Task Force Mars - Kevin Dockery [84]
“Listen,” he said awkwardly. “We don’t have much of a chance here. But there’s no sense you going down with us. Maybe you could go to them and, you know, surrender. I don’t think they’d hurt you. It’s us they’re after.”
“That is a kind thought,” she said, looking at him very seriously, her face about twenty centimeters from his. “But I think I belong with the SEALS now.”
The impulse was too strong to ignore, and he leaned in and kissed her very lightly on her full red lips.
She blinked. “That was a surprise,” she noted.
“Uh, yeah. It was for me, too,” Harris allowed. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have—I don’t know what the hell—”
“Do not be sorry,” she said, leaning close and kissing him back. “I liked it.”
It was all Harris could do to spin around and shoot, but he knew the Eluoi were too close to ignore. “Of all the rotten timing,” he muttered to himself as he saw at least six or seven of the enemy infantry closing in on the little park bench redoubt.
Jackson was saving the last magazine for his G15. Using the plasma gun as the enemy closed in, he held them at bay, cutting smoky swaths through the sagging undergrowth. But every time he hit one of the enemy, there seemed to be two or even three more to take his place.
And he knew this was the condition of his Team all around the little perimeter. The SEALS were shooting only sporadically as the cross fire continued to get more intense.
Looking up, Jackson saw the calm eyes of Master Chief Ruiz. The SEALS would die at their officer’s command, but he was considering an order that was even harder for him to issue. As if sensing his agonizing quandary, Ruiz simply nodded, his dark eyes sympathetic and understanding.
“Dammit, this isn’t Horatio at the bridge,” Jackson said as he let his G15 drop down and hang in his hands. “We aren’t holding the pass while anyone makes their escape. And it sure as hell isn’t Fort Apache. There isn’t going to be any cavalry coming to the rescue.”
He stood up straight and turned to face the oncoming Eluoi. “Put up your weapons, SEALS,” he ordered. “This is not exactly an order I ever expected to give,” he added quietly, almost to himself.
A shadow flashed across the blossoms, and Jackson looked up to see three Eluoi jetcars roaring in a tight circle over the flower-dotted clearing. Landing gear lowered, they came to a halt in the air and started to drop vertically into the garden.
The envelopment was complete.
Fifteen: Fight in the Skies
Before Jackson could say another word, a streak of fire slashed across the sky and the nearest Eluoi jetcar exploded while it was a hundred meters off the ground. Fire and debris rained down from the air, bits of flaming oil spattering across the grass and trees. Jackson wrenched his shoulder as he threw himself flat. Ignoring the pain, he covered his head with his arms, looking sideways to see the other SEALS protecting themselves with the same crude tactic. The ground shook underneath him as the smoldering body of the jetcar, one engine still whining, crashed to the ground in the middle of the garden.
Fuel spilled out, a shimmering sprawl of burning liquid gushing closer to them. Blistering heat seared the lieutenant’s hands, growing quickly to a dangerous onslaught as the fire continued to spread.
“Move!” he cried, pushing himself to his feet. The others were already in action. Harry Teal took a moment to grab the lieutenant by his good hand and pull him along. They all scrambled across the flat ground and tumbled into the cover of the trees as the burning fuel quickly consumed itself. The Eluoi soldiers in the woods took a few shots but backed off quickly as the SEALS replied in force. The enemy troops seemed shaken, perhaps by the new developments in the air battle; they showed little fight as they retreated from the aggressive Team.
“What the hell is going on?” LaRue demanded, looking skyward. His rail gun once again was cradled in