Every eye in the darkened service bay went to the repeater over his station.
“Jesus! Where did those guys come from?”
“They’re coming out of an underground parking garage. They must have been lying doggo.”
“Shit! Look at ’em all! Tyrone’s right! We need to carry more ammo!”
Landing Force Operations Center, USS Shenandoah
2345 Hours; Zone Time, October 31, 2008
“Situational change in the Glodok sector! Enemy armored column!”
“Let’s see them,” Amanda snapped.
The drone-generated imaging appeared in a corner of the big plasma screen, a view looking down into a blacked-out high-rise canyon. Land Rovers, Cadillac Gauge APCs and Scorpion light tanks – more than a score of vehicles – could only mean a full mixed-team mechanized company, intact, unengaged and moving under orders.
“Where the hell did they come from?” MacIntyre demanded.
“I don’t know, sir,” the center duty officer replied. “There wasn’t any armored formation of that size showing anywhere on the boards in that
sector. They must have been holed up in a warehouse or a garage. Some kind of a
reserve force.”
Amanda checked the compass rose in the corner of the screen. “They’re heading south, straight for Merdeka Square.”
“For all appearances, ma’am.”
“How long until they’re a factor?”
The duty officer made a fast judgment call. “Through that built up environment, maybe five minutes, six at the outside.”
“Get the SPEED Cobras in there!” Amanda snapped. “Engage targets! Take those bastards out!
“Belay that order!” Admiral MacIntyre said heavily. “Do not engage!”
Amanda twisted to face him. “Elliot, that column is moving on the embassy. They’ll be there in a matter of minutes!”
“Take a look at the strike environment, Amanda. That column is passing through a
dense residential area. Those are apartment complexes on either side of that
avenue, and it’s outside of the central city district. The Indonesians haven’t evacuated those buildings!”
He didn’t have to elaborate. Given the cracker box construction common in Asia, putting fire into the enemy column in the close confines of the city streets would cause what was euphemistically referred to as “collateral damage” on a massive scale: civilian casualties, men, women and children.
Elliot was right and she slammed her palm down onto the console top. “Damn, damn, damn! Put me through to Strike Lead.”
Arkady’s voice came up in her headset in a matter of seconds, speaking over rotor
thunder. “This is strike lead ’by. What’s up, Captain?”
“New target! Non-lethal! Armor inbound from the Glodok sector toward Merdeka
Square. Hit them with the Pigeye flight. Try and slow them down.”
Amanda was fully aware that matching non-lethal weaponry against a real combat unit using blood armament was not sound doctrine. The rebels need have no concerns at all about putting their own people at risk while the United States would be crucified by the world media if they didn’t make every effort to minimize civilian casualties, even to the point of placing American lives, the lives of her people, at risk.
But whoever said the Universe was fair?
“Acknowledged.” Arkady sounded dubious. “Pigeye flight on the way!”
Amanda forced herself on to other concerns. “What’s the status on the Embassy evacuation? How many more lift flights to go?”
It was MacIntyre answered. “SPEED Hawk Echo is on the ground now with Foxtrot holding to land. Foxtrot is
the last evac bird.”
“Then maybe we can beat them out.” She turned to the Duty Officer. “The Firebase and the Special Boat Sections are to commence an immediate
withdrawal. They can’t do us any more good – so get them out of there. Have the Sky Island sniper sites stand by. AIRBOSS,
this is the Captain. Move your crisis flight to the inshore check line and get
on with SPEED Hawk Foxtrot. Tell them to expedite the extraction. We’re running out of time!”
Ancol (Dream) Park, Jakarta
2346 Hours; Zone Time, October 31, 2008
“We’re pulling out! Fall back! Mount up!
The mortar crews horsed their weapons – base plates, tubes, bipods and all – up the tail ramps of the AAAVs, not bothering with conventional tie-down procedures. Around the firebase perimeter, the thin line of Marines and Rangers collapsed upon itself, the ground fighters backing toward their vehicles, blazing into the darkness in a concentrated mad minute of full autofire.
Standing close offshore, the RIB gunboats emptied their shot lockers, raking the probing Indonesian troops with a focused hail of grenades and machinegun fire.
At the tailgate of each track, squad leaders counted and double counted every man back aboard.
“We’re in! We’re all in! We’re good! Go, go, go!”
Ramps lifted and slammed closed.
“Track Lead to all track elements! Commence extraction! Cover your sectors!
Maintain firing!”
Turrets traversed, autocannon and co-axial machine guns snapping off bursts. The
AAAVs backed slowly down the beach, the sea boiling up around their hulls. With
pursuing bullets glancing off their armored hides and waterspouts lifting
around them, the big war machines wallowed back into the safety of the night.
Sky Island Alpha, Jakarta
