Who's the full bull? she asked Jolly.
That is Colonel Mason Warboys of the tank squadron known as Warboys' Warlords.
Yeah, I figured that's who it was. Heard of him. Tamara thought about it.
Hell, everybody had heard of Warboys' stand against the Seppy line outside Mons City during the Exodus. He alone had been credited with over thirty kills that day! When the tankheads and AEMs had been overrun in the desert outside Mons City, instead of running, Warboys led the charge of his Warlords headfirst into the Seppy line, where he fought them almost to a standstill, until the numbers game finally had caught up with the tankheads. Then, as any good marine knew the story, a group of FM-12 Marines—Cardiff's Killers—had to come in and save their Army asses in the nick of time.
"Tamara, are we clicking along all right?" Major Roberts asked her as she approached them. She half saluted the major who, likewise, half returned it.
"The Robots are a well-oiled, heart-breaking, life-taking machine, sir. They are gung-ho and good to fucking go," Tamara replied with a salute.
"Just what I wanted to hear, Gunny." The major turned and motioned his armored hand toward Warboys. "Gunnery Sergeant Tamara McCandless, I'd like you to meet Colonel Mason Warboys. Mason and I played football at Ohio State together." Major Roberts grinned at Tamara, and she was sure that he knew what her response would be.
"Well, sir, I'll try not to hold that against either of you." Tamara grinned and saluted Warboys, saying, "It is an honor to meet you, Colonel Warboys. You know what the only sign of near sentient life in Columbus is, uh, sir?"
"What's that, Gunny?" Warboys returned her salute and asked with a raised left eyebrow.
"It's just off Highway 33. There's a sign that says Ann Arbor three hundred kilometers."
"You got something against my Buckeyes, Gunny?"
"You see, Mason," Major Roberts interjected, "Tamara here played basketball in college."
"Is that right? Let me guess . . . ."
"Wolverine, sir!" Tamara stuck out her armored chest rigidly and laughed proudly, as any self-respecting student from Michigan would have at least some loathing and seething hatred for Ohio State grads. The two senior officers chuckled for a moment, and then Tamara quickly realized they were ready to talk business. "What can I do for you two, sirs?"
"Well, Tamara, as you know, we are to disperse on the ground with the tank squadron. What I'd like to do is for you to pick a team of recon AEMs to ride down with them." The major had a blank stare for a second as if he were reading something DTM, and then he continued. "The Warlords are likely to burst through to the target first, but they probably will not be able to sustain the location. But a small recon team could get past the enemy lines of defense and wreak havoc from the other side."
"I see, sir," she replied. "Do you have any particular team in mind to do this recon?"
"Your discretion, Sergeant, minus one. I'm going with you. But coordinate with the colonel here and get it done."
"Yes, sir." Tamara had gone to ground in a drop tube before but never one filled with a tank. Her thoughts were that it was going to be a hell of a ride. "Colonel Warboys, I hope your tankheads don't mind getting awfully cozy with a bunch of marines, sir."
"They shouldn't, Gunny, as long as you don't put anybody from Auburn in the tube with Warlord Four. We'd likely not be able to put up with the continuous shouts of 'War Eagle' and 'Roll Tide'!"
"Damn, sir, I don't think we've got anybody in the whole company from the SEC," Tamara responded with disappointment in her voice. "That might've been fun."
"Skinny, once we drop through, you six of the Saviors shag ass to the southwest apex of the octagon," Major Caroline "Deuce" Leeland explained to her second-in-command while she slipped into the organogel layer of her armored g-suit. She slid the cool pseudo-liquid garment up over her naked body, causing her to shiver slightly. But just as soon as the gel layer schurrped into place, the topical drugs and chemicals embedded in it immediately adjusted to Deuce's body temperature. A faint fluorescent hue shimmered down the length of the bodysuit. "I'll take Hawk, Beanhead, and PayDirt through the middle, and then let's work toward each other."
"Roger that, Major," Captain Connie "Skinny" Munk acknowledged, likewise pulling up her organogel bodysuit. Connie and Deuce were veterans of the Exodus and had fought hard along side their previous top pilot, "Bigguns," who had given her life in the battle to save Mons City. Skinny had actually been holding her commander and best friend in her mecha's hand when she had died. Something like that stuck in a pilot's craw, and it didn't increase her love for the Seppies.
Over the years, Deuce had moved into that top spot with the Saviors, and Skinny had moved into the number two. Both of them were very accomplished mecha pilots.
"That suit you, Captain?"
"Yes, ma'am. HoundDog, Goat and Volleyball, and Popstar and Romeo are on me. Since we ain't supposed to damage the target, I guess we just recon for things to kill?"
"They'll be flying their support out of somewhere. Find where it comes from and take it out." She snapped on the thin armor over the organogel and the compression layers and then stood straight to work the suit into place.
"Oo-fuckin'-rah, ma'am!" The marine pilot pulled the zip cord of her armored g-suit up her back and fastened it over her right shoulder. The armor healed over the zip seam and hardened, hiding any evidence of the seam. Skinny picked up her brain bucket, snapped to the tether, and let it hang over her shoulder like a backpack.
"Gung-fucking-ho, marine."
Chapter 4
October 31, 2388 AD
Sol System; Orlando, Florida
Saturday, 5:35 AM, Earth Eastern Standard Time
"Marine One is across the bridge from Tomorrowland in the open area in front of Cinderella's castle, sir," Kootie informed his boss. "About two hundred meters that way." Kootie pointed along the walkway that wound around the castle that had for centuries been an icon of American family entertainment.
"Let's move and stay on your toes," Thomas ordered. He stood directly in front of President Moore while Clay sandwiched in behind him. The president held his daughter's right hand, while Sehera held her left. The immunobooster was doing its job and Deanna's arm was mostly healed now.
Kootie took the right flank, and several other agents took up post around them. The group walked at such a fast pace that Deanna had to take several running steps every few walking steps to keep up. She never complained.
Thomas, Abigail has notified me that the bandwidth in the local area has just filled. HQ is still trying to understand what that means. Abigail also says that the signal-to-noise ratio has just gone through the roof, Tammie warned him.
What does that mean, Tammie?
If the SNR has increased within the bandwidth of the LAN, that could only mean that there is an increase in encrypted communication signals within it. Abigail says that the same thing happened when the ride was taken over, Tammie explained.
"Okay, everybody, let's pick up the pace," Thomas said. "Dee, if we're going too fast for you, Clay will carry you."
"I can run faster than Clay, Thomas!" Deanna challenged.
"That's the spirit, honey." Sehera smiled.
The walkway began to wind through some ornamental shrubbery and trees. One of the shrubs had a particular likeness to a certain famous little wooden boy while another looked like a flying elephant. Thomas noticed that the trees directly across from them near Frontierland were beginning to sway as if a breeze were picking up, and then suddenly a hovercar shaped like a magic carpet whirred through the vegetation, scattering leaves and flowering blossoms asunder. The magic-carpet-ride car was large enough to hold two adults in front and in back and most likely used the same type of hovercar propulsion that the Andromeda Invasion ride had used. The large plastic hovercar accelerated way beyond the safety protocol speed it had been designed for, and like a guided missile, it collided with Marine One.