Side Show Read Online Free PDF

we left, and it just doesn't make any sense. Blow a week's worth of munitions to send us out into the middle of nowhere, a thousand klicks from the action." Wasting ammunition was something that had to bother any veteran of the Porter campaign, where the entire 13th had virtually run out of everything from wire to Wasp rockets and Havoc shells.
    "They don't pay us to understand the big shots," Joe said. "We just obey orders." The exhaustion in his voice was only partially physical. He had also been trying to guess what their mission might be, with as little success.
    "Hey, Sarge!" Both Joe and Ezra turned.
    "I think we've got us a concussion," Al Bergon said.
    "Who?" Ezra got it out first.
    "Eames. He whacked his head good, early on, while all the fireworks was goin' on around us. I just had a chance to give him the once-over."
    "You get to Doc Eddies yet?" Joe asked. Eddies was the company's senior medtech, more than a medic, not quite a full doctor. He could handle anything short of invasive surgery, but the need for that was rare, thanks to trauma tubes and medical nanobots.
    "He said he'll try to get to us before we take off, but he's got a couple of others in the same shape or worse."
    "Damn buckets," Ezra muttered under his breath. Louder, he asked, "Where's Eames now?"
    Bergon pointed. "There against the side of the mixer."
    Frain put his helmet back on and lowered the visor so he could use the night-vision gear. "He get cut?"
    "Naw, but he's got a lump the size of his nose. I put a soaker over it." A soaker was a bandage impregnated with analgesics and simple repair nanobots, molecular medics.
    "Anything more Doc could do?" Joe asked.
    "Probably not, but he might be able to tell if there's a skull fracture," Al said.
    "You think he might?" Ezra asked.
    "I doubt it, but I can't be sure without pictures."
    "Neither could the doc," Joe said.
    "I'll keep an eye on him," Al said. "But if he doesn't get better, any chance of medevac?"
    "Skipper said no way," Joe said. "Whatever this lark is, we're completely on our own."
    Whatever this is. Joe turned away from the others. He could make a vague guess. They were being sent to something specific. There had to be some reason for sending two thousand men crosscountry on a world still dominated by the enemy. What that reason might be eluded Joe. Something or someone, and neither made a lot of sense. What, or who, could be worth risking the lives of two thousand men?
    Twenty minutes later, when the order came to mount up again, Joe had come no closer to finding a guess he was happy with.
    —|—
    The break had scarcely been long enough for Van Stossen to conduct a hurried conference with his staff. Major Dezo Parks, his executive officer; Major Bal Kenneck, intelligence; and Major Teu Ingels, operations—each was riding in a separate vehicle to minimize the effect of a lucky enemy hit. They had their own radio channels so that they could talk privately, but it was never the same as a face-to-face. Those three officers were the only men in the 13th, other than the colonel, who knew virtually all of the details of their mission.
    "We've got three really dangerous transits," Kenneck said when Stossen asked for his assessment. "These two rivers." He pointed to a mapboard open on the ground in the center of the group. "And, of course, the last fifteen klicks, in the valley leading to Telchuk, that's too narrow, with too little cover. If we get hit in there by substantial enemy assets, we're finished. It's as simple as that."
    "Teu?" Stossen asked.
    "One thing is obvious," Ingels replied. "We can't take Havocs into that valley. Not only isn't there room for them to maneuver, in a couple of places they couldn't even turn around. I think we should disperse them to these two areas, here... and here." He pointed out the locations on the mapboard. "That way, they can give us effective covering fire while we're in the danger zone. And if we post a couple of recon platoons near the ridge