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They were calling him "captain," like
in the days when Averell Torrent was National Security Adviser and sent them out on missions to intercept or destroy Progressive Restoration weapons. For some reason this touched Cole very deeply and he got tears in his eyes.
"Call him General Cole and he might answer," said Load.
And just like that, Cole snapped out of it. Not completely, but he was rational again. Able to respond.
"I'm here," said Cole. "Good plan. I'll tell you what I see. If I see anything real. Follow Mingo."
They made their way to the north and east of the university, toward the Ikang Road. The drones showed Cole that the old man had been right, there were six trucks, already at the outskirts of the city, heading along the main road that passed between the airport and the university. They didn't look like troop trucks—the Pred operators would have interpreted them as a convoy of panel trucks, probably bringing in food, if the old man hadn't reported that there were uniformed soldiers inside.
"They know where we are," said Cole. "Not us specifically, but our base at the university. Still in the trucks. Reaching where the Ikang Road turns into the I.B.B. They'll come south down the road along the west side of the university. No attempt to hide."
"Marines get here in five minutes, right?" said Drew.
Cole checked the display showing him the ETA of the choppers and Marines from the fleet. "More like eight," he said.
"Trucks'll be empty by then," said Drew.
They took up positions that covered the road, but they knew if the enemy weren't idiots they'd get out of the trucks long before this point and come in from a dozen different directions. At the same time, they knew the clock would be ticking. The old man's heroic ride had bought Cole's men about ten minutes of prep time, a ten-minute head start for the Marine choppers.
Meanwhile, the Predators circling overhead were armed.
Cole clicked himself over to talk to the drone's sensor operator. "I need Hellfires, starting with the lead truck."
"I've got it," said the operator, and three seconds later Cole's display showed the lead truck blowing up. The second truck bumped into it, but everybody poured out of all the trucks except the first one so only a few men were caught in the explosions as Hellfire missiles took out all the other trucks. "Thanks," said Cole, and switched back to his men.
"Heard some explosions," said Mingo. "Preds?"
"Hellfire. Reduction of enemy force by at least one-sixth," said Cole. "And they're on foot now. The computer counts 105 of them. Must have had about twenty-five per truck, plus drivers."
"Can you see what they're carrying?"
"No," said Cole. "The UAS operators can, but I can't focus that well." He switched back to the DGS in Langley. "Can you guys see how the targets are armed?"
The sensor operator's voice came into his ears. "Looks like automatics but we don't see anything with exploding shells."
They want the killing to be up close and personal, thought Cole.
The sensor operator started enumerating weapons. "Ten of them have something I've never seen before, bulky back end, narrow front. Flamethrower? Why make one with an inflexible nozzle?" A view of a man carrying one popped up on his display.
Cole knew what it was. "They're EMP devices."
"We need to get those on the recognition drills," said the sensor operator.
"Haven't captured any yet. You're the first to spot them from the air."
"Then how did you know what it was?"
"Because you didn't recognize it," said Cole, "and whoever set up the trap for us in Bangui sent these guys after us."
"Stands to reason."
Cole's Noodle was still open to his men, so they heard all this.
"Sounds to me," said Babe, "that when Cole is sick, he thinks like us."
"You got it," said Cole. He checked his vitals display. "I'm at 105 degrees."
