my stepfather,” Zappa said.
Modular Man looked at the colonel’s uniform. “Sergeant?” he said.
“U.S.M.C.,” said Goode. “Retired.”
“I got him a light colonel’s commission,” Zappa said. “If I’m going to have to make a landing on an island, I want to have someone around who was in the first wave on Tarawa and Saipan.” Goode grinned. “I get to make them all salute me. It’s quite a change.” He looked at Zappa. “Even if I am in the wrong fucking branch of service.”
Vidkunssen handed everyone their drinks. Zappa took a sip of mineral water, then said, “Let’s have some music.”
Vidkunssen punched a button on the boom box and
Arab music began to wail. Zappa grinned. “The opposition might be listening,’ he said. “Or our own side. You never know.” He looked up at Katzenback. “You’ve had time to poke around. What do you make of Phillip Baron von Herzenhagen?”
The thin man twitched a smile. “Spook City. I was around enough of them in the Nam. I’ve got the smell of them by now.”
“Von Herzenhagen himself.”
“The people around him sure as hell are. The baron himself” He shrugged. “Hard to say.”
“We’re ordered to turn any prisoners over to his unit.”
“Well, he’s a bigwig with the Red Cross, right? So that sort of makes sense. But those guys around him sure as hell aren’t Clara Barton.”
Zappa gnawed his mustache. “I don’t like the vibe. I was with von Herzenhagen when he interrogated Tachyon, and he damn near tore the girl apart. He’s either a pro, or he’s crazy.”
“I don’t like the vibe either.”
“But the fewer jumpers my men have to handle themselves, the better.”
“My guess is that a whole lot of our prisoners are gonna end up working for the spooks.”
“If we take any prisoners, that is. If they don’t give up, I don’t hold out a lot of hope.” Zappa leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “Anybody here think they’re going to listen to Hartmann’s appeal?”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Katzenback finally spoke. “We’ll probably get a few of the more unmotivated types. The ones that wouldn’t give us much grief anyway.’
Zappa looked up at Modular Man. "I’ve assessed the previous assaults,” he said, “both in light of my own experience and that of” he nodded at Goode “the Georgia cracker here. I have no intention of repeating previous mistakes. In the past the goal of the military was to retrieve a national monument without damaging it in any significant way.”
“That led to a lot of restraint,” Goode said. “And a lot of dead marines.”
“But now.” Zappa continued, “the national monument simply doesn’t exist anymore, and nobody in their right mind wants to protect that freaky castle. I have the authority to use any means necessary to deal with this emergency.”
“The island’s too fucking small for a landing.” Goode added. “You can’t put enough soldiers in, and you can’t use heavy weapons for fear you’ll hit your own people. And that outer wall well, if we got people on it, we could use them as artillery spotters. But that’s about all.”
“Therefore,” Zappa said, “I’m not putting any more troops on that island until resistance is over. Not until I can get my men onto the Rox by walking there on a bridge of spent shell casings.
“They say that Bloat can change physical reality. My bet is that he’s not going to be able to change the five hundred artillery and mortar shells I can drop on the Rox every single minute. Or what the Air Force can do to him. Or Tomahawk missiles dropping cluster bombs. One lousy fuel-air bomb will suck the oxygen right out of the defenders’ lungs and pulverize their fortifications at the same time. So that means they surrender before sunset or get bombed until there’s no one left.”
There was another long moment of silence. This was the man, Modular Man thought, who Cyclone thought liked jokers too
Modular Man looked at the colonel’s uniform. “Sergeant?” he said.
“U.S.M.C.,” said Goode. “Retired.”
“I got him a light colonel’s commission,” Zappa said. “If I’m going to have to make a landing on an island, I want to have someone around who was in the first wave on Tarawa and Saipan.” Goode grinned. “I get to make them all salute me. It’s quite a change.” He looked at Zappa. “Even if I am in the wrong fucking branch of service.”
Vidkunssen handed everyone their drinks. Zappa took a sip of mineral water, then said, “Let’s have some music.”
Vidkunssen punched a button on the boom box and
Arab music began to wail. Zappa grinned. “The opposition might be listening,’ he said. “Or our own side. You never know.” He looked up at Katzenback. “You’ve had time to poke around. What do you make of Phillip Baron von Herzenhagen?”
The thin man twitched a smile. “Spook City. I was around enough of them in the Nam. I’ve got the smell of them by now.”
“Von Herzenhagen himself.”
“The people around him sure as hell are. The baron himself” He shrugged. “Hard to say.”
“We’re ordered to turn any prisoners over to his unit.”
“Well, he’s a bigwig with the Red Cross, right? So that sort of makes sense. But those guys around him sure as hell aren’t Clara Barton.”
Zappa gnawed his mustache. “I don’t like the vibe. I was with von Herzenhagen when he interrogated Tachyon, and he damn near tore the girl apart. He’s either a pro, or he’s crazy.”
“I don’t like the vibe either.”
“But the fewer jumpers my men have to handle themselves, the better.”
“My guess is that a whole lot of our prisoners are gonna end up working for the spooks.”
“If we take any prisoners, that is. If they don’t give up, I don’t hold out a lot of hope.” Zappa leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “Anybody here think they’re going to listen to Hartmann’s appeal?”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Katzenback finally spoke. “We’ll probably get a few of the more unmotivated types. The ones that wouldn’t give us much grief anyway.’
Zappa looked up at Modular Man. "I’ve assessed the previous assaults,” he said, “both in light of my own experience and that of” he nodded at Goode “the Georgia cracker here. I have no intention of repeating previous mistakes. In the past the goal of the military was to retrieve a national monument without damaging it in any significant way.”
“That led to a lot of restraint,” Goode said. “And a lot of dead marines.”
“But now.” Zappa continued, “the national monument simply doesn’t exist anymore, and nobody in their right mind wants to protect that freaky castle. I have the authority to use any means necessary to deal with this emergency.”
“The island’s too fucking small for a landing.” Goode added. “You can’t put enough soldiers in, and you can’t use heavy weapons for fear you’ll hit your own people. And that outer wall well, if we got people on it, we could use them as artillery spotters. But that’s about all.”
“Therefore,” Zappa said, “I’m not putting any more troops on that island until resistance is over. Not until I can get my men onto the Rox by walking there on a bridge of spent shell casings.
“They say that Bloat can change physical reality. My bet is that he’s not going to be able to change the five hundred artillery and mortar shells I can drop on the Rox every single minute. Or what the Air Force can do to him. Or Tomahawk missiles dropping cluster bombs. One lousy fuel-air bomb will suck the oxygen right out of the defenders’ lungs and pulverize their fortifications at the same time. So that means they surrender before sunset or get bombed until there’s no one left.”
There was another long moment of silence. This was the man, Modular Man thought, who Cyclone thought liked jokers too
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