I don't know if you can, Andy. Even if you turned the elevator off, the AEMs could still climb the shaft.

I was afraid of that, sir.

Yes, other than welding the d.a.m.ned doors shut, I don't know how else to stop them, so you might as well let our Marines fight it out with them.

Weld the doors? I could do that sir. I'll start with the floor they're on.

Andy! Absolutely not. We will not weld the doors, do you understand me?

Great f.u.c.king idea, sir! Weld the doors. Got it.

Andy! Andy?

Sorry, sir, having trouble hearing you. Just in case you can hear this, I'm gonna go on over to the main elevator and weld the doors shut so n.o.body can go up or down them. Then I might look and see if there are some repairs to do while I'm there.

That's it, Andy! A repair job.

Sir?

Routine maintenance of the repulsor-field generator and the upgrade and regularly scheduled maintenance on the braking system we've been putting off. Do that.

Uh, you serious, sir?

Yes. In fact, that's an order, EM1. Then Joe had it. He had the plan that would stop the Marines from getting up the tower, period. He wasn't sure he had time to explain to the EM1 what he had in mind. Then Joe had it. He had the plan that would stop the Marines from getting up the tower, period. He wasn't sure he had time to explain to the EM1 what he had in mind.

Okay, sir, Andy replied. Andy replied.

The safety regs for upgrading any elevator repulsor systems on the ship required that the elevator shaft be sealed from the inside physically so that n.o.body could be below the system in case the repulsor-control system went nuts and started slamming the elevator car randomly up and down the shaft. There was a cubbyhole for the repair team to hide inside the shaft and out of the way of a stray elevator car if such an emergency occurred. The team had to physically cover the entire shaft afterward and remove the interlocks by hand. Joe didn't envy the task that he was giving the EM1. The best part about it, though, was that once the repairs started, n.o.body could enter from the outside for any reason. Even the simulated explosives couldn't override crew-safety protocols. The logged repair start would shut down the elevator until the CHENG signed off on the elevator's operational safety.

Andy, as soon as you start the diagnostic of the elevator, the shaft will lock down.

Aha! I get it, Joe. I'd better run, sir. These repairs just keep piling up. It's gonna be tight, sir. So be prepared to approve the repair protocol rather quickly, Andy replied, and Joe could feel the urgency in his mindvoice. Andy must've realized the red-team AEMs were getting close to the main elevator. Andy replied, and Joe could feel the urgency in his mindvoice. Andy must've realized the red-team AEMs were getting close to the main elevator. You're a clever son of a b.i.t.c.h, if you don't mind my sayin' it, sir. You're a clever son of a b.i.t.c.h, if you don't mind my sayin' it, sir.

As soon as you get inside that shaft, you let me know, and I'll dog it down for the system upgrade and maintenance. If this s.h.i.t works, I'm crawling in the first door you open and promise to help you do the unlock sequence myself.

ETA two minutes, sir.

Go!

Two teams of the Blair Blair's boarding party converged on the main elevator shaft from opposite directions. Major Frances Jones pinged the corridor with her suit's sensor suite and mapped out the area. Her suit showed only her team and the other one approaching them from head-on. There was no resistance. This was going to be far easier than she had thought. Oh, there had been a team of firemen and a few MPs armed with handguns here and there, but there had been nothing along the lines that a team of AEMs couldn't handle. Too easy. All too easy. Too easy. All too easy.

"Ma'am, we're here. Want me to check it out?" her NCO asked.

"Nah, I got it, Jack." Frances bounced in front of the main elevator with her HVAR at the ready. The metal blue-gray bulkheads and the recessed lighting panels as well as the oversized pa.s.sageway were exactly like the one on the Blair Blair and other supercarriers she had been on. It always made her feel a little weird to be attacking one of her own ships. and other supercarriers she had been on. It always made her feel a little weird to be attacking one of her own ships.

You could d.a.m.n near get a hovertank in the supercarrier tower elevators. The double-wide doors had to be five meters across when they were fully open. Frances had her AIC hack the electronic lock for the elevator, but nothing happened. Then she noticed a yellow and black striped warning sign taped to the door where it joined. The sign read: Notice: Main Elevator System is down for regularly scheduled upgrades and maintenance and is temporarily out of order pending recertification of the system's safety by the Chief Engineer. No entrance to the elevator shaft is to be approved under any circ.u.mstances without prior approval from the Chief Engineer. Thank you.

"What the f.u.c.k?" the major said. "Jack, get your a.s.s over here!"

Chapter 7.

July 1, 2394 AD Mars...o...b..t, Sol System Friday, 10:40 AM, Earth Eastern Standard Time "So then Staff Sergeant Suez says to First Sergeant McCandless that he is standing on the target coordinate spot, right?" Private First Cla.s.s Rondi Howser held up her hands and shrugged her shoulders at the others around her in the shower. The movement of her arms exaggerated her brilliant red, black, and blue cobra high-resolution laser-printed tattoo. It curled around her left leg three times from the knee, up between her legs from behind, across her rippled abdominal muscles, and around both b.r.e.a.s.t.s with its open mouth and fangs showing on the left side of her midsection. The red and blue were fluorescent and glowed brilliantly in the low lighting of the showers. "Then the first sergeant tells the colonel that we had secured the spot."

"Yeah, we were there. We heard it, Private," Army Specialist Karla Hammermill responded, almost annoyed by the PFC's story. But the two of them had been running partners for more than a year, since they had both been deployed to the Madira Madira, and the army specialist had gotten used to the marine's tall tales.

"Sure, you may have heard it on the QM wireless, but you didn't see it," Corporal Sandy Cross, who was in McCandless's team, added. "I was there. G.o.dd.a.m.ned FUBAR if we ever get attacked like that in real life."

"The next thing you know," Howser continued, "we-well, s.h.i.t, we're all standing on the hill looking around at all these empty e-suits and all of a sudden just five of us plus the two sergeants were surrounded by like two hundred f.u.c.king marines from the Blair Blair. Snap! Just like that we were outnumbered and surrounded."

"Don't undersell it, Howser. We were waaay-the-f.u.c.k outnumbered," Cross added.

"Right. We were waaay f.u.c.king outnumbered. There was no way in h.e.l.l that we were gonna hold that hill with those kinds of odds against us barring some kinda f.u.c.king miracle."

"So?" One of the Army pukes shrugged her shoulders at her.

"So? Don't you see? What the staff sergeant did next is what was so brilliant. He self-destructed his suit! Now if that ain't a big f.u.c.kin' 'oorah,' I don't know what is. The simulation refs said the blast took out everything in a two hundred meter diameter." Rondi stepped away from her showerhead, and it turned itself off. The dryer blasted her for about five seconds, and then she began rummaging through her bag for her other personal hygiene sundries.

"We thought that was an accident," Karla said in disbelief. "I was told that there was a suit malfunction caused by damage from the fight."

"Nope, you can read the sim logs. He blew it himself." Rondi pulled her female-specific compression undergarment into place and stood tall in front of a sink and mirror as she pulled and squirmed into her Marine-issue compression short-sleeve top. "It was all Staff Sergeant Suez."

"G.o.dd.a.m.ned crazy f.u.c.king jarheads think it was cool that their NCO sacrificed them all to take a f.u.c.king hill. Glad he ain't my NCO," another Army puke added.

"Hey, f.u.c.k you! The sarge followed orders and took the hill," Rondi snapped back while she adjusted her top.

"Hey, stow that s.h.i.t!" another Army woman Rondi didn't know shouted from farther down the shower stalls.

"Yes, Sarge!"

"No s.h.i.t," Karla said in a calmer tone to cool the discussion back down. She stepped through the dryer and turned to her running partner. "Don't pay them no mind. They're just mad that there was n.o.body left to kill after you Robots blew your top."

"Hey, that would have been funny had it been First Sergeant McCandless that had blown her suit. Ha, ha, blown her top, get it?" Corporal Cross laughed. n.o.body else thought it was funny.

"d.a.m.n." Rondi just shook her head and ignored the corporal. "Suez's suit blowing took out all of us Robots except for Colonel Roberts. That's when he, the Warlords, and the rest of you Army pukes swarmed in and held the hill. h.e.l.l, at least we had front-row seats for it." She was a good-looking corpse, though. The fireproof fabric conformed to her Marine-hardened midsection and pushed up her b.r.e.a.s.t.s into a supported position. The compression shirt had been designed to fit skintight as a lightly armored fireproof paper-thin layer. And it did. The shirt not only wicked away sweat and moisture, conformed to most environment color schemes, would repel low-order shrapnel, resist fire, and compress the muscles, improving the wearer's performance, but it did it in a way that made the person wearing it look d.a.m.ned good. The new universal combat uniforms (UCUs) looked great on recruiting posters. Rondi smiled at herself in the mirror approvingly and tapped the membrane panel under the neckline to display bulkhead blue-gray, which was the standard uniform color for onboard a ship. She slapped the 3rd AEM Recon patch onto her left shoulder. The patch and shirt fabrics meshed together and hardened into a seamless decoration. She then slapped her name tag atop her right breast, with similar results, and then donned her digicam pants. The pants tracked the color scheme of the top and changed to the same blue-gray base colors. Marines always wore base color camo that matched their environment. The Navy always wore a darker blue camo base, and their tops were different colors, depending on their job. There was never any chance of mistaking a marine for a Navy sailor-that is, unless a marine was trying to be camouflaged as one. Rondi adjusted her short-cropped blond hair and then tucked her cover in her pocket.

"And here I thought you poor marines had simply managed to get all yourselves killed and us 'Army pukes' had to come charging in and save your a.s.ses." Karla smiled at her friend. She adjusted her UCU for Army digicam with the standard Army green base colors. Her green base color top was just as form-fitting, protective, and flattering. "Hoowah!"

"First Sergeant McCandless, did you give Staff Sergeant Suez the authority to self-destruct and take out my platoon of Robots?" Colonel Ramy Roberts, the commander of the 3rd Armored E-suit Marines Forward Recon Unit, looked solemnly at his longtime friend and staff noncommissioned officer (SNCO). He had fought with Tamara all the way back before the Martian Exodus. The two of them were friends and had no problem completely entrusting their lives to each other in the direst of situations. In fact, there had been any number of times when the two of them played rock-paper-scissors to see which one of them got the honor of staring the lion in the teeth first.

"No, Colonel. I had no idea." Tamara stood at attention and stared blankly ahead. "On the staff sergeant's behalf, sir, I must say that he did take out a s.h.i.tload of enemy combatants, sir."

"Taking that into consideration, First Sergeant, is the only reason I haven't busted his b.a.l.l.s further down. However, he did take out my entire platoon!" Colonel Roberts turned his attention from Tamara to Tommy. "Well, Staff Sergeant Suez? Just what in the flying f.u.c.k makes you think you have the authority to self-destruct not just yourself but an entire platoon of marines? I mean, there I was all by myself with nothing but a bunch of d.a.m.ned Army pukes to help me retake and hold our objective. Do you realize how much money Uncle Sam has invested in a platoon of AEMs? Well?"

"Sir, I, uh, was pretty sure we were dead anyway, and our objective was to take that hill, sir," Tommy replied nervously.

"Take it! Take it!" Roberts shouted. "Take it, h.e.l.l. You took it all right! You took it and blew it to f.u.c.k and gone. Had it been the real world and not a sim, you would have blown that hill halfway to the Oort Cloud. What if there was something special about that hill that we needed? A decision like that is above your pay grade, soldier. h.e.l.l, it's above my pay grade!"

"Had no intel on the hill, sir. Just that we were supposed to take it. So, rather than die to railgun rounds, I decided to go out taking as many of the enemy with me as I could, sir," Tommy said, still standing stiff as a board and looking forward.

"Staff Sergeant." Colonel Roberts paused and lowered the tone in his voice. "Next time, try to come up with a less costly solution. You are dismissed. Go get some lunch and meet the dignitary if you can. From what I hear, she'll likely be hanging out with the mecha jocks. Now get. I've got to think on this situation more. And stay out of my sight for a little while or you might find that I lose my temper again."

"Yes, sir!" Tommy spun on his heel and marched out of Roberts's office.

Once the younger SNCO had closed the door behind him, Ramy motioned to Tamara to have a seat. He sat down and could no longer contain himself; he burst into laughter. Tamara followed suit. They laughed for several minutes, until tears filled their eyes and their sides hurt.

"G.o.dd.a.m.ned if that wasn't the quickest d.a.m.ned exercise I'd ever been in." Roberts pulled a bottle from his desk drawer along with two gla.s.ses. "I mean, h.e.l.l, why not just blow everybody up each time we get in a fight? Makes it all go by rather quickly."

"Well, sir"-Tamara nodded in acceptance of the shot of brandy-"we'd kinda start running short on Marines after judicious use of that tactic, sir."

"G.o.dd.a.m.ned right, Tammy." He held up his gla.s.s and silently toasted with his first sergeant. "So what are we gonna do about our staff sergeant, huh? That was amazingly quick-witted. When you saw all of those d.a.m.ned enemy AEMs pop into reality in front of you, what did you plan to do?"

"Mostly s.h.i.t my suit, sir. Then I thought I could take one or two of them with me before I was killed. I was reaching for a grenade, but by the time I had thought of that, Tommy had killed all of us." Tamara finished the shot of brandy and sat it back down on Ramy's desk.

"He's up for E-7. Been a while since we had a 'gunny' around the Robots-since Nicks took the job at the Island." Roberts laughed out loud. "I'd love to have seen the look on the Blair Blair's ground boss when he had to tell Admiral Walker that she had just lost over two hundred of her marines about one second after they hit the ground. G.o.dd.a.m.n, I'd love to've been a fly on that bulkhead."

"d.a.m.n right. I'll keep on Suez about it. He's a d.a.m.ned fine marine, sir. You know that. h.e.l.l, I've thought so ever since we got him before the Battle of the Oort. I recall him sweatin' like a mother needing a chill pill more than any marine I ever saw. But Tommy wouldn't take the drugs. And then he did the d.a.m.ndest thing after we loaded our gear. He unwrapped a piece of Halloween candy with his e-suit gloves on. I've never seen such suit control before. And green as h.e.l.l and on his first mission he managed to take out several enemy haulers with that commandeered Seppy ma.s.s driver. The kid has a gift at being an armored e-suit marine, sir."

"Good. Let's don't razz him too much and give the poor kid a complex of some sort. And let's hope and pray that we ain't never stuck with him in a situation where we are instantly, amazingly outnumbered." Roberts swiveled his desk chair and pulled a drawer open. He pulled out a folder and handed it to her.

"What's this, Colonel?" Tamara took the manila folder from him and opened it. It was a personnel file of new recruits. By the looks of it, the Robots were getting a few new faces. The face in the top file was of a new second lieutenant on his first tour. Tamara was certain that was just what they needed-a G.o.dd.a.m.ned fresh-out green lieutenant.

"Well, after Major Noonez retired to the Pentagon, we have finally gotten, or should I say are getting, a brand spanking new second lieutenant. We pick him up at the Oort station this afternoon. Read up on him. Otherwise, take some time for yourself.

"I think I'm gonna have some lunch. You interested?" Ramy shoved the desk drawer to and stood up, adjusted the waistband of his blue-gray digicam pants, and tucked in the utility cover in his back pocket just in case he went outside. In s.p.a.ce that wasn't likely, but trained habits die hard. And who knew? With the advent of these new QMT teleporters, any d.a.m.ned thing could happen.

"Colonel Fink, Mr. Stavros, Ms. Moore, welcome to the flight line." The young-looking lieutenant who was a.s.signed to them as a tour guide held out his arm as the elevator doors slid open. After a quick introduction to the bridge crew, senior staff, and the CO, RADM Jefferson, they had been handed off to a liaison officer for special dignitaries and were being toured around the ship. Dee didn't mind so much as she was getting to see the most awesome behemoth of firepower the United States military had ever managed. They had seen the bridge at the top of the tower, and the admiral had even let her sit in the captain's chair.

Under other circ.u.mstances the three civilians wouldn't have been as much of a sore thumb sticking out amidst the crew of a U.S. Navy warship other than the fact that they were constantly shadowed by a very large, dark-skinned man wearing a black suit and Secret Service visor. Dee had gotten so used to not going anywhere without an agent following behind that she paid him no attention. But her dad had insisted that Clay Jackson, the giant former AEM turned presidential bodyguard, go along with her on this planned out-of-system trip. Clearly, Clay made Jay uncomfortable, but if Colonel Fink even noticed him, she couldn't tell.

The hangar bay was filled with activity, as ingressing SH-102 Starhawks brought in the last cargo from Mars before the Madira Madira would QMT to the Oort. Navy VTF-32 Ares-T cla.s.s aeros.p.a.ce fighters filled the hangar from one end to the other, and the technicians, flight deck officers, and pilots were scurrying all about in T-shirts or coveralls of solid reds, greens, blacks, yellows, or oranges, depending on their particular jobs. Automated robot forklifts on preprogrammed routes or that were AIC-controlled were zigging and zagging in and out between vehicles and people carrying loads to and fro. The yellow and blackstriped vehicles almost looked like giant mutant mechanical insect menaces from early science fiction movies. Having grown up in Mississippi, the scene most reminded Dee of a fire-ant mound that had been kicked over. She knew what happened when you p.i.s.sed off a fire-ant mound, and she was curious what would happen if you p.i.s.sed off this bunch of deadly fire ants. would QMT to the Oort. Navy VTF-32 Ares-T cla.s.s aeros.p.a.ce fighters filled the hangar from one end to the other, and the technicians, flight deck officers, and pilots were scurrying all about in T-shirts or coveralls of solid reds, greens, blacks, yellows, or oranges, depending on their particular jobs. Automated robot forklifts on preprogrammed routes or that were AIC-controlled were zigging and zagging in and out between vehicles and people carrying loads to and fro. The yellow and blackstriped vehicles almost looked like giant mutant mechanical insect menaces from early science fiction movies. Having grown up in Mississippi, the scene most reminded Dee of a fire-ant mound that had been kicked over. She knew what happened when you p.i.s.sed off a fire-ant mound, and she was curious what would happen if you p.i.s.sed off this bunch of deadly fire ants.

On the starboard side of the supercarrier's hangar bay were the Marine FM-12 strike mecha fighters. Most of them were in fighter mode and were being loaded into their appropriate hangar location. A few of them were in bot or eagle modes and were being reloaded or serviced. Standing around the mecha were two Navy officers and one marine that Dee had seen at the White House over six years ago after that nightmare at Disney World. There was another female Navy officer, two female Marine officers, an Army colonel, and a few other marines, soldiers, and sailors that she didn't know.

"Captain Boland, Commander Fisher, nice to see you again. Major Strong." Dee nodded and shook their hands. She had seen them a few times around the Beltway the year she had turned twelve and felt some familiarity with them. She wasn't in any branch of the military yet anyway and was only a student in a private military school, so military protocols didn't exactly apply to her. Also, she was was the First Daughter of the country and could bend protocols every now and then and get away with it. the First Daughter of the country and could bend protocols every now and then and get away with it.

DeathRay and Fish had sat by her at her father's address to the nation just after the incident in Orlando. And the U.S. Marine FM-12 mecha jock with the long blond hair beside them was none other than Delilah "Jawbone" Strong. Jawbone had literally singlehandedly saved her and her family as they were trying to get away from wild, menacing terrorist-controlled dinosaur robots in Orlando. Dee had really liked Jawbone the few times she had met her, and looked up to the marine. In her eyes, there was only one other marine that was cooler: her dad. She did wonder what the marine was doing here since last she had known Jawbone was stationed in Florida. Dee also noted that she had been promoted to major. Her dad had seen fit to have her promoted from lieutenant to captain after the Orlando thing. Now, six years later, she was a major. Dee was proud of her. Her guess was that the hotshot mecha jock wanted to be where the action was, and everybody knew that there were only two ships in the fleet for that: the Blair Blair and the and the Madira Madira. Dee hoped one day she'd get the Madira Madira.

"Oh, this is my instructor Colonel Walt Fink, and my wingman at school, Jay Stavros." Dee could tell that Rat didn't like her taking the lead of the conversation, but she was was the President's daughter, and if he didn't like it... the President's daughter, and if he didn't like it...

"Colonel, Ms. Moore, Mr. Stavros." DeathRay stepped forward as if he were not sure if he should address the Secret Service agent or not. Dee could see that he hesitated slightly and then decided against doing so. After all, Dee and everybody else noticed the big man had no change of expression on his face after Boland glanced at him. Dee had always thought Clay was hilarious ever since the first day she had met him.

"Let me introduce a few folks to you," DeathRay continued. "This is U.S. Army Colonel Mason 'Warlord One' Warboys, leader of the Warlords M3A17-T tank mecha squad. These two here are U.S. Marine FM-12 strike mecha fighter pilots Lieutenant Colonel Caroline 'Deuce' Leeland and Major Connie 'Skinny' Munk of the mecha squadron called the Utopian Saviors. Major Strong there just joined them a few months back. And this is U.S. Navy Commander Wendy 'Poser' Hill, the commander of the VTF-32 Ares-T mecha squadron Demon Dawgs. I'm Captain Jack Boland, they call me DeathRay, and this is my wingman Commander Karen 'Fish' Fisher. We're from the navy squadron known as the G.o.ds of War." Dee liked the way Boland spoke and stood and, well, everything about him. She could find it real easy to do more than just "like" the man. Not only was he a tried and true bona fide hero and super mecha jock, he was also easy on the eyes in an action-hero sort of way. She instinctively adjusted her long, straight black hair behind her ear the way her mother so often did.

"It's nice to see you again, Ms. Moore," Delilah added and shook her hand and then shook Jay's as well. Dee could tell by the way her wingman was eyeing the Marine major that he thought she was easy on the eyes or hard on something else, and she wasn't quite sure which was distressing her cohort the most. Dee had to admit that Jawbone was worth looking at twice. h.e.l.l, all of them, men and women alike, in that group of transfigurable mecha pilots were rock-hard super athletes, but there were a few that had more than just the killer physique. There were a few that had the "it" factor. And Jawbone and one of the other female mecha jocks there had "it." Dee looked twice at Poser and Jawbone and wondered why they weren't in another line of work. Of course, that is exactly what people said about her. But she understood exactly why the two women were there. They were there to fly state-of-the-art fighting mecha!

"Ms. Moore." Colonel Warboys stepped forward and offered his hand. "You may not realize this, but we met very briefly when you were about six years old on the precipice of a bluff at Mons City on Mars. I was leading the tank squadron that met you and your family there that horrible day. Then I met you a little later on in the afternoon as well, when I got to meet your father for the first time. He is a great man."

"Oh! Yes. You are Warlord One! I remember you like it was yesterday." Dee turned to her bodyguard and pointed a thumb at him. "Clay Jackson was there right beside me in that foxhole, Colonel. He was a sergeant AEM at the time. It is good to finally put a face to the giant metal monster I remember. I'm sorry I don't recall meeting you out of your armor."

"Ma'am. You were very tired and had had a very long day. It's understandable." Warboys smiled a very personable, warm grin at her that reminded her of her father.

"Colonel." Clay shook the hand that Warboys offered. "It was a d.a.m.ned good thing the Warlords and those mechaheads from the Blair Blair arrived when you did that day." arrived when you did that day."

"Sergeant." Clay nodded solemnly as Warboys shook his hand. "That was a bad day for certain."

"One day on Mars that I wouldn't want to relive, Colonel," the bodyguard replied.

"Amen to that," Fish said. "I think everybody but Jawbone here was there that day."

"Ms. Moore and I had our fun elsewhere, didn't we, ma'am?" Jawbone added.

"I don't recall thinking of any of it as fun," Dee replied.

"Me, neither," Jawbone agreed. "Lost a couple good friends that day."

"I read about that on the Web," Lieutenant Colonel Leeland added. "We've all somehow or other been in it together. The Saviors, including Skinny and myself, were crawling around on that enemy hauler that was trying to crash on top of you during the Seppy Exodus. We tore that rust bucket to shreds but couldn't stop it."

"Right." DeathRay stepped in to change the subject. "Who wants to go for a ride in some mecha?"

"Can we?" Dee tried her best not to grin from ear to ear like the little girl the soldiers remembered from that day on Mars or from watching her grow up on television.

"Well, I'll have to ask the CAG first," DeathRay said almost a bit too smugly not to notice.

"Oh, Jesus! You're a corny ham, sir." His wingman laughed at him, not with him.

"For those not in on the joke," Commander Hill said with a smirk, "Captain Boland here is is the commander of the Air Group and has been for more than a decade. Of course, what he probably wouldn't tell you is that he was the CAG before that once, but he managed to get himself busted out of it for blowing up a civilian terraformer dome in the southern Martian desert." the commander of the Air Group and has been for more than a decade. Of course, what he probably wouldn't tell you is that he was the CAG before that once, but he managed to get himself busted out of it for blowing up a civilian terraformer dome in the southern Martian desert."

"All right, all right, you don't have to go bringing up that, Poser Poser." Boland smiled his best action-hero smile. There must've been some funny and embarra.s.sing story behind the marine's call sign. Dee was afraid to ask.