Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [9]
Each man would have his standard firearm—the G15 assault rifle in most cases—as well as a sidearm and some kind of bladed weapon. G-Man LaRue, of course, would have Baby; Derek Falco, the sniper, would take his “squirrel gun” and Rocky Rodale would have his M76 handheld missile launcher. When they opened up with everything, the SEALS could put out a volume of fire that would have stricken awe into the hearts of any World War II battalion.
Chiefs Harris and Ruiz went with the coxswains to check out the two drop boats. Those small shuttles carried eight men—that is, half the Team—in each one, as well as a great deal of equipment and ammunition. With a crew of three, the drop boats were armed with a single turret-mounted chain gun and several missiles, including two Mark 90 tactical nuclear devices. Named Tommy and Mikey after legendary SEALs, the boats had rocket engines that allowed them to maneuver in space and set down on a planet with up to twice the equivalent of Earth’s gravity. They were capable of taking off only from low-gravity bodies, but the primary mission of the drop boats was to get the SEALS into position. The details of extracting the Team sometimes had to be worked out later.
While the men’s preparations went on, Jackson returned to the CIC and followed the painfully slow data collection process.
“She seems to be in orbit around the star,” Carstairs noted, reading out the course they had plotted for the blinking green blip. “No sign of engine power.”
The Pegasus still was decelerating under high power, but the crew stood comfortably on the deck because the inertial dampening system (IDS) limited the gravitation effect to a single G. This meant that they were essentially “backing” toward the target, but that was not a significant disadvantage.
“One reason I’m glad we mounted that particle cannon in the stern,” the captain allowed, acutely conscious of the unknown presence out there in space, trying to anticipate any eventuality. “We’ll go in with our eyes open and our fingers on the trigger.”
“Captain. We’re getting a clearer picture,” said one of the sailors at the vidscreens. “I think the Lotus might have broken in two, sir.”
Jackson saw immediately that the green blip had separated into two spots, with the increased resolution no doubt the result of the frigate’s steadily closing range to target. Carstairs scrutinized the image, shifting to a filter that emphasized the infrared (IR) emissions of the target. As the blips gained more definition, they took on long, slender shapes suggestive of a spaceship—or two spaceships.
“I think the Lotus has some unwelcome company,” Carstairs said. He turned to one of his com specialists. “Send a message to Admiral Ballard on the Pangaea. Tell him we’re still investigating; we’ll report more detail as it becomes available.”
“Yes, sir.” The technician started typing the message. Jackson was impressed by the dearth of information in the communication; he agreed that for now, Admiral Ballard didn’t need to be told anything more than what was absolutely necessary.
Captain Carstairs glanced at the chronometer and turned his attention to the SEALS officer. “Fifty-five minutes