He called for the medics, one hand on the soldier’s back to make sure he didn’t topple over, and glanced around, assessing the damage now that his sight was almost back to normal. It wasn’t as bad as it had looked at first glance. The jeeps were still standing, as were the heavy weapons and ammo crates. The tents had toppled and equipment was strewn about, but the actual destruction looked to be minimal. He still wasn’t hearing right, but

his eyesight was mostly back to par and he felt steadier on his feet. Barking orders came naturally; he handed over the still-retching private into the medics’ care and started to sort out the confusion around him. By his estimate, he could move his troops within the hour; faster, if necessary.

“Harris!” he bellowed, signaling the burly sergeant who’d been serving under him for a few years. Too many rookies around; he needed someone he knew was competent. “Sit rep in ten!”

Harris called back an affirmative and got going. He’d have a preliminary status report ready by the time Brennan had called in this SNAFU{2}. Now where the hell in this mess had the radio ended up?

Brennan scanned his surroundings again, pausing for a moment to squint at the column of dark smoke that had risen in the western sky over the crash site like an exclamation mark. Huh. Missiles usually didn’t burn up. UXOs didn’t employ brake mechanisms. Missiles in general didn’t usually have brake mechanisms. They were supposed to hit their targets at high velocity to add more oomph to their boom. So a missile, especially a defective one, slowing down before impact didn’t make sense. It might spin out of control, possibly flip around, especially when the targeting system was screwed up, but brake? No way. Manned aircrafts, on the other hand…

that was a whole different ballgame. Could’ve been one of those top-secret jets coming down, only it had been too big for a plane. A shuttle, maybe?

They wouldn’t know for sure until they’d gotten to the crash site and done some recon, but first Brennan wanted to know for sure the rest of the world was still standing. The combat-net radio had been dug out of one of the collapsed tents and set up well away from the heavier pieces of equipment. Since the earth tremor had been caused by a shockwave and not an earthquake, Brennan thought this was probably unnecessary, but he wasn’t about to reprimand his men for erring on the side of caution.

Especially not given the circumstances. He nodded at Sergeant Mosely, who’d been bent over the radio but looked up when Brennan’s shadow fell over him.