mreilly.icestation-第22章

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　sightings。〃　
　Cameron　smiled。　〃Very　provocative。　Do　you　do　house　calls？〃　
　〃You　never　know　your　luck　in　the　big　city。〃　
　〃You　know；〃　Cameron　said；　〃in　some　states；　that　could　qualify　as　sexual　harassment。〃　
　〃Honey；　being　married　to　you　is　sexual　harassment；〃　Alison　said。　
　Cameron　laughed。　〃I'll　call　you　when　I'm　done；〃　he　said　before　hanging　up。　
　
　An　hour　later；　Cameron's　Toyota　pulled　into　the　dusty　parking　lot　of　the　SETI　Institute。　There　were　three　other　cars　parked　in　the　lot。　
　A　squat　two…story　office　building　stood　adjacent　to　the　parking　lot；　nestled　in　the　shadow　of　a　three…hundred…foot…tall　radio　telescope。　Cameron　counted　twenty…seven　other　identical　satellite　dishes　stretching　away　from　him　into　the　desert。　
　Inside；　he　was　met　by　a　geeky　little　man　wearing　a　white　lab　coat　and　a　plastic　pocket　protector。　He　said　his　name　was　Emmett　Somerville　and　that　it　was　he　who　had　picked　up　the　signal。　
　Somerville　led　Cameron　down　some　stairs　to　a　wide　underground　room。　Cameron　followed　him　silently　as　they　negotiated　their　way　through　a　maze　of　electronic　radio　equipment。　Two　massive　Cray　XMP　superputers　took　up　an　entire　wall　of　the　enormous　subterranean　room。　
　Somerville　spoke　as　he　walked。　〃I　picked　it　up　at　around　two…thirty　this　morning。　It　was　in　English；　so　I　knew　it　couldn't　be　alien。〃　
　〃Good　thinking；〃　Cameron　said；　deadpan。　
　〃But　the　accent　was　definitely　American；　and　considering　the　content；　I　called　the　Pentagon　right　away。〃　He　turned　to　look　at　Cameron　as　he　walked。　〃We　have　a　direct　number。〃　
　He　said　it　with　nerdy　pride：　The　government　thinks　we're　so　important　that　they　gave　us　a　direct　line。　Cameron　figured　that　the　number　Somerville　had　was　probably　the　number　for　the　Pentagon's　PR　desk；　a　number　that　SETI　could　have　found　by　looking　up　the　Department　of　Defense　in　the　phone　book。　Cameron　had　it　on　his　speed…dial。　
　〃Anyway；〃　Somerville　said；　〃when　they　said　that　it　wasn't　one　of　their　transmissions；　I　figured　it　was　OK　to　give　you　guys　at　the　paper　a　call。〃　
　〃We　appreciate　it；〃　Cameron　said。　
　The　two　men　arrived　at　a　corner　console。　It　consisted　of　two　screens　mounted　above　a　keyboard。　Next　to　the　screens　was　a　broadcast…quality　reel…to…reel　recording　machine。　
　〃Wanna　hear　it？〃　Somerville　asked；　his　finger　poised　above　the　PLAY　button　on　the　reel…to…reel　machine。　
　〃Shoot。〃　
　Emmett　Somerville　hit　the　switch。　The　reels　began　to　rotate。　
　At　first　Cameron　heard　nothing；　then　static。　He　looked　expectantly　at　Emmett　the　Geek。　
　〃It's　ing；〃　Somerville　said。　
　There　was　a　wash　of　some　more　static　and　then；　suddenly；　voices。　
　〃…copy；　one…three…four…six…two…five…　〃　
　〃…contact　lost　due　to　ionospheric　disturbance…〃　
　〃forward　team…〃　
　〃…Scarecrow…　〃　
　〃…minus　sixty…six　point　five…　〃　
　〃…solar　flare　disrupting　radio…〃　
　〃…one…fifteen；　twenty　minutes；　twelve　seconds　east…〃　
　〃…how；〃　static；　〃get　there　so…〃　
　〃…secondary　team　en　route…〃　
　Pete　Cameron　slowly　shut　his　eyes。　It　was　another　bum　steer。　Just　more　indecipherable　military　gobbledygook。　
　The　transmission　ended　and　he　turned　and　saw　that　Somerville　was　watching　him　eagerly。　Clearly；　the　SETI　technician　wanted　something　to　e　of　his　discovery。　He　was　a　nobody。　Worse；　a　nobody　out　in　the　middle　of　nowhere。　A　guy　who　probably　just　wanted　to　see　his　name　in　the　Washington　Post　in　anything　other　than　an　obituary。　Cameron　felt　sorry　for　him。　He　sighed。　
　〃Could　you　play　it　again　for　me；〃　he　said；　reluctantly　pulling　out　his　notepad。　
　Somerville　practically　leaped　for　the　REWIND　button。　
　The　tape　played　again　and　Cameron　dutifully　took　notes。　
　
　
　
　It　was　ironic；　Schofield　thought；　that　Petard；　the　last　French　mando；　should　be　killed　by　one　of　his　own　weapons。　Especially　when　it　was　a　weapon　that　France　had　obtained　from　the　United　States　by　virtue　of　their　alliance　under　NATO。　
　The　M18A1　mine　is　better　known　throughout　the　world　as　the　〃Claymore。〃　It　is　made　up　of　a　concave　porcelain　plate　that　contains　hundreds　of　ball　bearings　embedded　in　a　six…hundred…gram　wad　of　C…4　plastic　explosive。　In　effect；　a　Claymore　is　a　directable　fragmentation　grenade…its　lethality　is　dependent　not　on　the　force　of　its　relatively　small　initial　blast；　but　rather　on　the　devastating　fan…shaped　spray　of　shrapnel　that　it　emits。　If　one　sits　behind　a　Claymore；　one　will　not　be　harmed　by　its　shrapnel　blast。　If　one　is　caught　in　front　of　it；　one　will　be　shredded　to　pieces。　
　The　most　well…known　characteristic　of　the　Claymore；　however；　is　the　simple　instruction　label　that　one　finds　embossed　on　the　forward　face　of　the　mine。　It　reads：　THIS　SIDE　TOWARD　ENEMY。　
　Or；　in　French；　BRAQUEZ　CE　C？Té　SUR　L'ENEMMI。　
　If　you　ever　found　yourself　looking　at　those　words；　you　knew　you　were　looking　at　the　wrong　end　of　a　Claymore。　
　The　two　Claymores　in　the　drilling　room　had　been　central　to　the　French　mandos'　last…ditch　plan　to　beat　the　Marines。　After　it　was　all　over；　Schofield　pieced　together　that　plan：　
　They　had　sent　someone　down　to　the　drilling　room；　ahead　of　the　others。　Once　there；　that　person　had　set　up　the　two　Claymores　so　that　they　faced　the　door。　The　Claymores　would　then　be　connected　to　a　trip　wire。　
　Then；　the　other　French　mandos　would　pretend　to　retreat　to　the　drilling　room；　deliberately　allowing　the　Marines　to　follow　them。　
　Of　course；　the　Marines　would　know　that　the　drilling　room　was　a　dead　end；　so　they　would　think　that　the　French；　in　their　desperate　attempt　to　flee；　had　run　themselves　into　a　corner；　into　a　trap。　
　Surrender　would　be　inevitable。　
　But　as　the　Marines　entered　the　drilling　room　to　secure　the　French　troops；　they　would　break　the　trip　wire　and　set　off　the　two　Claymores。　The　Marines　would　be　cut　to　ribbons。　
　It　was　an　audacious　plan。　A　plan　that　would　have　changed　the　course　of　the　battle。　
　And　it　was　cunning；　too。　It　turned　a　full…scale　retreat…　hell；　a　total　surrender…into　a　decisive　counterattack。　
　But　what　Petard　and　the　French　had　not　accounted　for　was　that　one　of　the　American　soldiers　might　e　upon　their　trap　while　they　were　setting　it。　
　Schofield　was　proud　of　Rebound。　Proud　of　how　the　young　Marine　had　handled　the　situation。　
　Rather　than　blow　the　lid　on　the　French　plan　and　continue　with　unpredictable　hand…to…hand　fighting；　Rebound　had　coolly　allowed　the　French　to　believe　that　their　plan　was　still　afoot。　
　But　he　had　changed　one　thing。　
　He　had　turned　the　Claymores　around。　
　That　was　what　Petard　had　seen　when　Rebound　had　spoken　to　him　in　the　drilling　room。　He　had　seen　those　chilling　words。　
　THIS　SIDE　TOWARD　ENEMY。　
　Pointing　at　him。　
　Rebound　had　got　the　better　of　him。　And　when　Rebound　stepped　forward　across　the　trip　wire；　it　was　to　be　the　last　thing　that　Petard　ever　saw。　The　battle；　at　last；　was　over。　
　
　An　hour　later；　the　station's　lights　were　back　on　and　all　of　the　bodies；　French　and　American；　had　been　found　and　accounted　for。　At　least；　those　bodies　that　could　be　found。　
　The　French　had　lost　four　men　to　the　killer　whales；　the　Americans；　one。　Eight　other　French　mandos　and　two　more　U。S。　Marines…Hollywood　and　Ratman…had　been　found　in　various　locations　around　the　ice　station。　They　had　all　been　confirmed　dead。　
　The　Americans　also　had　two　wounded；　both　quite　seriously。　Mother；　who　had　lost　one　of　her　legs　to　the　killer　whale；　and；　rather　surprisingly；　Augustine　〃Samurai〃　Lau；　the　very　first　Marine　to　have　been　gunned　down　by　the　French。　
　Mother　was　faring　better　than　Samurai。　Since　her　wound　was　a　localized　one…confined　to　the　lower　extremity　of　her　left　leg…she　was　still　conscious。　In　fact；　she　still　had　full　movement　in　all　of　her　other　limbs。　The　flow　of　blood　from　the　wound　had　been　stopped；　and　the　methadone　took　care　of　what　pain　there　was。　The　only　enemy　that　remained　was　shock。　Thus　it　was　decided　that　Mother　would　remain　in　her　storeroom　on　E…deck；　under　constant　supervision。　To　move　her　might　trigger　a　fit。　
　Samurai；　on　the　other　hand；　was　in　a　much　worse　state。　He　was　in　a　self…induced　a；　his　stomach　having　been　ripped　to　shreds　by　Latissier's　barrage　of　gunfire　at　the　very　beginning　of　the　battle。　
　The　young　Marine's　body　had　responded　to　the　sudden　trauma　in　the　only　way　it　knew　how…it　had　switched　itself　off。　At　the　time　they　found　him　alive；　Schofield　had　marveled　at　the　ability　of　the　human　body　to　take　care　of　itself　in　the　face　of　such　extreme　crisis。　No　amount　of　methadone　or　morphine　could　have　quelled　the　pain　of　that　many　gunshot　wounds。　So　Samurai's　body　had　done　the　next…best　thing：　it　had　simply　turned　off　its　sensory　apparatus　and　was　now　awaiting　external　help。　
　The　problem　was　whether　or　not　Schofield　could　provide　that　external　help。　
　Anything　greater　than　basic　medical　knowledge　is　rare　in　a　frontline　unit。　The　closest　thing　such　units　have　to　a　doctor　is　the　team　medic；　who　is　usually　a　low…level　Corporal。　Legs　Lane　had　been　Schofield's　medic；　and　he　was　now　deader　than　dead。　
　Schofield　walked　quickly　around　the　A…deck　catwalk。　He'd　just　e　up　from　E…deck；　where　he　had　checked　on　Mother；　and　was　now　wearing　a　new　pair　of　silver　antiflash　glasses。　Mother　had　given　them　to　him。　She'd　said　that　in　her　state；　she　wouldn't　be　needing　them　anymore。　
　Schofield　poked　his　head　around　the　dining　room　door。　〃What　do　you　think；　Rebound？〃　he　said。　
　Inside　the　dining　room；　Rebound　was　working　feverishly　over　Samurai's　inanimate　body。　The　body　lay　flat　on　its　back　on　a　table　in　the　center　of　the　room。　Blood　dripped　off　the　edges　of　the　table；　forming　a　red　puddle　on　the　cold　porcelain　floor。　
　Rebound　looked　up　from　what　he　was　doing。　He　shook　his　head　in　exasperation。　
　〃I　can't　keep　up　with　the　blood　loss；〃　he　said　to　Schofield。　〃There's　just　too　much　internal　damage。　His　whole　gut's　been　blown　apart。〃　
　Rebound　wiped　his　forehead。　A　slick　of　blood　appeared　above　his　eyes。　He　looked　hard　at　Schofield。　'This　is　way　out　of　my　league；　sir。　He　needs　someone　who　knows　what　he's　doing。　He　needs　a　doctor。〃　
　Schofield　stared　at　Samurai's　prone　body　for　a　few　seconds。　
　〃Just　do　what　you　can；〃　he　said；　and　then　he　left　the　room。　
　
　〃OK；　people；　listen　up；〃　Schofield　said。　〃We　don't　have　much　time；　so　I'm　going　to　keep　this　short。〃　
　The　six　remaining　able…bodied　Marines　were　gathered　around　the　pool　on　E…deck。　They　all　stood　in　a　wide　circle。　Schofield　stood　in　the　middle。　
　Schofield's　voice　echoed　up　through　the　shaft　of　the　empty　station：　〃This　station　is　obviously　a　lot　hotter　than　we　originally　thought。　I'm　thinking　that　if　the　French　were　willing　to　take　a　chance　to　grab　it；　others　will；　too。　And　whoever　those　others　might　be；　by　now　they've　had　some　time　to　get　their　shit　together　and　prepare　for　a　full…scale　attack。　Have　no　doubt；　people；　if　anyone　else　decides　to　hit　this　station　they　will　almost　certainly　be　better　prepared　and　more　heavily　armed　than　those　French　pricks　we　just　exterminated。　Opinions？〃　
　〃Concur；〃　Buck　Riley　said。　
　〃Same；〃　Snake　said。　Book　Riley　and　Snake　Kaplan　were　the　two　most　senior　enlisted　men　in　the　unit。　It　meant　something　that　they　both　agreed　with　Schofield's　assessment　of　the　situation。　
　Schofield　said；　〃All　right；　then。　What　I　want　to　happen　now　is　this。　Montana。。。〃　
　〃Yes；　sir。〃　
　〃I　want　you　to　go　topside　and　position　our　two　hovercrafts　so　that　their　r