Starting from Scratch (26 page)

It was these two men who came up with the idea of
using robots to carry supplies and to use as backup warriors for
the mission. Bambi was reluctant to have the robots used that way.
It had something to do with their programming, which restricted
them from direct combat.

Mike made it an order for the robots to be used on
the assault. He explained to Bambi,
The robots don’t have to
fight, they just need to be there, carrying extra weapon loads and
to use as shields for the men.

Oh…OK. They can do that, if I make the command to
them seem as though they’re just providing minor support activity
for the crew of our ship. They are hardwired not to fire any
weapons. But carrying supplies and standing in the way of plasma
shots is doable.

They began slowing down when they were two million
miles out. By the time they were twenty miles from the surface,
they were down to mach 5 and just passing over Japan. Bambi had
assured him that it was very unlikely that they would be spotted by
any military on the planet.

Mike had switched places with Al, on the second small
shuttle. The game plan called for him to set down in the basin at
Nellis, drawing the attention of Hardesty’s troops. At that point,
Bambi would open up a direct video comm with the President and let
him see what his Secretary of Defense had set up.

He would be informed that the new warriors were about
to defend themselves. That’s when all hell would break lose.

Mike had control of the shuttle and gave the mental
order to move ahead of the others, so he could go in first. But the
shuttle didn’t move as he had ordered. He tried again, and still it
moved to a central placement in their tiny armada, where it wasn’t
supposed to be. He feared that somehow, the Americans had hacked
into Bambi and changed her programming.

Bambi, what’s going on? Why won’t the shuttle do as
I tell it to?

Max came on line and told him,
General Hurst,
Bambi, Wayne and I have a change in plans for you. It’s a crazy
idea for you to put yourself in jeopardy, when it isn’t
necessary.

Damn it, Max. I should be taking this risk, not
someone else. Who have you chosen to die for me?

Bambi told him,
No one, sir. I had a simulated
small shuttle made by a fabricator. The large shuttle has been
towing it, as the robots finished installing a small engine to
allow it to land. On the outside it looks like the real thing. It
does have a modest amount of shield power and I doubt that any
thing the locals can hit it with will do any harm. However, I’m
still concerned about the lasers.

Mike said,
I thought you were going to take them
out.

I am. But when Max and the rest of us game planned
it, we realized there was a chance they could get a shot off,
before I took out there power source. That could leave you fried to
a crisp. So, Bet insisted that we come up with an alternate
plan.

In exasperation, he pressed,
Well, why in the hell
wasn’t I informed? After all, I am the head of this cluster
fuck.

Max answered,
Because you have a strong desire to
do whatever it takes to protect your men. We knew you would want to
be on the shuttle when it lands. After we have established complete
control, you can make your grand entrance from the thing, thereby
making your point about not trusting the bureaucracy. But, if you
were toast, the whole damn thing goes up in smoke and we are left
with no leader.

Max, you are the next in command. We will always
have a leader.

True enough, Mike. But right now, to most of these
guys, you are the head of the snake. There will be hell to deal
with, if they take you out of the picture.

Mike sat there and ran the alternatives through his
rapid mental process and came to the same conclusion that his staff
had.

OK. We go with your plan. It is a better one and I’m
embarrassed that I didn’t think of it. Thank you all for covering
my ass. But, next time, have a little faith in me and let me know
what’s going on. For all you know I might have planned something
myself.

Bambi privately offered,
If you had, I would have
told them. And I know you’re pissed at the others and me; so let me
say this. Stop trying to be all things in this organization. It
seems to me that you have some mighty fine people here, who can be
trusted to watch out for all of us, including you.

Max chimed in,
Mike, we have to know that our
commander isn’t going to run off and try to save the day by
himself. We’re a team, remember?

OK, OK, I’ve got it. I’ll behave.

In her best professional military voice, Bambi
announced,
Coming up on California, at twenty six thousand feet
and now traveling at six hundred ten miles an hour; so no sonic
boom. The ‘shell’ shuttle is moving to the front and the others are
spreading out to make their run to their assigned
positions.

Mike had always appreciated a calm voice in a hostile
environment. He was glad that Bambi seemed to understand that
also.

In his mind, he saw the shell shuttle, as Bambi had
called it, heading toward a touchdown spot, the location of which
had been sent to them fourteen hours earlier, by General Boltz’s
staff. It was perfectly positioned between the two laser batteries
and he was certain that Hardesty was nearby watching the entire
thing, although he couldn’t see anything yet.

Bambi, I think we should let them find the shell
shuttle with their radar. So, cut back on the stealth, as it comes
in for a landing.

Got it.

The shell shuttle slowed considerably, allowing the
stealthed shuttles to move to the outside edge of the basin and
behind several of the troop emplacements surrounding the landing
zone. They dropped off warriors at several different locations, and
then moved in behind the tanks and heavy artillery.

By the time the shell shuttle came into view of the
people on the ground, it was barely moving at nine hundred
feet.

General, the President is on line and watching.

Thank you, Bambi.

Mike called the base air traffic control center and
requested permission to land at the designated spot. As soon as he
received the go ahead, the shell shuttle made its final move,
hovering over the appropriate location, at two hundred feet.
Slowly, it moved down, until it was on the ground.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

Heavy artillery, motor and gunfire erupted and all of
it was directed at the shell shuttle. It displayed its
imperviousness to the assault, by the glow of the explosions
against the shield wall around it, which was out around one hundred
feet. Not a single ballistic penetrated the shield and Mike knew
that had to piss of Mike Hardesty.

Bambi had moved the two real shuttles, under stealth,
behind the lasers. The problem was that they had been placed on the
basin side of the mountain range and were dug in deeply, making it
difficult to get a good shot at the generators. She sent out the
mini drones she had crafted for this mission and moved them out to
the side of the laser batteries, yet somewhat in front of the
weapons and took simultaneous plasma shots at the generators.

As she did that, the TSN warriors moved up behind the
tanks and fired at their barrels, melting them, and then took
secondary shots at the engines, incapacitating them entirely. The
group assigned to the heavy artillery, easily melted their barrels,
making them useless.

The President watched from his office at the
Whitehouse and that included listening to the commands of Mike
Hardesty as he went nuts, giving out orders to “fry that rotten
bastard, Hurst.”

The President was appalled and cried out, “I didn’t
authorize that. Can you hear me, Mike. I had nothing to do with
this.”

Mike told the man, “I believe you, Mr. President.
Don’t worry; we’ll deal with it and we’ll get by this. We have to
for the sake of the planet. In the mean time, I’ve arranged for you
to hear some interesting conversations between Hardesty and a good
friend of his, Harvey Grissom.”

Bambi, play those recordings for him, while we take
care of business in Nevada.

No sooner he had dropped out of the call with the
President than Bambi commed loudly,
Fuck, there’s a third laser
buried in the northwest hills. I’m going after it, but it’s
probably going to get off a shot.

Mike watched the shell shuttle, as a spot on its hull
began to glow, and then it melted away. Mere seconds later, a hole
appeared on the other side, as the laser came all the way through.
Apparently, it took out the shuttles power supply, which halted the
shield protection.

Most of the heavy artillery had been dealt with, but
there were just too many of them for the warriors to take all of
them out, in so short a time. As a result, artillery began to rip
apart the hull of the empty fake shuttle.

Mike listened in to the supposedly secure line that
Hardesty was using to direct the action. Bambi made sure that the
President heard it, as well.

“That’s it men. We’ve got that cocksucker now. Kill
him; kill them all. They’re all traitors, so show them no
mercy.”

Hardesty wasn’t aware of the damage to his forces by
Mike’s warriors, who continued to substantially reduce the very
troops that were expected to finish off Mike’s men. He was so
wrapped up in his apparent success that he failed to notice how
weak his forces had become.

Mike contacted Al and told him,
I hate to say it,
but we need to sweep around the edge of the canyon and take out
most those men. Be sure to continue using stun shots, not killing
blows. The Planet is going to need those men and they’ll appreciate
that we didn’t kill them, although we easily could have and they’ll
know it.

You got it, boss.

As was his habit in a combat zone, Mike asked,
Do
we have any casualties?

Yes sir. One KIA and three wounded. They’re already
on a shuttle and in a med unit. Bambi says they’re going to be OK.
The KIA was hit eighteen times by a fifty cal. He would have
survived, but he took a couple of head shots. It was quick,
General. He didn’t suffer.

Thanks, Al.

So far the casualties were very light, but Mike still
felt for his dead warrior. Who ever he was, he had been a wounded
vet from combat long ago and Mike was affected by the unfairness of
the man’s death.

He told Bambi,
When this is over, I want the name
and record of that dead warrior to be given to each and every
soldier in those hills. And if any of them has died, I want to know
their history as well.

I understand sir. I’ll see to it.

Mike watched in his minds eye, as a strange vehicle
came into view on the horizon. It came in close and fired, and then
was gone. In the brief three seconds of its presence, it had fired
a powerful plasma bolt that destroyed the entire side of the huge
hill where the last laser had been.

Mike realized it had been the Sauran space fighter,
flown by Commander Daniel Doolin.

He commed,
Thanks, Doolin. Good job.

You are most assuredly welcome sir.

Wayne added,
Thanks, Danny, for saving my daddy’s
ass.

Mike could have said something, but he had another
task to complete.

Al, I’m coming in to get Hardesty. Bambi says he’s
in here.

He sent a photo of the entrance to an underground
bunker and its precise location on a map grid.

I’m going to need some help, so I’ll need a few
warriors; I’m thinking half a squad should do it. Have them meet me
there in two minutes.

Al fired off a crisp and happy,
Yes sir.

Mike waited until the other shuttle rendezvoused with
his, and then they went down and landed about five hundred yards
from the entrance. Mike left the shuttle, plasma rifle in hand, and
saw that a team of warriors, led by Al Benson, was deploying near
him. They met up and headed toward their objective.

Mike noted that Al had brought twenty men with
him.

Al, I thought I said bring half a squad.

In false wonderment, Al responded,
You did? I
thought you said half of a platoon. Oh well, this should do
it.

Mike wasn’t angry, but he felt he should admonish Al
for a minor case of disobeying the regs, such as they were.
Al,
I don’t need a mother hen to watch over me. Four or five guys
should be able to get this done.

Sir, you’re probably right. But, I am on this
mission with you and I don’t want to get blowed up like we both did
in Iraq. Maybe you don’t mind, but I do.

Mike gave him a big grin and commed,
Good
point.

They were able to get within one hundred fifty yards
of the objective before they began receiving fire. The weapons used
against them were standard military 5.56 cal rounds. All of the
men, including Mike, wore light armor. It was good protection for
almost anything they were likely to face, yet not so cumbersome
that they couldn’t move quickly. In fact, the speed of their
movement was far quicker than the fastest human could move, wearing
only shorts and sneakers.

Al grabbed Mike’s arm and told him,
Watch this,
boss.

On a squad wide net, he told the men to take up
positions for a group blast, on his command. The men spread out
even more than they had been, using their grid locators to
precisely arrange themselves for the single fire strike.

Al told Mike,
We tried this about fifteen minutes
ago and it worked beautifully. We use a heavier charge, but Bambi
rigged a diffuser for us, that spreads out the shot. It strikes a
much larger area, but doesn’t kill anyone; at least I don’t think
it does. We control the area to be hit, by coordinating all
position, without over lap. That should cut down on serious
casualties for the other guy.