Paul took off his helmet. It was freezing down here in the shadows of the gully. He checked for broken bones. The neck seemed good, but the man didn’t breathe.
Paul gave him mouth to mouth. He unsnapped the man’s body armor, pushed on the chest and hammered against the heart with his fist. Nothing helped. Sergeant Kline was dead. He must have drowned to death.
“What a stupid way to die,” Romo said.
Paul glared up at his blood bother. Would Romo have preferred to burn to death like the unlucky Venezuelans?
“Help me carry him to my machine,” Paul said.
Romo took his time answering.
“I don’t know how the Apaches did it,” Paul said, “but we’re not leaving his corpse for the enemy.”
“No,” Romo said. “You are right.”
It took work, and Paul panted by the time he reached his snowmobile. He tied the body to the back. What a worthless war. The Chinese, the Brazilians and their proxies—they should have all stayed home.
“You know what I think,” Paul said.
“Only some of the time,” Romo said.
“We have to make it hard and bloody and show everyone you don’t mess with the United States of America. This was a stupid way to die. You were right about that.”
“You are glad now we burned the Venezuelans?”
Paul stared north. “I didn’t start this war. All I know is that I’m going to do whatever it takes to finish it.”
“Si,” Romo said. “We will finish it.”
The two men roared away on their snowmobiles, heading for the pickup point.
NORTHEASTERN EDGE OF THE STATE, COLORADO
Colonel Higgins sat in the commander’s seat of his Behemoth tank. Computer screens faced him on three sides. A soft blue light glowed in the compartment. Outside, snow swirled, reducing visibility but doing nothing to slow the assault.
It was the third day of the great attack when Army Group Washington made its move. A screen of M2 Bradleys led the way, followed by M1A3 Abrams tanks. Stan followed them by a kilometer.
In this, General McGraw and Stan had agreed. Hit the Chinese hard from the beginning. Annihilate them fast with the Behemoths, with everything new that America possessed.
The giant tank churned over the flat, frozen landscape. This was the perfect territory to use the rail-guns. Almost, Stan felt pity for any Chinese tankers daring to take him on now.
“I’m going up,” Stan told the others.
Jose made a show of shivering.
Stan understood. None of the crew liked it when he opened the hatch. Cold air seeped down through the opening, stealing all the carefully built up warmth in the compartment. Despite the understanding, Stan had a duty to the Regiment. He could see a lot with his computer screens, but sometimes, he needed to see a thing with his own eyes.
He stood, shoved a woolen hat on his head so it covered his ears. He wrapped a scarf around his neck and zipped his coat all the way. Only then did he open the hatch and thrust his head and shoulders into the snowstorm.
Shivering from a blast of icy air, Stan hastily put on goggles. It was crazy out here, a real Arctic blizzard. Ominous gray clouds scudded low across the sky, while snow swirled all around. Behind him, he saw the giant, looming shapes of other Behemoth tanks. Visibility was practically zero. That didn’t matter. Now was the time to catch the Chinese, hopefully, by surprise.
Stan forced himself to stay up here out in the open, to feel the cold. This cold was an ally. They might gain a march on the enemy and hit the Chinese before they knew what was happening. Hit hard, hit from the start and gain as much ground as possible while the enemy was surprised.
Finally, Stan couldn’t take the freezing anymore. He slid inside and banged the hatch shut behind him. The heaters poured warmth out of the vents. He put his face in front of one and let it thaw him out.
“I have a message for you, Colonel,” Jose said.
Stan moved to his commander’s seat and put on a pair of headphones. “Colonel Higgins, here,” he said.
“Stan, this is Tom McGraw.”
“General,” Stan replied, waiting.
“SOCOM has some information for you. There are two divisions of T-66s heading to block your passage.”
“How did the Chinese find out we’re here?” Stan asked.
“I’m sure we’re not the only side with ground-based observers,” McGraw said.
“T-66s you said?” Stan asked.
“That’s right. Maybe the Chinese think they can slip those monsters in close and blast your tanks at close range. It’s the 14th