the Bulls yesterday was absolutely stunning when he took out those giants, but I’ve been a fan of this guy since his first game.  Best rookie debut I’ve ever seen.”

“Definitely have to agree with you,” Franklyn said, turning to face his colleague.  “He killed three guys in his first game.  Most guys are scared to death of fighting just out of training but Jenkins entered the games guns blazing.”  Douglas heard Franklyn’s comment and knew the anchor hadn’t remembered the soldier at all before the broadcast; he was just reading lines.

“Impressive to be sure, but I think we all remembered his fifth game when he brought victory to the Crows when all hope was lost,” Samantha said while reading off the prompter display.  As she spoke the screens behind them flickered to life and showed highlights of Jenkins’ career.  It showed the rousing speech he had given in anger to his teammates.  It showed their strike against the three Hawks and the missile bombardments which had ended the match.  Patrick stared at the screen and nodded slowly.

“Makes me proud to be a Crow, that one.”

“So quick to make a tactical decision.  I love it,” Franklyn said in praise.  Douglas remembered that broadcast.  He remembered Franklyn downplaying the man’s actions in favor of Feldman’s swan song. 
How quickly he takes back his words
.

“All of that is certainly worth looking at, but I think we all remember what happened with the Lions,” Eric said while throwing up his hands.

“Just pure guts, there.  I liked the kid already, but the way he led those two made me a fan,” Franklyn said before the screens changed to show Warner, Roberts and Jenkins facing off against a mechanized suit and two supporting soldiers.  The Lions were sandwiched between Warner on one side and the pair of Crows on the other.  Roberts was lying down and lazily rolling from side to side in a drug-induced stupor, but none of the anchors would mention a thing.

“I think we need to focus on this one.  I couldn’t believe it when I saw it,” Samantha said with a serious tone.

“I completely agree.  How ‘bout you start, Sam?” Eric asked.  Douglas knew the anchor to be quite the glory hound, but he had been more subdued since he had learned of his probable death sentence.  Samantha couldn’t tell; she was more than happy to get her time in the spotlight.

“Well, things were not going well for the Crows in this fight.  After suffering an injury in an earlier firefight, Roberts was largely incapacitated.  Jenkins had carried him for a kilometer to take refuge at Norris’ position only to find a bigger problem,” Samantha said as the footage streamed behind her.  Jenkins had carried Roberts for a kilometer but it was not from some errant injury.  The boy soldier was passed out from a combination of a pain spasm and overdosing on medication, but that didn’t make for good television.  The screens behind the anchors showed Jenkins looking towards Norris’ position on the ridge only to find a rocket fly past him and burst the Englishman into flames.

“Problems do not get bigger than that, Sam,” Franklyn said while chuckling and shaking his head.  “The LAST thing that you want to see when you’re going for cover is a missile from one of the most advanced weapons on the planet,” Franklyn said before looking at the screen behind him.  The camera panned from the still-burning ridge where Norris was dying to see the newest arrival to the scene. 

The mechanized suit was monstrous; one could just see the exposed upper half of the pilot through the piles of wires and hoses.  It stood at four meters tall with shielded legs and arms which were controlled by the pilots’ numerous switches and joysticks.  The rocket launcher on the left arm was still smoking, but even more intimidating was the mini-gun on the right arm which could bring death in an instant.  Above the exposed cockpit were a number of other weapons which could be used in different circumstances.

“I can only imagine what Jenkins is thinking at this point,” Eric said with what seemed like genuine awe.  “He had made it to relative safety.  Norris is one of the best snipers in the entire league and he was
that
close,” Eric said before squeezing an imaginary centimeter in between his thumb and index finger.  “Other soldiers in his place would have just given up.  They would have just let death take them,” the celebrity said while looking at the screen at this hero in the making.  Douglas could tell that Eric wasn’t faking it this time.  He really did sympathize with this soldier standing up against incredible odds.  Douglas couldn’t help but join in that sympathy.

“And you’ll see in just a minute what happens when you give up, Eric, though I’m sure you know what’s coming next,” Samantha said before turning to the camera and giving a plastic smile.  The announcer watched as the lead anchor turned to look at the woman and Douglas shivered when he felt the contempt that radiated off of the celebrity.  Douglas liked the man more and more as time went on.

“Yeah, things definitely aren’t over.  Warner, one of the most aggressive soldiers on the Crows, is on his side.  Here you can see them starting to communicate as the Lions start to inspect Norris’ last position,” Franklyn said before the footage turned to the soldiers planning out their tactics.  A topographical map showed up on one of the displays with the positions of the three Crows and the encroaching Lions.  Models of Jenkins and Roberts were on one side of the makeshift pathway while Warner was on the other.  The mech and the two supporting Lions on each side of it were moving towards the burning wreckage that used to be Norris’ hiding spot.  Franklyn started to point at the map as the scene played out.

“Now, here you can see they’re trying to make the best of their position.  From the conversation that was recorded over Comms we’re able to see what makes Jenkins such a good tactician
yet again
.  Warner starts to play up a scenario where they try to take out the mech’s pilot, but as you can see from our simulation,” Franklyn said as the units on the topographical map started to move and fire at each other.  With their focus on the pilot both Crows are quickly taken out by the two supporting soldiers and then the screen reset to the unfolding scene.  “That doesn’t end well.  Jenkins shoots that down and creates a plan for the two of them.”

“It’s really too bad Roberts was out of commission for the fight.  They could have used another man,” Patrick said while looking into the middle distance.  Franklyn just looked at the veteran and smiled.  Douglas bristled at the anchor’s handling of the medicated soldier.

“Sure could have, Pat.  Now what they’re going to do here is throw a chaff and disrupt the sensors on their visors.  That’s a sure way to cripple anyone, even if they are in a four-meter monstrosity.  Meanwhile, Roberts seems to understand what’s going on and decides to help the men take their last stand,” Franklyn said as Roberts started to crawl down the side of the pathway towards the war-time funeral pyre.  It wasn’t Roberts’ intention to help at all; he was just trying to get out of the way.  But again, that wasn’t good television.  It certainly wouldn’t go over well with the general populace if they knew Roberts was in so much pain that he wanted to die.  Samantha turned to the camera and smiled before taking the lead from Franklyn.

“Jenkins then convinces Warner to take out the support in the resulting confusion.  It’s a good way to leave the pilot blind.  Already there’s a lot of smoke from that first missile and that day was filled with all kinds of fog and low level clouds.  By taking out the sensors and leaving the pilot with just plain eyesight and no friends they could have a much better chance at taking out the Lions,” Samantha said with a flat delivery as she read off the teleprompter.  Douglas was only barely listening to her.  When it came down to the real action it was so much better to watch the real thing instead of paying attention to the woman in front of the screens.

“Classic pincer attack, folks.  I loved when that worked out in the games,” Patrick said as he watched the television screen with glazed eyes.  On the massive screens behind them the camera showed Jenkins from just a few meters away as he rose from his position and threw the grenade that had already been cooking in his hand.  He ducked back down behind cover just in time for the flash of the chaff grenade to fill the display.  He only waited half a second before rising up with his rifle and taking aim at the disoriented support soldier closest to him.

“Unfortunately it doesn’t work out too well.  Under pressure it seems that Jenkins is having a hard time taking aim and making sure every shot counts,” Eric said, determined to show at least some interest in providing commentary.  As he finished his statement Jenkins fired once and missed.  He fired again and the bullet sailed harmlessly past the enemy soldier.  “He actually squanders the opportunity that the chaff gave him and Somerset there,” Eric said before pointing at the Lion, “is already raising his own rifle to fire back at the rookie.  He really only has one chance at this point but as soon as the pressure is on,” he said, dropping off on his commentary to wait for the next strike.  Jenkins pulled the trigger once more and the bullet found its way into Somerset’s helmet.  “Jenkins shows just what kind of soldier he really is.”

“Meanwhile,” Franklyn started as the screens switched over to show Warner in profile from twenty meters away.  He was firing haphazardly at the other supporting soldier.  “Warner is having trouble with Urlov.  The Lion had snapped his attention over to Warner as the Crow made his entrance.  Warner has a hard time with keeping his mouth shut, it seems, and was yelling out in fury.  I know it’s his style, but it really backfires for him this time,” Franklyn said before pointing at the screen. 

“He hits the soldier with a burst to the chest, which does nothing but make Urlov stumble backwards.  Warner is losing it and when his gun jams,” Franklyn said while letting his voice get louder as the scene progressed, “he THROWS it at Urlov!”  The statement was punctuated by the black man jumping out of his seat and pointing at the screen while laughing.  Douglas watched out of the corner of his eye as the cameramen were able to keep the stereotype in their shots.  The announcer shook his head as Franklyn Stone sat back down and wiped a tear from his eye.

“Stupid thing to do, but I gotta hand it to Warner.  The guy is a
character
.  If something’s just not working he’s just not going to deal with it.  Luckily,” Franklyn said while Warner grabbed a grenade from his belt and threw it at the Lion already regaining his balance, “he knows enough to make things count.”  Urlov was jettisoned into the air as the frag grenade burst into pieces beneath him.  The soldier was dead before he hit the ground.  Franklyn merely watched the display with a nod.