doubt in the minds of the men that he was the Dutchman’s son, it quickly vanished then.
“You men don’t know me, but I’m asking you to trust me. I know that’ll be hard, and that it’s always hard having someone at your back you’ve never fought with before – hell, I know that firsthand myself! – but we don’t have a whole lot of choices, now do we?”
“Carl could fly the X-22,” Ellis said after a moment, a moment where no one said a word, “he helped design the damn thing, after all.”
Mark smiled. “Oh, Carl…I’ve no doubt you could fly that thing better than anyone in this room – on any other night but tonight.”
“And why do you say that?” Carl said, a smile on his face as he played along.
“Because you’ve never had two Ulterran fighters on your tail while racing into the needle of a canyon going 3,000 miles per hour and in slightly more gravity than we have here now. I have, and Bernarian ships are pretty damn similar to Ulterran ships, so I’m pretty confident I can ride its tail right into that hangar, allowing us to get in.”
There was a long pause in the room after Mark’s explanation, mainly because no one knew what he’d just said.
“It was gaining entry that always proved our downfall on the previous missions,” Carl finally said from the front row of men.
“He’s right,” Ellis agreed, “and if we can gain entry to that port hangar we’ll have access to those lower-level tube-tunnel controls.”
Mark nodded. “And that means we can send in the other teams to hit the bottom while we’re hitting the hell out of ‘em on the top.”
“A two front war,” Turn said.
“At least two battles,” Mark said, looking at him.
There was silence in the room as the men digested what they’d heard. No one objected, but then, no one really knew what to object to .
“That Bernarian ship’s coming in just after the witching hour tonight,” Mark said after another few moments had passed, looking at his father this time, “we better get moving.”
19 – Getting Equipped
The men had filtered into one of the hangars on the edge of the base’s airstrip, the one where the men’s arsenal had been laid out. Table upon table was stretched out before them, all manner of machine guns, grenade launchers, side arms and even knives shining under the lights.
“Listen,” Ellis said, stopping at the edge of one of the tables and waiting for the men to stop and turn back to him, “it’s gonna be rough in there – I’m not gonna lie to you. Before we–”
“We’ve been briefed on the particulars of the operation, sir,” Captain Sammy Williams said, giving him a straight look, not condescending at all, just plain and honest.
Ellis nodded. These men weren’t interested in the particulars, they wanted to know what they needed to get the job done, done as quickly as possible, and with the most efficiency and least amount of error. In that regard it was all a numbers game, and the best score at the end would be the humans whatever and the aliens none. Ellis gave a sideways smirk, both at the thought of not suffering a casualty – they’d already lost one in Montana, hadn’t they? – and the comment from Williams. But he nodded, and then flicked his chin forward, toward the table beside him.
“Those’re the headsets we’ll use,” he said, coming up to the devices just as Carl reached down to pick one up, “they’ll keep the team commanders in contact with their teams, and the commanders in contact with each other and the head command.”
“But soldiers can’t talk to soldiers, is that it?” Charlie asked, a bit of a laugh in his voice, although one that was taken rather quickly.
“Too much chatter,” Ellis said, “it’d drown out everything and you wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
“I’m fine with that,” Donlon said, pushing past Charlie, “but what I want to know more about is the hardware.”
Ellis nodded. It was no surprise the
“You men don’t know me, but I’m asking you to trust me. I know that’ll be hard, and that it’s always hard having someone at your back you’ve never fought with before – hell, I know that firsthand myself! – but we don’t have a whole lot of choices, now do we?”
“Carl could fly the X-22,” Ellis said after a moment, a moment where no one said a word, “he helped design the damn thing, after all.”
Mark smiled. “Oh, Carl…I’ve no doubt you could fly that thing better than anyone in this room – on any other night but tonight.”
“And why do you say that?” Carl said, a smile on his face as he played along.
“Because you’ve never had two Ulterran fighters on your tail while racing into the needle of a canyon going 3,000 miles per hour and in slightly more gravity than we have here now. I have, and Bernarian ships are pretty damn similar to Ulterran ships, so I’m pretty confident I can ride its tail right into that hangar, allowing us to get in.”
There was a long pause in the room after Mark’s explanation, mainly because no one knew what he’d just said.
“It was gaining entry that always proved our downfall on the previous missions,” Carl finally said from the front row of men.
“He’s right,” Ellis agreed, “and if we can gain entry to that port hangar we’ll have access to those lower-level tube-tunnel controls.”
Mark nodded. “And that means we can send in the other teams to hit the bottom while we’re hitting the hell out of ‘em on the top.”
“A two front war,” Turn said.
“At least two battles,” Mark said, looking at him.
There was silence in the room as the men digested what they’d heard. No one objected, but then, no one really knew what to object to .
“That Bernarian ship’s coming in just after the witching hour tonight,” Mark said after another few moments had passed, looking at his father this time, “we better get moving.”
19 – Getting Equipped
The men had filtered into one of the hangars on the edge of the base’s airstrip, the one where the men’s arsenal had been laid out. Table upon table was stretched out before them, all manner of machine guns, grenade launchers, side arms and even knives shining under the lights.
“Listen,” Ellis said, stopping at the edge of one of the tables and waiting for the men to stop and turn back to him, “it’s gonna be rough in there – I’m not gonna lie to you. Before we–”
“We’ve been briefed on the particulars of the operation, sir,” Captain Sammy Williams said, giving him a straight look, not condescending at all, just plain and honest.
Ellis nodded. These men weren’t interested in the particulars, they wanted to know what they needed to get the job done, done as quickly as possible, and with the most efficiency and least amount of error. In that regard it was all a numbers game, and the best score at the end would be the humans whatever and the aliens none. Ellis gave a sideways smirk, both at the thought of not suffering a casualty – they’d already lost one in Montana, hadn’t they? – and the comment from Williams. But he nodded, and then flicked his chin forward, toward the table beside him.
“Those’re the headsets we’ll use,” he said, coming up to the devices just as Carl reached down to pick one up, “they’ll keep the team commanders in contact with their teams, and the commanders in contact with each other and the head command.”
“But soldiers can’t talk to soldiers, is that it?” Charlie asked, a bit of a laugh in his voice, although one that was taken rather quickly.
“Too much chatter,” Ellis said, “it’d drown out everything and you wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
“I’m fine with that,” Donlon said, pushing past Charlie, “but what I want to know more about is the hardware.”
Ellis nodded. It was no surprise the
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