Chapter 2

Crossing a desert is no fun. Crossing a desert in battle armor is downright nasty. While tempers flared along with the sweat glands, the men contemplated the news of the previous evening. Big D hadn't said a word except for a few grunts to Hippie at the COMM console. After an unsuccessful attempt at lightening the situation by starting a round of Row, Row, Row Your Boat, I decided to shut up.

"Hey, Gan," Beef said, coming up on my left, "what's for lunch?"

"How about a sandwich?" I quipped. I barely had time to duck the huge fist swinging in my direction. "Hey, just kidding!" I said a little sorely. "Don't you guys think with anything other than your stomachs?" I hurried myself to the head of the line where Big D was breaking a path through the low scrub. "Boss, how's about we break for lunch?"

"No." was the terse reply I received. "If they want something, pass out hardtack. We aren't stopping."

"... okay." I decided not to delve into the matter any further. Slowly making my way to the back of the line, I passed out hardtack rations to the men as I passed them. I got a couple of confused looks, but a shake of my head kept them plodding along.

It was about 2100 hours when we finally broke camp behind a low rise in the never-ending scenery. Sighs of relief echoed throughout the throng of hot, sweaty people. Big D slowly walked in my direction as I was breaking out the portable camp stoves for a much needed meal. I knew that if I didn't make something in a hurry, I'd have some terrible monsters breathing down my neck for some chow.

"No fires." Big D almost whispered.

"What?" I shot back. "These guys are probably hungry enough to eat a whole cow! Each!!"

"You know that hardtack's got all the nutrition they need to keep going." he explained to me.

"I do know that, but that's not going to satisfy the hunger." I mumbled. "I'll toss in some jerky from that dewback Mech got for us last month." The boss man gave a nod and beckoned for another warrior to join him. I slowly started packing up the stoves hoping to get an ear in edgewise to the conversation being held, but they walked off toward the perimeter of the small camp. I pulled out the last of the jerky from the coffers of my "chuck wagon" as the cronies liked to call my field kitchen. Passing out the hardtack once again, I got many more dirty looks, but after pulling a hunk of jerky from an ear or nose or some other bodily orifice, the frowns slowly melted.

About an hour after the meal was given out, Big D stepped into what could be termed the middle of the encampment and raised a hand for all to listen.

"As you all know, we have a large contingent of enemy gathering somewhere to the South-East of our position." he started. "And you may also know that we're pretty much the only Blood Eagle faction in the area." There were a few nods, as well as shakes of the head, out in the crowd. "We've been given the task to destroy this small army!" Big D threw out, looking at the reaction of his men.

Beef spoke first. "How in the living hell are thirty-two or so men supposed to take on over five hundred? I know we're a bunch of bad-asses, but not freaking suicidal bad-asses!"

"Yeah!" chipped in a few other voices from the throng while the rest of the crowd mumbled to a neighbor.

Again, Big D raised his hand for silence and spoke. "We have a report from Base Bravo that some of our guys have infiltrated the Diamond Sword and are included in the group we now face. Plans for a little subterfuge are in the works, but will only work if we can hold up our end."

I couldn't help but speak up. "I know we've got some pretty big guys here, but that seems like a pretty heavy end to hold!" I noticed our leader's small nod. "So what are we supposed to do?" I asked.

"Supposedly, the enemy has chosen an abandoned spaceport of unknown origin, to gather their forces. The group of two-hundred is now on a forced march to reach the others in two days." He paused to take a large breath. "According to intel reports, we are only a few hours away from the spaceport, as you can tell by the glow coming from over there." He slowly pointed to the back of the crowd. Every head not already facing that direction slowly swiveled in the direction of his finger. "At 0330 hours, we've been told that the infiltrators are going to distract the main force. That's when we attack."

"How in the heck are they going to distract three hundred men?" I asked. "Hold a sunrise striptease?" A few appreciative chuckles floated my way.

"We don't know." Answered the towering man. "Although, we will know when it happens." Hippie suddenly stepped up to Big D and handed him a sheet of thermal paper. D thanked him and looked up at the group. "It looks as if we have a satellite recon photo here." He lifted the paper for a casual inspection. "And it looks like our chances may be better off than we originally thought."

Splitting up into our predefined groups, Beef, Hippie and Big D set about the task of explaining the plan of attack. The spaceport, we came to find out, was situated in a natural depression in the desert forming a bowl in the landscape. Sentries were posted only a few meters out from the perimeter of the main building complex. The troops were being held in two large storage bays that used to hold spacecraft. The only thing that worried me, but I didn't mention, was that from the edge of the bowl to the perimeter of the base, we were going to be a bunch of sitting ducks. Hopefully, this so-called distraction would draw the attention of the sentries, making our snipers much more effective. The plans discussed, we settled down for a short, very uncomfortable, sleep.

0330 hours. In the desert, this is a very peaceful time. All the carnivores that prowl at night are heading back to their respective lairs to sleep off the coming day. All except for a group of thirty-two beasts in full power armor letting loose an almost physical cloud of adrenaline into the night air. We had set up our fire teams in a ring around the depression. Listening to the quiet static crackling in our headsets, we waited for the signal.