“Fancy hardware aside, you people are just auxiliaries. Nothing more than a paramilitary police force. Darling, why don’t you go back over there and play with your toys. We’ll figure out something for your people to do later.”
Even back in her liberal college activist days, Sophie didn’t have much patience for inaction. She whipped out some orders from her shoulder pocket and slammed them on top of his map. “I suggest you talk with your headquarters to figure out what’s going on, Captain. Sacramento demands full cooperation. Don’t worry; I’m only providing “guidance” for your combat operations. You’re still in charge. We’re here to help turn the tide. Are we really going to have a problem because of my gender?”
The first sergeant answered while his officer tried to digest the commanding general’s signature. Under normal circumstances, the grumpy old enlisted man would be going ballistic over such a challenge. After two days of constant contact with the enemy and not a second of sleep, he found it difficult to manage the outrage the other soldiers expected.
“None of us give a shit about what’s between your legs. It’s what little you’ve got between your ears that worries me.”
Kampbell just shrugged and pulled out a tablet computer.
“Funny, because they sent me to be your balls. Now see if you can follow me. This falling back, this retreating? That ends now. We lose this city and not only does the counterattack fail, but our entire southern flank will crumble. The Feds will just roll up our lines and wipe the whole army out. That’s why the Fedefucks are finally committing their strategic reserve right here. Not against the air assault guys behind their lines, but against you and me. Now, in the next hour, an armored cavalry regiment from the First Armored Division will hit this side of town. At 92 % combat strength, they’re a relatively fresh unit. They’ll have direct fire support from most of their division’s artillery, including MLRS. If the Feds punch a hole in our defenses here, two more fresh mechanized brigades are waiting a few miles behind them to exploit the gap. I’m sending you updated overlays of their objectives and timetables now.”
Jessica whistled, but no one paid her any attention. She worked hard to build reliable sources on both sides, but didn’t have half the information this amateur tossed around. The regular army captain was even more shocked. “How the hell do you possibly know all this? Our recon, both tactical and from corps, pegs the enemy buildup as a mere diversion. Brigade strength, at worst.”
Sophie put her custom-fitted ACH helmet back on. “We have different funding, so naturally different intelligence assets as well. Look, none of this shit matters right now, gentlemen. The enemy is coming and we need to disperse ourselves. We need to push our defensive line forward, not dig in deeper. Their artillery has a habit of pounding any large concentration of troops into dust.”
“Exactly why we’re going to stand fast, Kampbell. Our prepared positions offer the best chance to resist.”
“Sir, I didn’t go to War College. Honestly, I studied environmental policy, but even I know that plan is bullshit. We’ve seen it happen too often already in this war. You’ll hunker down while their artillery suppresses the hell out of you all. You won’t be able to fight back effectively and the Feds will just encircle and surround you. However, if we advance at the last minute, they won’t be able to adapt in time. Hitting them when they’re expecting us to be sitting still will throw off all their battle calculus. That’s the best chance at surprise we’re going to get.”
A junior officer stoked the fire some more. “Well, sir, she has something of a point. An attack of this size would have been carefully planned and ordered into action hours ago. Lots of moving parts scattered all over the place. It’ll be too complicated for the enemy to change things on the fly. Less risky to just push forward and hope for the best. I’ve worked up in the operations office at headquarters. I know how senior staffers think. Especially when deploying artillery. They’ll stick to their pre-planned fire missions even if the target area is empty of enemy forces. Easier than coordinating with a hundred different units and changing the whole ballet at the last second.”
The captain glared at his executive officer. His driver broke the tension. “Sir, battalion is on the horn. New orders for the company,” he pointed the radio mike at Sophie, “but I guess you know the details already.”
While the captain lost himself arguing over the radio, Sophie and the rest of the men stood in suffocating silence. Eventually, Sophie sighed and chuckled. “Fellas, we’re all on the same side. First Sergeant, the enemy’s coming with a shit-load of armor. How you guys fixed for anti-tank missiles?”
The first sergeant could not believe her gall. “We’ve got one long-range Javelin and two short-ranged AT-4’s per squad, plus the TOW’s on the Bradley fighting vehicles. If you think I’m giving even one to damn civilians, no matter how famous, then you’re out of your mind!”
Sophie whistled at her platoon. Several men trotted over and dumped some odd weapons on the Humvee’s hood. “Boys, I don’t want to take your toys. I just wanted to share mine. Has anyone here ever used an RPG-30?”
The company XO gawked at the peculiar double-tubed rocket launchers. These were some of the most advanced rocket propelled grenades in the world. Most terrifying, to enemy vehicles, each fired a decoy round ahead of the main warhead. Any active or passive defense systems would engage the simulator first and not have time to stop the live penetrator following half a second behind. “Where the hell did you get these? Military intelligence says the Russians never finished the project. These are supposed to still be experimental!"
Sophie shrugged. “Just because the Russian research labs are a little cash-strapped doesn’t mean a good idea should go to waste. Do you want some or not?”
The XO licked his lips in excitement. “This is a game changer! How many can you spare?”
Sophie pulled out a hand receipt. Even out here on the brink of battle, you couldn’t escape the paperwork. “Sign here and they’re all yours. I’ve got twenty more back in the tracks for my team. Happy hunting!”
The first sergeant smacked Sophie on the back of the vest and nearly sent her sprawling to the ground. She fought back the urge to stab him and just rolled with the compliment.
“You’re my type of soldier, Group Leader. Sorry about everything I said. It’s a pleasure to fight alongside you. Now,” he hefted one of the launchers and shouted at his drooling men, “let’s get to work killing some of those fascist commies!”
Despite that nonsensical accusation, every soldier hooted and snatched up a weapon. Jessica grimly noted that by this point in the war, after months of killing followed by revenge killing followed by retaliation killing… no one ever asked why anymore. Only how.
Two bloody hours later, the URA unit had used up all those pricey rockets. As well as half their personnel. The Freedom Brigades squirted off a few missiles of their own, but not many. They spent the whole battle sitting in an overwatch position half a mile behind the fighting. “In reserve,” the annoyed captain called it. Since the unit refused to share their COMSEC, the daily-changing radio encryption codes, she had no way to speak to him directly.
As expected, hundreds of federal artillery rounds and several airstrikes slammed their empty fortifications another mile behind them. Nonetheless, the sheer size of the enemy force was grinding down her professional cousins. Sophie could see dismounts recovering into the surviving friendly vehicles ahead. Not a good sign. The regular military was falling back.
Sophie’s training was surprisingly narrow. Six months ago, she was a typical pissed off teenager. Even after her radicalization and meteoric rise in the Brigades, she was only a gifted amateur. She didn’t know much about proper radio procedures and even less about the intricacies of managing a maneuvering unit. On the other hand, she had learned a thing or two about motivating people. Kampbell clicked her mike and got to work. “Everyone listen up. I don’t know what the hell’s happening up there, but looks like our people are chickening out. We are not going to let that happen.”