“There is that,” Tammie admitted. “I’ve never driven a gun-ship.”
“Got a partial answer to that,” D’Allaird said. “Problem being, we are on incredibly short time. You know the mission goes down tonight, right? You’re going to have to be ready to fly.”
“And I’d love to be able to fly hot,” Kacey said. “But I don’t even know where the damned buttons are for this shit. Much less how to shoot with it.”
“Like I said, got a partial answer for that,” D’Allaird repeated. “Would you ladies care to accompany me up to my room?”
“Chief,” Tammie said, “I didn’t know you cared!”
“Oh, I’ve always cared, honey-bunch, but that’s not what I meant,” D’Allaird said. He’d scrounged one of the Keldara trucks and he now gestured to it. “I do think a trip to the caravanserai is in order, though.”
“That’s a very interesting place,” Specialist Andrew Sivula said, gesturing with his chin up to the castle on the hill as an SUV approached the front gates. “We’re not quartered up there, which is too bad. I’d love to take a look around.”
“The home of the Kildar,” Jessia Mahona replied, smiling. “I suppose it is interesting, but it has been there my whole life, you know? It just is. The Kildar, he is interesting. He has brought many changes. I never thought I would be allowed to handle weapons, much less my beauty.”
Sivula had to admit that the 120 was pretty. With a tube nearly six feet long and nearly six inches across, the thing could throw a mortar round, set for proximity, instanteous or delay detonation, 7200 meters. And it was pretty clear that the mortar team, all women, maintained it meticulously. The tube looked as if it had just come from the factory but looking down the bore it was clear it had been fired. A lot.
However, pretty as the mortar was, it paled next to the mortar team leader. The girl was fucking awesome. Tall, about 5’ 10” and stacked with pretty brown eyes and curly brown hair. Sivula was pretty sure he was in love. Her English wasn’t bad, either. He knew he was in lust, but he was pretty sure it was love, too. He knew there was a hands off policy, but he wondered who you approached about an honest offer of fucking marriage.
They weren’t alone in the bunker, though. Four of the seven “man” female crew were performing maintenance on the tube while three more were showing the Bravo mortar team the ammo bunker while his AG tried to chat up one of the girls doing maintenance.
“I haven’t played with 120s since I was in mortar school,” the Ranger said in reply. It was that or “ubba, ubba, ubba.” “We carry 60s. But I know the tune and I can dance a few steps.”
“What?” Jessia asked, confused.
“Sorry, not a reference you’d get,” Sivula replied. “I sort of know how to gun one. What I don’t get is what you use for poles.”
Normally, mortars were aimed using poles that looked a bit like surveyor’s stakes and were drawn from the same background. The poles were about five feet long and, generally, red and white striped. Two would be put in, aligned so that when the mortar was at a central “rest” position the rear pole was occluded by the front in the sight. When a call for fire came in the angle was dialed in on the sight then the mortar slewed right or left in the direction it needed to point. By keeping aligned on the poles the mortar could be vectored to its direction of fire.
This mortar, though, was dug way into the ground. The bunker was one of the best he’d ever seen, deep with sandbag walls and a metal “splinter” cover that could be drawn across the top. There were three tunnels running off of it, one to a separate ammo bunker the other two to the mortar battery command center and a personnel shelter, respectively. The personnel shelter, for that matter, connected to the next bunker in line.
Jessia was in charge of the 2 gun of the battery, the central gun that was used not only for calls for fire but for aligning all three batteries. That was generally a position given only to the best crew and Sivula had to wonder just how good she was.
“You don’t need them with these,” Jessia said, pointing to the wall of the bunker at some lines drawn on plywood boards. They were numbered in some code he hadn’t been able to figure out. “The green one is the primary east aiming line. Lay the sight on the left side of that and you can slew through half the circle. The blue one is primary west.”
“And the red ones?” Sivula asked, looking through the sight. Sure enough, it was laid on the left side of the green line.
“Those are presets,” Jessia replied. “They refer to specific spots that are probable avenues of approach. If something is detected at one of those points, all we have to do is swing the mortar to it, adjust the elevation and fire. Like this… ”
She snapped something in Georgian and the girls doing maintenance dropped what they were doing, literally dropped everything, while the girls who had been in the ammo bunker piled out. Four of them took hold of the legs of the bipod and lifted the heavy mortar into the air. Another, presumably the AG, caught a tossed round from one of the girls in the bunker and shifted with the mortar.
The team rapidly slewed the mortar and then Jessia fiddled for a second, not much longer, and called out again in Georgian.
One of the girls in the bunker hit a button and a loud siren started to sound. The girls who had slewed the gun stuck fingers in their ears as Jessia backed off the gun and the assistant gunner lifted the round over the opening of the tube.
“Holy shit,” Andy snapped, sticking fingers in his ears and ducking to the side. “FIRE IN THE HOLE!”
A mortar does not “crump” at short range, it cracks, it slams, it explodes. It is like a rifle shot but infinitely louder, compressing the lungs for a moment and causing the head to ring even through earplugs or stuffed in fingers. Especially in the confined space of a motar pit.
The team was already moving the mortar back into place and in another few seconds, fast enough, easily, to pass Mortar Square at Benning, the gun was back in action on its original azimuth.
“We just fired one round at a trail in the mountains, one that the Chechens often use. Our accuracy is generally within ten meters with first round. The round impacted well away from your patrols, I’ll add.” Jessia smiled at him prettily. “Wouldn’t want anyone injured.”
“Lady, you are fucking crazy,” Andy said, grinning. “I am going to get in so much trouble for asking this, but are you married or engaged?”
Jessia suddenly stopped smiling and her face set. Andrew knew he’d fucked up. Bad. He was going to get fucking killed by Top.
“Actually, no,” Jessia replied. “I’m a widow.”
It was Andrew’s turn to freeze and blink.
“How old are you?” Andy asked.
“Nineteen,” Jessia said. “My husband was killed… He was killed in battle. I… We don’t talk about all the battles our men participate in but he was killed earlier this year. They didn’t, couldn’t bring his body home, though.” She paused and shrugged. “He is in the Halls but… The women of the Keldara rarely remarry. There are too many girls to marry off as it is.”
“So, you’re just going to go to your grave without even the chance of getting another husband?” Andy said. “That sucks.”
“I had my time,” Jessia replied. “Beslan ///fix/// was a good man and a fine warrior. As are you, Sergeant Sivula,” she added, smiling.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck… Andrew knew when the fickle finger of fate had fucked again. This was definitely love.
“You brought an Xbox?” Tammie said. “You love Halo that much?”