“Listen,” Ellis said, stopping at the edge of one of the tables and waiting for the men to stop and turn back to him, “it’s gonna be rough in there — I’m not gonna lie to you. Before we—”
“We’ve been briefed on the particulars of the operation, sir,” Captain Sammy Williams said, giving him a straight look, not condescending at all, just plain and honest.
Ellis nodded. These men weren’t interested in the particulars, they wanted to know what they needed to get the job done, done as quickly as possible, and with the most efficiency and least amount of error. In that regard it was all a numbers game, and the best score at the end would be the humans whatever and the aliens none. Ellis gave a sideways smirk, both at the thought of not suffering a casualty — they’d already lost one in Montana, hadn’t they? — and the comment from Williams. But he nodded, and then flicked his chin forward, toward the table beside him.
“Those’re the headsets we’ll use,” he said, coming up to the devices just as Carl reached down to pick one up, “they’ll keep the team commanders in contact with their teams, and the commanders in contact with each other and the head command.”
“But soldiers can’t talk to soldiers, is that it?” Charlie asked, a bit of a laugh in his voice, although one that was taken rather quickly.
“Too much chatter,” Ellis said, “it’d drown out everything and you wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
“I’m fine with that,” Donlon said, pushing past Charlie, “but what I want to know more about is the hardware.”
Ellis nodded. It was no surprise the man leading the CAT-4 team would be interested in hardware — he was taking his men in on the tube trains and the fighting down in those lower-levels was bound to be intense.
“Same getup as last time,” Ellis said, “M240 and AR-15 machine guns, Ingram MAC-10s for anyone that wants ‘em, M203 China Lake grenade launchers, loose grenades and sidearms. We figure the more the better, your choice, you know what you like best.”
“How ‘bout my Uzis?” Aaron said. “I gotta have my Uzis.”
“And I ain’t goin’ nowhere without my Colt’s,” Charlie said.
“No problem — they’re yours,” Ellis said.
“But what about their minds?” Walter asked, his tone more serious. He was leading CAT-2, the second team hitting the lower-levels from the trains. Many had seen what’d happened to Frank in Montana, and it’d only taken an hour of being back on base for the other men to spread the word to those who hadn’t seen. No one wanted to experience that firsthand.
“You’ve got the six super soldiers,” Ellis said, nodding toward the few in the room, “one on each team… at least.”
“That ain’t much use in a firefight when things get dicey and you gotta move quick,” Fred said, a hard look in his eye and his face quivering with emotion, “a pair of guys can get separated real quick when that happens.”
“And that’s why you guys are the best, Fred,” Ellis said, crossing his arms and taking on that no-nonsense look that said ‘I’ve been down in the muck in German and Korea and ‘Nam… what the hell do you want from me?’
Fred swallowed, his will to challenge the Dutchman shaken, but not gone entirely. It was his life on the line, after all.
“We might be the best, but there’s never been a mission like this.”
“And let’s hope there’ll never be another.”
Ellis stared out at the men, giving each a hard look in the eye. He’d brook no dissent — it was all-in, or no-go… there was no pussy-footing around on this one.”
“What I want to know,” Tommy suddenly said, coming up from the far end of the room where he’d been perusing the weapons, that crazy and high voice of his setting nerves on edge, and getting right into Turn’s face, “is what the hell I gotta do to blow one of them fuckin’ Grays’ heads apart like you did back there in ‘ol Mon-tuck-ee!”
Turn gave a sideways look around at the others, then laughed. “Why, I just aimed at your ugly mug and fired, hopin’ you’d be smart enough to duck.”
The room exploded in laughter as Sammy, Ronnie, Johnny and Moses fell all over themselves and the younger white solders, most from the South, did the same nearby. Ellis even began laughing as well, until it looked like Robbie and Bobbie were about to topple the table holding the flash guns and he nearly rushed over before they got themselves under control.
“Shit,” Tommy said with a chuckle, “I guess I’ll have to try that then, huh?”
“You’ll have that chance,” Ellis said, a bit gruffly once again, “at 2200 tonight.”
The men looked at one another quickly, their eyes saying it all — that was just two hours from now.
The men were walking down the hallway, heading to their respective team stations, ready to embark. Turn was taking up the rear — something he liked, since in combat he was always charging ahead — when Paul sidled up to him.
“Listen,” Paul said, pulling Turn aside as they walked down the hallway, “don’t buy into all of that back there.”
Turn’s eyes narrowed and he smiled and shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about what they’re telling the newbies, and what they’re not telling us.”
Turn narrowed his eyes further — he wasn’t used to hearing Paul say so much. “What do you mean?”
Paul shook his own head and turned around, put his hands on his hips, and swore under his breath. Something was definitely bothering him.
“Shit, Turn — they’re not gonna be ready, and if they’re not, what’s gonna happen to us, huh?”
“You’re worried about the fear, is that it?” Turn said, moving forward and putting his hand on Paul’s shoulder.
Turn and every other of the super soldiers knew full-well that the Grays had a… field of some sort around their body, one different from humans to the point where the merging of the two fields ended up creating physical symptoms, like the ‘body terror’ so many abductees and other contactees reported.
Paul nodded at Turn’s words, and turned back to face him.
“The field around them is in direct opposition to ours,” he said. “It’s an anti-life field, one that comes directly from the Grays being on that devolutionary spiral. They’re akin to soldiers of fortune, you know that, Turn, and ’offer’ their advanced technology in trade for things they require.” He shook his head. “Eisenhower should have been smarter than to get involved with them.”
“But he wasn’t.”
Paul nodded. “But he wasn’t.”
“What do you want me to say?” Turn laughed. “I’ve heard it all before, seen it all before.” He moved his arm around Paul’s shoulder and started them both back down the hall. “How many missions have we been on, anyways? How many missions against these damn things from another world?”
“Oh, about five or six, I’d say, but—”
“Exactly — five or six. What are you worried about!”
“Turn, they’re experts at manipulating both the human body and mind, and by using those fields to their advantage.”
“And they require blood and other biological fluids to survive!” Turn said. “You heard Stan explaining it all this week, you know all about it… what’s the big concern all of a sudden?”
Paul shook his head. “Maybe it’s what happened back there to you in Montana, how you almost met those same helicopter blades. I just have a funny feeling about this one, Turn, just a funny feeling is all.”