Executive orders - Tom Clancy [451]
That was a beautiful move, Hamm, the colonel of the Carolina Guard admitted, reaching in his pocket for a cigar and handing it over. But we'll whip your ass tomorrow.
Ordinarily, he would have smiled and said, Sure you will. But the cracker son of a bitch just might pull it off, and that would take a lot of the fun out of Hamm's life. The colonel of the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment would now have to come up with ways of spoofing IVIS. It was something he'd thought about, and had been the subject of a few discussions over beers with his operations officer, but so far they had only agreed that it was no small feat, probably involving dummy vehicles like Rommel had used. He'd have to get funding for those. He walked outside to smoke his cigar. It had been honorably won. He found the Guard colonel there, too.
For Guardsmen, you're pretty damned good, Hamm had to admit. He'd never said such a thing to a Guard formation before. He rarely said it to anyone at all. Except for one deployment error, the Blue Force plan had been a thing of beauty.
Thank you for saying that, Colonel. IVIS came as a rude surprise, didn't it?
You might say that.
My people love it. A lot come in on their own time to play on the simulators. Hell, I'm surprised you took us on this one.
Your reserve was too close in, Hamm told him. You thought you knew what to exploit. Instead, I caught you out of position to meet my counterattack. It wasn't a revelation. The senior observer/controller had made that lesson clear to the momentarily contrite tank commander.
I'll try to remember that. Catch the news?
Yeah, that sucks, Hamm thought aloud.
Little kids. I wonder if they award medals to the Secret Service?
They have something, I imagine. I can think of worse things to die for. And that's what it was all about. Those five agents had died doing their jobs, running to the sound of the guns. They must have made some mistakes, but sometimes you didn't have a choice in the matter. All soldiers knew that.
God rest their brave souls. The man sounded like Robert Edward Lee. It triggered something in Hamm.
What's the story on you guys? You, Colonel Eddington, you're not supposed-what the hell do you do in real life? The guy was over fifty, very marginal for an officer in command of a brigade, even in the Guard.
I'm professor of military history at the University of North Carolina. What's the story? This brigade was supposed to be the round-out for 24th Mech back in 1991, and we came here for workups and got our ass handed to us. Never got to deploy. I was a battalion XO then, Hamm. We wanted to go. Our regimental standards go back to the Revolution. It hurt our pride. We've been waiting to come back here near on ten years, boy, and this IVIS box gives us a fair chance. He was a tall, thin man, and when he turned, he was looking down at the regular officer. We are going to make use of that chance, son. I know the theory. I been readin' and studyin' on it for over thirty years, and my men ain't'a'gonna roll over and die for you, you he'ah? When aroused, Nicholas Eddington tended to adopt an accent.
Specially not for Yankees?
Damn right! Then it was time for a laugh. Nick Eddington was a teacher, with a flair for the impromptu dramatic. The voice softened. I know, if we didn't have IVIS, you'd murder us-
Ain't technology wonderful?
It almost makes us your equal, and your men are the best. Everybody knows that, Eddington conceded. It was a worthy peace gesture.
With the hours we keep, kinda hard to get a beer at the club when you need one. Can I offer you one at my home, sir?
Lead on,