might come to Duda’s defense. Show weakness and command might break down.
Shepherd carefully removed his hat and set it atop the map.
“I’m going to give you that one, Benny, because I know how much Garrett meant to you. But so help me to God if I hear you say anything along those lines again, I’m going to drop you.”
Benny appeared ready to speak. His lips moved.
Woody “Bear” Ross growled, “Benny-shut it.”
The line that Shepherd could see so clearly a second before faded.
Casey jumped in, “What we need right now are SITREPS from each of you on your unit’s operational readiness. You’ve got two hours to report back here. Think about how close those units are and how quickly they can be assembled here.”
Shepherd kept his eyes locked on Benny Duda’s. The kid finally glanced away as Shep spoke, “We have to hit hard and fast. I’m not so much worried about arty but armor and vehicles are priority. Now let’s move.”
“Sir,” Ross interrupted as the briefing dispersed, “I haven’t got a unit. Still waiting on the Excalibur, sir.”
It seemed to Shep that Ross emphasized sir so as to emphasize his loyalty. He must have seen that line, too.
“You do now,” Casey Fink put a hand on one of Ross’ strong shoulders. “Marty Blue’s staff car was hit by an air strike this morning. 4 ^ th Mech is yours. Welcome to 3 ^ rd Corp, General Ross.”
Shepherd replaced the cowboy hat on his head and approached a water cooler on one end of the open tent. Ross and Casey began discussing the particulars of his new assignment with all sorts of paperwork to review; Duda sort of sulked, Cassy Simms examined the map.
Far overhead in the clear blue sky of mid-morning, a black and brown bird made its final circle over the camp. The Humvees and ambulances and squads of marching infantry and forklifts pushing along supply crates took no notice of the airborne voyeur.
No one watched as it stopped circling and flew toward the wooded picnic and camping area a few hundred feet to the southeast along the river bank. The strange, large bird dove toward hard and furious, its wings pulled taut against its body.
Faster and faster it fell not like a bird, but a missile. Its beak sunk into its skull in a mechanical, contracting motion. Its neck puffed thicker as if reinforced from within. And still it fell toward the Earth at a speed surpassing the natural pull of gravity.
Feathers-first one, then another, then in clumps-flaked away and fluttered in the wind. The ground came closer and closer; the creature continued to gain speed faster and faster.
What remained of its beak broke away revealing a shiny metal stake that glinted in the sunlight. The feathers fell off in fistfuls until-as it crashed through the tree tops-nothing remained of its avian costume. Instead, a cone- shaped metal vessel broke tree limbs and burrowed into the ground between two thick roots blasting dirt in a quiet explosion. Only its top end-a metal cylinder lined with pulsing emerald veins-remained above the surface.
The head of the cylinder rotated a half-turn and a small iris opened in its center. A second later, a sack exploded out in a gush from the container as if it were a dashboard airbag deploying in a crashing vehicle. The contents inside the brown and gray sack writhed and squirmed as the proper activation and growing sequence gave them mass and purpose.
Red lights glowed from inside the sack. Those lights pushed against their confinement like a horrific litter demanding to be born.
Jon Brewer exited the front of the mansion with his wife, Lori, at his side. He carried a briefcase and walked with the intention of boarding an Eagle transport waiting on the nearby landing pad. Around them, several K9s patrolled the grounds, guards stood ready at the main gate, a well-armed Humvee eased along the drive way, and Omar Nehru marched to meet them.
“What is this? I thought we were meeting?”
“Change of plans, Omar. You’ve got to come with me out to Pittsburgh.”
The group congregated on the lawn.
“Pittsburgh? I cannot be going to Pittsburgh. What of Anita?”
Lori assured, “I’ll keep an eye on her and we’ll put a nurse in the house twenty-four hours. I promise.”
“I don’t want promises,” Omar objected. “I am not going to Pittsburgh!”
“Look, Omar,” Jon struggled to keep understanding in his voice. “Brett pulled the Hercules in. He’s scavenging engine parts and anti-grav generators from it to shoehorn into the Excalibur.”
Omar angrily shot, “I have told Mr. Stanton not to do this on a number of occasions! The Excalibur’s anti- gravity generators were first-generation. The Hercules has a different type of generator! The two are not compatible and could create a dangerous electromagnetic feedback across the entire system!”
Jon insisted, “Brett says he’s worked that out. But I need you to eyeball it to see if he’s right.”
Omar threw his eyes to the heavens in frustration. The first thing he noticed was that the birds Anita watched all morning had flown off. He did not know why, but that bothered him. Perhaps because it meant Anita had lost a source of entertainment.
Lori broke in, “Listen, Omar, I’ve got to have you give Stanton’s work the okay before I release about five tons worth of supplies and a couple hundred personnel for duty on the Excalibur. Otherwise those supplies will go somewhere else.”
One of the K9 sentries barked. The sound grabbed their attention.
The animal-a German Shepherd-stood on the far side of the Eagle transport facing the northern fence and the thick woods beyond. As they watched, a second then a third dog joined the first, all three staring north.
Two human handlers walking the grounds as well as the guards at the main entrance also took notice. The Humvee that gently rolled up and down the driveway halted and the gunner in the copula swung his. 50 caliber northward.
“What is wrong with them?” Lori asked.
The dogs kept barking. Very agitated.
A sound rose above the barks. A hum. An electronic hum growing louder and louder.
“What is that?” Jon reached to his wife’s shoulder. “Look, get inside. You too, Omar…”
Lights flickered in the woods; red and yellow lights as if a mob of flashlights worked in the forest, sending flashes between the trees.
The humming grew louder-louder…the dogs barked.
“Security!”
Jon’s call brought the two policemen-like guards from the front gate to their side. The pair of handlers also drew weapons. The soldier in the Humvee pulled the bolt on his heavy machine gun. More dogs came from across the grounds to face the northern fence.
Jon’s touch on his wife’s shoulder turned into a strong grip.
“Inside. Now.”
The lights grew brighter and took form; spheres of light-spheres of red and yellow…
“Run!”
They came from the forest like bullets, flying over the fence and onto the estate grounds: a dozen softball- sized suns with flames of red and yellow dancing on their surface. Each generated a screaming hum that sounded like alarms announcing their arrival.
A red one slammed into the nose cone of the waiting Eagle transport. It exploded with the force of an artillery shell breaking apart the cabin and throwing the mortally-wounded pilot onto the lawn along with a shower of metal and glass and burning circuitry.
The handlers pulled pistols and shot at the attackers. Human guards let fly 3-round bursts from automatic rifles, the dogs yapped and jumped-one collided with a yellow ball that popped like a water balloon. The dog disintegrated into patches of fur and bones as the instantly-corrosive acid contents of the weapon covered the K9’s body. The gunner onboard the Humvee joined the fray with a fierce volley of high caliber bullets…
Ashley snapped the paperback shut and leapt to her feet as Gordon directed his motorized wheelchair into the center of his information hub.
The voice on the Internal Security band made no mistake: something attacked the estate; an observation further confirmed by the pop-pop-pop of distant gunfire.
“…repeat, this is front gate, we need back up! Man down! Man down! Oh, Christ-“