to get a rough count of the force composition against him and trying to identify each position that held enemy troops. As he identified and counted each position he made notations on his map screen, updating the schematic with the concentrations and locations. Soon his tactical map was filled with red marks to go along with the blue marks of friendly forces. Since all of their combat computers were data linked, this information showed up on everyone's map.
'Let's send off this data to Eden,' he said when he was done. 'Jeffy, we got a line of sight?'
'I can still lock onto 11-C from here,' he answered from his position on the other hill.
'Good. Get it done. And let them know we'll be moving in closer and setting up to ambush. We'll hit them when they start sending out patrols.'
Back at MPG headquarters General Jackson now had a pretty clear idea of the forces that had so far landed on the planet. Reports had come in from all of the special forces teams that had been deployed which allowed him to update the maps with solid intelligence figures. As far as he knew, none of the special forces teams had been detected by the enemy. None had been engaged anyway.
Jackson directed his computer to initiate a conference with Laura Whiting, who was in her own office four kilometers away. The link up took less than thirty seconds to accomplish. If anything, Laura looked even more fatigued than Jackson himself.
'What do we have, Kevin?' she asked him, stifling a yawn.
'Reports are in from the recon elements at all sites,' he told her. 'We have approximately twenty thousand enemy troops landed, approximately one thousand of them deployed. Battalion strength at each of the landing zones, making a perimeter and digging in according to standard doctrine. No heavy weapons, armor, or hovers have been spotted as of yet. My guess is that those will come down in the second wave.'
'So they're vulnerable right now?' she asked.
'I plan to make them vulnerable every second they're on our planet,' he answered. 'But yes, they are about as defenseless as they'll ever get right now. If we had a couple of battalions of tanks out there we could destroy their beachheads in less than an hour.'
'But we don't,' she said.
'No,' he said with a sigh. 'We don't. That's why they land all the way out there after all. Anyway, we do have platoon strength special forces teams at each LZ and more on the way. Mortar teams have just deployed from each of the cities. They should be on the ground within the hour and able to make attacks thirty minutes after that. They will be utilizing shoot and scoot methods. They'll lob some shells into the Earthling perimeter and then pack up and deploy somewhere else and do it again. Before that happens though I expect some of our fire teams out there will start getting on the scoreboard. The Earthlings will be sending out patrols soon.'
'It sounds like you have things well in hand,' she said. 'Why don't you try to get a little sleep? You look like shit and you'll need to be refreshed when the rest of the troops come down.'
'I'll catch a few after the first attacks are carried out,' he told her. 'I don't think I'll be able to turn my mind off until I know that things are working out there.' He smiled a little. 'I would suggest that you catch a few hours though. You look like someone who's had a few too many cups of coffee.'
'I'll make you a deal,' she told him. 'I'll sleep when you sleep.'
He laughed. 'Deal,' he told her. 'I'll keep you updated as things start to happen here.'
It was now three and a half hours since the landing ship had come down. Lieutenant Callahan was standing atop of his hill and surveying the work that his platoon had accomplished. All along the top of the hills around them, trenches had been dug to a depth of 1.5 meters. The rocky soil that had been extracted from these holes had been placed into sandbags that now lined the front of each position. The material of each sandbag was reinforced with Kevlar material, which, thought not impervious to high velocity rounds, would, when coupled with the dirt inside and the other layer of Kevlar on the back, prevent them from penetrating through into the hole. They would also stand up quite well to mortar fire in the unlikely event that the greenies managed to throw some at them. Mounted between two sets of the sandbags in each position was one of the squad automatic weapons. Other firing ports for the smaller M-24s had also been constructed. The positions were by the book and very formidable. By staying within them Callahan's single platoon could find off an entire company of greenies provided that they didn't have tank or hover support.
'Not bad, guys,' he told his men on the command channel. 'This almost looks like a fighting position.'
'Yeah,' said Stinson, who was manning one of the SAWs, 'and I used up a quarter of my fuckin air supply digging it. Talk about a waste of oxygen.'
'Well, it's true that we probably won't get much use out of them,' Callahan said with feigned sympathy. 'But they sure do look pretty. Has anyone taken a picture of them yet? You can impress your grandkids later on. Show them the holes you got to dig on Mars.'
There were some dutiful chuckles at his words, but not many.
'What now?' asked Sergeant Mallory, who was sitting on an ammunition box and cradling his rifle.
'I'm real glad you asked that,' Callahan said. 'Real glad indeed.'
A chorus of groans met his words. The men hated it when he talked like that. Experience had taught them that something unpleasant would soon follow.
'Now, let's not get our panties in a bunch, gentlemen,' he said, leaning against one of the sandbag walls and looking at his men. 'Its not all that bad, we just have to follow doctrine to the letter. Mallory, I need you to take three men and make a patrol of the area.'
'Ahhh man,' Mallory said. 'We gotta go walkin around out on this abortion of a planet?'
'Yeah, LT,' Stinson put in. 'Can't we just not do it and say we did? There ain't nothing out there but a bunch of fuckin rocks and this goddamned dust.'
'That ain't no shit, LT,' another of the men put in. 'I think we've seen all there is to see right here.'
'And you are undoubtedly correct, my good men,' Callahan told them, 'but doctrine is doctrine. Think of it as training for if we ever have to fight a real war.'
The sound of thirty-eight sighs came over the radio set.
'All right,' Mallory said, standing up and hefting his weapon. 'You heard the lieutenant. Zimmerman, Spanky, Trower, you just volunteered. Grab your weapons and lets get to it.'
The three men who had been chosen slowly rose to their feet and grabbed their own weapons.
'Take them out at least two klicks to the north,' Callahan said. 'You don't have to pretend we're securing a position in Salta or anything, but do at least check around all the hills out there. Its theoretically possible that the greenies made a lucky guess and landed a few recon elements out here before we came down.'
'How the hell could they have done that?'
'Lucky guess, like I said. After all, our fearless leader up on the command ship told them what cities we were going to be landing at. They might've put people out at the likely places.'
'You don't really believe that do you, LT?' Mallory asked.
'No, of course not, but it is within the realm of possibility, isn't it? So go out there and put our minds at ease. It shouldn't take more than hour, right?'
'I guess not,' he sighed, climbing out of the trench. 'All right, boys. Lock and load and lets go look at some more rocks and hills. Spanky, you take the point.'
'Right,' Spanky said. 'I'm on the point.'
'Let's switch down to sub tach channel Charlie.'
They all switched their radio frequencies so that their chatter during the patrol would not bleed onto the main tactical channel.
'Be back in an hour,' Mallory told Callahan on the main channel. 'How about having some hot food for us?'
'You got it,' Callahan said with a grin. 'I'll throw a couple of beers on ice too.'
'You do that,' he said and then turned towards his patrol mates. 'Okay, lets get this shit over with. Spanky, lead us off. Check the hills as we go.'
They all climbed out of the trench and began to make their way down to the bottom of the hill on the north side. Before they even made it ten steps Zimmerman overbalanced and went tumbling all the way down.
'Shit,' Callahan said, shaking his head slowly. 'I hope those fuckin greenies give it up soon before we all break our goddamn legs.'
Lon and his squad had moved 700 meters closer to the WestHem positions on the north side of the landing
