Stark's War Read Free Page B

but instead heard a clutter of commands as officers continually passed detailed orders to units and individuals without regard to intervening levels of command. Business as usual. What did officers do before they could use command and control gear to sit on our shoulders every second? He switched over again, calling Sergeant Reynolds. "Vic? You busy?"
    "Nothing special for a combat assault," she noted dryly.
    "What's up?"
    "What's this talk about audience points?"
    "What about it?"
    "I don't know what it means, and I don't like something happening during a combat op that I don't understand."
    Vic hesitated before replying. "This attack is being broadcast back home on vid with less than a half-hour delay."
    "What?"
    "The audio and video feed from our command and control gear is being relayed straight to the public affairs office," Vic elaborated patiently, "who're shunting it to the networks. Congratulations. You're a vid star."
    "I don't want to be a vid star. Why the hell are they doing that?" Stark demanded, outraged. "I don't want the enemy seeing vid of what I'm doing on our civ networks."
    "There's supposed to be a long enough lag time to keep us safe. As long as we're on timeline."
    "Which we're not. The damn planners are always too optimistic when they lay out those timelines."
    "I know, Ethan. It's not my idea." Vic's tone changed, growing crisp and clipped. "Gotta go. We're closing on our objective."
    "Roger. We are, too." Stark stared ahead, looking for visual on the objective his Tactical claimed would be nearby now. Concentrate on the job at hand. Something suddenly came into view as he crested a small crater rim, a large object set into the lunar surface that glowed like a neon sign on Stark's infrared sight. Waste heat. A lot of it. Looks like they didn't expect trouble enough to worry about camouflaging their site. That was good.
    "I've got target on visual," Murphy reported.
    "Me, too," Stark advised. "That should be the main entry hatch for our objective. Mendoza, check the door for traps or alarms. Gomez, hold back with Billings and Carter to cover the rest of us until we get the hatch open. Everybody else converge on it."
    Smooth and easy, going through the motions they'd executed a thousand times before in a hundred different places, though none so different as this. Stark approached the hatch cautiously, crouched, weapon at ready, then covered Mendoza as the Private unlimbered his gear and scanned the access for any defenses or warning devices.
    "There is nothing there but a standard arrival enunciator," Mendoza reported. "No sign they are expecting problems, Sergeant."
    "Good. Now—"
    Another voice cut in on the circuit abruptly. "What is that? What are you looking at, Sergeant?"
    Stark checked the ID on the transmission before replying. Brigade Staff had apparently decided to devote their attention to his small part of the operation, at least for the time being. "It's a door, Colonel."
    "A door? On the Moon?"
    "Hatch, sir. The main airlock into our objective."
    "Which is a laboratory, right, Sergeant? A research laboratory investigating, uh, new synthetic material fabrication techniques in low G."
    Whatever that means. "That's what my Tactical says, too, Colonel."
    "Good. Good. Well, gather your troops and prepare for entry."
    Stark spoke with exaggerated patience. "They're already gathered and prepared, sir."
    "Then get in there, man!"
    Stark gestured roughly toward the lab airlock. "All right, you apes—"
    "Wait a minute!" another voice interrupted. "Has that hatch been checked for booby traps?"
    Stark bit his lip before answering this time. "Yes, General."
    "It's clear?"
    "Yes, General."
    "I don't want unnecessary damage to that installation, Sergeant! Tell that Private—no, wait, what's the Private's name?"
    "Mendoza, General, he's—"
    "Private Mendoza," the General ordered, "run another check on that hatch for booby traps."
    "Y-yessir," Mendoza stuttered. Seconds dragged by while he ran another