Burning Nation

by Trent Reedy

  “Come on, come on! Move it!” Luchen shouted.

  When all four snowmobiles were running and out on the snow, everyone loaded food, ammo, radios, the two .50-cal machine guns, a couple extra M4s, and the C4 onto the sled.

  “Hey, these guys were packing a bunch of 307 rounds. What should I do with them?” Crocker asked.

  “Leave them. We don’t have an M307, and I have an idea,” Kemp said. “Wright, you know trucks, right?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  Kemp pulled four blocks of C4 from his rucksack. “Let’s make sure the Fed can’t use these Humvees against us anymore. Get a wire hooked up to the electrical ignition system. Three or four feet would be great. Then let’s get these passenger-side seats off.”

  “Here.” Sparrow popped the hood latch on her side as I did the same on mine. Then we raised the armored hood and I went right for the glow plug that started the diesel engine. I handed Sparrow my knife. “Get me some wire from the comm.”

  These Humvees were fitted with a system that allowed everyone in the vehicle to communicate via helmet radios. While Sparrow cut loose some wire, I struggled to pop the pain-in-the-ass latch that held the passenger-seat plate down. Finally, I pulled the seat away, exposing the two big batteries in the compartment below. Kemp took out the back passenger seat.

  “Can I help?” Sweeney asked.

  “You and Becca get those seats off the other Humvee,” I said.

  Sparrow came back with the wire. Kemp smiled at me. “Give me a .45 round and connect one end of that wire to the glow plug.” I gave him a bullet and went to work. Luchen already had another wire for the other Humvee. Kemp pulled the free end of the wire through a conduit in the fire wall. Then in a few quick moves, he turned the bullet into an improvised blasting cap and primed a block of C4 with it.

  “Luchen, Crocker, pull that battery up. Sparrow, stick this block and another on the floor under the battery. Make sure both blocks of C4 are pushed up tight together for continuity. Then, Sparrow, run a det cord line to the backseat. Use either end to prime one block under the front seat and one block in back. You know the knots. Put a chain of grenade rounds on top of them in back. Then close everything back up so the Feds don’t know we did anything. Got it?”

  “Roger, Sergeant!” Sparrow said.

  “Luchen, Crocker, help her. Sweeney, Wright, Cal, Becca, help me rig up the other Humvee the same way. Move it, people!” Kemp said.

  We worked very fast but perfectly in synch, everybody doing what they had to do. When a Fed started the engine, the electric ignition system would set off the improvised blasting cap, which would detonate the C4 blocks under the batteries. The batteries would fragment into a geyser of molten lead and battery acid, exploding all over the inside of the Humvee. At almost the same instant, the C4 under the backseat would explode, setting off the M307 grenade rounds.

  “That ought to do it,” said Kemp.

  “Sucks to be the Fed,” Cal said.

  “Let’s go!” said Sparrow.

  We ran to the snowmobiles. Whatever supplies wouldn’t fit in the sled we held in our laps.

  “Schmidty said his friend had a cabin up on Silver Mountain,” I said. “Shady Glen Road.”

  “Got it.” Sweeney got on Silver Bullet, putting on a black helmet. “I know the trails around here better than anyone. We gotta move fast, so stay with me, and go exactly where I go.”

  “I kind of want to hang around and watch the Fed start those Humvees,” said Luchen.

  “Too late.” Sweeney throttled up and slid ahead.

  All four of Sweeney’s snowmobiles could seat two, but there weren’t enough helmets to go around, and out in that cold, zipping through the wind as the sun lowered in the west, the air bit deep. Sweeney led the way with Crocker on the back of his snowmobile. I followed with Becca behind me, her face pressed to my back to stay out of the wind. Sparrow drove behind me with Luchen holding on to her. Kemp brought up our tail with Cal riding backward, guarding our six with the SAW and more SAW ammo stolen from the Feds we’d just taken out.

  Sweeney wasn’t kidding. He made that snowmobile absolutely fly, sled and all. Up and up we moved, sliding along trails that would have been well-kept in peacetime. Now the snow was thick and powdery, getting deeper and deeper the higher up the mountain we went. Sweeney led us around and around to make our trail too confusing to follow.

  After a few minutes, a bright flash lit up the snow all around us. One second later another went off. The sound wave hit us two seconds after that. We all stopped to watch two fireballs roll up through the sky. Some unlucky Fed soldiers had started the Humvees, and the C4 had done its job.

  “Got ’em!” Luchen shouted. Cal pumped his fist in the air.

  Sweeney gunned his engine, leading us on up Silver Mountain. We drove on and on until my hands and legs were ice cold. I couldn’t imagine what Becca was going through with no helmet or goggles.

  Finally, Sweeney brought us to a halt in a clearing next to a steep, snowy slope. He shut off his engine and removed his helmet, and we all did the same. He motioned us all closer and pointed down the hill. “I’m pretty sure that Shady Glen Road is down below us. It’s a two- or three-mile offshoot from the main road. I figured we didn’t want to pull up right in front of the place. Feds might be all over the better-traveled streets.”

  “Right,” said Kemp. “Now we got to get inside before we start to get frostbite.”

  “Anyone live at this place?” Cal asked.

  I wiped my runny nose on my sleeve. “Schmidty didn’t say. He just said his friend had a cabin up here, a converted barn.”

  “How do we do this?” Sparrow asked.

  “Someone needs to stay up here with the gear,” said Kemp. “Crocker, Sweeney, Luchen, Riccon, that’s you. Crocker, guard the supplies. Luchen, you’re a good shot. Cover us on overwatch with that fifty-cal rifle. Sweeney, you know the snowmobiles best. You stay with them. Four snowmobiles up here. Four people to bring them down to get us in case there’s trouble.”

  “H-here.” Crocker handed me a little Motorola hand radio. “We should assume the Feds are monitoring all channels. Try to keep radio silence. If you do have to use it, make short transmissions. The longer you keep the mike keyed, the easier it will be for the Fed to zero in on us.”

  “Right,” I said. Our commo specialist might actually be getting the hang of this. “Good work, Crocker.”

  “Wright, Sparrow, Becca.” Kemp shook his head. “Becca, you got a last name?”

  “Wells. Becca Wells, um, Sergeant.”

  “Right,” said Kemp. “Wright, Sparrow, Wells. Let’s do this.”

  “Sergeant,” I said. “Becca’s never really been on an op like this. She hasn’t been trained.”

  “I’ve done just fine so far,” Becca said. “If Sergeant Kemp says I’m going, I’m going.”

  “It’s your call, Wright,” Kemp said, “if you think she’s not ready.”

  “It is not your call! I’m coming with you!” She gave me a look that didn’t leave a lot of room to argue.

  “If you two are d-d-done with your lover’s quarrel, I’d like to g-get down there and get inside,” Sparrow said.

  The four of us moved down the hill. With the snow up almost to our crotches, it was easiest just to dive and roll on top, dropping into the tree wells where the snow was shallow and we could use the evergreen trunks for cover. Sparrow slid down into the tree well right behind me. She was shivering and breathing heavy from the exercise.

  “You okay?” I asked quietly.

  “Oh yeah. I’m just great,” she said. “Let’s keep moving.”

  The place was easy enough to spot — a barn-style building with a garage and fireplace. Kemp and Becca tumbled down by us. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s there,” Kemp said. “It’s hard to tell, but the road hasn’t been plowed. Let’s get down there to make sure.”

  A short time later, we’d cased the place out. One end of the barn hadn’t been converted to
a cabin and remained fit for livestock, with two horse stalls, plenty of hay and straw, and even a small paddock outside. Becca looked hopefully at me, and I knew her mind was already turning over ways to bring Lightning up here. We moved around the place with our rifles at the ready, looking in the windows like some SWAT team from a cop show.

  “It’s empty,” I said. “But there might be an alarm system. We should disable that before we try to break in.”

  Kemp looked up the snowy slope. “I wish we could radio the others, but we better save it for emergencies. Wells and I will go back up the hill. Wright, you and Sparrow see if you can find any alarm and get it shut off.”

  We looked around the outside, but couldn’t find anything. “It’s-s-s an old p-place. M-m-maybe there’s no alarm,” Sparrow said.

  Maybe she was right. Or maybe there was an alarm, but no electricity up here. I stepped up to the locked back door with a crowbar I’d found in the generator shed. After a couple tries, all I could say about breaking open locked doors was that it looked a lot easier on TV than it was in real life.

  “Give me that,” Sparrow said. She slammed the crowbar into the door frame and threw her whole body weight against it. Wood cracked and splintered. She tried again, and the door finally popped open.

  “By-the-book entrance?” I asked.

  “Fine.” She sighed.

  I stood against the wall by the side of the door with the butt of my M4 pressed to my chest and the barrel pointed down at a forty-five-degree angle. Sparrow did the same behind me, so close that she’d feel me when I moved. “On three,” I said.

  “Roger.”

  I leaned back and counted out my forward movements. “One, two, three!” I ran into the room, leading with my rifle in a sweep to the right. Sparrow aimed her rifle around to the left. “Clear! Check high,” I said. We pointed our rifles up to make sure the upper parts of the room were safe. It was all part of our room-clearing training, which the Army had made us drill over and over again.

  By the time Sweeney and the guys had brought the snowmobiles down with our gear, Sparrow and I had cleared every room of the two-story, three-bedroom barn house. The place had a big, open stone fireplace in the living room and cast-iron wood stoves in the kitchen and one of the three upstairs bedrooms. Building a fire was a risk, but a heat signature in a residential place out in the woods like this wouldn’t be as suspicious as one in a business like the shop, when it was supposed to be closed for the night. Besides, we were all so chilled that if we didn’t get warmed up soon, we’d risk hypothermia.

  A short time later, Cal and I had a fire going in the fireplace. Sparrow sat on the big stone hearth, shivering under a blanket I’d found in one of the bedrooms. Luchen rubbed her shoulders. Kemp lit a fire in the stove upstairs, where he stood watch with Luchen’s .50-cal rifle near a big window that gave him a view of the road. Cal found some peroxide and bandages in a first-aid kit. He took care of his cuts from the attack on the shop.

  We were safe for now, those of us who had survived. I went by myself into the third bedroom and shut the door behind me.

  I was alone, with nobody else watching or listening to me. I didn’t have to smell Luchen’s farts. I didn’t have to listen to Sparrow and Sweeney argue about some dumb thing. Finally, after all these weeks. Alone. I leaned back against the wall, closed my eyes, and slid down until I sat on the floor in the quiet.

  Slowly my adrenaline died down and my body stopped shaking. The rush, the panic, the fight was over, and the thoughts and memories started flooding in. Herbokowitz … the way he’d been torn apart. Bagley, who’d been so scared for so long, shredded. The Feds I’d had to shoot. How many had we killed that day? I hated them. Yeah. But … in the moment, in the middle of the fight, the hate kept me going. Afterward, it was hard to keep the anger up. Some of the soldiers I’d killed had to have been like Specialist Mueller, who’d only wanted to go home, and who let me, Sweeney, and Becca go free after the school thing. Because of what we’d done today, the Army would be contacting more families, telling them they’d never see their loved ones ever again.

  Then I thought of Schmidty, slowly bleeding out in the ruins of the shop. He’d started to tell me he’d never had a son of his own. He didn’t have to say more. I knew what he meant. The Fed had killed him. Major Alsovar had killed him just to piss me off.

  I rubbed my aching left hand. Well, fine. Alsovar had succeeded, but he had no idea the storm he’d brought on himself and the Fed. We were hidden up here for now, but soon enough, we’d bring a hellfire avalanche down the mountain.

  —• pending the notification of the deceased soldiers’ families, but one thing is clear. Daniel Wright and his insurgent allies have resorted to Al Qaeda–style terrorist tactics, first in a deadly attack outside a school, and now by rigging an IED in two Army Humvees, killing innocent soldiers. That’s why the FBI is issuing a substantial reward for information leading to the arrests of Private Daniel Wright, Calvin Riccon, Eric Sweeney, and Becca Wells, and Private First Class Henry Nelson, Specialist Shawna Sparrow, Private First Class Nick Luchen, Specialist William Danning, Specialist Anthony Crocker, and Sergeant Thomas Kemp. Anyone who wishes to help bring these terrorist insurgents to justice should contact the FBI via the number listed on the US government’s Idaho Crisis resource site. •—

  —• From ABC News, I’m Rick Calpis. President Griffith executed another in a series of unprecedented steps today when she announced that leave and passes have been indefinitely suspended for all officers and enlisted personnel in every branch of the military. The Department of Homeland Security has issued a National Terrorism Advisory System elevated alert for all military bases in the United States and imminent alerts for all bases in Texas and Oklahoma. The country has not been on this high a level of domestic military preparedness since the immediate aftermath of 9/11.

  Despite larger signing bonuses and a near-record-high national unemployment rate, the US military is having difficulty filling recruitment quotas. Troop levels are up slightly from those after large Defense Department budget cuts several years ago, but Pentagon analysts warn that increased overseas and domestic deployments, coupled with the loss of some National Guard support, might reduce overall mission effectiveness.

  In the wake of this report, congressional debate is set to begin next week on a bill to reinstate the draft for the first time since it was discontinued in 1973. The United States has required men from ages eighteen to twenty-five to register for selective service for decades, but this has remained a backup for an all-volunteer force. President Griffith says that in light of the current crisis, she is open to the possibility of draft reinstatement, but would also ask that the draft be expanded to include women.

  In the Canadian Parliament, a discussion has begun over legislation designed to address Canada’s increasing problem with American refugees. Debate was heated in the House of Commons today over a controversial proposal to deny entry to American citizens, even those claiming refugee status or seeking asylum. These proposals come in response to the thousands of US citizens crossing the border, many of them undocumented and unprepared for a longer stay in Canada. Supporters of these border-closing measures emphasize that such restrictions would not constitute a trade embargo or any other diplomatic barrier. The White House was unavailable for comment.

  According to recent surveys, religious practice in America has reached levels unheard of in many years. Churches, synagogues, mosques, and other places of worship are all seeing sharp surges in regular attendance. Almost all religious leaders cite fear and uncertainty regarding the Idaho Crisis as a significant contributing factor behind the increase. You’re listening to ABC News. •—

  —• Broadcasting with five hundred thousand watts, AM 1040 Republic of Idaho Radio, RIR. In Idaho news, President Montaine attended the graduation ceremony for nearly ten thousand soldiers, including just over three thousand women, the first class of troops to complete training after the president invoked the militia clause
in December. Most of the soldiers will serve in the Idaho infantry and other combat units, but about eight hundred soldiers, a large proportion of whom are conscientious objectors or unfit for combat operations, will serve in various support capacities. President Montaine, after expressing his pleasure at an estimated 97 percent compliance rate with the enlistment requirement, said this in his address.”

  “It has been said that those who came of age during the Great Depression of the 1930s and who went on to win World War II are the Greatest Generation. But I’m here to tell you today, as president of the Republic of Idaho and your commander in chief, that you are the greatest generation that any country has ever known. You are the revolutionaries of the new Republic of Idaho, facing a powerful enemy who wishes to rob us all of our freedom. Your efforts in the coming months will be spoken of with reverence in our history books for generations to come. Soldiers of the Republic of Idaho, I salute you! •—

  —• Welcome back to Viewpoints. Ladies, have you seen the latest … absolute garbage coming from Montaine? I think I’ll call him Mudstain. Anyway, Mudstain has the audacity to compare his terrorist thugs to the men and women who won World War II! Were the handful of National Guard soldiers who murdered twelve people in Boise at the start of all this better than those who liberated France? Better than the Tuskegee Airmen who fought Nazis in the air and then discrimination at home?”

  “That’s a great point, Belinda. And you know all of us women here on Viewpoints are Laura Griffith’s number one supporters. I always say, ‘She’s our gal!’ But I also want to say, ‘Madame President, if you’re watching this … Hello. Montaine is playing you with these peace talks. He doesn’t care about the ID Card Act anymore. He’s stalling to keep you off his back, so he can get his army built up.’ ”

  “Jubilee, while I agree with you about Mudstain, I think the president has a plan. She was on the show several times when she was a senator and I can tell you, nobody plays Laura Griffith. •—