Overlord (58 page)

Both Alice and Pete looked over at Matchstick.

“I don’t know about you, Alice,” Pete said, “but I can really live without that.”

CAMP ALAMO

ANTARCTICA

On the fifteenth try the mixed units of Delta and SEALs finally broke through the composite hatch of the power distribution vehicle mock-up. Everett was pleased when he realized that combining the teams and mixing specialists had paid off. Doubly pleased thanks to the Chinese government, which had been so pleased by the return of the 7th Fleet to assist in rescue operations of their seamen that they had sent several large fragments of the downed saucer from the wreckage of Beijing. That made the ingress into the power supply ship realistic in that regard. They had found out that their protective shield was only good when the cables were deployed and a grid was activated because, as the DARPA and General Electric technicians had explained, the shield grid was only viable when the interconnecting cables were in contact with the next, and the next, and so on. So if they hadn’t planned on setting their shield up in space, Carl’s men actually stood a chance of breaking in with the explosive teams.

Carl was drying his hair with a towel after exiting the freezing pool and was approached by Anya Korvesky. She was smiling as she pecked the admiral on the cheek. He looked up and saw to his relief that his men were still in the process of being lifted from the pool and hadn’t seen.

“Okay, I give up, Major. What’s got you so happy?” He tossed the towel at her, wrapping it around her face.

She laughed and removed the damp towel. “Because the whole time I’ve been on this mission I couldn’t understand why I was chosen to be here by the general. Now I do. I thought I was going to be condemned to sit here like a frog on a log while everyone else was doing something worthwhile.”

“That’s
bump
on a log, darlin,’ not a frog.”

“What? I always thought it was a frog,” she said in all seriousness.

“Again, why so happy? And no witty Americanisms, please,” Carl said, finally breaking out in a smile.

“I have a gift of the Israeli government for Operation Overlord,” she said as five SAS soldiers rolled in a large wheeled cart with four bright yellow aluminum containers strapped down to it. Carl saw the nuclear warning device emblem stamped on them and stood up with his eyes locked on the containers.

“Okay, you have my attention.” He glanced at the major out of the corner of his eye. “And if you want a frog on the log, that’s okay too, because any woman that carries around that kind of firepower can say whatever the hell she wants.”

Anya Korvesky smiled. “Good.”

“Now, explain your gift,” he said as his men started to gather around in various states of dress. They saw what was on the four-wheeled cart and one of the SEALs whistled.

“General Shamni realized, once he read what charge would be used on the power production saucer, that your battlefield ‘backpack’ nukes were a little small and rather bulky; the megatonnage was lacking, in his opinion. So after conferring with your General Caulfield he decided to give you one of Israel’s most guarded secrets: the Horn of Gabriel. Or rather,
Horns
of Gabriel, plural. Ten times the size of your American backpack nukes for each of the twelve units and packing one hell of a lot bigger punch.”

Everett and the team leaders of both the SEALs and Delta approached the cart and looked the boxes over. Each man had been briefed and had trained on setting off the American versions of the weapon, but were now doubly anxious to see this rather bizarre Israeli surprise.

“How big of a punch?” Carl asked with due respect.

“Twenty megatons each. Each unit can be carried by one man. I believe that will be double the amount needed to blow anything up.”

Both SEALs and Delta teams smiled as they exchanged looks, knowing they had just found a new best friend in Major Anya Korvesky.

*   *   *

The arrival of Lord Durnsford caused quite a stir among the hierarchy of the Overlord staff. Sir Darcy, Admiral Kinkaid, and Admiral Huffington watched along with the gentleman from MI6 as he studied the training exercise in the large mock-up of the number one gun turret. The sides were cut away to give the Royal Navy evaluation teams clear access to view the loading and firing procedures of the gun crew, all fifty-six of them.

They had already lost one of the real mounts on HMS
Garrison Lee
’s number five turret on the underside superstructure that placed it out of action early this morning, when one of the shipyard workers inadvertently struck one of the thick coolant lines with a cutting torch, touching off a large chain reaction when the explosive gases mixed together in the oxygen-rich environment. The resulting explosion killed sixty-one yard workers, most of whom were working on the outside of the turret while performing their jobs on the elevated scaffolding that was needed to get to the upside-down superstructure. These were yard personnel that could not be replaced due to the time restraints and the strict requirements of the security background checks involved.

Lord Durnsford, the leader of the world’s effort on Overlord, watched the gun crew inside the mock-up insert the particle canister into the large-bored breach and then slam the tube closed. They stepped back and covered their ears as the power surge from the generators began to pump over a thousand cubic feet of Argon gas into the mixing chamber just forward of the gun’s breach. As the power built to 100 percent the first blast of nitrogen gas was injected into the tungsten-lined barrel, effectively freezing the hybrid steel before the shock of the blazing hot laser fired. The simulation went off without a hitch as the blank round of canister shot pellets, small steel ball-bearing-sized shrapnel injected into the barrel to be carried by the electrical impact of the light weapon and then pushed through the thirty-five foot gun. Once it neared the tip of the crystal the pellets were redirected around the light enhancement crystal so as not to blow it apart, and then once outside of the barrel the light wave would carry the particle beam shot at the speed of light to its intended target. The bolt of steel-infused light, a particle beam in essence, would slam into an enemy vessel, ripping its target area like a shotgun blast. Then a blast of nitrogen coolant would be flushed through the barrel to cool it before the next loading process began anew.

“I’m glad to see we worked out the damaged crystal mishaps,” Durnsford said. “That was fast becoming an expensive proposition.”

The gunnery officers had made adjustments to the redirection of the canister shot after numerous mishaps had not directed the steel pellets far enough around the expensive light enhancement crystals, causing them to be smashed by their own gunfire.

“Yes, it took our American colleagues at Raytheon far longer than we would have thought to reverse-engineer the barrel openings. The rifling that sent the pellets around the crystals were installed backwards from the original Martian design.” Sir Darcy hoped the explanation didn’t bring on the famous temper from the gentleman from MI6.

“What is the status of the number five turret?” he asked as he watched the two hundred welding machines at work trying to repair the platform.

“Not as fast as we would like. After all, the men have to work precariously upside down and it gets rather tiresome, I am told. We are having to switch crews far too often. The turret may not be available when the time arrives.”

“In other words, due to tired crews and careless workmen we may have lost one-third of her firepower?”

Lord Durnsford took a deep breath and then looked away from his battleship. He needed Niles Compton here to assist him in holding his famed temper at the lack of progress. He faced his number two man in Sir Darcy Bennett.

“Tell me the fame that preceded our infamous Professor Jenks has paid dividends?”

“I’m pleased to say that the former naval master chief was everything he was advertised to be. The escape pods for not just half, but the full complement of crewmen have been installed ahead of schedule. The two assault craft are complete and ready to go.”

Lord Durnsford raised his bushy brows in surprise.

“It’s just that Jenks is the most disagreeable bastard I have ever had the displeasure to know.”

“Yes, Dr. Compton warned us about that.”

“Yes, that may be, but I wish we had ten more engineers like him, regardless of his feelings toward the established way of doing things.” Admiral Kinkaid defended his Navy man as best he could, no matter how hard it was.

Durnsford stepped back from his elevated view of the dockyard and faced all three men. “When will the power plant test take place?”

It was Admiral Huffington’s turn to speak. “We have already powered her up and it didn’t blow up the bloody ship, but now I’m afraid to push our luck.”

“I am not in the mood for humor, Admiral. I’m quite tired and still have to meet with General Collins and Admiral Everett and field their vast concerns.”

“It wasn’t an attempt at humor, my lord, but the God’s honest truth. All we have in hand is the plans supplied by Dr. Compton. If that alien bloke is off by the smallest parameter in his engineering, we could very well blow up half of the bloody continent of Antarctica.”

“Admiral, Mr. Mahjtic has been right on with all of his calculations thus far, has he not?”

“But something with this much power…” Huffington stopped when Durnsford held up a restraining hand.

“He was an engineer in his slave capacity, was he not? He was also a crewman on a saucer, was he not?”

“Yes, so the Americans claim.”

Durnsford shot Huffington an angry look and then narrowed his eyes underneath his glasses.

“Niles Compton believes everything Mr. Mahjtic has said in his many thousand hours of debriefing. I have had a chance to personally do so. I will not hear another excuse about your having doubts on his ability. As I recall you two forward-thinking geniuses were adamantly opposed to having a mere Navy master chief on your design team.” He paused for the briefest of moments and then exploded. “And he’s the only engineer that delivered what he promised!”

The men lowered their heads as they realized how wrong they had been to doubt the small alien engineer.

Durnsford calmed himself with a look to his friend, Sir Darcy.

“Gentlemen, I expect the test no later than 2200 hours this night. Due to unforeseen developments our timetable for launch of the
Lee
has been pushed up. The enemy has made a mistake caught by the very being you have doubted all along. We know where they are going to place their power disbursement vessel, and the HMS
Garrison Lee
is going to be there to meet it.”

All three men were stunned at the announcement.

“Now, no more delays, gentlemen. I appreciate the hard work and sacrifice, but now is the time for action and not doubt.” He turned and looked down at the men working and those training. “We owe them that, don’t you think?”

With that Lord Durnsford turned and left with Sir Darcy in tow.

“My old friend Dr. Compton is awake in Washington. We have hopes that the president will soon follow, but he may not be awake in time to stem the crazed orders of that madman occupying that particularly powerful office. General Collins will have his hands full if he has only the air cover of our very limited Sea Harriers. Now I have to go and tell Collins that good news.” Durnsford paused and then eyed his friend closely. “Tell me the crew of that bloody ship is ready and that Commodore Freemantle can do the job.”

“He’ll be meeting with us, General Collins, and Admiral Everett. I think that question has to be put forth by you, my friend. Freemantle will know the true gravity of the situation then.”

“Why will he meet with the Americans?”

“Because the commodore needs to look in the eyes of the men that will be responsible for allowing him the time to get the
Lee
in the air, and once it is there to make sure his one-way trip is not for nothing. Also because he needs to see two Americans that don’t give a good goddamn who he is or what his reputation for being a hard-ass is.”

*   *   *

Jack had toured the storage areas for the equipment and logistics needed by the two airborne divisions and inspected armor in place at the dispersed location where the Army Corps of Engineers had dug out emplacements for the Panzer division. Without maneuvers, his men were as ready as they would ever be. He and Everett, who said his assault teams would never be prepared enough for their mission, sat and waited for an important meet and greet with the commander of the HMS
Garrison Lee
. Jack turned to his friend.

“You’re going with your men, aren’t you?”

Everett smiled and then looked at Jack from across the table. He knew before the meeting what was going to brought up between his friend and himself.

“I can’t let them go out there without me, Jack, just like you’re going to place your ass on the line up there when the time comes. I’m taking Ryan with me, if that makes you feel better. The little bastard gave me those hurt puppy-dog eyes when he learned I’m going. Besides, the commander can keep me company on that flying death trap they named after our friend. Can you see Lee right now if he knew what the name was on the fantail of that crate?”

Jack snorted laughter at the thought. Garrison Lee would have screamed bloody murder over the honor and then limped up a scaffold and personally scratched his name from the fantail.

“I clandestinely took a picture of the name and secretly used Europa to send it to Alice.” He looked away for a brief moment. “I think she’ll get a kick out of seeing it.”

Carl removed his wristwatch and looked at it. He then offered it to Jack.

“Look, if it makes you feel better, go ahead and keep it for me until I get back.”

Again Jack laughed lightly. “No, as Henri said, time paradox and all of that Isaac Asimov crap. Just bring it back in one piece, swabby.”

Everett looked at the watch and then slid it back over his thick wrist. “I’ll do what I can to do just that, General.”