Your Highness.”
“Fourth platoon is at point Uniform,” came from its LT.
“Commander, I’ve got no action at X-ray, either coming or going,” the colonel reported. “As soon as your trucks arrive, I’ll displace two squads forward. I suggest that fourth do the same.”
“The trucks aren’t there yet?” Kris asked.
“Not in my line of sight.”
Kris tried them on net. Three privates reported that they were going as fast as they could but that the roads were a pot-holed mess.
The fourth private did not answer Kris’s call.
“Jack, you on net?” she asked.
“I’m at my target, about to go off net. I’ve got a cloak of invisibility that may help me out a bit.”
Cloak of invisibility? Kris shook her head; Jack would explain it when he wanted to. Right now, he might have a problem he wasn’t aware of.
“Jack, I’m not sure all our volunteers are on our side. One tried to gun me down here, and one of our truck convoys is not answering my calls.”
“I haven’t had any trouble with mine,” Jack replied. “But with Tilly leading the volunteers, a guy would have to be blind not to want to follow her.”
Why was Kris not surprised? It took a few seconds for Jack to continue. “But come to think about it, none of the three truck drivers I’ve got here are all that interested in following us. One of them in particular. Hey, guys,” Jack shouted, “have I got a deal for you.”
There was a roar of truck motors at the end of Kris’s street, and three trucks raced by, headed for Tranquility Road. Kris only got a quick glimpse, but it looked like the lead truck had a Marine slumped in the passenger seat.
“Jack, I think I just spotted our missing convoy, and it’s headed for Jackie.”
“I knew we should have done a full field security check on all those enthusiastic volunteers,” the Marine answered on net. “Looks like it’s time to play ball. Good luck, Kris.”
“Good luck to you, Jack.”
Kris blinked to change net. “First platoon, you are weapons free.”
12
Captain Jack Montoya, Royal U.S. Marines, waved his rifle for emphasis. “You drivers are going underground with me and mine.”
Two shrugged and went where Jack pointed them. One looked ready to make a break for it, but couldn’t break eye contact with the muzzle of Jack’s borrowed M-6.
With reluctant steps, he went.
A Marine was waiting at the nearest manhole, clearly unhappy to be the stay-behind guy. He motioned the drivers below, then gave Jack a plaintive look.
“Hold the fort here. Don’t let anyone steal our rides,” Jack ordered.
“Aye aye, Skipper,” the Marine answered, resigned to sucking it up and soldiering where he was told.
Jack had to hurry the truck drivers along. One in particular really needed encouragement. At the end of the first tunnel, the sewer got bigger around. A glowing green chem light pointed Jack right.
About a block later, another light pointed left down a tunnel big enough to stand upright in. Jack got ready to jog.
And the third truck driver stumbled, bounced off the wall, and grabbed his foot. “I think I sprang my ankle.”
Jack put two sleepy darts in his butt and waited a second for them to take effect. As he fell asleep, Jack made sure the reluctant dragon was faceup and at no risk of suffocating.
“Either of you want to join him?” he asked the others.
Those two took off at a fast enough run to satisfy Jack.
Another chem light pointed Jack up a smaller tunnel; he would bet money he was now under the rear parking lot and headed for the service entrance to the stadium.
It got crowded when he got to where a ladder led up. A few Marines kept order, but most of the folks down here were volunteers. “Make a hole,” Jack called.
The civilians that were slow to get out of the way got their feet stepped on by either Jack or the Marines directing traffic. Jack went up the ladder without slowing down.
He found himself in a working basement with brightly painted pipes
“Fourth platoon is at point Uniform,” came from its LT.
“Commander, I’ve got no action at X-ray, either coming or going,” the colonel reported. “As soon as your trucks arrive, I’ll displace two squads forward. I suggest that fourth do the same.”
“The trucks aren’t there yet?” Kris asked.
“Not in my line of sight.”
Kris tried them on net. Three privates reported that they were going as fast as they could but that the roads were a pot-holed mess.
The fourth private did not answer Kris’s call.
“Jack, you on net?” she asked.
“I’m at my target, about to go off net. I’ve got a cloak of invisibility that may help me out a bit.”
Cloak of invisibility? Kris shook her head; Jack would explain it when he wanted to. Right now, he might have a problem he wasn’t aware of.
“Jack, I’m not sure all our volunteers are on our side. One tried to gun me down here, and one of our truck convoys is not answering my calls.”
“I haven’t had any trouble with mine,” Jack replied. “But with Tilly leading the volunteers, a guy would have to be blind not to want to follow her.”
Why was Kris not surprised? It took a few seconds for Jack to continue. “But come to think about it, none of the three truck drivers I’ve got here are all that interested in following us. One of them in particular. Hey, guys,” Jack shouted, “have I got a deal for you.”
There was a roar of truck motors at the end of Kris’s street, and three trucks raced by, headed for Tranquility Road. Kris only got a quick glimpse, but it looked like the lead truck had a Marine slumped in the passenger seat.
“Jack, I think I just spotted our missing convoy, and it’s headed for Jackie.”
“I knew we should have done a full field security check on all those enthusiastic volunteers,” the Marine answered on net. “Looks like it’s time to play ball. Good luck, Kris.”
“Good luck to you, Jack.”
Kris blinked to change net. “First platoon, you are weapons free.”
12
Captain Jack Montoya, Royal U.S. Marines, waved his rifle for emphasis. “You drivers are going underground with me and mine.”
Two shrugged and went where Jack pointed them. One looked ready to make a break for it, but couldn’t break eye contact with the muzzle of Jack’s borrowed M-6.
With reluctant steps, he went.
A Marine was waiting at the nearest manhole, clearly unhappy to be the stay-behind guy. He motioned the drivers below, then gave Jack a plaintive look.
“Hold the fort here. Don’t let anyone steal our rides,” Jack ordered.
“Aye aye, Skipper,” the Marine answered, resigned to sucking it up and soldiering where he was told.
Jack had to hurry the truck drivers along. One in particular really needed encouragement. At the end of the first tunnel, the sewer got bigger around. A glowing green chem light pointed Jack right.
About a block later, another light pointed left down a tunnel big enough to stand upright in. Jack got ready to jog.
And the third truck driver stumbled, bounced off the wall, and grabbed his foot. “I think I sprang my ankle.”
Jack put two sleepy darts in his butt and waited a second for them to take effect. As he fell asleep, Jack made sure the reluctant dragon was faceup and at no risk of suffocating.
“Either of you want to join him?” he asked the others.
Those two took off at a fast enough run to satisfy Jack.
Another chem light pointed Jack up a smaller tunnel; he would bet money he was now under the rear parking lot and headed for the service entrance to the stadium.
It got crowded when he got to where a ladder led up. A few Marines kept order, but most of the folks down here were volunteers. “Make a hole,” Jack called.
The civilians that were slow to get out of the way got their feet stepped on by either Jack or the Marines directing traffic. Jack went up the ladder without slowing down.
He found himself in a working basement with brightly painted pipes
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