Andrews snorted. “You’re becoming a real pistol these days, Lieutenant—a little of the big guy rubbing off on you?”
“Don’t know—haven’t really seen him much over the past few days,” she replied.
“Is someone feeling a little twitchy?” Cobar asked.
“I was actually trying to go for another joke, Sergeant.”
Andrews put a hand on her shoulder. “You know how it is, sis. Protocol, procedures, etcetera. Not sure I can arrange some snuggle time, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“I get it, sir. I’m cool, really,” Leona said. “At least with that. As far as you hanging over my shoulder when I execute another route change? That’s something else.”
“All right, all right,” Andrews said. “I’ll let you guys get back to it. Sorry for the interruption.”
“Hey, it could be the beginning of something historic,” Cobar said, and from the tone of his voice, Andrews could tell the man felt the same excitement he did. “It kind of quickens the pulse in the middle of all this dreary stuff we have to do in the meantime, right?”
Andrews was impressed. “Quickens the pulse? Wow, Sergeant Cobar. I didn’t realize you were that deep—to think we were just trading fart jokes a minute ago. Is Sergeant Slattery going to start quoting Hamlet next? Do I need to get ready for that?”
“He might quote lines from Toy Story Seven. He is into that,” Cobar said. “A little leftover from his childhood—which hasn’t ended yet.”
“I did notice his voice hasn’t changed either, so you may be right about that.” Andrews leaned forward and did a scan of the instrument panel. Everything was set, from the front-office view. Anything deeper would be up on KC’s displays, and she would absolutely hit the ground running if there was an issue somewhere else in the rig.
“Okay, lady and lady. I’ll catch you all later. Lee, thanks for letting me hang onto your coattails, and sorry if it rubbed you the wrong way. You know it wasn’t intentional. I’m just stoked, I guess.”
“We’re good here,” Leona said. “You should get back to your rack time, sir.”
“Sir, is it?”
“You are my commanding officer, but if it makes you feel better … get back to your rack time, jerkoff.”
Andrews laughed. “Yeah, there it is—the Mulligan Factor coming into effect!”
“Continued exposure can result in some contamination. Now, if we’re done, I really do need to get back to my job.”
“We’re done. Good night, guys. See you in a couple of hours.”
“Good night, Mike,” Leona said.
CHAPTER SIX
The SCEV continued on its northerly heading for a day before they came within range of the turn toward the San Francisco Bay Area. Andrews worked on the plot himself, poring over the maps to determine the best available approach that would allow them to launch the octocopter drone in the rig’s mission equipment pod to take a survey of the city itself. He had considered launching it at its maximum recovery range, which would still give it a good twenty minutes of surveillance time before it had to be recovered. During that time, the rig would have to remain parked on station. While it was definitely possible for the drone to return to the rig even after it had moved out of position after launch, Andrews didn’t want to risk any mishap. They had only one drone, and losing it would impair their ability to perform their primary mission.
Once he was satisfied with the plot and that they could get close enough to San Francisco to conduct the secondary task General Benchley had handed off to Mulligan, he called for the rig to come to a halt so he could brief the crew. Those who were in their racks were awakened, and while Andrews felt bad about interrupting whatever sleep they could get, everyone had to be informed. He preferred to do it all in one fell swoop as opposed to piecemeal.
“So am I going to get another fifteen minutes of rack time?” Jordello asked when she entered the second compartment, followed by Cobar.
“Is there an emergency?” Cobar asked. He seemed less frustrated and more worried about the sudden stop and summons. “Is there something wrong?”
Andrews looked around the assemblage. With the full crew in the second compartment, things were crowded. Fortunately, Mulligan was sitting in the dinette. Otherwise, he would have had to turn himself into a pretzel to fit in the small space that was left for standing room. Leona sat beside the big Green Beret, and whereas Mulligan’s large hands were clasped before him on the table, hers were nowhere to be seen. Andrews almost laughed at the thought that Mulligan might be getting a quickie hand job.
As if sensing his thought, Mulligan cocked his head and smirked up at Andrews, who snorted and turned to the flat-screen display behind him, which showed the route navigational update he had crafted.
“Nothing’s wrong, Patricio,” Andrews told Cobar. “The reason I’ve called everyone out is that we’ve been given a secondary task that’s not in the movement orders. This comes directly from the top, and it’s not really an official order ... but I’m inclined to try to carry it out.”
“Sounds mysterious,” Leona said.
“Sounds stupid,” Kelly quipped. “I’m losing my last fifteen minutes of sleep for this?”
Laird waved her to silence. “Hold on, here. We have a tasking but it’s not in the orders? I’m a little lost. This something you know about, Sarmajor?”
Mulligan sighed and nodded. “Yup.”
Laird rolled his eyes. “Jesus H. Christ. Don’t tell me—more Old Guard intrigue?”
Mulligan gave Laird a blank stare. “I’m sorry, Captain. You said not to tell you, but that did sound like you asked a question. Should I consider it to be rhetorical?”
“Dude, what the hell is going on?” Laird asked Andrews through clenched teeth.
“Quick aerial recce of a section of San Francisco. We’re not going to go into the city itself, but we have to get close enough to launch the drone and recover it.”
“We’ve been in the Bay Area for almost a year now,” Laird said. “There’ve already been several recons of SF and Oakland and pretty much the entire Santa Clara Valley. What’s so special about us doing a one-off now? We’re on a run. Isn’t Three heading this way in a couple of weeks? Let them do it.”
“Granted, but we have the tasking and we can’t really communicate a request that it be deferred back to Harmony.”
Laird crossed his arms. “So is it official or not? If it’s official, why isn’t it in the tasking order?”
“It’s something that I would term as ‘semi-official,’” Andrews said.
“Good God, Mike. Just get on with it,” Jordello said with a sigh.
“It comes from Benchley directly,” Mulligan announced. “Through me, actually. But that’s what makes it difficult to ignore.”
Laird suddenly spread his hands and accidentally hit KC in the head. “Oh hey, sorry!”
“It’s pretty tight quarters in here, sir,” KC said.
“Right, right. Anyway, I don’t get why it’s not an official tasking. He’s the commanding general. He can put the stuff he wants us to do in the actual tasking order. Then we won’t have to call a town hall meeting to discuss it.”
“Captain, this is a matter of quid pro quo,” Mulligan said, and Andrews thought he felt the old, chilly ghost version of the command sergeant major rise once again. “The general would like us to take a scan of a specific address and the surrounding environs. His son, daughter-in-law, and grandchild were thought to be in the area at the time of the attack. General Benchley would like some closure. That’s why he asked, and since he helped me, I ran it by Captain Andrews to see if it’s something we can accommodate.”
Laird considered that silently then looked back at Andrews. “And can we?”
Andrews nodded. “We can. It’ll cost us about six hours of maneuvering and flight time, but that should be about it.”
“But San Francisco took an airburst and a groundburst,” Leona said. “We’ve already had some distant re
cce. Benchley has to know what happened to his people, right?”
“He needs to see it,” Mulligan said quietly. “He’ll never be able to lay them to rest, so this is the closest thing he’ll ever get to being with them in their last moment.” The big man sighed and leaned back in the dinette a bit. “Listen, this is a request borne out of emotion, not logic. At the end of the day, it’s just another old man who’s maybe lived too long with pain and regret he’ll never get past.”
“That doesn’t sound like the general,” Slattery said.
“How he comports himself in front of the people of Harmony Base is a bit different from how he acts when no one’s looking, son.”
“So why not just formalize it?” Kelly asked.
“Because it would have to undergo command group review, and there’s no compelling reason to make us deviate to do the recon,” Andrews said. “At least, that’s the best I can come up with.”
Mulligan nodded. “That’s probably about it. Benchley wants to keep it under the radar. We’re not supposed to be attending to non-mission specific tasks, but I’d think it’s probably advisable for us to do this one, anyway.”
“Oh, of course you would,” Kelly said. She ran a hand through her blond hair, her face a mask of irritation.
Andrews wondered what it was about Mulligan that got under her skin so easily. He was the conveyance of Benchley’s request, but that was all he’d done. That Kelly would be actively giving a sergeant major shit for doing a major general’s bidding was going a bit too far. Andrews glanced over at Leona. She regarded Kelly with an expression devoid of any outward emotion, but there was something else in her eyes.
Whoa, Lee’s getting pissed. The last thing he needed was for the Ice Queen of the Teams to thaw out during their biggest run to date.
Andrews spread his hands. “Guys, this isn’t a big reach here. Let’s just get it done. It’s not going to mess up our schedule appreciably, right?”
“It might not mess up your schedule, but it’s gonna add six-plus hours to mine,” Laird said.
“Captain, if I may …” Cobar was standing at the edge of the group, behind Laird, leaning against the airlock door across from the engineering station. “I’m good to go with whatever you decide. But someone needs to be working up front, so if it’s all right with you ...?” He looked up at Laird as the bigger man turned toward him.
“Traitor. I’ll remember this,” Laird said, and it was hard to tell if he was teasing or not.
Cobar smiled thinly. “It was always a goal to remain forever memorable to you.”
“Patricio, thanks—you’re free to return to your duty station.” Andrews looked back at the rest of the group as the slender engineer wended his way back into the cockpit. “All right, team. I can make this an order, but I’d rather have everyone’s buy-in, or at least get a majority consensus here. What’s it going to be?”
Kelly examined the faces of her teammates then threw her hands in the air. “For God’s sake, let’s just get it done with. Can I go back to sleep now?”
“Do it,” Leona said. “Who knows—something might turn up.”
“Thinking the general’s kid is still going to be alive, LT?” Slattery asked.
Leona shook her head. “No. Not a chance. But maybe other people are moving into the area. Lots of potential resources in the city. It’s too hot to support human life, but maybe people are moving in and out. We might be able to tell.”
Slattery shrugged. “Yeah, well, I doubt that. But it doesn’t matter to me, either, Captain. I mean, no problem doing the general a solid, you know?”
“We should probably do it, sirs,” KC said. “It’s kind of on the way, so ...”
“I curse you all for delaying my gratification in securing a new vehicle,” Laird said. He nodded to Andrews. “All right, Cochise. Let’s roll.”
“Sarmajor, I’ll presume you’re good to go with it,” Andrews said.
“Actually, I’m not.”
A thrill of surprise went through the assemblage, and Laird turned to the hulking NCO with a broad grin.
“Are you going to buck the system here, old man?” He actually rubbed his hands together.
“Are you going to paint the name Pussy Wagon on the side of your shiny new SCEV, Captain?” Mulligan replied, his voice its characteristic deadpan.
Laird grunted then pointed at Mulligan while looking at Andrews. “Sorry, I misspoke. I’m with him!”
Andrews spread his hands again. “Mulligan, what gives?”
“It’s an unnecessary risk, sir. We have a hell of an important mission before us, and there’ll be plenty of opportunities for action and adventure and general fuckups on the way up as well as the way home. Benchley knows this, and just to be sure, I explained it to him before we rolled. He’s not insistent that it happen. I obviously understand his feelings here, and I do owe him one. But I don’t think it’s fair for him to ask you folks to join in on the fun. Yes, we have some opportunity to do what he’d like to be done, but it’s not an official order. We can and should decline.”
Leona looked at him curiously. “Scott? Are you serious?”
“Yes, ma’am. Our core mission needs to come first.”
“Goddamn, Sarmajor—to think I was about to hit the rack and miss all of this,” Kelly said.
“There’s nothing to miss. The decision’s already been made, ma’am.” Mulligan looked up at Andrews. “Not trying to make this any more complex than it already is, Captain. But the truth is, if you want to roll away from this one, you’re well within your rights to do so.”
Andrews’s initial confusion gave way to sudden understanding. Mulligan was giving him a way out by quoting regulatory scripture that even Benchley was bound to uphold. While Andrews didn’t feel there would be any reprisals for continuing his given mission, he had witnessed firsthand what Benchley did for Mulligan. While the pain and agony had been the command sergeant major’s to shoulder, others had made sacrifices to see it through, including the post commanding general. Andrews couldn’t see himself walking away from trying to make things a little easier for the Old Man, especially in such a low-risk circumstance.
“I get it, Mulligan. But if it’s all the same, we’ll roll onto the new course and see this through. It’ll be quick. If there’s any indication we can’t get it done, we’ll resume our course and complete our mission.”
Kelly made a choking sound. “Oh, you total ass-kisser.”
That must have hit Laird the wrong way, because he said, “Hit the rack, Jordello. I think we’ve taken this one as far as it has to go.”
“Thanks, Jim,” Andrews said. “All right, folks, thanks for the input. Off-duty personnel, you’re free to go. On-duty, get back to it. I’ll send the course to the nav management system, and we’re done for now.”
The group broke up, with Kelly, KC, and Leona heading for the sleeping compartment. Laird returned to the cockpit, where he would take right seat as Cobar piloted the rig, and Slattery made for the engineer’s station. Andrews and Mulligan were still on the sleep schedule, but Andrews wanted to review the course one final time before uploading it to the rig’s navigational computers. He exchanged a nod with Mulligan as the big man pushed himself away from the dinette, and damn if Mulligan didn’t actually give him a wink.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The devastation that had been inflicted on San Francisco and the northern Bay Area was as complete and irreversible as anything Andrews had ever seen.
The video relay from the eight-rotored unmanned aerial vehicle the crew had launched was broadcast on one of the displays in the second compartment, and most of the crew crowded around it and watched as the drone flitted over the northern expanse of the city. The rig had come to a halt outside of Oakland, near the remnants of the Oakland Zoo and Knowland Park. The East Bay area hadn’t escaped intact, either. Andrews had seen the steady devastation outside the viewports when the rig came to a halt, and the interferometers placed across the rig’s armored hide h
ad revealed that the entire area was still quite radioactive. Most of Oakland had burned to cinders, though wild vegetation was making a surprise comeback as a variety of grasses, vines, and even trees took root wherever they could find purchase.
The target site was approximately ten miles to the west, and the trip over the shattered carcass of the southern Oakland suburbs, across the brackish waters of the East Bay, and toward the crumbling skyline of San Francisco took the drone about nine minutes. The great towers that once stood there like glass-encased fortresses had long since been lain low, their shining, gleaming exteriors eradicated in an instant by the double hammer strike of airburst and groundburst nuclear weapons. Several buildings had actually collapsed, though no one could know if that had occurred during the attack or in the years that followed. Rusted, pitted metal rose toward the sky like the desiccated fingers of a long-dead fallen giant. Millions of shards of glass still gleamed in the hazy sunlight, and in the business district, where the first weapon had ignited the very air, the glass had melted and formed a gigantic reflective pool. Trapped in its motionless crystalline embrace were the burned, rusting hulks of automobiles.
“Wow, there really is such a thing as a glass parking lot,” Mulligan noted.
“Are you all right seeing this?” Leona was piloting the drone from the science station next to KC’s engineering post. She wore a visor over her eyes and couldn’t see him even if she turned her head toward him.
After a moment of apparent consideration, Mulligan quietly said, “I’m fine. It’s not like the overall destruction of human civilization is anything new to me anymore.”
“Coming up on the intercept point in fifteen seconds,” she reported. At that point, the drone was flying a preprogrammed course and would hover over the GPS coordinates Leona had inputted into its flight computer. Once that happened, she would maneuver the small aircraft according to direction from Andrews, who watched the footage intently.
It showed a never-ending stream of destruction that he had unfortunately grown used to. He had no personal memory of San Francisco as a city, so there was no recollection against which the devastation could be compared. He only knew that thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of American lives had ceased to exist in seconds as the city suffered from an airburst detonation in the high megaton range followed by a groundburst perhaps a few minutes later. The airburst had set everything flammable ablaze in an instant—buildings, vehicles, vegetation, and people—and snuffed it all out with a shockwave that eliminated any chance of infrastructure survival. Everything the city depended on, such as water and electricity and even breathable air, was removed from the vicinity and replaced with fires that burned at more than two thousand degrees Fahrenheit and radiation that would cause immediate and irrevocable destruction of cellular material. And to ensure that the city would never rise again, the effect of two shockwaves rent flesh from bone after it had been thoroughly cooked and degraded.
Earthfall (Book 2): Earthfall 2 [The Mission Continues] Page 5
