Free Backshot by Dan Cragg, David Sherman Page A

you where your recon scared them off to. And that’ll piss me off, because I really have to go potty. You won’t like it when a pissed off Marine who has to go potty shows up in your face.”
    Homeboy didn’t reply for a moment, then said, “Rover, say again target strength.”
    “About two thousand, Homeboy. At least half of them are security or combat. I recommend a brigade to encircle the target.”
    “Rover, are you positive?”
    “Have I ever lied to you, Homeboy?”
    Homeboy wisely didn’t reply to that, instead he said, “Rover, wait one.”
    “Wait one” in radio parlance normally means a short time, anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes. In this instance, it meant an hour, during which Daly and his two men on the ground had to move away from the tree to let an outbound SLA patrol pass by. When Homeboy finally came back he said three battalions were on their way and for the Force Recon patrol to go to ground.
    Kindy gratefully came down from the tree and the squad returned to where it could keep an eye on the SLA headquarters.
    Three hours later they saw patrols running back into the camp, and soldiers and others bustling about breaking camp.
    The three battalions of the 104th Mobile Infantry Division arrived from as many directions before more than a few elements of the SLA headquarters left. General Leigh was one of the many who were caught in the trap. There was a short, fierce fight before the defenders surrendered—the general didn’t want the children to get killed in the fight.
    “Mission accomplished,” Daly said to his squad. “Let’s go take a dump and head for home.”
    “Well done, Marines,” General Fitzter said when the Force Recon squad, bathed, purged, and dressed in clean—and visible—dress reds reported to him in his office. “I don’t know how you did it, but if you ever decide to change services, I guarantee you a job with me.”
    “Thank you, sir,” Daly said politely. “That’s very generous of the general.”
    Lieutenant Colonel Kevelys looked at them with a mix of resentment and awed respect. He looked at the array of ribbons on Daly’s chest, indicating the numerous campaigns and operations he’d participated in, and couldn’t help noticing the first two ribbons represented Marine Corps medals for personal heroism. He unclenched his jaws and said, “I believe the term you Marines use for a job well done is ‘outstanding.’ Now I think I have an idea of why.”
    “Thank you, sir,” Daly said with a nod. “It’s all in a day’s work for Force Recon.”
    Fitzter’s eyebrow twitched, Kevelys’s jaw reclenched.
    “I will write a letter of commendation to your commanding general,” Fitzter said, then added wryly, “But he probably expected you to perform as well as you did.”
    “Thank you, sir. I’m sure he did.”
    “You’re dismissed.”
    “Thank you, sir,” Daly said smartly. “Good hunting on the rest of your campaign, sir.” He and his men about-faced and marched from the general’s office. Kevelys opened his mouth to admonish them for not saluting, but Fitzter held up a hand to stop him. When the door closed behind the Marines he said, “The sea services don’t salute indoors.”
    “Right,” Kevelys snarled. “Arrogant bastards—I mean what he said about ‘all in a day’s work.’ ”
    Fitzter nodded. “I agree. But when you’re as good as they are, you can get away with a bit of arrogance.”

CHAPTER SIX
    Unified World of Atlas
    Atlas was a flourishing world.
    When the first explorers arrived they were very pleasantly surprised to find a planet that seemed created for colonization, teeming with fauna and flora, none of which proved inimical to mankind. The life-forms native to Atlas sustained the original colonists for years, and a distinctive cuisine developed around native foodstuffs.
    The seas on Atlas abounded with marine life, much of which was highly delectable to the human palate, and crops of all kinds flourished