G. Harry Stine - Warbots 01 by Warbots

Author:Warbots
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-06-08T16:30:11+00:00

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Captain Curt Carson found himself in a position he didn’t like. He was the one who would have to determine who would live and who might very well die in this hellhole in the middle of nowhere.

He knew that, left to their own resources, the hostages could become a mob. No military man has ever forgotten the television pictures of the Saigon evacuation. Curt knew he’d have to take charge and that he’d be supported by his disciplined Companions. But making a life-and-death decision involving civilians was a task he didn’t relish.

He hadn’t wanted to go on this mission at all and had argued against it. He could be stashed safely in the command post on Kuh-e-Taftan with the other company commanders, letting his warbots take the fire. But, no, he’d been noble.

Well, there wasn’t much he could do about that now. He was on the roof and he might not get off. But thirty people would. Which ones?

Curt made up his mind right then that three categories would have priority: injured, women, and civilians, in that order.

He motioned Lieutenant Alexis Morgan over to the shade of the aerodyne. “How many wounded are left on the roof?”

“Counting you?”

“No, not counting me!”

“We’ve got most of them off already except those with minor bruises. Most of the hostages have injuries of one sort of another, but they’re ambulatory.”

“How many hostages left on the roof?” Curt repeated.

“Thirty-four.”

That really cut it! Thirty-four people who, by rights, deserved to be given priority for the final evac, but only thirty slots available. That would leave four hostages and four Companions on the roof.

Curt cursed and shook his head. “Lieutenant, the next airlift from here is going to be the last one for eight hours or more.” He tried to make it sound better than he believed it was, but he tried not to lie. “The ‘dynes can take out only thirty more people because of Jehorkhim pressure at the aerodrome. And we’ve got thirty-four hostages who must be evacked. How do we select them? Got any suggestions?”

She looked him squarely in the eye and replied, “No, sir, I don’t. I don’t think I’m capable of making that decision.”

By this time, the conversation between the two officers had been overheard by Colonel Willa Lovell, Dr. Robert Armstrong, and several of the remaining hostages.

Colonel Lovell broke in to ask, “How long will we have to hold out here before we can expect another rescue effort?”

“Eight hours. A day. I don’t know right now. I haven’t been told,” Curt admitted. He knew it would be contrary to doctrine to give them an expected arrival time for any future mission; if they were captured by the Jehorkhims—and this was a ninety-nine percent probability—they wouldn’t have any information that could compromise the surprise element of a follow-on mission. But Curt knew that the second rescue mission to Zahedan couldn’t be mounted before the next day at the very earliest. Which meant at least thirty hours on the roof—if they could hold out that long.

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