“No, we can’t do that,” came the reply from Barrett.
Arlo sighed. “What do you mean by that, Sergeant?” He could barely contain his fury at the man.
“It’s too likely that they have other traps waiting for us if we continue to use the road, Arlo. Any competent commander would see the driveway as a logical avenue of attack, and that’s why they were able to hit us and kill a dozen of our people. They knew exactly where we would be, and they just put one person in a place where she could see us and spring the trap. We have to get off the road and hit them from the field or risk losing more people.”
Arlo’s eyes cut over again to the knot of people in the Stryker with him. They were all pretending they were occupied with their individual tasks, but he knew better, they were listening to every word. Barrett had now dropped every pretense of respect and loyalty. His comment about a “competent commander” was like a knife to his heart. Arlo knew he had to regain control of the situation and there was only one way to do that. He would have to pretend he had authorized Barrett to make command calls in the field. He raised the volume of his voice slightly so that the soldiers could hear him.
“Yeah, roger that, sergeant. Good call. We’ll disperse the troops and approach them overland. Keep me apprised.”
There was a slight delay before the response came back. “Roger that. When is the Stryker moving up? We need that tank and its weapons to cover our advance.”
Arlo couldn’t keep the anger from his voice any longer. “The deployment of assets has already been discussed with you, Sergeant, and we won’t debate it further.”
Barrett slid his walkie back into the holster on his hip and pinched the bridge of his nose while squeezing his eyes shut. This technique sometimes helped him to calm down when he was under stress. It wasn’t working this time so he opened his eyes and looked at the people around him. They were almost finished getting the trucks and the two Humvees off of the road and lined up in preparation of the redirected attack. Everyone’s eyes were on him now.
Barrett wondered how many people were left out of their original corps of soldiers. Ninety? A hundred? They had started out with almost two hundred people, all of them trained soldiers and half of them were now dead. And for what? The people on the hill just wanted them to leave the survivors of the plague in peace so they could rebuild and get on with the process of living their lives. Why was Arlo so intent on destroying them? Were people dying for the man’s pride?
The young non-com knew his people were standing there, trusting him and waiting for his orders. Waiting for him to send them into harm’s way.
He stood and faced them.
“Okay, we’ll spread out and approach them off the road. The infantry will ride in the vehicles until we reach the last concealing natural swell of the land. Then they will disembark and slowly and carefully advance on the target while the vehicles hit them with machinegun fire.”
He turned to a knot of people whom he identified as the drivers of the vehicles and their gun crews. “Keep your trucks moving at all times, don’t give those fifties a stationary target. Your sole objective is to keep their heads down while our infantry advances. Make sure you don’t get too close and don’t stop for anything.
He received a few head nods from the truck crews and turned to the others. “These people are smart. Do not underestimate them. I guarantee you they will have already anticipated an overland attack and put countermeasures in place. Avoid obvious cover spots such as big rocks and fallen trees; they might be booby-trapped. Instead, use things such as natural rises in the landscape.”
He took a deep breath and put both hands on his hips. “Everyone make sure your mags are loaded and the actions of your weapons are clean. We’ll be moving out as soon as everyone’s ready. Godspeed, people.”
Barrett was surprised when several of the appointed non-coms issued a shout and the entire assemblage snapped into the position of attention and executed a salute. Barrett was a sergeant and sergeants didn’t rate such a gesture. Yet here they were, honoring him with one. It was a recognition of their loyalty to him.
He sighed. Then came to attention and returned the honor.
✽✽✽
“Listen up, people. Everyone take your combat stations. This is it.”
The Major’s pronouncement through the walkie shot a jolt of fear through me. I swept Pepper up into a tight hug then released her. She ran off to her duty station at the drone table, and I rushed over to the northern corner of the wall. The kid who had volunteered to clean my weapon had left it spotless and lightly oiled then installed it onto its tripod. Someone had stacked six crates of ammo belts in piles of three on the concrete next to it. Mona was opening them all with a crowbar.
“Hand me a belt,” I instructed. The words sounded a little authoritarian to my ears but I was in battle mode now, and Mona didn’t seem to take offense. I opened the action on the M240, and she laid the first round in position. The action snapped shut, and I pulled back on the charging handle then let it slam forward.
Now, all we had to do was wait.
Pops was making his way around the compound checking on everyone, ensuring that no one had gotten confused and no fighting stations were unattended. Pops was in total command of Dragon’s Lair in normal times but, with a battle looming, he had ceded that authority to the Major and stepped down to second-in-command. When he made it to my station, he wrapped his arms around me and gave me a long embrace. We both felt a little self-conscious about the display but the unknown was approaching, and we knew we might never see the other person alive again.
Pops noticed Mona’s chin quivering, so he pulled her in for a hug also. “Hey, relax, Sweetie,” he soothed. “We’re going to win this thing.”
She swiped at a tear that had formed and nodded, giving him a grateful smile.
“So what does it look like on the drone display,” I asked.
“They’ve abandoned the road and are making their way up the hillside. They’re going slow now, obviously reacting to our ambush earlier.” He paused while he took a sip from a bottle of water. “Marie ruined their speedy attack.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Her knee is broken, and her shoulder was dislocated, but she’ll be okay.”
I dreaded the possible news, but I needed to know, so I asked. “And Dee and Isaac?”
Pops took a long, deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Isaac will pull through. He suffered a dozen or so bites, three of them bad enough to turn your stomach but all of them missed his arteries. Sharon’s having trouble keeping him lying down, the man wants to be out here for the fight. Dee…well, son; Dee didn’t make it. Her wounds were just too serious. She was gone when you got her here.”
My stomach churned, and I almost fell backward; Pops and Mona caught me and sat me back on one of the stacks of ammo belt crates. My vision had swirled and dimmed, but now it was returning. All I could think of was that I had been responsible for keeping the horde off of my teammates. I had failed, and Dee was dead because of it.
“Easy, son,” Pops’ voice made it through the sound of rushing liquid in my ears. “You did all you could for her. Those bastards down the hill have brought this on us, and they are the only ones responsible. If we didn’t have to be ready for their attack, we could have sent you fifty people to repel the Ragers. It’s not your fault.”
I still felt like it was my fault, but I didn’t say anything because he would only tell me it wasn’t again so I nodded and stood up.
“I’m better now; the news caught me by surprise is all.” I generated a smile and patted Mona on the shoulder. “Thanks, guys.”
Pops held out his fist, and I tapped it with my own. It was our little way of avoiding more emotional displays when we could manage it. It looked like Pops had more to say, but a shout from one of our people on the walls sent him running to the drone table.
I knew what the shout meant, the enemy had reached a point in which they were in sight.
&
nbsp; ✽✽✽
Barrett held his people back behind the edge of the massive swell of landscape that concealed them from the eyes of the castle defenders. He opened up two lanes, one on the north side and the other on the south. These areas he kept clear for the trucks and their mounted machine guns. The guns were mostly Squad Automatic Weapons or SAWs as the soldiers commonly referred to them. They fired .556 ammunition, the same as the M-4 rifles but with a higher rate of fire.
The collection of former soldiers and gang bangers were positioned at least five hundred yards from the stronghold walls. From here the only thing the attackers could actually see were the tops of the two towers. The walls were banked with so much soil and grass that they were almost undetectable at this distance.
After making his observations, Barrett brought up his six rocket launcher teams and positioned them evenly across the rim of the rise. The IMI B-300 Reusable Anti-Tank Rocket System had an effective range of just over four hundred yards. That was short of their protected position by a hundred yards or so but that didn’t mean they were totally ineffective.
He checked his watch just as his walkie screeched. He turned down the squelch knob and Arlo’s voice came through.
“Barrett, what the hell is going on out there? I don’t hear any shooting.”
He didn’t answer the radio call. Instead, he judged the distance to the towers and brought the walkie to his lips.
“Rocket teams three and four you read?”
“Three, reading loud and clear.”
“Four, Lima Charlie.”
“Both teams take aim at the north tower. Launch one rocket each then pull back from the edge and relocate. Do not, repeat, do not fire a second barrage from the same position.”
Four clicks from the transmit buttons of the two rocket teams indicated an acknowledgment of their orders. Barrett stuck his head up just high enough that his eyes were over the rim of the rise.
Twenty seconds passed. Then thirty. Then forty.
✽✽✽
I was spending my time alternating between peeking over the edge of the wall at the enemy hiding behind the natural ridge and carrying out a whispered conversation with Mona. The level of tension within the compound was high. It was almost ten o’clock now, and the sun was growing hot on my head. I dug into my shoulder pack and took out my boonie hat.
I was just positioning the hat on my head when I felt something nudge my leg and looked down to see Lex staring up at me, panting with his tongue out. Since we found the big mutt, he had mostly become Pops’ dog, sleeping in the room that my father now shared with Sharon. Sometimes I would be in my bedroom watching a video on my tablet, and I would feel him slip his head under my hand, insisting on a scratch. These were times when the big canine would flop onto his side and put his head in my lap. We both enjoyed our little visits, as infrequent as they were.
I gathered that Pops was off attending to his duties and Lex had been left to fend for himself. I gave him a scratch, then returned my attention to the ridge. Mona had taken over attending to Lex, wrapping his big head in her arms and hugging him tightly.
I could barely see the ridgeline with my naked eyes, so I switched on my electronic sights and adjusted the telescopic feature. As I dialed the controls in, the image of the distant landscape grew in the scope. I could only catch an occasional helmeted head bobbing around behind the ridge, but I could hear the sounds generated by the gathering army. They were not even attempting to be quiet. I heard shouts, radio squelches and revving truck engines. I was most concerned about that wheeled tank, but I didn’t see any signs of it. I teased myself that it might have suffered a mechanical breakdown.
Yeah, right!
Almost as one, I saw two heads pop up, about forty yards away from each other. They were both pointing tubular weapons in our directions. I’d seen those tubes before and been on the receiving end of their capabilities.
“Rocket attack!”
Two smoking trails flashed over our heads too quickly to follow with our eyes. I swung around to look back over my shoulder at the towers. Both rockets went high and right.
I let out the breath I was holding and reacquired my sight picture, sending a stream of .308 bullets at the place where I had seen one of the rocket teams exposing themselves. I tore a big gap in the rim of the ridge, but there was no one there now. The rocket launcher team had moved as soon as it fired.
Damn!
No one else on our side had fired. The Major had drilled into us the importance of conserving ammunition and not shooting unless you had a target. I just happened to have seen the rocket teams making their preparations.
I increased the magnification on my sights and just barely caught a trace of movement. There was a hint of green at the very rim of the concealing ridgeline which told me that there was at least one helmeted head just on the other side. My eyes cut over to the big hole I had just torn through the ridge with my short burst. The gap I opened up was about two feet deep and three wide.
I swung the barrel of my weapon back to where I had managed to glimpse the flash of helmet and slowly coaxed the trigger rearward.
✽✽✽
“Damn it; get back away from the rim!”
After shouting the order, Barrett stared at the bloodied form that two seconds earlier had been a living human being. Vargas had been with the National Guard unit since San Diego, and now he was lying in pieces on the ground thirty yards from where Barrett knelt. He didn’t know for sure how the enemy machine gunner had seen Vargas, but he theorized that the enemy had military-grade optics. That would make his job harder.
He snatched his walkie from the holster. “LT, we need that Stryker up here now,” he demanded.
The reply came back fifteen seconds later. “Negative, sergeant. We’ll stick to the battle plan.” The calmness and arrogance of the former lieutenant’s voice was infuriating.
Barrett stuck his head up and did a fast recon of the area beyond the ridge before ducking back down. He wondered how many machine guns were up there, loaded and just waiting for a target to materialize.
“All non-coms, listen up.” Barrett released the send button as he considered the clearest way to express his instructions then keyed it again. “Fifty yards closer to the target is another slight hill. It’s on the extreme south side of the approach and is useable as a cover position. I want Rocket Teams one and six ready to run at my signal. When I give the word, every gun we have will fire at the castle. While the enemy’s heads are down, the two rocket teams will make a dash for that hill. We have a limited supply of rockets and you have to get close enough for them to be effective. Teams one and six will carry four rockets each. Once they set up, on my command, they will deliver their payload directly into those two towers. All non-coms acknowledge and signal when ready to execute.”
Barrett received responses from his people and waited for them to all signal that they were ready. The last transmission came from a corporal on the far south edge of the rim. The Sergeant sighed and risked another peek at the secondary cover position behind the little hill. He didn’t like it. If he were working for the people in the castle, he would have long ago identified that position as likely to be utilized as cover by an invading force. He would also have taken steps to neutralize that danger. He did a mental recount of the conditions he was facing here, searching for another way. There was none. The five hundred yards that his people would need to cross to gain entry to the stronghold was a killing field. The castle machine gunners would have a field day with the unprotected runners unless Barrett could somehow cloak their rush to safety.
Without the Stryker to provide them cover, Barrett had no choice. He had to take those towers out regardless of the danger to the rocket teams. With the trucks delivering cover fire, they just might make it.
There were no other options that he could see. He thumbed the send switch on his walkie.
“On the count of three. One, two…”
✽✽✽
Pepper
adjusted the focus on the helo-drone and called the Major over to the drone table. Off to the side, just behind the defensive wall, Dwayne was disconnecting the fixed wing from the electrical outlet. The big drone took a long time to charge fully but it made up for it by staying in the air for long periods. Dwayne tested the motor and nodded his satisfaction.
“What’s up, Pepper?” the Major asked as he arrived. His face was dripping with perspiration because he was wearing his body armor under his load bearing vest. In the afternoon heat, it was just slightly bearable.
Pepper pointed to the scene on the laptop. The helo was now hovering at its maximum height and as far south as she could keep it and still maintain good surveillance on the battleground. “They pulled back away from the top of the ridge, but now they’re all massing just below it. Looks like they’re getting ready to try something.”
The Major’s experienced eyes took in the scene. He saw the long line of people all dressed in military clothes and equipment. They were checking their weapons, getting up on their feet while remaining crouched over. They were definitely ready for something, and it was going to happen fast. At the extreme southern edges of the enemy lines, the Major spotted two groups of three people each. The groups had all the appearances of being combat teams. There was one person in each trio carrying a rucksack from which protruded pointed cylinders.
Rockets.
He studied the approach to the stronghold on the laptop display, searching for the most likely destination for the rocket teams. “Gayle? Are you ready on position four?”
Ten yards from his left side, Gayle Teller, our Electronics Engineer had her collapsible table set up. She had rigged up a monitor on the desk and was receiving feeds from four cameras spaced evenly across the western wall facing the massing enemy. She glanced at her ‘cheat-sheet’ taped to the tabletop to make sure which of her targets was position four.
Virgil's War- The Diseased World Page 45
