''Yes, sir!'' the New Jerusalem officer said … and just managed to suppress a salute.
When he did nothing further, Cortez gave him a fish eye.
''Ah, yes, sir, ah, you want me to go do it now?'' the captain stuttered in his excitement and confusion.
''If I wanted it tomorrow, I'd have told you tomorrow.''
''Yes, sir. Yessir.'' Again, he just barely avoided saluting Cortez before running off for his command.
''You think he'll remember his orders, sir?'' Zhukov asked.
''They were simple enough. And I'm sure a good XO will drop by to help him remember, is that not so?''
''Definitely, sir.''
''First and Third Companies will be the main force. Mount half your troops in the available trucks. Have them keep their rifles ready and their eyes peeled for anything in the water or along the swamp beside us. Understood?''
''Yes, sir,'' came from both captains.
''Sawyer, your Third Company will advance first. I will keep my command rig with you.''
''Yes, sir. My troops will lay down their lives for the command tabernacle,'' came out sounding catechism rote.
Cortez didn't much care for the defeatist undertones, but he let it go with a wave of his hand. Certainly, he would find more important lessons to teach this man today.
''Captain Afonin, your company will be the rear guard. Keep well back. If there is an ambush out there, I don't want us to make it easy for them to get all of us in it. If they spring an ambush on us, you spread out and take them on the flank. If we get past the ambush and they snap it on you, I will do the same.''
Captain Afonin eyed the two New Jerusalem company commanders, seemed to find little weight in the prospects of their coming to his rescue, but let the conclusion pass unstated and just nodded. ''Stay spread out, eyes open, and rifles locked and cocked, sir. No problem.''
''Good, then let's do it.''
The Guard officers turned to go about their duty, as did Captain Sawyer. The youngest captain seemed taken back. ''Aren't we going to end in prayer?'' he stammered.
''God help the poor fool that tries to take a bite out of us,'' Major Zhukov said. ''That enough for you, ‘cause it's about all I got time for.'' Eyes wide, the young captain hastened to catch up with Captain Sawyer.
His officers sent on their way to do his bidding, Cortez boarded his command rig. Settled comfortably, he studied the lay of the land ahead. After a full two minutes, he decided that the disorganized milling about outside did not meet with his satisfaction. He only had to shout once to get the first psalm-singing company dogs trotting out to reinforce the mine-clearance team.
Five minutes later, Sawyer's company was ready to move out. The Fusilier corporal driving Cortez's command vehicle slid it easily into the lead of that truck line.
Cortez pulled his helmet down over his eyes and prepared to receive whatever was coming his way.
24
Captain Jack Montoya, only recent to the Royal USMC, sat on a box, and stared into the cool darkness of the cave. The young boy of about ten who showed it to him first had proudly introduced it as his ''fort.''
Before today, it had protected the kid from nothing worse than the noon sun … and his parents' sudden list of midday chores. Its main advantage had been its closeness to a swimming hole. Until this morning, that the tunnel's entrance was well hidden in the root ball of a broom tree had not been a concern.
It was now.
Jack wondered why so much of Panda got dug. Then one of the young men who'd joined him spotted something at his feet and kicked it aside. A local mole or gopher or some such digging critter left such things behind when it dug. The local got kind of coy as to whether it was the sweat of the thing, or its vomit or poop or whatever. Still, if it came in contact with some bacteria in the soil, what came of it all was an ugly, smelly black wad that pharmaceutical companies and perfumeries paid good money for. It financed a major chunk of this colony.
That money source, coupled with the local's laid-back way of farming, was a main reason why folks didn't mind if their kids spent a lot of free time digging. And Jack had to agree; he'd never met a boy who didn't like messing around in dirt.
Jack stared into the darkness to better see the picture being painted on his eyeball. A tiny nano buzzed on the far side of the swamp, its picture relayed by a series of tight-beams that had, at least until now, apparently passed unnoticed by the armed mob halted at the south end of the causeway.
There was no question that Princess Kris of Wardhaven had many failings, but once again, her inveterate addiction to fancy gadgets was coming in handy. Certainly, it was giving Jack a leg up on whoever it was over there. The hostiles looked to be reduced to the Mark I eyeball and Mark I, mod 0 ear.
Unfortunately, they appeared to be connected to a quite canny version 1.0 human brain. Colonel Cortez had smelled the ambush … and called a stop to his advance.
Still, he hadn't done anything, such as lobbing a rocket at Marine sniper nests, mortaring Jack's local reserves, or otherwise reacting to Jack's deployment. Apparently neither Cortez's eyeballs nor Thorpe's overhead sensors had given away Jack's defensive array. Cortez could smell the danger in this place but couldn't put his finger on any specific targets.
And, fortunately for Jack and his troops, Cortez did not appear to have a whole lot of spare ammunition to use blasting away at anyplace that looked like a good target.
Not for the first time, Jack said a silent prayer to whoever sent these folks out to grab what they thought was easy prey. Not that what Jack had seen of the locals gave him any impression that, absent outside help, they would have gone happily along with whatever these Cortez and Thorpe guys were selling.
The farmers and craftsmen Jack had met since landing liked the hand they'd dealt themselves and had been doing a fair job of organizing matters to put things back the way they liked. A few were none too happy to have helpful Marines drop out of the sky.
Jack remembered where he'd parked the landers and intended to march right back onto them just as quickly as he could.
He hoped Kris did not have other plans. Having been thrown, run, or ushered off of a half dozen planets in the last couple of years, she should be used to the idea of helping folks out, then getting out of their way … very, very quickly.
Oops, matters are finally getting organized over there.
Jack hadn't really needed those two idiots saluting what had to be the lead officer. The guy hung around the only rig painted green and with enough cubic volume to be a command vehicle. If that wasn't Cortez, it was his evil twin.
Jack had seriously considered changing the battle plan when he concluded he had a solid ID on Colonel Cortez. Still, Kris had been against turning this into a bloodbath if it could be avoided. Jack held to Kris's plan. Colonel Cortez would live to see this evening's sunset. If he didn't fall and break his neck.
Now everyone was running, jogging, or trotting. Jack held his breath and waited to see if Cortez had stayed within the decision box Kris's command group was betting on.
One company-size force moved onto the causeway at double time. They halted where the crude effort at mine clearing had come to an end. More local hostages were pushed ahead of them. Yep, mine clearing would be done the old-fashioned way, human foot by human foot. Gunny had warned about that possibility. So much for the old rules of civilized war.
Jack reached into his jacket pocket and removed the little box with the bright red button. At present, it was safely protected by a plastic cover. Jack left the cover on. It looked to be about an hour before he would need it.