itself the main camp had been thoroughly destroyed, but the supergun valley appeared untouched. The blockhouse had been reoccupied and surrounded by extra defenses. Troops were dug in along the rim. Whoever was now in command knew just what they were doing and had the drive and energy to see it was done. What had been accomplished in such a short time was incredible.
Oshima! he thought to himself. He had hoped against hope that she had been killed in the original assault. Looking at the hornet's nest that had been created since the attack, he knew he had been wrong.
'Let's get out of this sweatbox, Zach,' he said, 'and you can give me the ten-cent version of who the 82 ^ nd operates these days. I grew up on World War Two stories where paratroops were always dropped in the wrong place and used guts instead of firepower to do the job.'
Carlson smiled. 'Well, some things have changed,' he said, 'but when you get right down to it LGOPS are still the secret.'
'Enlighten me,' said Fitzduane.
Al Lonsdale grinned. 'LGOPS – Little Groups Of Paratroopers,' he said.
'And that's it?' said Fitzduane.
'Airborne, sir!' said Carlson seriously. The reply cracked out.
Fitzduane nodded slowly.
Oshima had planned the takeover of the Devil's Footprint over many months.
From the beginning she had known that Diego Quintana would turn on her. In the end, she was surprised that he had acted so clumsily. Signaling his intentions as if he alone were the determinant of the outcome.
In truth, some of Quintana's complacency was justified. Oshima knew that directly superseding Quintana's rule over all of Tecuno state would not have been possible. Leaving out her terrorist background, she was Japanese, a woman, and not from Tecuno – three strikes against her. Accordingly, she had initially planned to work through her lover, Luis Barragan. That was a promising plan, but even before Barragan's untimely death it had been fairly certain it was not going to work. She held Barragan in sexual thrall, but even so, he remained loyal to Quintana.
Rejecting the option of working through Barragan and making a play for the whole state, it came to her that taking over only the plateau and the Devil's Footprint was the obvious alternative.
It was all that was necessary. She did not want to hold enemy territory permanently. She wanted to inflict as much damage as possible on America and return to Japan in triumph.
There were many who remembered the unforgivable insults of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Her achievements would not go unheralded. Yaibo would rise again. New recruits would flock to her. The myth of America's invulnerability would be punctured.
After killing Quintana, Oshima had worked furiously to consolidate her position. The steel supergun was aimed at Washington and ready to fire, but that would alert the Americans and provoke an immediate counterstrike. No, what was really required was a multiple-strike capability. Then the Americans would think twice before replying. With Washington hit and New York the next target, the American options would be seriously diminished. Destroying a terrorist base when the price was serious damage to your principal financial and commercial center was the kind of trade-off the American population would not accept.
So Oshima held her fire while her people worked frantically to erect two more of the special concrete weapons. The pipes had been cast months ago and the breeches constructed. Rheiman had said the concrete guns would work and thought she had despised the man, she had the utmost faith in his technical ability.
To be able to hit the capital of the United States of America and for the U.S. president to be unable to respond was a prospect that justified every risk. Now all she needed was time. The new weapons would take several more days to install fully.
Then, for all practical purposes, the Devil's Footprint would be invulnerable.
Carlson, back in full uniform, drove Fitzduane and Lonsdale the short distance over to First Brigade Headquarters. The building was an unpretentious two-story rectangular block with a basement. A short flight of steps led up to the main entrance.
Set into the floor as they entered was the slogan 'The Devils In Baggy Pants.'
Fitzduane stopped for a closer look. 'We got the name in World War Two,' said Carlson. 'So our target is well named.'
'It seems they're all over the place,' said Fitzduane. They turned left and followed Carlson down a corridor to a corner office, which ran out of floor space after a desk, a couple of stuffed chairs, and a mound of combat equipment had been squeezed in.
Carlson removed a Kevlar helmet from one of the armchairs and propped it on top of a filing cabinet. 'What are?' he said.
'Devils,' said Fitzduane and Lonsdale in unison.
A trooper brought in Cokes. Carlson took a slug, then sat back. He opened his mouth to speak and then paused.
'I feel a little stupid trying to explain Airborne doctrine to two guys who've been there,' he said eventually. 'Hell, you people jumped in there only a few days ago.'
'So we did,' said Fitzduane. He sounded almost surprised. 'But shoot and scoot is not the same as…'
'Jump and thump,' said Lonsdale helpfully.
'Quite so,' said Fitzduane. 'So assume we know nothing.'
'Or close to nothing,' said Lonsdale. 'Give or take a few details.'
Carlson shrugged. 'The first thing to understand is that modern airborne assault techniques have evolved a great deal.
'In the early days of the airborne a half century ago, paratroopers jumped and fought pretty much with what they carried. They had probably landed in the wrong place and were widely scattered. They had no close-air support, lousy communications, limited firepower, and no armor or artillery. They were light troops and their capabilities were limited. Even so, airborne training seemed to produce a particularly high caliber of combat soldier. The record speaks for itself. Paratroopers get the job done.
'An airborne assault today is a whole different ball game. It is force projection carrying with it lethal firepower of a vastly greater order of magnitude.
'The foundation is good intelligence. Today when we go in, thanks to satellite reconnaissance and other capability – including advance teams on the ground – we normally know everything we need to know about the enemy right down to his shoe size. Accurate and comprehensive intel is the rock on which we build.
'Next phase is to get together with the air force and try and make sure that every identified threat is neutralized before we show up. We're not trying to give the bad guys a fair fight. If they are all dead before we jump, that is just fine by us. The idea is to identify every defensive position, every radar, every enemy soldier with a missile, every form of opposition – and take out the lot of them before we go in. So every target is listed in advance and then allocated. Stealth fighters start the whole thing. Then, layer by layer, other elements in the package cut in and peel the defenses away. F16s follow the Stealth boys. A10s follow the F16s. Mostly smart weapons are used, so what we see is what we hit.
'We don't just kill the enemy. We blind him. Wild Weasels take out his radar. ECM-equipped aircraft and helicopters blanket the electronic spectrum and shut down his communications.
'Our window of maximum vulnerability is really just before we jump. Aircraft dropping paratroopers can't jink around. They've got to fly slow and steady. For that couple of minutes we are sitting ducks for triple A or some hotshot with a handheld missile.
'The good news is that A10s and C130 Spectre gunships act as our guardian angels during that window. The A10s can take out anything heavy. The gunships can deliver pinpoint fire. From three thousand feet up they can see and kill anything that moves. Higher up, JSTARS and AWACS watch the ground and air. Way low down, if we plan it right, Kiowa Warrior helicopter gunships hover out of sight. They have mast-mounted sights and high-magnification
