The Forever War #7.1
„Okay, start.“ Soft click: „A team, follow me.“ She slid out from behind the rock and turned on the faint pink beacon beneath her power pack. I turned on mine and moved out to run alongside of her, and the rest of the team fanned out in a trailing wedge. Nobody fired while A team laid down a cover for us. All I could hear was Potter‘s breathing and the soft crunch-crunch of my boots. Couldn‘t see much of anything, SO I tongued the image converter up to a log two intensification. That made the image kind of blurry but adequately bright. Looked like the bunker had B team pretty well pinned down; they were getting quite a roasting. All of their return fire was laser. They must have lost their grenadier. „Potter, this is Mandella. Shouldn't we take some of the heat off B team?“ „Soon as I can find us good enough cover. Is that all right with you? Private?“ She‘d been promoted to corporal for the duration of the exercise. We angled to the right and lay down behind a slab of rock. Most of the others found cover nearby, but a few had to hug the ground. „Freeman, this is Potter.“ „Potter, this is Smithy. Freeman‘s out; Samuels is out. We only have five men left. Give us some cover so we can get-„ „Roger, Smithy.“ Click. „Open up, A team. The B‘s are really hurt in‘.“ I peeked out over the edge of the rock. My rangefinder said that the bunker was about three hundred fifty meters away, still pretty far. I aimed a smidge on high and popped three, then down a couple of degrees, three more. The first ones overshot by about twenty meters; then the second salvo flared up directly in front of the bunker. I tried to hold on that angle and popped fifteen, the rest of the magazine, in the same direction. I should have ducked down behind the rock to reload, but I wanted to see where the fifteen would land, so I kept my eyes on the bunker while I reached back to unclip another magazine- When the laser hit my image converter, there was a red glare so intense it seemed to go right through my eyes and bounce off the back of my skull. It must have been only a few milliseconds before the converter overloaded and went blind, but the bright green afterimage hurt my eyes for several minutes. Since I was officially „dead,“ my radio automatically cut off, and I had to remain where I was until the mock battle was over. With no sensory input besides the feel of my own skin (and it ached where the image converter had shone on it) and the ringing in my ears, it seemed like an awfully long time. Finally, a helmet clanked against mine.
