They then flew sideways and cut two more slices into the rear of The Empire's flagship. This time the weapons pealed open the bulkhead on one of the Eagle landing pads and also tore a gash in an engine baffle.
In response, a bank of aft-mounted turrets sprayed rapid rounds across the first Stingray's port side, rupturing the ship's skin and causing a small explosion. Flakes of its metal skeleton blew off and the attacker rocked side to side like a boxer taken by a surprise upper cut.
The Stingrays nearly clipped the tower as they dove toward the flight deck. Their lasers blasted streaks in the runway causing smoke to rise from twin lines of seared steel.
Jon finally found his infrared lock. The Witiko must have received warning, for the two cruisers rocketed away at full power, dipping toward the mountains just as two heat-seekers streaked away from launch tubes.
One smacked into the rear of an enemy ship. An explosion tore away chunks of hull and knocked an engine off-line. The cruiser wobbled and, for a short moment, looked as if it might tumble from the sky. Instead, the Witiko craft righted itself and continued on, albeit at less velocity. The second heat seeker fell sucker to flares and exploded far away from its target as the Witiko attackers disappeared from sight. Around the bridge, alarm klaxons rung and technicians spoke in rushed voices as damage control parties and medics reported in. Jon-the Brain-re-opened the flight deck to gather his flock of wounded fighters. With the Air Boss in control of that operation, Jon removed his head set and turned to Trevor. "Thunder flight reports bombing run ineffective. They say the base is well-defended against air attack." Trevor kept his eyes staring forward. The first salvo in the war against California had ended in embarrassment.
Jon questioned, "I suppose we should take in the dreadnoughts directly. Pound Beale with the boppers until they're nothing but dust."
This time Stone did speak, first with a slow shake of his head then whispered words, "No. That's exactly what the Witiko would expect. It's what they want. Two of those Stingrays cut us up pretty good and were on us before we knew it. We go into their space while the Stealth Field is still up and they'll mob us with jet plans, SAMS, and cruisers."
"So then what?"
Trevor told Jon, "Plan B."
5. Plan B
Stonewall walked across Interstate 5, his eyes fixed on the trio of burning tanks. Black, oily smoke rose in plumes and intertwined as if dancing as they drifted into the overcast sky.
Two of his bodyguards followed but they said nothing. The only sounds other than the crackling and popping blazes came from the soft jingle of the General's sword as it swayed on his belt, and the dull thud of his boots on the pavement.
Garrett pulled off his hat and wiped a sleeve across his forehead but kept his eyes on the burning wrecks; funeral pyres for three tank crews courtesy of an enemy Super Cobra.
These were not the only such crematoriums. In two days of fighting, the Second Mechanized Division of Virginia lost a dozen tanks-nearly half their compliment-and an equal number of trucks, Humvees, and armored cars not to mention more than seventy soldiers killed and twice that number injured.
Of course, the optimists bragged that Stonewall's spearhead penetrated nearly forty miles into California, threatening The Cooperative's northern outpost at Weed. Not a lie, but not exactly the truth, either. Weed served as The Cooperative's only sizeable defensive line in the northern part of the state. In fact, McAllister had set up camp at Yreka-well inside California's northern border-days before hostilities began.
Captain Benny Duda approached on horseback. He hurried a salute to his CO although the latter refused to look away from the dead armor.
Stonewall spoke first, "I wonder if this adventure would proceed more favorably if we had Dustin's Cavalry Brigade," Garrett waved a hand toward the foothills on either side of the road. "He would travel through the wilderness, away from this open highway, like we did in the early days. When we followed my vision. Or was it a dream? Whatever the truth, we did not travel on the main roads, we stayed in cover."
"Yes, General. Things were different then, sir."
Garrett's eyes widened. "Oh yes. Much different. The times, as they say, have changed."
"Dustin is still in Colorado, sir. He won't be joining us anytime soon."
"Ah, yes, General Shepherd has use for Dustin there. Besides," Stonewall watched his tanks burn and repeated in an acidic tone what Intelligence told him before the attack, "we won't be needing him here."
The first two days of fighting The Cooperative had been bad days. The advantages of California's Stealth Field generator out of Beale were easy to see on Interstate 5 that afternoon. They never knew the chopper approached until its missiles hit the armor.
"I'm sorry, Benny, you came here to tell me something not listen to my rambling."
"Oh, um, yes, General. We've been ordered to send a detachment over toward Callahan."
"Pardon me, but did you say Callahan?"
Stonewall knew the tiny gold-rush era town of Callahan rested approximately fifteen miles to the west on the rim of the Shasta National Forest and sat squarely in the middle of Route 3, a north to south thoroughfare paralleling Interstate 5.
"Benjamin, you must be mistaken. Several thousand enemy infantry with gun ship support await us outside of Weed, a far more important target than a poorly armed garrison numbering less than two hundred."
"No sir, that's the order. You need to confirm receipt with the courier who brought it."
Ten minutes later, Stonewall stormed into his command tent at a rest stop along the Interstate. There, sitting in one of two chairs around a big map unfurled on a wooden table, waited a man with a bushy mustache and a shaved head wearing green camouflage but no rank on his collar. Stonewall's urgent steps stopped as he recognized his visitor.
"Ah yes, Mister Gordon Knox. I should have guessed that an order to send my troops on a foolish errand could only come from Imperial Intelligence."
Gordon stood and smiled. Stonewall, in contrast, found it difficult to smile after having watched so many of his tanks burn due to The Cooperative's Stealth Shield, a technology Intelligence thought would be 'unreliable.'
Knox stood next to one of the hanging oil lamps lighting the tent and told McAllister, "I need you to occupy Callahan. That isn't too much to ask, is it?"
"No, of course not. Just do me a favor and ask The Cooperative not to send any of their attack helicopters in our direction. You see, we're having a devil of a time spotting their approach. Why, before we even know what hits us, we lose two, three, sometimes more of our tanks and a fair number of troops. And veteran troops such as mine are so difficult to replace."
"Oh, now never fear, General. We just need to tough this out a little while longer. Trust me, taking Callahan will be easy. The garrison will not only surrender to you, they will replace some of those valuable veteran troops you have lost."
That captured General McAllister's attention.
Knox continued, "You see, while The Cooperative's Stealth Field works rather well, it seems the rest of their little paradise isn't quite as wonderful for the rank and file."
Stonewall could not help it. He matched Knox's smile.
– The Eagle airships sat in the dark wedged between tall Ponderosa Pines. It had taken skill for the four ships to find landing zones in the dense hillside forest, but it had taken even more skill to fly low enough among the mountain crevices and gorges to avoid detection.
Inside Eagle One, Trevor Stone opened a locker and pulled out a gray suit covered in a kind of wiry mesh. Other soldiers already wore the suits, including rubbery helmets and metallic faceplates with goggles. Rick Hauser walked from the cockpit to the passenger compartment. Trevor, slipping one leg then the other into the body suit, asked, "Time?" Hauser answered, "Thirty minutes. What if she's late?" Trevor slipped his left arm in one of the sleeves and said, "Then we're all dead."