Майк Резник - SNAFU - Future Warfare

She walked out, leaving Gardner to worry. He pulled up a map of the area around the Forward Operating Base, studying the topography of the region where Joel's drone had been lost. He'd have access to the map when he was jacked in, but it couldn't hurt to have the lay of the land fresh in his memory. Besides, it kept his mind occupied.

He closed his eyes and quizzed himself on prominent landmarks, enemy troop movements, and locations of civvie concentrations. Satisfied, he powered down his tab and left his office. The Active Combat Room was just down the hall. He swiped in just in time to see the techs dropping the mag-coil helmet over Liz's head. The rest of the squad was already wired up.

One of the techs waved his hand toward an empty EMEG rig. “Ready to go, Lieutenant Gardner?”

He sat in the chair. “Do me a favor. You see anything that looks wrong with one of the rigs, even just a little bit wrong, you unplug the guy's EMEG. Immediately.”

“You got it.”

The tech arranged the net on his head, positioning the electrodes carefully, checking the display screen with each adjustment. When he was satisfied, he lowered the helmet. For a long moment, the world went dark and silent. Then a prickling of his scalp accompanied the muted clicking of the mag-coils through his ear muffles and—

Warm desert air washed over him, carrying sand grains that pinged against his depleted-uranium plating. His battery bank registered a full charge, so he retracted his power cable and swiveled 180 degrees. A quick visual scan showed Liz and the squad already assembled at the south gate. He activated command telemetry for each of his soldiers and scrolled through their data streams until he was satisfied everyone was green. He cycled through each soldier's vidstream, lingering a long moment on Josè's bird's-eye view of the FOB.

“Sound off, gamma squad,” Liz said. Gardner's vidstream flashed a green border around her drone while she spoke.

“Heavy weapons ready, Sarge,” Hailie said.

“Sniper locked and loaded,” said Kyle.

“Eyes in the sky, green to go,” Josè said.

“Machine gunner ready,” said Maria.

Liz flashed green. “Ready to move out, LT.”

“Let's go.” He signaled to the gunners manning the perimeter defenses, wondering idly if they were sitting under their own helmets a few feet from him or a thousand miles away. His squad fanned out and advanced into the desert beyond the gate. His treads spun when he left the paved surface, then he lurched forward as they bit into the sand.

He kept an eye on Josè's vidstream as they advanced. The regional map overlay highlighted navpoints in blue. The spire of the Khalifa Tower breached the horizon to the west; rugged hills matched topographic contour lines just ahead to the south; smoke rose from a village to the southeast.

“Watch for refugees to your left, Josè. Make sure we don't fire on civvies.”

“Got it, LT. Wait—”

“What is it?”

“Got something.” A glint in the hills flashed blue. “Could be Joel's drone.” Josè's vid zoomed on it.

“I see it.”

“Dust plume inbound from the east,” Liz said.

Josè's vidfeed swirled dizzyingly. “Got them,” he said. His vid centered on a dusty road winding from the village into the hills. A snap zoom revealed a convoy of five pickups topped with what looked like .50 caliber machine guns. “They're going to get there first.”

“How about you go for a closer look, Josè. See if a Hellfire or two might slow them down. But get a clear ID first; I don't want you firing on friendlies.”

“And be careful,” Liz said. “They may have MANPADs. You don't want to dance with SAMs.”

“Roger that.”

“Liz, see if you can get close enough to paint a target or two for him. Take Hailie for backup. Kyle, take a position where you can get a bead on the drone. Maria and I will continue to approach it.”

“On it, LT.”

He rolled forward, watching his troops move into position. Kyle's drone ascended a shallow rocky slope on his right flank; a fairly steep and rugged face blocked his view to the left. Through Liz's vidstream, he watched Josè approach the technicals.

“They're not squawking IFF,” Josè said. Gardner saw a flash on Liz's display simultaneously with Josè's, “SAM! Goddamn it.” His vid spun with evasive turns and rolls.

“In position to paint the son of a bitch,” Liz said.

“I see it,” Josè said. “Beamrider away.”

Gardner topped a crest overlooking the drone site. He brought his attention back to his own vidstream. He zoomed on it, sitting inert on the rocky ground. It didn't look damaged. “Drone confirmed.”

“Got my sights on it,” Kyle said. “No activity nearby.”

“Let's move in, Maria.”

“Roger.”

He rolled forward, keeping a close eye on his vidstream. A couple of insurgents with improvised EMPs could slag his drone and send him back to base with a headache. A rumbling boom refracted around the hillside to his left, and a quick glance showed a black plume peeking above the rocky peak. Scratch one technical.

Josè whooped. “Whoo—oh shit, SAM in the air.”

“I count two, no, three launches,” Liz said.

A glance at Josè's vidstream gave Gardner vertigo, so he focused on Liz's. The flaming ruins of a technical belched black smoke, blocking her view of the others. She rolled toward the wreckage with her IR overlay active. Hailie's drone, with its large caliber smooth bore and TOW tubes, was visible ahead and to the right of Liz's field of view.

“SAM's got a lock!” Josè shouted. Flares glittered above the desert in Liz's vidstream. Josè's drone twisted and rolled violently.

“You still have incoming—”

“I'm hit!”

Gardner's vid showed Maria ahead of him, almost within touching distance of Joel's drone. He was right behind her. “Kyle, you got eyes on? We still green?”

“Roger that. No movement.”

“Okay, Maria, let's hook this thing up and get the hell out of here.” He rotated his upper casing so that she could mount the disabled drone on the rack welded to his back.

“Sure thing, LT.”

He spared a glance at Liz's vidstream. Josè was still in the air, trailing black smoke. Hailie was rolling toward the enemy. “You okay, Josè?”

“Goddamned shrapnel. Losing hydraulic pressure to my left aileron. It's really sluggish.”

“Better get back to the FOB.”

“Damn it. Okay, roger.”

“Hailie, don't engage unless you have to.”

“I got this, LT. They try to launch another SAM, I'm gonna shove a TOW up their ass.”

“Don't worry, Boss,” Liz said. “I got her six.”

His field of view lurched and his gyros whined. His data stream showed a jump in gross weight. “Ready to roll?”

“Wait one,” Maria said. “You're not secured yet.”

“The hell?” Hailie's voice was a high pitched squeal.

Liz shouted, “Fall back, fall back!”

Gardner switched to Liz's vidstream. A wall of dust was closing in on Hailie. It took him a moment to see the technicals, fanned out and bearing down at full speed across the desert. Hailie lurched backward while firing her smooth bore. Tracers lit up Liz's vid as she tried to cover Hailie's retreat.

“Get a move on, Maria.”

“Working on it.”

One of the technicals veered off course and trailed smoke, but the others closed on Hailie fast. Their mounted guns flashed.

“Taking fire! Wait, what's th—”

“Hailie? Hailie!” Gardner flipped to her vidstream and saw static.

“Jesus, LT,” Liz said. “They lit her up with something.”

“Base, get her the hell out of there!”

“Falling back,” Liz said. “I could use some backup.”