Gears of War: Anvil Gate by Karen Traviss

“Out!” and the dog had stopped shaking and tearing, but his jaws were now clamped tight on the man’s shoulder.
That was nearly me. Wasn’t it?
She’d once been exactly where this man was. Only armor and fellow Gears with chainsaw bayonets had saved her.
    “Mac, out! Leave! Drop him!” Bernie went through every command she’d used with her cattle dogs in the hope that something would trigger him to stand down. “Leave it! Down!
Off!
”
    Mac lifted his head and backed away, clearly reluctant. But he did it. He even came to heel. The Stranded bomber was moaning and trying to curl up in a ball.
    Marcus moved in to check him over. He let out a long breath. “Sorotki? Mitchell? We’ve got
two
casevacs now.”
    “That’s … the … idea.” Bernie gasped for breath, bent over with her hands braced on her hips. Her legs were shaking with the effort. “Deterrent.”
    Mac looked as if he was deciding between going back in to finish the job and waiting for praise. He even wagged his tail and looked up into her face:
Am I a good boy? This is what you wanted, right?
It was sobering to see that wonderful, adoring, anything-to-please-you expression with blood around the muzzle.
    “Yeah, good boy.” She managed to suck in some more air. Tomorrow was going to hurt. “You got him.”
    Sporadic fire rattled in the near distance. Dom and Cole must have pinned down the third man. Mitchell jogged toward Marcus clutching a small red plastic case and knelt down to examine the Stranded. The guy who’d been run down was unconscious. The one Mac had caught was awake and making that thin, animal wailing sound of someone in shock.
    “Shit. What’s your name, buddy? Can you hear me?” Mitchell didn’t get an answer. “That thing nearly ripped his scalp off.”
    “You bastards,” the man said suddenly. “You
bastards
. You’re worse than the fucking grubs.”
    That seemed to hit a nerve with Marcus. Bernie could feel his distaste again—the gradual turn of the head like a slow-motion shake, the long blink as he shut his eyes for a moment. It never felt like it was aimed directly at her. It seemed more like his general disgust at human excess seeped out of him some days.
    “Our doctor’s going to treat you right alongside the Gears you blew up,” Marcus said. “So shut it.”
    He turned his back and stood with his eyes closed, talking quietly to Control. He didn’t seem happy with the answers he was getting, and looked over his shoulder at Bernie.
    “What?” she said.
    “These guys are a special delivery for Trescu. I don’t think he’s planning to bake them a cake.”
    “Ah.” Bernie had a pretty good idea of Gorasnaya’s old reputation. “Whose idea was that?”
    “Not Hoffman’s, if that’s what’s worrying you.”
    “Come on, Sam.” Mitchell straightened up, first aid finished. “Give me a hand. Let’s get this chew toy back to Doc Hayman and make her day.”
    Dom and Cole reappeared, dragging the third man between them. Actually, he wasn’t a man. Up close, he looked about fifteen, if that. Bernie had stopped seeing kids as noncombatants a long time ago, but it still brought her up short.
    “Get your fucking hands off me,” he spat, all terrified bravado. “Where’s my dad? I want my dad. What have you done to him?”
    Everyone has a dad. Even monsters. It doesn’t change a thing. His dad is blowing up my mates. And so is he
.
    It still wasn’t easy to ignore. But seeing the enemy’s point of view didn’t end a war any faster than reducing them to monsters. It just made it harder for her to get the job done.
    Bernie hung back with Marcus while the others loaded to the Raven. Only the dog would hear what she said to him now. And Mac was too busy licking himself.
    “Look,” she said. “A dog tearing you apart isn’t any more immoral than a land mine shredding you. It’s all dirty either way. They didn’t stop to worry if Andresen had a family.”
    Marcus was expressionless. “You