Warzone: Nemesis: A Novel of Mars (13 page)

I see earthquakes and lightnin’.

I see bad times today.

Don’t go around tonight,

Well, it’s bound to take your life,

There’s a bad moon on the rise.

That’s all I need
, he thought. After changing the tape with another one from Neil Diamond, he felt a little better as the music began to play…

Where it began, I can’t begin to know when

But then I know it’s growing strong

Oh, wasn’t the spring, whooo

And spring became the summer

Who’d believe you’d come along

Hands, touching hands, reaching out

Touching me, touching you

Oh, sweet Caroline…

After finishing his beer, the post’s first officer called it a night and hit the rack.

July 15, 1970—Zero Five Hundred Zulu

SGT P-38 had the post ahead in his sights. He screwed the lid back on his thermos after pouring a cup. He shook the sleep out of his eyes, blinked and nearly pinched himself. It wasn’t a dream, he decided. Taking a sip, he wondered again for the hundredth time if he would see his mother and Billings, MT ever again. He pulled into the recycler bay, unloaded the precious cargo, and turned right back to the scrap field again. COL Red Fangs viewed the whole scene with pleasure, beginning to see some encouraging signs in this tight setup.

“1LT Boolean? What’s the estimated time the Soviet tank regiment will arrive?”

“Sir, if you mean at this post, they’re due west of our position, and estimated arrival is twenty-four and one-half hours. Twenty-three hours, if they stop just outside of artillery range.”

July 15, 1970—Zero Seven Hundred Zulu

The colonel opened up a link to his first officer. “What’s our artillery piece count?”

“Colonel, I’ll have our first artillery ready to deploy in one-half hour. We should have enough ready by the time the Soviets arrive to make them think twice about an early charge.”

“Very good! We will also need two tanks.”

“Sir, yes sir.”

“What does the alloy-x inventory look like?”

“Sir, the scavengers just did their first offload, and are just about to leave for the Frost Crater. With what we have now, we can build two tanks, a total of five artillery pieces, one forward observer vehicle, about a half-dozen spy drones. When they return from their next offload, there will be alloy-x to build more tanks.”

“Very good.”

The first officer called up the command sergeant major.

“Sir, yes sir.”

“First priority… I need more artillery pieces ASAP. After that, I need two tanks built.”

“Sir, yes sir.”

The command sergeant major had their tanks ready by zero eight hundred.

July 16, 1970—Zero hundred Thirty Zulu

“1LT Boolean?” asked CPT Watchful Eye.

“Sir, yes sir.”

“We’ve completed wiring the radar array. Once you run the software you should be up and running.”

“Very good, sir.”

“Roger that Watchful Eye, Boolean out.” The captain set up the software on his end and all diagnostics passed. They now had “eyes on the ground” and didn’t have to wait for the satellite. True, it wasn't long range enough to see the advancing artillery, but it could keep track of the Soviets. COL Red Fangs would be very pleased.

The first five artillery pieces set up under the shadow of the guntowers. The men didn’t have coordinates for a firing solution, but armed with high explosive shells, they loaded the barrel’s breech in readiness for the Soviet attack. They didn’t remain in the big gun, but went back to work in the factory. They would be ready at a minute’s notice for a “scramble” if needed.

July 16, 1970—Zero Two Thirty Zulu

COL Red Fangs joined his first officer at breakfast. At present, the only way to keep command discussions private on Luna at present was to meet in the cargo hold on the command vessel and close the door. The colonel pulled up a box, laid his tray on it and sat on another sturdy looking box that looked like it would support his weight. Looking through the file again, he considered what he would be discussing with his XO in their pre-battle strategy meeting.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Good morning.” He took a sip of hot coffee, a fork full of reconstituted scrambled eggs, then a bite out of a biscuit, and opened his file. He gave his XO time to pray and make the catholic sign of the cross before disturbing him. The colonel was respectful of his men’s beliefs. When he saw he was through, he continued. “Let’s get down to business. Status report?”

“Sir, forty-five Soviet tanks will arrive due west of our position at approximately zero four hundred. Ten more of their tanks are flying escort for their artillery. Our two tanks have been built and armed and are ready to meet the Soviet delegation. The defensive grid was completed while we slept, and the radar array is fully operational. We have five artillery pieces deployed on the line. It is enough to keep them at bay for now. The steel mill and oxygen extraction plant are both expected to be fully operational by zero six hundred. We can’t recycle any of the freighters until the post HQ is built. Our scavenger crew is expected to unload and leave back for the Frost crater by zero four hundred.”

“Very good! As soon as the steel mill is online, have them start constructing a post HQ/barracks as soon as possible. Make it submarine-tight, Colonel; don’t waste an inch of space. When are the freighters with the fittings and fixtures for the new building due?”

“On our next fleet of six ships. ETA July 17, seventeen hundred.”

“Very good.”

“Colonel, I dropped by tactical operations before getting breakfast. Software has been installed on both of our tanks, and we will be able to control the minefield detonation. We will have discriminator circuits on all of our tanks and equipment so we can’t set them off. The technician I spoke with said that the mines can be set to exclude a specific target, and I wondered why we would want to do that.”

“Good, depending on how the battle goes, we may have to prioritize whom we want to live or die among the Soviet command staff.”

LTC Judgment Day served in Vietnam with COL Red Fangs and knew when something was a little off-kilter. As his first officer and devil’s advocate, he knew it was his duty to get to the bottom of this. “Sir, exactly whom would we mark among the Soviet command staff as a high or low-priority target, sir?”

“First of all, COL Glaskov’s total victory over Eagle 1 has given him a tentative promotion to the politburo. Secondly, LTC Averbukh is deemed to be an even more difficult adversary should we kill COL Glaskov, or he gets promoted to post commander after COL Glaskov leaves. Thirdly, in a tank charge, MAJ Cherenkov is the highest-priority target. He’s a hard charger, and in a post siege, the men will follow him to the death without hesitation.”

LTC Judgment Day digested the facts, but had a nagging feeling something was left out. “Sir, with all due respects, we’ve served together for a long time. What are you
not
telling me?”

COL RED Fangs face flushed red, and the vein on the side of his head was swollen, resembling an angry red worm. He’d seen that look before, back in Vietnam when they found some of their men’s mutilated bodies the VC had tortured. “COL Cavender was my friend. He was a fine marine. The men of the Black Dogs Battalion were all fine marines. I’ll be damned if I let COL Glaskov get promoted for killing them!” he growled. The mask was off now, and the deep emotions he was hiding over the fall of Eagle 1 were now laid open like a festering wound.

“So, you want to kill him?”

“No! I want to let him live!”

Suddenly it occurred to the first officer that his boss had been plotting this out in intricate detail.

“I’m your first officer, and I can’t help you if I don’t know your mind.”

“Very well. Yes, I’ll kill him someday, but not now. I fully intend to make him suffer. I want to kill his first and second officers, repel his siege of our post, and recover most of the alloy-x. If I’m right, we will have enough alloy-x to supply the landing team at Mars. In short, I want him to suffer the humiliation of failure, and have his politburo appointment withdrawn. I want him to live for a time with the bitter taste of failure in his mouth. Then when he’s suffered enough…”

“And then you’ll kill him?”

The tension drained out of the colonel’s face. He smiled for the first time. “And then I’ll kill him!”

His first officer knew that this had become personal. In truth, he too had been changed by the unfolding events of the end of Eagle 1. Even with the personal motives, they could achieve all of their objectives with this plan. Their orders were to dig in, establish a post and survive the assault on their new post. “Understood. Sir, if I think your motivations are counterproductive at some point?”

“Then it would be your duty to point that out. Now, do you have any counsel to make this happen?”

“Yes, sir. I’d keep the scavengers gathering scrap on the Frost Crater until the Soviet tanks are dispatched to the intercept them. I’d then pull them in and refit them as minelayers loaded with proximity mines and redfield generators. This will remove the radar signature from the minelayers so that they can do their work undetected. It will be dark this afternoon for the next two weeks. Wait until the next Soviet satellite blackout window. Have the minelayers swing wide north and behind the Soviet lines and mine several of the small craters in the direct path of their artillery. With any luck, we should be able to take out a couple artillery pieces and a tank or two. When they return, refit them again as scavengers for scrap recovery on the battlefield. Then finally, when all other vital projects are complete, prepare the
backdoor surprise
.”

The colonel thought about it for a moment. “Good, I like it. Be ready to implement that plan when we can't salvage any more alloy-x. Concerning the mines—set the mines in the mine holes to ignore COL Glaskov. Only take him out if he breaches our post defenses personally. If he makes it within range of our guntowers, he’s fair game for snipers, tanks or anything else.”

“We’ll need his heat signature.”

“I know. If we knew one another, COL Glaskov would call to offer terms of surrender over the radio. I suspect since he doesn’t know anything about us, he’ll press for a meeting instead, to size us up. We will get his heat signature during the meeting. Even more, I want to hold off his attacking our scavengers as long as I can. Every piece of alloy-x scrap is vital. Bob, what do you think COL Glaskov will want to say at the meeting?”

“Probably offer us mercy if we surrender, noting what happened to the first American post.”

“What would you respond to that?” asked COL Red Fangs.

“I’d refuse, of course.”

“I agree. Think of something original and have it ready.”

“I'll have something ready for the meeting.”

“Glaskov will be calling me when he arrives at zero four hundred. I’ll purposely be busy and unable to take his call. That should show disrespect and get him a little upset. No sense in looking too eager to meet.”

“I agree, sir.”

July 16, 1970—Zero Four Hundred Zulu

The Soviet commander arrived, positioning his tank regiment to the west, just outside of the American artillery range, and hailed the Americans.

“This is COL Glaskov. I wish to speak with the American commander.”

“COL Red Fangs isn’t on the bridge. I’ll have him paged to call you,” informed 1LT Boolean.

Red Fangs? He has got to be joking
! “Very well.” He then abruptly terminated the call.

July 16, 1970—Zero Four Thirty Zulu

COL Red Fangs sat his third cup of coffee on his workstation on the bridge. He’d already spoken with CPT Watchful Eye and was aware of the Soviet colonel’s call, and the fact that he sounded about as hostile as his ex-wife.

“Captain, get COL Glaskov on the horn.”

“Sir, yes sir.” The captain transferred the call to the colonel’s workstation.

“COL Glaskov, this is COL Red Fangs, returning your call. What can I do for you?”

“I would like to meet with you and your first officer to discuss the terms of your surrender.”

“Very well, I’ll have a bioshelter constructed outside of our guntower range. I estimate you can make it here in one and one-half hours. It is now zero four thirty Zulu. We can meet at zero six thirty.”

“Very good.”

July 16, 1970—Zero Five Ten Zulu

PVT Badger scooped up another shovel of rocky lunar dirt with his backhoe bucket, swung it around and deposited its load into the bed of the mining truck. He scraped the ground with the teeth of the bucket on the retractable arm of his rig to loosen some more dirt, and then stopped to check a chip light. It indicated trouble with the cooling system that protected the computer and battery from the extreme lunar heat. He radioed his walking boss.

“CSM Rainmaker, I have a chip light on the cooling system.”

“Take your backhoe into the factory’s mechanic bay. I’ll get a crew to meet you to repair it.”

“Yes, sir.” Getting the oxygen extraction plant and steel mill up was to no avail, if the earth moving equipment was not operational. He turned the rig around and drove his tracked excavator back to the repair bay. The heavy equipment repair crew was already there when he arrived.