Greenies

Rosewood seemed deep in a troubled thought. 'Gravely,' he asked, 'what the hell would greenie troops want to attack this base for? Why would they risk the casualties it would produce?'

'I don't know, sir,' Gravely answered. 'I only responded to the information that...'

'Holy shit,' Rosewood interrupted. 'The ships in dock!'

'Excuse me, sir?' Gravely didn't see what that had to do with anything.

'Jesus. Mars and Earth are now nearly as far apart as they can get. Whenever that happens we move a large portion of our ships to Triad in case of trouble with the EastHems during this time. We have fifteen Owls and nine Californias in dock right now in addition to the pre-positioned container ships and all of the escorts. All of the personnel that man those ships are on this base right now. If they can take the base, they can deny us nearly a third of our naval forces. A third!'

Gravely stared blankly. 'You don't really think...' he started.

'Why the hell else would they be attacking us?' Rosewood asked. 'Your precautions should be enough to stop them, I hope, but send the TIRT to the dock entrances in case the Martians break out. I'm gonna have the crews report to their ships and scramble the fuck off of this base until this thing is settled. But you need to give me some time to do that and you need to allow ship personnel through the check points. Can you instruct the computers to do that?'

'Yes sir,' he replied. 'But it'll take a couple of minutes.'

'Get moving on it. And call up all off duty MPs and have them report to either the docks or the gates.'

'Yes sir. Should I...'

Alarms blared in the room, making everyone peer at their terminals.

'What the hell was that?' Rosewood asked.

Gravely looked at his screen and paled. 'Sir,' he told the admiral, 'the tunnel doors into the base have just been breached.'

'Which one?'

'All of them,' he answered, fighting back panic. 'At almost the same instant.'

'Are your men in place?' Rosewood demanded, catching a little of the panic.

He consulted his screen briefly. 'No sir. Most of them are still trying to get through the checkpoints. I have fifty men spread around the three tunnels with the heaviest concentration at the main.'

'Shit,' Rosewood said. 'I hope that's enough.'

Like before, most of the action took place at the main entrance. The primacord was detonated and a large hole was blown in the door. The MPG troops were deployed well back from the entrance, backs against the tunnel wall, bodies against the floor. The minute that the door was breached, automatic weapons fire began pouring in from the MPs stationed outside. Most of the shots simply ricocheted harmlessly off of the walls but some of them found their marks in the crowded tunnel. It was inevitable. Cries of 'Medic!' began echoing over the tactical net.

The MPG machine gunners opened up, pouring fire through the hole as did the troops who's M-24s were equipped with grenade launchers. Their fire was marginal at best since they couldn't really see their targets too well, but some of the bullets found their marks and some of the grenades caused injury or death by exploding luckily near a deployed MP. Still the MPGs knew the same thing that the WestHem marines down in Eden had found out the hard way. They were vulnerable in the tunnel since they were pinned into a narrow corridor. Here the difference that kept them from being routed out and pushed back to the loading platform was the fact that the doors were not completely missing. There was still solid steel to either side of the hole that had been blasted, allowing cover and a firing position for a limited amount of soldiers. Using this small place of safety to best advantage, men were stationed there to keep the approaches clear of MPs. But still, it quickly became clear that an easy break out was simply not in the cards. There were too many MPs out there and, though they didn't have combat goggles or combat computer support, they were able to lay down a field of fire that was accurate and concentrated enough to make a casualty out of anyone who tried to push out. The invasion of the base would not take place as planned right here.

At the south freight tunnel things were going easier. Once the door was breached the fire was sporadic and light from the opposition on the other side. They had not had a chance to deploy in any significant numbers. The special forces platoons that made up bravo company pushed forward to the entrance and poured machine gun fire and grenades out into the deployed MPs with much greater accuracy and effect. Squads began to pour through the hole into the freight storage and unloading platform beyond it. Here the training that they had been engaging in on the inside of the MPG base — training that they had not understood while they were undertaking it — began to make sense and show its effectiveness in the fight. Like a well-oiled machine, man after man passed through the doorway and rolled either to the left or the right, their eyes searching to acquire targets, their hands and arms adjusting their rifles and than firing at muzzle-flashes and moving figures. There were some casualties taken of course but the sheer speed with which they exited the tunnel kept them to a minimum.

Lon and his men were part of the second group through the door. They spit up into two elements, half moving to the left, half to the right. Lon and the four men with him concentrated their fire on a group of three MPs that were hiding behind an electric forklift and sniping at the men emerging from the tunnel. Lon sent three of his men further right to flank them as he and private Matza on the SAW provided covering fire. The flanking maneuver worked admirably and soon the three MPs were gunned efficiently down with a combination of grenades and automatic weapons fire. From that point on the tunnel exit was clear and Lon's squad moved off to the right flank to help silence the rest of the opposition. The remaining MPs that they encountered began to throw down their weapons and surrender. Each of them were handcuffed with the plastic ties and put down on the ground.

In all, it took less than ten minutes before the loading platform was secure and a beachhead of sorts was established. Medics were brought forward to care for the wounded Martians and, when the time was found, the wounded MPs as well. Major Shaw, who had been lingering in the rear of the column during the firefight, came forward and surveyed the first section of the Triad Naval Base to come under MPG occupation.

'Good job,' he told the men. 'Now let's push onward. You know your objectives so let's go secure them before they have a chance to gear up to a real defensive posture.'

They spit into two elements and headed for the two large corridors at the far end of the platform, corridors that led further into the bowels of the base. The doors guarding them had slammed shut and locked in response to the red zebra condition. Teams went to work putting primacord on them.

Before they had a chance to blow the doors however, Shaw got a vital update on the other elements of the battle. The north freight tunnel, which alpha company was assigned to, had been breached and its entrance station captured with only three killed and four wounded. At Shaw's direction they too began preparing to move further into the base towards their own objective: the docking complexes and the ships that were at anchor there.

But Charlie and Delta companies, in charge of breaching the main gate in the center, had a different story to tell.

'We're pinned down in the tunnel,' Captain Evers, the commander in charge of this force told Shaw over the radio net. In the background he could hear the chatter of weapons fire and the hollow booms of explosions. 'We won't be able to break out without taking heavy casualties. And every minute we wait, more MPs show up.'

'How bad are casualties so far?' Shaw asked him.

'Twelve wounded, six dead.'

'Hang tight for a few,' Shaw ordered. 'I'm gonna send you some help. Wait for my order and then initiate the breakout.'

'Copy,' Evers replied.

Though the situation Evers found himself in was bad, it was not something that had been unanticipated. 'Armand!' Shaw barked into the air, not bothering to use the radio since the object of his yell was standing less then ten meters away.

'Sir?' responded Armand, the commander of Bravo company, as he trotted over.

'Break loose a squad with a hundred meters of primacord and one SAW. We need to flank the MPs on the main entrance before Charlie and Delta can break out. Have them go weapons free by the quickest route and stand by. I'm gonna send a squad from Alpha over to hit the north flank too. Who would be squad leader you're sending?'

Armand thought for a moment. 'I'll send the third squad from second platoon,' he said. 'Sergeant Fargo.'