Ralph Peters (79 page)

Taylor did not wait to see his orders carried out. He ran down the hallway in a fury, anxious to see what kind of bullshit Ryder was up to. The mission was as clear as could be.

Taylor burst into the computer room. Ryder jumped, then calmed when he saw who it was. He sat before the central workstation of a large computer. Smiling.

"
What the hell's going on here?
"
Taylor barked.

Ryder ignored his tone of voice, grinning like a fool.
"
Look at this here, sir,
"
he said.
"
Just look. It's incredible.
"

Jesus Christ, Taylor thought. What now? He walked over to the workstation in a rage that the boy was not already putting all of his energy into destroying Japanese
combat systems. Ryder
gave the appearance of just playing with
the great machine.

Taylor wanted to scream at him. But he was not certain that
would be
the best approach. The important thing, he reminded himself, was to accomplish the mission. Even if one of
your
key players turned out to be
an
incompetent nut.

"
What's the problem?
"
Taylor asked, straining to keep his voice calm. Meredith came up beside him.

Ryder looked up brightly.
"
There's no problem, sir. This is
great.
Just look.
"

Taylor bent over the computer. But he could not read he arcane symbols of the Japanese computer language.
"
All right,
"
he said.
"
Tell me what it means.
"

"
That column of numbers on the right side?
"
Ryder said.
"
See?
"

Taylor mumbled.
"
Yes.
"

"
Those are control nodes for the Japanese space defense system, the what-do-you-call-it? Satsee or something?
"

"
SAD-C,
"
Taylor corrected automatically.
"
Okay, so what does it mean?
"
No sooner had he spoken the words than he began to realize why the warrant officer was so excited.

"
Well,
"
Ryder said happily,
"
we knew the Japanese had programmed all their tactical stuff so it could be ordered to self-destruct. But we never dreamed—
"

Taylor put his hand on the younger man's shoulder, anchoring them both to reality.

"
You're telling me,
"
Taylor said,
"
that this computer can order the Japanese
space
defenses to self-destruct? The home islands shield?
"

"
Well,
"
Ryder said,
"
they probably won't blow up or anything like that. The self-destruct order will probably just destroy the electronic circuits. The satellites will still be up there and all. They just won't be able to do anything.
"

Taylor tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder.
"
Are you absolutely certain? There's no possibility of a mistake?
"

Ryder shrugged as though it were really a minor matter.

"
No way,
"
he said.
"
It's clear as day. Just look over here. See, I told the computer I was that Japanese general and—
"

Taylor listened. Yes. General Noburu Kabata. Meredith interrupted.
"
Do
it,
"
he begged.
"
Stick it to the bastards while there's still time. If we take out the space defenses, Japan won't be able to defend itself against shit. It changes everything.
"

Yes.

It changed everything.

"
Is it hard to do?
"
Taylor asked Ryder.

"
Piece of cake,
"
the warrant officer said, as though he had been surprised at the question.
"
You want me to do it then, sir?
"

Taylor listened to the sounds of battle above their heads.
"
Absolutely. How long will it take?
"

Ryder didn't answer. He began to punch keys. The screen changed, and the warrant officer began to sort his way through a parade of numbers. Heavy footsteps pounded overhead. The fighting intensified again.

While waiting for Ryder to set up the program, Taylor turned to Meredith. The S-2 was putting pressure on his neck with a handkerchief. There was a lot of blood.
"
Merry? Are you sure you're all right?
"

The intelligence officer nodded heavily.
"
Just messy. Slash wound. Doesn't even hurt. Christ, I thought my number was up.
"

"
Merry, the general's dead.
"

The S-2 looked at him.

"
General Noburu Kabata,
"
Taylor went on.
"
I killed him. It was a fluke. The bastard had me cold. And he didn't fire.
"
Taylor shook his head, still unable to understand it. A shiver passed over him at the remembrance.
"
He had me cold.
"

"
You're sure? You're sure it was him?
"

"
Yeah. You can report it as a confirmed kill. He's in the ops center, if you want to see. Not very pretty, I'm afraid.
"
Taylor lowered his eyes.
"
I got carried away. Flashing on Lucky Dave. And Manny.
"

Meredith lifted the handkerchief from his neck, testing. Taylor tugged at his first aid pack, letting the bandage
drop into his hand.
"
Here. Use this. And where's
your
goddamned aid pack? I ought to give you an Article Fifteen.
"

"
When we get out of this,
"
Meredith said,
"
you're welcome to give me anything you want, sir.
"

"
I still don't understand it,
"
Taylor said.
"
All he had to do was pull the damned trigger.
"

Out in the hallway Parker or Kozlov fired a burst down the corridor. Then another.

Ryder slapped at the keyboard one last time, then swiveled around to face Taylor and Meredith.

"
Ready to do it, Chief?
"
Taylor asked.

"
It's already done,
"
Ryder said nonchalantly.
"
No more Japanese space defenses.
"

Taylor looked at the warrant officer, unsure whether he was joking or not, unable to quite believe that things could be this easy, after all the years of struggle, of failure, of dreaming of a better day.

"
Chief,
"
Meredith said, speaking for Taylor,
"
this is no joke. Are you absolutely certain the Japanese space defense system has been . . . incapacitated?
"

Ryder shrugged.
"
Unless the computer's lying.
"

"
Jesus,
"
Meredith said.

"
All right,
"
Taylor said, businesslike again. He had commanded himself not to think of anything but the matters at hand. History and greater decisions could wait. There was more shooting out in the hallway.

"
Chief,
"
Taylor said urgently,
"
we've still got to take out the systems in-theater. Can you find the Scramblers?
"
He almost added that there was no time to waste. But Ryder was doing just fine. In his own little world. Taylor did not want to make him nervous at this point.

The warrant officer was easily the least troubled of the three men in the room. He was an expert, doing what he had been trained to do. If anything, the boy seemed blithely happy.

Ryder's fingers worked over the keyboard as though he were a master pianist playing scales and arpeggios. Taylor, who had worked with computers for so many years, who had even forced himself to study them, despite the fact that his natural interests lay far afield, admired Ryder's confidence and dexterity. Taylor knew enough to understand the complexity of the formulae with which the warrant officer was working, but the boy made it look like the easiest thing on earth.

Such a man could have made a far better living out of uniform. Taylor wondered briefly what story lay behind the warrant officer's boyish features, what had called him so irresistibly to military service. It was one of the wonders of the world that the Army always seemed to come up with the men it needed in a desperate hour.

"
Chief?
"
Taylor said. He could not help interrupting.
"
Are we going to make it?
"

Ryder brushed away the colonel's concern with a slight gesture. His fingers continued to dance over the keys.
"
The tactical stuffs in a different file. They didn't set this program up to be user friendly. I mean, it's a totally different logic system. And I guess they didn't want every Tom, Dick, and Harry destroying their aircraft and tanks and stuff.
"

"
Chief, if you can only find one thing, find the Scramblers.
"

Ryder nodded. Then he paid his full attention back to his labors.

Three heavy explosions sounded in the distance. Taylor and Meredith looked at each other.

"
Those were outside,
"
Meredith said, putting their mutual knowledge into words.

A moment later, Hank Parker came into the room. His face was grimed and he was no longer smiling.

He held out the pork-chop microphone from the radio slung over his shoulder.
"
Sir, it's Captain Zwack up in the overwatch bird. The relief columns are all over the city. He can't hold them anymore. His main gun system's gone to shit. He's trying to slow them down with his Gatling gun, but he's almost out of ammunition.
"

"
What's Nowak say?
"
Taylor asked, referencing the commander of the diversion force fighting in the building overhead and in the courtyard.
"
How's the situation on the ground?
"

"
They all say the same thing,
"
Parker answered.
"
It's a matter of minutes. If that. If we don't get everybody
back up in the air, they'll be able to take us out on the ground.
"

Taylor turned to Ryder.
"
Come
on,
Chief.

Suddenly, Ryder pushed back from the console. It was a gesture of triumph. The boy was grinning, and the screen ran from top to bottom with fields of numbers.

"
Got them,
"
Ryder cried.
"
We got them. We're into the program.
"

"
Good work,
"
Taylor said.
"
Let's take them out and get the hell out of here. Merry, you—
"

"
No,
"
Ryder wailed.
"
Oh, shit.
"

Taylor turned. In the background, Parker's radio crackled with another message from the officer who was flying the rear guard M-100, announcing that he was out of Gatling gun ammunition and begging the raiding force on the ground to hurry before the enemy vanguard reached them. Taylor knew the officer well, a born cavalryman who was in the Army because he loved it, who could have led a life of leisure but chose instead to serve his country in black times. Taylor also knew that, despite the uselessness of his empty weapons, the officer would remain onstation until his comrades joined him in the sky. Taylor knew he would get the same sort of performance from the hardheaded raid commander slugging it out above their heads or somewhere out in the compound. That officer was an all-American ethnic Pole with a sense of honor beautifully out of place in the new century. Every man would remain at his station until the job was done.

Ryder's face had turned pale. He looked up at Taylor with an expression of helpless loss.

"
What's the matter?
"
Taylor said calmly.

"
I ... I can't tell which system is which,
"
Ryder said.
"
I don't have the right key.
"

"
Fuck it. Just destroy them all,
"
Taylor said, beginning to lose his patience.

Ryder shook his head.
"
Sir ... the way the program's set up . . . you have to destroy each system individually.
"
He half-turned back to the console. A flashing star identified an alphanumeric. Ryder tapped a key. The alphanumeric disappeared and the blinking star moved down to the next number.

"
See?
"
Ryder said.
"
All you have to do to destroy something is tap the control key. Right here. But you might be destroying anything. Maybe a tank. Or just a radio set. Or one of the scramblers. I can't tell. But you have to hit the key for every single number. And there are thousands in the data base.
"
Ryder tapped the key again, erasing another number, destroying another unidentified system out on the distant battlefield.
"
It's going to take a while,
"
he said. And he hit the key again.

More explosions sounded from the world beyond the building. A closer blast shook the ceiling. The overhead lights blinked. But the computer had its own miniaturized power source—it was an independent world.

Ryder shifted his full attention back to the computer, striking the control key again each time the star moved down. It seemed to take two to three seconds to destroy each system. So easy. And yet.

"
Give me the microphone,
"
Taylor ordered Parker.
"
And get Kozlov in here.
"

Parker handed over the mike. Meredith dashed into the hallway to fetch the Russian.

Taylor had forgotten the day's call signs. He had forgotten everything but the business at hand.
"
Nowak,
"
he called the ground force commander,
"
can you hear me?
"
He waited. Hoping. And then the familiar voice came heavily over the comms set.
"
Bravo four-five. Over.
"

"
I want you to disengage. Start pulling out. Get your men loaded up as fast as you can and get into the air. Do it now. Over.
"

"
Wilco. You need help?
"

"
Negative. Just get in the air. Zwack's out of bullets. Your ships can do us more good in the air now than your men can do on the ground. We're almost done,
"
Taylor lied.
"
Break. Zwack, you sonofabitch, don't do anything crazy. As soon as Nowak's in the air, I want your ass on the way to Turkey. We're going to exfiltrate individually, and you won't do anybody any good dead. The war's not over yet. You read me?
"

"
Lima Charlie.
"
It was the voice of a man who had chosen hard service over the safest life money could buy.