«Sure,» agreed Keene, easily. «But would they give up Schockoe Bottom?»
Mueller thought about that one. «Possibly,» he finally answered. «I would have to say probably.» The area was half deserted, with only a few businesses and the bars that supplied the local forces with beverages surviving the economic blight.
«On every other planet the Posleen have invaded for the past hundred and fifty years, all the wealth, the production wealth, is in the megascrapers,» Keene pointed out. «The Galactics have their factories built right into them. So, the Posleen are expected to go for our skyscrapers; if it's low, it's less of a target to them.
«So when they land near Richmond, from any direction, they're going to head for the city center. Now, Richmond should have been evacuated by then. The city engineer can bitch all he wants, but CONARC has designated the inner cities as the defense zones, screw the suburbs.
«So, using techniques as yet undetermined, we will lure the Posleen forward from every direction, but all the roads will lead to Schockoe Bottom and none of them will lead out. The tough part, the heavy engineering part, will be making sure that, one, they can only get to Schockoe Bottom and, two, they can't get back out.»
«Posleen check in . . .» said Mueller with a growing smile.
« . . . but they don't check out. You got it. I want to go look at those heights across the way . . .»
«That's Libby Hill. It was next on the agenda.»
«But first I want to get a better look at the Bottom. It would be good if we could set up some sort of direct-fire positions into the pocket. I was thinking of firing from across the river, but maybe we could build a berm.»
«What's wrong with the Wall?» asked Mueller, puzzled. «Besides wracking stress. Can't we just backfill?»
«What wall?» asked the puzzled engineer.
* * *
John Keene looked up at the thirty feet of reinforced concrete that made up the mile-long Richmond floodwall and grinned like a teenager. «Oh, man,» he said, gesturing at the Army Corps of Engineers heraldic device, a two-turreted castle, on the face, «are the Posties ever going to learn to hate that symbol.»
For the next two hours he and Mueller walked around the floodwall, Schockoe Bottom and the surrounding area, occasionally driving when something in the distance caught their fancy. Finally they stood in Mosby Park, on Mosby Hill, where a group of children from a nearby preschool played under the careful tutelage of elderly teachers. As Keene looked down his mind was filled with visions of fire.
«We can just pack the back side of this hill with those stubby tube artillery things . . .»
«Do you mean mortars?» asked Mueller, chuckling.
«Yeah, them. Do you know they have more killing power than much larger artillery?» Keene continued animatedly.
«Um, yeah. I knew that.»
«It's because they don't need as heavy a casing.»
«I know, sir.»
«Right. Anyway. We block off exit from the pocket on this side by rubbling those abandoned factories down there and piling the rubble from the wall to this hill.»
«Got it,» said Mueller, sketching a diagram on his AID.
«On the other side, it's not as good but we have plenty of time and concrete. We'll build a wall connector from the Ethyl Corporation Hill to the wall. Then continue around the terrain of the city, basically down Canal to Twelfth then over to Thirteenth then along the streets to 95.»
«Good,» Mueller commented.
«Why good?»
«That leaves the Richbrau in the perimeter.»
«Yeah,» laughed Keene, «I hadn't thought of that.»
«Well, we just would have had to change the perimeter.»
«Right,» laughed Keene again. Then he looked puzzled. «Hey, why are we in the Crowne Plaza instead of the Berkley Hotel? It's right next door to the Richbrau.»
«Hardy Boys.»
«What?»
«Cyberpunks. They got there first. One of the laws of SpecOps: never mix Cybers and SF, it just doesn't work.»
«What the hell are Cyberpunks doing in Richmond?»
« . . . and never ask Cybers what they're doing anywhere.»
«Oh.» Keene shook his head and returned to the business at hand. «The perimeter will be as follows: 95 to the Franklin exit. Block all entrances into the city. Use all the buildings for direct fire into the pocket. Continue up Thirteenth then cut across to Twelfth at Cary down to Byrd. The old power station is outside, the Federal Reserve and Riverfront Plaza are inside. Maintain the defenses up to around Belvedere Street where it gets carried down to the river and necked off with the only real wall we're going to have to build.
«Whatever direction the Posleen come from, all roads leading to Schockoe Bottom are open and all roads leading elsewhere are closed. Pack the back side of the wall with troops, pack the skyscrapers with troops, all of them firing into the pocket. Artillery and mortars on the heights. If they're only on the north side, we can pack artillery on the south side of the James River and pound them all day long.
«God,» John paused for a moment, eyes practically glowing, «it's going to be glorious.»
«Just remember,» Mueller cautioned, «no plan survives contact with the enemy.»
«What?» asked Keene, confused.
«They never told you that in Tennessee?»
«No. Why is that?»
«It's sort of a military axiom,» explained Mueller, watching the afternoon traffic build early. «The other side wants to win too, so they try to figure out how to defeat your plan. Although that's less of a problem with Posleen than with humans. And then there are all the little things you didn't think of. There are changes in orders that don't take into account the real situation. There are bad communications that lead to actions like Pickett's Charge. Lee said 'Don't charge' and the message was received 'Charge.' There's the 'fog of war,' making decisions on the basis of what you think is reality when in fact it is not.
«Anyway, you construct your plan and really internalize it, but you also construct alternative plans in case that one goes awry. If your primary plan is internalized, but not really expected to succeed perfectly, you can devise changes on the fly. And then you construct your GOTH Plan.»
«A Goth Plan?» asked Keene again, shaking his head at the pessimistic outlook of soldiers. «What? As in getting overrun by Goths?»
«Not 'Goth' as in 'Hun,' 'GOTH' as in G-O-T-H. Your Go-To-Hell plan. Your plan when all your other plans have gone to hell and the wolf is at the door. Your, 'They died with their boots on' plan.»
«Oh.»
«So what's the GOTH plan?»
«I don't know,» answered Keene, musing on the landscape below. «I don't plan for failure very well.»
«Then somebody fucked up saying you're a defense expert. 'Expect success, plan for failure' is right up there with 'on dangerous ground maneuver, on deadly ground fight' as a military axiom.»
«The only military axioms I was aware of before the Planetary Defense Center program were 'never volunteer for anything' and 'never get involved in a land war in Asia.' «
«Well, now you know,» Mueller fiddled his fingers and wrinkled his brow with a grin, «um, three more.»
Keene chuckled as Mueller's AID chirped.
«Sergeant Mueller.»
«Yes, AID?» Mueller said with a smile.
«Five Posleen globes have just exited hyperspace in near-Earth orbit. TERDEF analysis calls for landings in approximately three hours.» The voice was so toneless that the facts took a moment to sink in.
«What?» Mueller's eyes momentarily went round and his skin flushed with a cold sweat. He involuntarily looked up, then shook himself thinking the action was futile. Even as he mentally started to berate himself there was a sudden flash of light in the cloudless sky. The detonation of an antimatter reactor was clear even in bright sunlight.