Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [81]
Jackson knew that their ammunition count was starting to get low. Rocky was probably down to his last two rounds, and G-Man couldn’t have much more than half his load for the rail gun left. The best move they could make would be to withdraw under cover, peel back, and run. Maybe if they made things expensive enough for the Eluoi, they could hold them off until dark, whenever the hell that might be. Then he would order the men to break up and follow their escape-and-evasion training as individuals. E&E training hadn’t covered trying to hide on an alien planet, but it was worth a chance, considering that the other two options seemed to be to get the detachment wiped out here or to surrender.
Even as he considered the situation, his men were adjusting the odds against them. Pulling up Baby, G-Man shouted, “Fire in the hole!” and pulled the trigger. The backblast tore the trees and shrubs behind him but did far worse damage to one of the jetcars as the copper and uranium slug punched through the nose plate and ripped into the interior of the craft. A massive gout of flaming debris shot out the rear of the aircraft, and the transport dropped like a stone. Nobody made it out.
Even as the first target was impacting the ground, G-Man wrenched the big gun around and fired off another round. This one hit an aircraft in the flank, punching through one engine, sending searing bits of metal tearing through the hull like it was tinfoil. The second Eluoi jetcar was destroyed in the green flash of the copper plasma, and it crashed right on top of a half dozen infantrymen who had been advancing across the grassy field. The approaching enemy forces were stunned for a moment and in disarray. It was time to go. One man, an officer to judge from the gold braid on his sleeves, stood up and tried to order his men forward until Falco blew his head apart with a well-aimed slug from his squirrel gun.
But there were too many Eluoi. A glance to either side showed that they were closing in on the fringe of the grove to both flanks. If the SEALS stayed there at the edge of the grove, they could pin down the men in front of them, but they’d be caught like rats in a trap once the flanking forces moved in.
“Leapfrog rear,” Jackson shouted. “Master Chief, Rocky, on me, base. Harris, Falco, G-Man, back! Teal, find us a back door!”
Grabbing the consul, Jackson pulled her down next to him. He slung the plasma gun from his back and picked up his G15 again. Conserving ammunition, he switched the weapon to semiautomatic and started punching out single shots to hold the Eluoi at bay. While Ruiz and Rocky also put out fire, the other SEALS withdrew, peeling back to the left so that they wouldn’t cross in front of their Teammates’ line of fire. They all moved back about thirty meters, turned, and took cover. The only one who didn’t stop was Teal, who continued to move back to find an avenue of escape.
The Eluoi infantry before them dashed up to the edge of the grove, spraying the trees with fire. The plasma guns didn’t seem to be very useful in the foliage: The beams could burn the shit out of a leafy limb, but the resulting smoke and sTeam seemed to dissipate the energy burst, robbing it of most of its power to hit anything beyond ten or fifteen meters. But their slugs went whistling and chipping through the trees, thwacking into trunks, snapping small branches, buzzing like bees past the heads of the cautious, ducking SEALS.
The volley of return fire from the Team was, of necessity, much lighter than what their attackers were pouring onto them. Still, their marksmanship and steadiness under fire and the strength of their defensive position allowed them to make their shots count.