Chapter 12

Adam ran the calculations again. If he could get the harmonic frequency to match what he could do with a dolphin kick, then the long flipper he was going to attach to both feet would do half the work for him. In fact, if he had it figured right, he would set up a standing wave, once he got up to speed, and the flipper wouldn't paddle at the air, but undulate at the same speed of propagation as his forward speed.

He was back in his hometown of Ponce Inlet, just south of Daytona Beach. He happily remembered his buddy John's reaction to the wings and Grav belt he'd taken him. He was even happier remembering the outcome of his email to GI2. He'd been a set to do to battle on behalf of his fellow service members, when the company surprised him, and promised free Grav belts and wings to all disabled veterans, without a peep of argument. Now that John had gotten his joy for life back, they exchanged emails or phone calls every day.

With the Grav belt, John had predicted just yesterday he might get out of the VA Hospital in less than a week, when before, his physical therapy and convalescence had been expected to last another six months. Adam shook his head, and thought wryly, "If I had those dingy gray walls to look forward to for another six months, I'd just slit my wrists and get it over with."

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. At twenty feet long, his newest design looked decidedly odd on the ground. In fact, he wasn't sure he could even put them on while on the ground. Plus, getting up to speed was going to be a lot of effort and a real pain, but if it worked out like he wanted, he'd be able to just do a leisurely dolphin kick for an hour and end up in Los Angeles. This time, he'd steal a march on that kid Jay!

He knew there was only one place he could get an unbroken section of polyurethane twenty feet long. He'd have to go to the source, the factory where it was made. Unless he could make a special order online, Adam knew he'd be making a trip to Scottsdale, Arizona. He opened up the companies website and picked through the options, not seeing a way to make a special order. Just before giving up, he noticed a locator option for the local sales office. He clicked on that, printed out the driving directions, and headed out the door, carrying his wings and wearing his Grav Belt.

Adam didn't drive or run, anymore. Everywhere he went, he flew. The excitement was new each time. The thrill of the freedom and the awesome views, had changed his perspective on the world entirely. Instead of feeling hemmed in by the need to find a job, Adam felt the tingle of boundless opportunity. Since he didn't need to buy a car to get around, he still had twenty grand in the bank from his last re-enlistment bonus. What with spending that entire enlistment in combat zones, he'd never gotten around to spending much of it. With frugal living, he could stretch that out a long time.

Checking the street grid from above, he matched it to the patterns on the map print out. Everything from up here looked the same as the map, except there weren't convenient street names printed out on the real streets. Never one to miss an opportunity to train, Adam dialed up his gravity for a power dive, and swooped down toward the address of the sales office. He hit nearly seventy miles per hour, leveled out at thirty feet and just held out his wings to brake to a stop. His gravity set at 25% made that shallow, slowing dive, and he hit the sidewalk in front of the stop at a walk.

Several passers by noticed his maneuver, one kid on a skateboard looked on enviously, and grumbled, "Show off!"

Grinning to himself, Adam took off his wings, dialed his gravity up to normal, and pulled open the door to step into the air-conditioned office. A cute young red head sat in reception, and he asked her for the sales manager.

The red head said, "Mr. Lee will see you in a minute, Sir. If you could have a seat."

Mr. Lee turned out to be a Chinese expatriate, five foot two and maybe one hundred ten pounds. In his heavily accented, singsong English, he asked, "Good afternoon, how may I be of assistance? Mr.?"

Adam held out his hand, and answered, "Daniels. Adam Daniels. What I need is a special order from your company."

Mr. Lee asked in reply, "Oh? What kind of special order?"

Adam pulled out a printed out sheet showing his specifications, and read them aloud, "I need a sheet of polyurethane twenty feet long, one eighth inch think and at least four feet wide, preferably five."

Listening carefully, Mr. Lee tugged on his chin while he considered Adam's request. After a moment, he said, thoughtfully, "Very difficult. Very expensive."

At Adam's nod of acceptance, Mr. Lee motioned him to follow back to his office. There, he motioned Adam toward a chair, and perched in front of his monitor, and began pecking at the keyboard and clicking the mouse at a furious pace. A moment later he smiled up at Adam and said, "No problemo! I can have it here in seven days and the cost will be less then I expected, a mere pittance. Three thousand dollars, I'll need half in advance to process a special order."

Adam gulped briefly, blanching at the figure, which was almost a sixth of his total assets. Then, firming his resolve, he pulled out his checkbook and wrote the check. On his way home, he put on his I-Pod headset and listened to Journey's "Change For the Better".

Down the lowest I can go
With no one left to turn
On the edge, I lose control
Before I crash and burn
Can I turn around
Slow it down, oh

Hold on, we've still got living to do
So far gone
See life for someone like you
In your eyes
You showed me reasons to live
Take time
The time it takes to forgive

It's my life, it'll change for the better
I've faced the light
It's worth the fight
See a new day
Start a new way
Get it straight
Make it change for the better

Heart soaring along with the song in wind, he wended his way home.

In the light of false dawn, high in the mountains of Afghanistan, Gunny checked his MILES gear and Blank Firing Adaptor, or BFA for his M16A2. Satisfied with his own gear, he walked down the line of men from his squad and double-checked all of their equipment. Then he spoke to his men, in a gruff, hoarse whisper, that easily carried to them, but not much further.

"Right. Now, this here's the deal. We are the aggressor force, we can use any of the tricks we've worked out, plus, any more you can think of. Our mission, in this training exercise, is to infiltrate/eliminate the base camp of Charlie Company. We've got the Battalion Brass, plus all the Tops from every unit as observers."

He grimaced and spit, "You know I'm not much for dog and pony shows, but I set this one up. We have to show them what we might be up against. So, do me proud, Marines!"

To a muted set of "Oorahs", the marine Force Recon team faded into the cover and concealment of the mountainside, and began making their way, in two man teams, toward the first Op objective.

Corporal Sanders hated Sergeant of the Watch duty. Today he was doubly cursing his fate. It was always scary enough to be put in charge of perimeter security. But when all his men had blank loads and MILES gear for an exercise, and they were still in hostile territory, the potential for disaster on his watch was making his ass pucker. Well, at least it made him glad that his First Sergeant had backed him up, when he requested that all the men have additional magazines, with live rounds at their stations.

He knew Gunny Adams was out there, and his Force Recon team was the best. They would probably have torn his command a new one without any new tricks. Sanders wasn't sure just what the new tricks would be, but if Gunny thought them up, they'd be nasty. He rounded the bunker, which held his eastern most guard post in the twilight of dawn in the mountains. The sky was bright, but no light shown down into the valleys, just blinding reflections off the snow covered peaks.

Just as he joined Lance Corporal Briggs, both sets of their MILES gear started wailing. They looked at each other in confusion. They were dead, as far as the exercise was concerned, but the hadn't heard the report of a shot, nor could they see anything amiss. Still, their "deaths", though administered in utter silence, made enough noise from the MILES gear, that the rest of the guard detail were alerted, and they sent a runner toward the Officer of the Day, or OOD, Captain Smith.

Knowing the situation, Captain Smith immediately called the full company to alert. Unfortunately, Gunny's team had infiltrated his command completely. As the men began to pour out of the Quonset huts, six simulated claymore mines spattered them with paint, and sudden fire from the guard towers, where half of his guards had been stationed, set off the MILES gear of every remaining Marine in his command.

Captain Smith winced at the blaring beep of his MILES gear, and threw down his cover in disgust. He shouted, "Ok Gunny! You got us, now get someone to turn off this infernal noise!"

Gunny stepped out of the shadows near the command bunker with a grin. He saluted Captain Smith then waved over one of the observers, who had the codes to turn off the MILES gear.

When finally, enough of the MILES gear had been silenced to hear himself, Captain Smith asked Gunny, "How'd you infiltrate us so completely? I know my men, they've been in country for almost a year and nobody else has made it within a hundred yards."

Gunny chewed on his wad of tobacco, spewed juice, and simply said, "Captain, I'd like to wait for the debrief with Battalion if you don't mind, Sir. We have one more demonstration, with the heavy weapons company, if you'd care to join the observers, Sir."

Captain Smith chuckled, and raised his hands in surrender, "Ok, Ok. You got me. I'm your prisoner. Now, where do you want me?"

"This way, Sir," Gunny motioned with his free hand, as his other was too busy keeping the M16 pointed in a safe direction. Even firing blanks, an M16 could kill at up to three feet, just by the compressed gases that shot out the muzzle when a blank round was fired. The BFA was meant to break up the gas column, and divert it to the side, but good habits where good habits. Gunny wasn't about to start treating his weapon with any less then the regard for its death dealing capabilities it was due.

Gunny led Captain Smith to a group of officers and senior noncommissioned officers in a small clearing. Captain Smith joined the group of officers, with a sheepish, lopsided grin, and Gunny raised his voice to address the group.

"Gentlemen, and you too, Tom."

He paused to let the laughter die down. His good-natured rivalry with the gunny from the infantry companies scout platoon was well known. He stilled his face to an impartial mask and raised his voice in the Parade Deck voice known to all Marine Corps recruits.

"At the same time as we kicked off our part of the exercise, to chastise Captain Smith' command and disabuse them of the notion of their invincibility, the heavy weapons company moved into their current positions. This served two purposes. From where they are at, they command the high ground, and could make sure our little party didn't have any unannounced guests."

At the nods of agreement coming from the Officers, he knew that they appreciated that bit of precautionary foresight. Gunny spoke into his headset. High on the mountainside to their west, a single thermite flare popped and began drifting down on its parachute.

Gunny motioned to the flare, and asked the assembled brass, "How high up would you say they are, Sirs?"

After a momentary, murmured consultation, the junior officer present, the S2, Lieutenant Brooks said, "Four thousand feet, Gunny."

Pressing his point, Gunny asked, "And how long would you want to climb up there, Sir?"

Surprised, Lieutenant Brooks, considered the question, and then turned to study the terrain for a moment. A gradual rise to the edge of the valley, half a mile away, then a near vertical cliff face a thousand feet high, followed by a smaller series of cliffs, set like giant stairs, two hundred feet each. He shuddered involuntarily and grinned as he answered, "If you are going to make me prove it ... two days, with ropes and rappelling gear."

Gunny smiled benignly, "Not today. Thank you, Sir. The point is, Sir, we sent the heavy weapons company to that position, with all of their weapons, and standard loads of ammo, in two hours! To prove it, we've arranged a little firepower demonstration."

He spoke into his headset once more, but this time instead of a single flare, an entire side of the mountain seemed to spout fire. The normal Table of Equipment for a heavy weapons company for every Marine Corps battalion was the same. It just wasn't often one got to see it all employed at once, at an oblique angle from the receiving end. A battery of eight 120mm mortars, a battery of twelve 90mm mortars, four belt-fed Mark 19s, the 60mm automatic grenade launcher, eight Ma Deuces, the venerable 50 caliber machine gun, and twelve Squad Automatic Weapons, the fully automatic version of the M16, with 100 round drums. A spot on their side of the valley, a mile to the north started spouting explosions. The display of firepower went on for a full minute, as the assembled brass watched. Then it abruptly stopped.

Addressing the grim faces of the brass, Gunny said, "That gentlemen, is what a single light infantry company could do to us, in just one minute! With the Gravity Nullifiers, they have mobility as if Air Mobile; but would have no radar signature, no sound to give them away, and would be limited only by their imaginations."

Captain Smith blanched, thinking what that firepower would have done to his command.

He stammered, "Gunny, what can we do to stop them?"

-- Gunny grinned, his best fierce bulldog-wading-into-a-fight grin, "Well, Sir, we dig in like never before. Until the men think their mothers must have been moles. Then, we get there the soonest with mostest, Sir."

--Rallying, Captain Smith matched his grin, but asked in reply, "Fine, but what about what your team did to my company earlier? How did you do that? And how do we stop it?"

--Gunny smiled broadly, "Ah, well, Sir, as to that. We did a classical vertical envelopment. Using the Gravity Nullifiers and our wings, we sent most of our team in from directly overhead. Your men are not used to worrying about threats above ground level, and to test them, I personally flew directly over the heads of every perimeter guard you had, at less then twenty feet."