Executive orders - Tom Clancy [631]
Wait a minute, what's the beef here?
No beef. I just want to know what that smell is. Fair enough?
We're going to have it looked at.
You're going to have it looked at right now, gentlemen. He gestured. If you would, please?
The cop followed them out, got back into his car, and drove behind them as they walked to the truck. They were talking back and forth. Something just wasn't right. His fellow highway cops were not terribly busy at the moment, and on instinct he called another car for backup, and told his headquarters to run the truck tag. That done, he got out and looked up at the truck again.
You want to turn it over?
Okay, sure. Brown got in and cranked the engine which was noisy enough.
What is going on here? the cop asked Holbrook Could I see some identification, please?
Hey, I don't understand what the beef is.
No beef, sir, but I do want to see your ID.
Pete Holbrook pulled out his wallet as another police car arrived. Brown saw it, too, looked down to see Holbrook's wallet in his hand, and the cop's hand on the butt of his pistol. It was just the way cops stood, but Brown didn't think of that. Neither Mountain Man had a gun handy. They had them in their room, but hadn't thought to carry them to breakfast. The policeman took Pete's driver's license, then walked back to his car, lifting the microphone-
The tag is clean, not in the computer as hot, the lady at the station informed him.
Thank you. He tossed the mike back inside and walked back to Peter Holbrook, twirling the license in his hand-
Brown saw a cop with his friend, another cop, they'd just talked on the radio-
The highway patrolman looked up in surprise as the truck jerked forward. He yelled and pointed for the man to stop. The second car moved to block him, and then the cement truck did stop. That did it. Something was just not right.
Out! he shouted, his pistol in his hands now. The second officer took control of Holbrook, not having a clue what this was all about. Brown stepped down, and felt his collar grabbed and himself thrust against the body of the truck. What is the matter with you? the cop demanded. It would take hours to find out, and then a very interesting time at the truck stop.
THERE WAS NOTHING for him to do but scream, and that, uncharacteristically, he did. The video was undeniable. There was an instant respectability to global TV, and he couldn't stop it from going out. The affluent in his country had their own satellite dishes, and so did many others, including little neighborhood groups. What would he do now? Order them turned off?
Why aren't they attacking? Daryaei demanded.
The Army commander and all corps commanders are off the air. We have some contact with two of our divisions only. One brigade reported it is heading north with enemy forces in pursuit.
And?
And our forces have been defeated, Intelligence said.
But how?
Does that matter?
THEY CAME ON north. Buffalo came on south. UIR III Corps didn't know what lay ahead. The discovery took place in midafternoon. Masterman's 1st Squadron had so far eliminated a hundred or so fuel and other trucks, more than the other two battalions. The only question now was how much resistance the enemy would display. From air coverage, he knew exactly where the advancing force was, in what strength and concentration, and in what direction. It was much easier than the last time he'd seen action.
A-Troop was screening in advance, with B and C three klicks back, and the tank company in reserve. As fearful a pounding as their UIR forces were taking, he decided not to use his own artillery yet. No sense warning them that tanks were close by. With. contact less than ten minutes away, he shifted A-Troop to the right. Unlike the first-and only previous-battle in his career, Duke Masterman wouldn't really see this one. Instead, he listened to it on the radio.
A-Troop engaged at extreme range with both gun tubes and TOW missiles, and crumpled the first ragged line of vehicles. The troop commander estimated