Greenies

'Are you sure he's dead?' West cut in.

'I'm sure,' Callahan squeaked as another stream of SAW fire slammed into his rock. 'Some of the men checked on him after he stopped transmitting. But anyway...'

'How'd he get it?' West asked. 'Was it those fucking mortars?'

'Uh... no, sir, it was bullets, probably SAW fire during the last advance. Took him in the head. Look, sir, we're pinned down here on the side of the hill, just above the base. We've taken heavy casualties and the Martians have reinforced their position. They have two SAWs and at least eight M-24s up there now. We need some more people up here if we're going to make it up that hill.'

'No can do, Callahan,' West told him. 'Bravo and Delta Companies are taking heavy fire in the center of the hill and Alpha is pinned down just like you are.'

'Uh... sir,' Callahan said carefully, through clenched teeth, 'aren't Bravo and Delta just a diversionary force to make the Martians think we're attacking the center? They're not meant to go up the hill until its secured, right?'

'Well... no,' West said. 'But they are keeping the bulk of the greenies occupied while your company and Alpha Company advance on the flanks. If I start shifting forces from the center they might figure out we're planning to take the hill from the flanks.'

An explosion boomed ten meters to Callahan's right as a fragmentation grenade launched from a Martian M- 24 detonated over the top of one of his squads. Two of his men rolled lifelessly down the hill. Another simply slumped over. 'I think they've already figured that out, sir,' he said. 'They have at least one grenade launcher up there and they're starting to use it.'

'Grenade launchers? Hmmm. Sounds serious.'

Another one came flying in, air-bursting over yet another squad of marines, killing two more. 'Yes, sir,' Callahan said. 'I'd say it's pretty fuckin' serious. If we don't get some reinforcements over here in the next five minutes we're gonna have to pull back!'

'There will be no retreat from this hill, Callahan!' West barked at him. 'Do you understand that? No retreat! I will not have it be known that my battalion ran away from a bunch of greenies!'

'Then get me some more men over here, sir!' Callahan yelled back. 'If you don't, your whole battalion will be dead! We need to get up that hill and stop this fire!'

'Valentine, man the eighty!' Sanchez ordered. 'Command reports the marines are reinforcing the units on this flanks. At least two platoons heading this way!'

'What about the tanks?' Zen asked as another laser shot slammed into their barrier, burning through another section of their rapidly crumbling defensive emplacement with enough energy left over to peel a layer off the front of their turret.

'Fuck the tanks!' Sanchez replied. 'Our job is to protect the infantry, not ourselves. Those platoons will have to pass right through that open area at two o'clock. Get some fire on them when they do. I'll man the twenty and rake up any stragglers.'

'Fuck my ass,' Zen said, popping off one last tank and then abandoning his laser cannons. He switched his control set up to the main eighty-millimeter gun, checking to make sure a round was in it. He looked toward the two o'clock position, a small open area about one hundred meters wide and tried to ignore the dozens of tanks and APCs that were still trying to kill them. He had never wanted to be away from any place as much as he wanted to be away from this deathtrap right now.

He had lost count of how many WestHem tanks he'd killed in the last fifteen minutes. The entire battle so far had been a mad, endless, terrifying stream of explosions and flashes, of covering tanks with his recticle and firing, of watching turrets flying into the air, of hearing Xenia cry out the damage being inflicted on their barricade and their tank, of hearing the reports of other tanks being destroyed or damaged when the overwhelming fire against them managed to burn through and hit in just the right place. Of the sixteen tanks of their unit, four had been annihilated with all hands. He supposed that wasn't a bad ratio since their unit was responsible for the destruction of at least seventy marine main battle tanks — their burned out carcasses were everywhere on the battlefield — but the knowledge that he might annihilated at any second, flash-fried by a laser burn-through or, even worse, blown to pieces by detonating ammunition — weighed heavy on him.

There was a clank as Sanchez used his load button to jack the first twenty-millimeter round into the externally mounted cannon. It was belt-fed from a compartment on the outside of the turret. The weapon was fired with remote control from inside by means of a camera/infrared system although the actual gun could be physically reached through the commander's hatch in the event of a jam.

'Artillery coming down out there,' Sanchez reported, unnecessarily since Zen could see it as well. 'Mortar fire too. They must have them in sight.'

'They stopped firing at us,' Xenia said. 'Did you notice? Since we stopped shooting at them they must think we're dead.'

'Let 'em think that,' Zen said.

'The illusion will only last until we open fire on their dismounts,' Sanchez said. 'So enjoy it while it lasts. Xenia, I want you to put us up just long enough to take a few shots. Get back in the hull down position the second I tell you to. Remember, our turret will be exposed to direct fire from the marine MBTs while we're up.'

'Got it,' she said.

'And remember,' put in Zen, 'we're sittin' in the fuckin' turret.'

'No shit,' she said testily. 'You put the fire on the marines and I'll get you back down.'

The mortars and artillery rounds continued to explode in the open area without let-up, flying in in volleys. It was a strangely beautiful sight if you could forget that people were being blown to pieces by it — people who were intent on killing their comrades up on the hill.

'I've got movement over there,' Sanchez said. 'On the far side, by those rocky mounds.'

Zen looked in that direction and saw two and then three biosuited figures crouched low near the rocks, probably evaluating the terrain before moving on. 'Should we hit them now?' he asked. 'Keep them pinned in there?'

'We're not here to pin them in anywhere,' Sanchez said. 'We're here to kill as many of them as possible. We'll wait until they're making the dash.'

'Right,' Zen said.

They saw the marines waving their hands forward. They then rushed out into the open area, trotting in that clumsy, awkward way Earthlings had. Ten then twenty than thirty then forty appeared behind them, their grouping nothing like an actual formation, more like a bunch of guys who were in a panic as they tried to get out of a killing zone.

'All right, do it, Xenia,' Sanchez order. 'Get us up there.'

'Moving,' she said, her hands going to the controls. She backed up six meters, turned to the right a bit, and then moved forward, bringing the tank up a shallow berm on the side of their position.

'Fire as soon as you can get the gun on the them,' Sanchez told Zen.

'Bet your ass, sarge,' he replied, staring fixedly at his gunnery screen. Slowly the view began to match what he was seeing from the laser turret camera. His targeting recticle appeared and he moved it to the center of the running troops and pushed the range button. 'That's good, Xenia,' he said. 'I got 'em.'

She stopped, her hands ready to pull them back down the second she was told.

'Getting range,' Zen said, more to himself than anyone else. 'Got it. Computer, set round for airburst, one, one, zero, zero meters.'

'Set,' the computer replied.

'Firing,' he said, pushing the button on his console. There was boom as the round was fired and the tank rocked backwards on its treads. The shell streaked out and exploded in the midst of a group of soldiers halfway across the open area. When the flash cleared they were all on the ground, many of them in pieces.

As the automatic loading system ejected the spent shell casing and rolled another into the breech, Sanchez opened up with the twenty millimeter, raking it across other groups of exposed marines. Zen, who was watching the screen and looking for the best place to put his next shot, saw that the marines hit by these rounds weren't just falling down with a little blood boiling out of their wounds. They were being blown apart, arms, legs, heads flying free, some cut in half, some exploding as their air tanks were hit, their blood boiling out of their bodies like geysers.