two days ago, a day before the nuclear attack on Santa Cruz. It had been hectic after that, with the Behemoths loaded onto the massive carriers and brought to Temecula under the greatest secrecy. A regular tank division now held the pass at Palm Springs, with heavy Militia and artillery support.
“Oh-oh,” Jose said.
“What’s wrong?” Stan hated to hear those words.
Jose pointed with the long neck of his beer bottle. “Here comes the Colonel. I wonder what we did wrong this time.”
Stan craned his neck, twisting around. Sure enough, Colonel Wilson headed straight for them with his long stride. The man’s uniform was perfect as always. Dust, sand, grime, oil, it didn’t matter. He was immaculate. Stan and Wilson had been staying out of each other’s way. Stan preferred it that way, but he knew it couldn’t last.
Putting the lip of the bottle to his mouth, Stan took a long swallow. He was dog-tired. They all were. Too much rested on their giant tanks. For once, America had the superior equipment. The trouble was there were only a handful of Behemoths to go around. Truthfully, they needed about two or three hundred, not the meager fifteen.
“Here we go,” Stan whispered. He put the bottle on the card table and stood up.
“Don’t take any of his crap,” Jose said.
Stan shook his head. “We’re all on the same side. Despite what we feel, you and I need to show him respect.”
“Why? He never shows us respect.”
“Look around you, my friend. The why is very easy to answer. We’re America’s last hope and we have to stand together.”
“Why don’t you tell him that?”
“Maybe I will,” Stan said. He waited, and he turned to face the Colonel.
Wilson walked up briskly, and said, “I need to talk to you.”
“Would you like to sit down, sir? Jose, are there any more beers?”
Wilson shook his head. “No. I don’t drink.”
Stan kept a grimace off his face. He should have known.
“I’d like to speak with you alone, Captain.”
“Yes, sir.”
Wilson stood there for a moment. It seemed he didn’t know what to do. He glanced at the little barking dog behind the picket fence. He shook his head and then pointed down the opposite street.
“That way, if you please,” the Colonel said.
Stan frowned. This wasn’t like the man. Usually, he just rapped out what he wanted to say and left, or he sent Stan on his way. What was this about?
Stan followed Wilson. They walked in silence, passing an odd mixture of perfect homes and others shredded from Chinese bombs. Suddenly, the Colonel spun around and he glared at Stan.
“We’ve had our differences,” Wilson blurted.
“Yes, sir, I’d say that’s true.”
“Damnit, soldier, I don’t want—” Wilson cut himself off and glared at the street.
Stan raised an eyebrow.
Wilson looked back up. “I’ve spoken with General Larson. We’re going to lead the assault all the way down to Escondido if we have to.”
“We, sir?”
“The Behemoth tanks, man. Surely, you must know what I’m talking about.”
Stan shook his head.
Wilson glared at him, and he seemed to become angrier the longer he looked at Stan. At last, in seeming exasperation, the Colonel threw his hands into the air.
“I can’t do it,” Wilson said.
“What is that, sir?”
“You’re making this too difficult for me.”
“Colonel, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Wilson blew out his cheeks, turned around, took three steps away and then spun back to face Stan. “You’re a Medal of Honor recipient.”
“Yes?”
“You’ve faced the Chinese before and you’ve beaten them.”
“Well, that’s not exactly what happened, sir. What I did—”
“You outsmarted them.”
“I suppose that’s one way to look at it.”
“Captain, what General Larson is demanding—no, this doesn’t originate with him. It’s from much higher up the chain of command. In any case, using our Behemoths to lead the assault down to Escondido is the wrong way to use our tanks. They’re good at long-ranged combat. The force cannons, it’s their specialty picking off the enemy before they’re anywhere near the range of their weapons.”
“I agree with you.”
“Now we’re supposed to lead the charge into rugged terrain, to try to break through to our trapped Army Group.” Wilson shook his head. “It’s suicide for us and I don’t know what to do.”
“Meaning what exactly, sir? I’m not sure I follow you.”
“You’re a bastard, Captain Higgins. I’m trying to apologize to you, damnit.”
Stan blinked in wonderment. “Apologize to me, sir?”
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
“Yes, you did, sir.”
“You’re the combat expert among us. There’s never been any doubt about that.”
“Ah…you’re a wizard on the technical aspect of the tanks, sir.”
“That’s not what we’re talking about here. Captain, the Chinese are beating us. Look at what happened up north in Santa Cruz. We used nukes in an attempt to balance the situation. We actually annihilated one of our own cities. It’s unimaginable.”
“The Chinese used electromagnetic pulse missiles on us, sir. I’d say we’re striking them back tit-for- tat.”
Wilson shook his head. “None of that matters to us here. I need a tactical solution that will save our tanks and give the chain of command what it’s asking from us. I don’t like you, Captain. But I can’t worry about that anymore. The Chinese have invaded our country. I don’t always get the choice of who stands beside me. Well, you stood against them before and beat them. I would be a fool to waste that asset in my command. I want your battle cunning, Higgins. More than that, your country needs your brilliance and insight once more. Will you help me?”
Stan turned away. “I don’t know that I have anything particularly brilliant to add, sir.”
“Then you’d better start thinking. You’d better give me a tactical solution to using our Behemoths in rugged terrain and in an urban environment. We have a day to prepare. Time is running out. Army Group SoCal is dying on the vine. They no longer have the power to dig out of their encirclement.”
“You’re right, sir.”
“Use the historical acumen stored in that undisciplined brain of yours. Give me something to work with.”
Stan faced the Colonel. “I’ll try my best, sir.”
“No, Captain Higgins. I don’t care anything about
Stan nodded. He could live by that philosophy.
“Do we understand one another?” Wilson asked.
“We do, sir, and thank you.”
Wilson nodded the barest fraction. “That will be all, Captain. Carry on.”
Stan turned around and headed back for the Behemoth, his mind awhirl with ideas.
Marshal Nung buttoned his uniform. He had new brass buttons, bigger than normal. It took a good shove with his thumb to force them through the cloth slots. This was the best he’d felt since the unfortunate mixture of tranks and amphetamines.
