It didn't matter. There was no removing himself from this mission. He and the jeesh could move because they had the Bones, and the other guys couldn't, and so it was up to them to hold off the attackers as long as they could. At this point their lives became expendable.
Mingo, Load, Drew, and Babe were all in better shape than Cole was. Better if they did the shooting, and Cole stayed back to pass information to them from the displays. It would be no help to them if Cole died meaninglessly because he couldn't think straight. But if he was needed—when he was needed—he'd shoot as best he could.
Worst of all, strange ideas kept running through his head. He knew it was just the paranoia of the jeesh infecting his feverish mind, but he couldn't shake the feeling that it was President Torrent who had sent this squad of soldiers to attack them. That somehow it was part of his plan to make martyrs out of the American soldiers and Christian caregivers in Nigeria.
He thought of the Indian Mutiny of 1857, when native Indian soldiers rebelled against the British East India Company. In the aftermath, it gave the imperialists in Britain a pretext to end Company rule in India and add Empress of India to Queen Victoria's titles. Or the sinking of the Lusitania, or the taking of the Alamo, the sinking of the Maine—outrages that galvanized the public and made jingo-ists and imperialists out of them all.
He remembered a class session on the Crimean War, and the popular song that gave rise to the term jingoism.
We don't want to fight, yet by jingo, if we do,
We've got the ships, we've got the men,
And got the money, too!
They're coming here because Torrent needs them to wipe us out in order to stir up the fever of imperialism in American hearts, and to justify his actions to the world.
Torrent would never do something fake, like the Gulf of Tonkin or the ridiculous pretense Hitler staged of Polish troops attacking Germans in 1939. Torrent would have something real, and completely untraceable back to him. Yet somehow he made it happen, because it would serve his purposes so well.
How else would the Sudanese know that the entire American base in Calabar had the nicto at the same time?
This is insane, a part of his mind kept saying, but the thoughts raced through his head again and again, around and around, accompanied by the same stupid song. This is just what Torrent wants, just what he wants.
"Cole," said one of the men. "What are you talking about?"
He realized he was singing the song—whispering it, really—but one of the features of the Noodle was that it would amplify the slightest sound from the leader's helmet and transmit it at a fully audible volume level to his men.
"Sorry," said Cole.
"Don't go south on us, Captain," said Babe.
I'm not the captain, thought Cole. Reuben's the captain. His jeesh, not mine.
Torrent's sending enemy troops to kill us, just like the trap in Bangui. Just like in New York City, which made him think of the technology they were going to face.
"They've got the EMP thing," said Cole. "They've got it. They're going to immobilize us."
"Damn," said Mingo. "You're probably right."
It had taken a fever to put himself on the same paranoid level his men were already on. Torrent couldn't be behind this. But somebody was.
What to do to do to do. Can't fight without Bones, but if we use the Bones they can shut us down.
"They can only shut us down for thirty seconds at a time. Long enough to reboot," said Drew.
That's right, thought Cole.
"Okay, here's the plan," said Mingo. "We go as two pairs. Only one man shoots and moves forward at a time, and nothing big, no huge jumps that put us up in the air and expose us."
"Like any of us can do that right now," said Babe.
"Other guy hangs back," Mingo continued. "When they zap the first guy, second guy stays under cover but keeps the enemy from hurting his partner till he can reboot. Got it? Never expose all four of us at a time."
They're counting to four, but I make five. They're doing this without me. They can do this without me. They never needed me. I shouldn't even be here. I should be back at the university lying in bed waiting for them to come and kill me.
"Is that all right, Captain Cole?" asked Mingo.
"Captain Cole?" echoed Drew.