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Final impactThey might well be rowing toward a deserted island, but they proceeded as though they were infiltrating Hirohito’s Imperial Palace. Nobody spoke. There was nothing to say at this point. They’d rehearsed this scenario dozens of times back at the Littoral Warfare Training Camp in New Guinea. The island bobbed very gently up and down in their night vision goggles as they drew closer. Denny held a three-dimensional model of the atoll in his head. He’d known this was a special case as soon as he’d been authorized to attend one week of pre-mission prep in the Zone. Traffic between the “old” Marine Corps and its twenty-first offspring in the San Fernando Valley was surprisingly rare. It was strange, too, until you looked into the politics of it. Jones’s people had some great toys in the Zone. Better even than the AT stuff his Force Recon company had been issued at the start of the year. And their stuff was way better than the new gear the rest of the corps was packing nowadays. You’d think everyone would be able to just get along, rather than wasting time and energy that could be more profitably spent killing Japs, but no ...» |
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