Andromeda’s Choice Read Free Page B

“Be careful what you ask for.” Assuming they found the Hudathan hideout, how many aliens would they have to face? The Hudathan fleet had been forced to withdraw when Admiral Poe and his ships arrived, leaving pockets of troops here and there all across the surface of Orlo II. Most of the groups consisted of no more than a dozen soldiers, but McKee knew some of them were larger. And if the marines ran into a company-strength force of Hudathans, they would be SOL. And so would she.
    McKee’s train of thought was interrupted as the trees began to thin, and a river appeared up ahead. Bronski was still moving forward when she grabbed the back of his harness and jerked the marine to a halt. “Get down . . . We’ll low crawl forward.”
    McKee turned and motioned for the rest of the patrol to take cover before falling in next to Blonski. The marine had been taught how to low crawl in boot camp and put on an excellent demonstration of how to do it as he placed his weapon across the top of his forearms and elbowed his way forward. It wasn’t long before they had a good view of the river. It was sluggish, pea-soup green, and, judging from the boot prints on the opposite bank, not very deep.
    All things considered, the ford was an excellent place for an ambush. Once the marines were exposed, and knee deep in water, they would make excellent targets. McKee heard what sounded like a wild boar charging through the forest and knew Fox was coming forward. He landed heavily. “Sergeant.”
    â€œSir.”
    â€œWhat have we got?”
    â€œThis would be a good place for the Hudathans to set an ambush, sir. I suggest that you send a fire team upstream. Once they’re around the bend and out of sight, they can cross, work their way back down, and let us know what they see.”
    â€œWe’ll flank ’em!” Fox said happily. “That’ll teach the bastards.”
    â€œAnd one more thing,” McKee added. “If the shit hits the fan, tell them to pop some smoke. It would be a shame to shoot them.”
    Fox’s eyebrows rose. “Yes, good point; I’ll take care of it.”
    The next half hour passed slowly as a team of four marines crossed the river and felt their way east. What if she was wrong? What if there was no ambush, and the Hudathans managed to escape due to excessive caution on her part? All manner of doubts chased each other through McKee’s mind until a male voice sounded in her helmet. “Charlie-Three to Charlie-Six . . . It looks like the ridgeheads were waiting for us. But they’re gone now. Over.”
    McKee felt a sense of satisfaction mixed with disappointment. She’d been correct—but the enemy had opened up a lead by now. There was one good thing, however, and that was the possibility that the Hudathans believed they were safe and would hightail it home without setting any more ambushes. Especially with night coming on.
    It felt right to McKee, and she said as much to Fox, who had come to believe that the legionnaire was infallible. So the patrol crossed the river, located the game trail the Hudathans were using, and began to jog.
    Blonski had been rotated to the rear by then, but McKee was still in the two slot, and grateful for the fact that she was in good shape. The rain had stopped, the air was humid, and she was carrying forty pounds of gear. That was a lot for a woman who weighed 125, but months of combat had strengthened her, and McKee knew she could run the jarheads into the ground. Branches whipped past her helmet, patches of blue flashed by overhead, and the rasp of her own breathing filled her ears.
    They ran for fifteen minutes before McKee held up a hand and cut the pace to a walk. They had made up some of the time lost earlier. That’s what McKee figured, and she didn’t want to run pell-mell into an enemy encampment.
    The concern was validated ten minutes later when the marine on point