Chapter 9

Admiral Schirra strode to his office and opened his terminal, then he opened the envelope and extracted the document. It was encoded, even the typeface was part of the code. He put the document in his scanner, then looked at his terminal. The terminal scanned his eye’s retina to determine his ID, then displayed the document on his screen. “Shit,” he said in a small voice.

Then he thought for a moment and called the communications office. “Do me a favor, call Captain Scarlett at his private residence. If your call isn’t answered, let it ring. When someone answers, patch it through to my office.”

“What if they don’t answer?”

“You wait. She’s disabled, but she’ll answer. She has to.”

He selected a form he hasn’t used since he was a fighter jock himself flying the FB-155 torpedo bombers. The admiral quickly filled it out and sent it to the remaining marines on Thundering Waters Space Force Base. He had his reply from the marine post on Thundering Waters SFB before his call from Admiral Scarlett’s house was answered. Soon Marcie Dunlop appeared on the screen. “Gunny Dunlop, this is Admiral Walter Schirra.”

“Yes sir, I recognize you,” said the disabled Marine. She looked like she just woke up, which was most likely because it was close to midnight there. Marcy lost two legs and an arm in the Battle of Venus Prime and was a regular visitor to Alan and Pandora’s house. The kids loved her, and Buddy, Alan’s golden retriever, was Marcy’s constant companion, rarely wandering more than a dozen feet away from her.

“I initiated a 9-Line message,” said Admiral Schirra. “You have less than one hour to get packed.”

Marcy was confused. A 9-Line message is a request for medevac. “Wait, me? Sir, I may be bent but I’m not broken.”

“Yes, you are, gunnery sergeant. Evac will be enroute shortly. Do not let me down.”

“Aye aye sir.” Marcy wheeled into the bedroom that was set up for her by Alan and Pandora. They enjoyed it when Marcy stayed at their house, and it seemed to help both Marcy and Alan to have a fellow survivor of the battle of Venus Prime around. Then Marcy considered Pandora. She put an end to Venus prime by attacking the station with four B-171 bombers. They sneaked up on the station, silent as a snake, and blew the living shit out of it. No survivors. She may have killed four thousand people, maybe double that. They have no way of knowing. If she was there a few seconds earlier, she would have vaporized her husband. That’s got to mess with your brain.

Marcy wheeled into her room and grabbed everything she could, including her prosthetic legs, and threw them into her A3 bag, then re attached her prosthetic arm and moved toward the front door. She had her A3 bag on her lap and Buddy was nuzzled up to her right side as she waited. The sweet dog rested his chin on her thigh, and she petted him with her remaining limb.

The whining shriek of an ALS/APC filled the house as the Air Land Sea/Armored Personnel Carrier touched down on the front lawn and four marines burst through the front door. “Gunny Dunlop!” a marine staff sergeant called out.

“Yes?” said Marcy. The marine that called her name looked shocked when she answered him. Maybe he didn’t expect Gunnery Sergeant Dunlop to be a paraplegic in a wheelchair, or maybe he didn’t expect Gunnery Sergeant Dunlop to be a paraplegic in a wheelchair, pointing a pistol at him. “My dog Buddy comes with or I’m staying.”

“No problem gunny. Come on Buddy, let’s go for a ride!”

The four marines wheeled Marcy out to the ALS/APC with Buddy happily following. They hoisted her in, and Buddy hopped in and sat happily next to her. The doors slammed closed and Marcy, along with Buddy and five marines took off into the night. “What is going on Marine?” she demanded in her best Marine voice.

“I don’t know gunny, we just got orders to get the hell out of dodge and bring you with us,” said the leader, a Staff Sergeant.

“Every squid and grunt on Thundering Waters has been mobilized,” said a Private.

Just then, the Marine corporal in the gunner’s seat called “Rocket in the air!” Marcy looked at the side window in time to see Alan and Pandora’s dream house explode into ten million splinters. “Source that launch and engage!” shouted Marcy.

“Gunny, we don’t have orders to...”

“I just gave you your orders!” she pulled her prosthetic leg from her A3 bag and swung it around as she shouted, “Gunner, don’t make me come up there and kick your ass! Find them! Kill them!”