Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles) (51 page)

“Have to go, Gunny.” Scott wondered how strong his voice sounded.

“Yes, sir. I know.” He placed his beret on his head, straightened it, and came to attention before cutting Scott a perfect Marine salute. Scott felt a stinging sensation in the corners of his eyes as he returned it.

Men, especially men such as they were, could never say “
I love you
” to each other, but that’s how they felt. Gunny Brock was his brother and more, but maybe he didn’t need to say it. Brock knew how he felt, the same as he knew how Brock felt about him, so maybe they didn’t need words between them.

“Enemy ships will be at the maximum missile engagement range in thirty, I repeat, thirty minutes,” tactical announced.

“Look after Kat and my son for me, Gunny.”

“You know I will, sir.” With that, Scott cut the connection, and never saw the pain in Brock’s eyes.

“You didn’t tell him,” Pete muttered off to the side out of pickup range.

“Hell no!” Brock snapped, shooting Pete a deadly look. “And don’t you go calling him and telling neither.”

“I wasn’t going to, Brock! And you know damn well I wouldn’t,” Pete shot back.

Brock nodded. “Sorry I said that.”

Pete brushed the apology away with a smile. It wasn’t needed. “But do you think I’m going to tell him his wife is up there with him? I think not, especially since she’ll be leading the gunslingers.”

“Do you have to remind me? Christ! I love that girl like my own daughter, but I’m not about to castrate the old man just before a battle by telling him that. Besides, I promised her I wouldn’t.”

“Fuck!” Pete snapped, shaking his head, and looked out the window of Brock’s office at the sky. “God! I hope it’s enough,” he muttered.

“Amen to that, brother,” Brock added.

* * * * * *

“Tactical! Is there any way I can see how we look to the enemy?”

“
I can be of assistance there, my captain,
” Lady Gray chirped up. “
However, on the known efficiency of the enemy sensors, the amount of data I can show would—
”

“Just show me the damn screen and stop waffling, woman!” Laughter ran around the bridge.

“
Yes Admiral!
”
the smooth voice answered, but he detected a snippy overtone, and the fact the IA had called him “Admiral.” Was it possible for a computer to get huffy?

The battle screen lit up with a view of his fleet as seen by the lizards, and it was nowhere as clear or detailed as his. The
Australia
stood out, as did most of the major fleet elements, but he could see nothing of his secondary units and especially not the gunslingers or the ring ships at this distance.

“Lady Gray. Put me through to the group leader of the gunslingers.” A few moments later a face appeared on his chair screen. Someone he didn’t recognize.

“Yes, Admiral?”

“I need you to tighten up your gunships so they stay in the sensor shadow of the
Australia
as long as possible.”

“Aye-aye, sir,” the face said with a grin.

“I know you guys are panting at the leash, but I need you to hold it tight until you get the word.”

“Received and understood, Admiral.”

“Good hunting. Drake out.”

* * * * * *

“Hello, Group Captain. I thought you were leading the gunslingers out,” the ring gate guard asked as Kat stepped through.

“I … I am. I had to come back through to pick up a few things, and decided to come back by way of the moon to see how you are doing,” she answered, looking around the containment chamber adjacent to the underground Moon base.

There wasn’t a lot to see, since the main purpose of this chamber was to absorb any explosion coming through the gate, or in the chamber itself, up to and including a nuke. Overhead, a wide shaft led directly to the surface through multiple rupture disks, thereby directing the shock wave and over-pressure blast up and out to the surface, protecting the main cavern. The truly massive blast doors only opened for large items, and only after they’d been inspected to the nth degree by the security detail. The rotating shift that spent part of their time in this chamber knew they were dead if anything lethal did come through, but accepted that, knowing the main base wouldn’t be protected. Kat exited through a smaller blast door set in the wall midway down the two-hundred-foot-long main tunnel. This led to a security checkpoint, where she was vetted.

“Good to see you again, ma’am.” The second guard detail came to attention and saluted as she entered, and Kat returned it with a wave of the hand. Here she submitted to a DNA and retinal scan before passing through three sets of airlocks and blast doors into the main cavern. A couple of the guards looked at her oddly as she departed, but shrugged and went on about their duties. Here she stopped for a moment as she passed through the last checkpoint, looking slightly puzzled, or disoriented. Her face cleared after a few seconds, and she strode across the floor in the marked boundary lanes, toward the ring gates on the other side of the cavern. The place was a madhouse of activity, as groups of sweating men and women maneuvered huge pallets and racks of ordnance into position in front of the outgoing gate.

In all there were twenty gates, each programmed for a different group of ships, and the ordnance stood ready for shipping the moment they received the re-arm order. The nervous excitement in the air was overlaid with a touch of fear, making it almost palpable, especially with the number of nuclear warheads stacked around them, but the main concern was the ring gates. The safety interlocks built into each gate should, in theory, prevent any back-blast from exploding ordnance, even a nuclear one, if a ship took a direct hit and exploded. If that happened, the gate should disengage, even if someone or something was passing through it at the time. What would happen to that someone, or something if that happened was a matter for a lot of speculation. Knowing you were uploading live munitions into a ship in combat, and the fact that you could see into the magazine of that ship was an uncomfortable feeling.

Even so, they stood ready to do their jobs with a sense of pride, since many of them had declared they were “
conscientious objectors
,” and even though they couldn’t fight and kill directly, they had no problem aiding those who could. There were many in the outside world who wanted the freedom New Zealand offered, and rather than reject them, Scott and his command team had decided to offer them the opportunity to participate in non-combat positions. Before they could join, they were vetted and made to understand that their “
citizenship
” was provisional, and contingent on them performing all requested duties, such as the tasks they were engaged in now. For some it was hard, knowing they were providing the instruments and means of killing another being, but most of that vanished when they saw the video of the inside of the mother ship. A few still had reservations, and those found jobs in the kitchens and laundries. None wanted to return to their old life under the stifling code of conduct in the outside world, especially the women. To them, New Zealand was heaven, and the fear they’d lived under most of their lives gradually disappeared, replaced by a sense of self-worth. Some waved, or shouted words of encouragement as Kat passed, but she ignored them, striding steadily across the cavern to the smaller personnel gate that led to the battleship
Australia
.

How Lady Gray was doing it, Scott didn’t know: bouncing a laser off an enemy transmission, or sensor disk more likely. However she was doing it, the battle board from the enemy point of view steadied up and Scott saw more of his fleet appear on the screen, mostly his cruisers and carriers. So far, none of his destroyers, corvettes, gunships, or ring ships could be seen. His new battle doctrine called for the destroyers and corvettes to attack in groups, using a global cluster attack pattern to maximize their shields. Their job was hit and run, never staying in one place long enough for the enemy targeting systems to lock onto them. They were his attack dogs, nipping at the heels of the bear, forcing him to turn his attention away, hopefully distracting him at critical moments, and forcing him to expend irreplaceable munitions.

They wouldn’t get away scot-free, since eventually they’d have to tangle with the enemy fighter and torpedo bombers, but that would also take pressure off the main fleet elements. The new “ring” escape hatches would minimize the number of human casualties. The one thing he couldn’t afford to lose was crews. The ships he could replace, but the training and work to get new crews integrated into the fleet took too long. Three fleets was a lot more than he expected them to send, but it made sense. They wanted to get rid of this irritation quickly, once and for all. It was almost time to button up and get into battle suits, but he looked around one last time. Everything was ready, and he wondered what he’d overlooked. Brock had his ground forces ready, and the critical installations were heavily shielded. It all came down to what the enemy expected. Three times they’d come at them, and each time he’d fought them in a similar fashion, and that was what Scott and the high command were banking on. Unless the lizards changed tactics on them, which he seriously doubted, they had a chance, even with three large fleets. One was clearly tasked with putting boots on the ground and destroying as much, if not all of their installations.

Without an industrial base, they were screwed and the lizards knew it. He was betting the second objective was to wipe out as much of humanity as possible, at least the ones who showed resistance. The remainder would just be breeding stock, and would be under very tight alien control. That was a terrifying thought: a herd of livestock that could think, and know they were just food. Scott had an ultimate solution to that, one he didn’t want to think about using. If the fleet were destroyed, the last omega code to go out on the ship’s death would trigger the “ultimate solution.” He hated that designation, since it carried a lot of historical overtones he didn’t want to think about. Rather than see his son, or anyone’s son or daughter, reduced to the level of cattle, he’d use it. He heard the hatch behind him cycle open, but thought nothing of it until he heard the marine guard’s startled exclamation.

“Group Captain!” Puzzled, Scott turned to see Kat standing there looking at him. His eyes flicked back to the battle board, then back to his wife, wondering what she was doing here.

“Kat! What the hell! You shouldn’t be here, especially now.” His eyes flicked back to the screen.

“I know … but … I just wanted to kiss you before you went into battle,” she stammered, blushing slightly. Scott didn’t know whether to smile or be angry. She walked over, looking around as she did, lifting her arms as she walked up to kiss him. Scott tore his eyes away from the battle board, feeling her right arm circling his neck.

“Kat! I haven’t got time for this. Damn it!” This wasn’t like Kat. She knew better than to pull a stunt like this. Alarm bells rang in his head, hearing his own warning to Devon and Brock. His elbow shot out, catching Kat under the rib cage, driving her back. He leapt out of his seat. She recovered and came toward him again, arms open, tears in her eyes with something partly hidden in the palm of her right hand.

“Please … Scott … I only want to give you a kiss.”

“Kat! Where is our son?” he snapped, looking over her shoulder. The marine guard stood there, looking confused.

“Son?” she asked, looking blank. She stopped coming toward him and stood there, blinking. Scott didn’t hesitate. Taking two steps forward, he delivered a spinning back kick to her head. Much to his surprise, she countered it, hammering a rock-hard fist into his ribs for his trouble.

“Damn it! Take her down!” he yelled, staggering back. The two marine guards finally realized something was wrong and sprang into action. Kat spun and tried to sidekick the one in the lead, but since he was wearing battle armor, it only slowed him a little. Before she could do anything else, Hernandez was on her, his weight driving her to the deck. After that, it only took a few seconds to subdue the kicking woman.

“Get her out of here!” Scott snapped, looking at the board. “Secure her and put her in my day cabin under guard. Stun her if you have to, but don’t let her get free.”