after all.
“No, I think you’ve actually convinced them this time,” Olsen said. If he had noticed David’s anger, he was pretending he hadn’t. “This isn’t some new probation or any of that crap. You’re being offered a full slot in the Resistance structure, no strings, and all the goodies that go along with it.”
“Funny,” David said, throwing a pointed look at all the crates making their way into Olsen’s helicopters. “I thought we’d already found ourselves a stack of goodies.”
“Oh, that you did,” Olsen said, his genial voice hardening just noticeably. “But if you’ll look closely, you might notice it’s mostly goodies you can’t use.”
He pointed to a pair of crates being manhandled into one of the Black Hawks. “That ammo, f’rinstance. Fits HK Gatlings. You have anything that caliber?”
“Probably,” David said stubbornly.
“Probably not,” Olsen countered. “Might figure out a way to adapt it to an A-10’s GAU-8, but it’d be real tricky. Be a lot simpler to just take out the GAU-8 and shove an HK Gatling in its place.” He raised his eyebrows. “You have any spare HK Gatlings lying around?”
“Our pilots don’t usually leave much worth salvaging,” David said with a touch of pride.
“True enough,” Olsen acknowledged. “ ’Course, even if you had one, swapping it out would take a heap of work and a crapload of equipment you probably don’t have. And as for the rest of the stuff…”
He looked back at Connor, a frown creasing his face.
“You really don’t know what you’ve got here, do you?”
“I only arrived just before you did, General,” Connor told him. “I haven’t had a chance to look around.”
“Then let me enlighten you,” Olsen said, his folksy manner suddenly gone. “This here wasn’t just a neighborhood-sweep staging area. It was that, too, but it wasn’t mostly that.” He waved a hand behind him. “This here was gearing up to be a brand spankin’ new maintenance center.”
Connor shifted his eyes over the general’s shoulder, an unpleasant tingle running through him.
No wonder Skynet had been so hell-bent on defending the place.
“Really,” he murmured.
“Really,” Olsen assured him. “And maybe not just maintenance, either. There are whole crateloads of electronics and minicomputers in there, plus some weapons we’re going to want to look into reverse-engineering. I could be wrong, but I’m guessing Skynet was planning a serious upgrade for pretty much everything it’s got in this sector. And all that was slated to happen right here.”
He smiled lopsidedly.
“Except you and your team have just single-handedly stopped it. You think Command’s going to be fussing over probation protocol?”
“I see your point,” Connor said.
“I would damn well hope so,” Olsen said. “They’ve got a base all picked out for you to move into—nice and big, well protected, and out of this mess that L.A.’s become.”
“Sounds enticing,” Connor said. “And the catch?”
Olsen shrugged. “You learn to take orders.” He grinned. “ ’Course they’re all
David snorted. But the sound was more thoughtful than resentful, and he was no longer glowering as he watched the crates being loaded aboard the Black Hawks.
“Okay, it’s a deal,” Connor told Olsen. “We’ll need to get the rest of our people back, and there’s some food and random equipment we left at our staging area.”
“Call the people; forget the clutter,” Olsen said briskly. “I got a report just before I landed that Skynet’s got more HKs burning their way up from San Diego. It is
“Understandable,” Connor said, flipping on his transmitter. “Barnes: get your squad together and bring it in, double-time. Don’t bother stopping by the staging area—we’re leaving whatever’s there behind.”
“Got it,” Barnes said briskly. “On our way.”
Connor flicked off the transmitter and turned to David.
“Go gather your squad and Tunney’s,” he told him. “We’ll be traveling—” He raised his eyebrows at Olsen.
“In my personal choppers, yes,” the general confirmed with a nod. “Oh, and I got another report on the way in. The other choppers have finished cleaning out the rest of your base, people, and whatever else they could load aboard. Soon’s we’re done here, we’re out.”
Connor nodded. “And double-time it,” he added to David.
The other nodded and moved off.
“What about our pilot?” Connor asked. “Last I heard she was being escorted out, but had been ordered to shut down her radio.”
Olsen nodded. “Security measure,” he said. “Our airstrip is still secret, and we’d like to keep it that way as long as we can.”
“Of course,” Connor said. “I just want to make sure she’s taken care of.”
“Oh, she will be,” Olsen promised. “We treat our pilots very well, and from what we saw tonight she’s definitely one hell of a pilot.” He shook his head. “One hell of a plane, too. That has got to be the damnedest patchwork job I’ve ever seen on an A-10. I’m surprised the thing’s still flying.
Whoever your mechanic is, he’s a wizard.”
“He is all that,” Connor agreed. “And before you ask, you can’t have him.”
Olsen grinned. “We’ll see. Anyway, like I said, we’re on tight numbers, so grab your people, grab your butt, and get all of it aboard the choppers.”
“Yes, sir.” Connor turned and started to walk away.
Olsen’s hand snaked out to touch his arm.
“You did good today, Connor,” he said quietly. “Right now, everyone knows that. But they’ll forget. People always forget.”
“That’s fine,” Connor said. “I’m not in this for the glory.”
“I know you’re not,” Olsen said. “I’m just saying that when the rest forget, don’t you forget, too.”
Connor gazed out at the quiet city around them. The city where so many people had died tonight.
“Don’t worry, General,” he said quietly. “I won’t forget. Ever.”
It took Kate a good half hour of work, plus nearly a third of the medicines and bandages in her field kit, to put Sergeant Orozco back together. But when she was finished, she had the satisfaction of seeing his eyes flicker open.
“Sergeant?” she called gently. “Sergeant Orozco? Can you hear me?”
The eyes closed, flickered again, and then opened all the way. For a long moment he stared up into her face, his forehead furrowed with questions or confusion or disbelief.
“It’s Kate Connor, Sergeant,” Kate said, wondering how much the morphine was fogging his brain. “We were here this morning.”
“I know,” Orozco said, his voice weak but with no signs of disorientation. “What are you doing here now?”
“We came to help,” Kate said. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.”
Slowly, Orozco turned his head, his eyes taking in the devastation and death around them.
“How many?” he asked.
Kate felt her stomach tighten.
“You’re the only one we’ve found alive.”
For a long moment Orozco lay silently. Kate watched him, wondering if he was going to slip off into unconsciousness again. Then, finally, he stirred.
“I’m not feeling much pain,” he said. “Morphine?”
Kate nodded. “I have more if you need it.”
“Maybe later,” he said. “What’s the damage?”
“Not as bad as it could have been,” Kate assured him. “You had a through-and-through in your upper left arm
