“I was going to set the nuke in place, with a squad to watch it. If we need to blow Krakatoa, the squad can do it themselves, or we can fire it here or from orbit using the relay at the halfway point in the caverns. And it’ll blow if the enemy tries to mess with it, of course.”
“I’m not comfortable with that, Captain. Too much can go wrong. Your men might panic and pull the plug too soon.”
“What do you suggest, sir?”
“Put the nuke in place, but no tamper charge. We don’t want the enemy taking the initiative from us with this thing. And pull your people out of that control room. I don’t want them panicking and setting the charge off prematurely.”
“Sir, we need to set guards to protect the charge and the relay….”
“The relay, yes. The relay will feed us sensor data on what’s going on around the warhead, and we’ll need to protect the relay to keep that feed open and to trigger the charge from here. But I want that responsibility. No one else should be able to fire the warhead unless I give specific orders to that effect. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Carry on.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Warhurst shook his head. Micromanagement reared its ugly head once again.
Still, he could understand the general’s position. Setting off a nuclear warhead was not exactly on the same level as deciding whether or not to return enemy fire. It was an escalation of force that had to be ordered from the very top of the chain of command.
But he was afraid that the constraints King was putting on the mission were going to jeopardize its execution. The more you tinkered with a plan, the more complex and convoluted it became, the greater the certainty that something was going to go the hell wrong.
“Lieutenant Frayne? How’s it going?”
“Just about set, Captain.”
“New orders, Lieutenant. Set the charge for relay-detonation only, then get the hell out of there. Set a guard on the relay unit, but do not leave anyone in that chamber.”
“With pleasure, sir. This place gives me the crawlies.”
Frayne reset the trigger mechanism, using his armor AI. “Relay check,” he said.
“I’ve got a signal,” Warhurst replied. The relay was transmitting a steady and unobstructed signal from the backpack nuke to Lander One. “You’re clear. Set the gunwalkers and pull out.”
“On our way out, Captain.”
“And about fucking time,” Ostergaard added. The squad began filing back out the way it had come.
Maybe, Warhurst thought, just maybe this crazy operation would work out right after all. General King’s micromanagement had made him a bit nervous, but with the backpack nuke in place and the relay guarded, they could still pop the mountain’s cork anytime they needed to, and the incoming Derna and the supply ships would be safe.
Now he needed to see to the security of the Marine ARLT.
ARLT Section Dragon Three
Objective Krakatoa, Ishtar
2250 hours ST
“Awright!” Valdez exclaimed. “The word’s just come through. Derna and the transports are in orbit! The next wave of LMs is already coming down.”
“Outstanding!” Deere said. “About time those assholes quit lounging about in zero g and got their dead asses down here to give us a hand!”
“Who needs a hand, Sarge?” Womicki asked, laughing. “We got this place secured without ’em!”
“Krakatoa, maybe,” Valdez said, cocking an eye on the mountaintop looming above them. “But there’s still the little matter of New Sumer and the Legation compound. You feel up to tackling those on your own?”
“Hell, no, Gunny,” Womicki said, jerking a thumb skyward. “Like Honey says, let those guys upstairs do something for a change!”
What was left of 2nd Squad was seated on the ground in a circle not far from their LM, peeling open their self-heating rations and eating. They’d removed helmets and gauntlets but were still encumbered by the heavy shells of their Mark VIIs.
Some six hours had passed since the battle. After a brief rest, the platoon had been assigned to pickup detail, going over the whole LZ, moving Frog bodies and picking up weapons. A science team off the Derna, they’d been told, would examine the bodies. The alien weapons were sorted and deposited in piles for later study. And now there was nothing to do but sit, sleep, eat, and talk, while taking turns with the other platoons on perimeter guard.
The sky was definitely lighter now, and the clouds that had shrouded the LZ earlier were breaking up, but it was still darker than an Earthly twilight to unaided eyes. In the east, a line of scarlet-gold light rimming the clouds masking the horizon marked the rise of Llalande 21185. In the west, swollen Marduk loomed vast and wan and ringed in a green and indigo darkness, its banded face pocked with oval storm patterns, each as big or bigger than the Earth. Overhead, a meteor blazed brightly, scratching a thread of light across a sky already aglow with the soft reds and greens of the Ishtaran auroras.