First Strike
After returning to their ship, Tarina and Wendy found themselves inside Colonel Wright’s office. He had just sent an encoded message back to the forward elements of the Sixth Fleet, now less than a couple of day’s jump from their location.
“Okay, all of the information you brought back from Derra-5 has been sent. Your proposal, to land a battalion of Marines inside the capital, was also included,” said Wright. “Now we sit and wait for their reply. It’ll be at least forty-eight hours before they either say that you’re both out of your minds or a landing craft miraculously appears out of nowhere on our doorstep. Jump-capable landing craft are far and few between. They could modify one, but that would take time and that’s something the Marines on Derra-5 are short of. Either way, it’s out of our hands. You two are to be commended for your work.”
“Thank you, sir,” replied the women.
“I want you to go with the assumption that they will want to reinforce the beleaguered garrison. After a decent meal and a few hours of rest, I want you to work on the calculations for the jump. I want to see both by noon tomorrow.”
Tarina and Wendy exchanged a nod and saluted Wright before leaving his office. They were both far too excited to think about putting their heads down.
“Do you think they’ll go for it?” Wendy asked.
“Yes,” replied Tarina. “They have to. I can’t believe that they would allow Derra-5 to fall.”
“I guess we had best get to work. We can grab some sandwiches and a couple of drinks and then find ourselves a quiet corner of the hangar.”
Tarina nodded. Wendy’s drive never seemed to abate. She began to wonder if her friend ever slept. She was more like a robot than a human being at times. Tarina hoped that she could keep up with her determined friend.
Billions of kilometers away, the division’s intelligence staff were busy debriefing Sheridan and his team. Several officers and NCOs furiously scribbled notes or typed away on computer consoles trying to record every word. Everything they had seen or heard was meticulously recorded. Sheridan was surprised to hear that while they were away the fleet had finally made contact with the garrison. It was welcome news.
After three hours of back and forth with the staff, the debriefing wrapped up. General Gruber thanked them personally. He told Sheridan and his people to get some rest. They were told not to go too far as they were probably heading out again in the next day or so to gather more information.
“Mister Sheridan, I’d like a word,” said Gruber.
Taking that as his cue, Cole rounded up everyone else and led them out of the office.
Gruber took a seat across from Sheridan. “Son, the information that you brought back with you is invaluable. I now know where and when the enemy intends to hit me, and I now know all about their sleeper cells spread throughout the armed forces. It’s a chilling thought just how successful they have been at slipping their people into our military and government agencies for the past several decades.”
“Sir, it’s nothing short of genius. Undoubtedly, they were planning this war right after the last one ended. It was just a matter of timing.”
Gruber smiled. Sheridan was a bright officer with potential. He resolved to keep an eye on the young man and help shepherd his career. He thanked Sheridan, who stood and left to join his comrades.
Gruber sent word for his chief of staff to join him.
A couple of minutes later, Colonel Anne Robbins walked into the room looking as if she had not slept in weeks. There were dark rings under her puffy, bloodshot eyes.
Gruber said, “Anne, I want you to order the guard around the headquarters and the ammunition dumps to be doubled, effective immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” replied the colonel.
“Also inform the staff that our latest plans are not to be released to the regiments without my expressed order. I want to keep them close hold for now.”
Robbins nodded as she took down her notes.
“Also, I’m ordering you to get some sleep. You’ll burn yourself out, and I can’t afford to lose you.”
“Sir, I’ll get some sleep when you do.”
Gruber grinned. “Anne, I’m older than you, I can go with less sleep. Now please do as I ask. The staff can work without you for six hours.”
Colonel Robbins relented. “As you wish, sir, but not one second more than six hours.”
“I’ll make sure you get woken up,” replied Gruber, lying through his teeth. He did not intend to wake her up until her body was good and rested.
Robbins saluted and left to give the new orders to the staff.
Gruber stood up, walked over to the wall and studied a map hanging there. His mind was playing out the enemy’s probable courses of action for the coming assault. He would have to pull a couple of battalions away from their place in the line to meet this new threat. However, if he got it wrong and they were attacked from another direction, there would be nothing to stop the enemy from taking the capital. It was the biggest gamble of his life. With a grin, he decided that unless something new came to his attention that they would go with his plan as it stood. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a fresh cigar. He lit it and savored the taste before exhaling. “Come on, you sons of bitches, try forcing your way across my river and I’ll kick your ass all the way back to Kurgan space.”
32