“You do know what that is, right?” Jess asked her.
“Yeah, it’s ancient America,” she retorted.
The response made them all ponder. Tori broke the silence.
“We don’t have a lot of time. Let’s do this,” she said, taking off before they could discuss the route.
Nathan looked at Jess, almost as if he were waiting for her to comment on Tori.
“Don’t look at me; she’s your old fling.”
“We never flung!”
“Flung? You’re so stupid.”
“Let’s go before she gets herself shot.”
Nathan moved past Jess, and Denny followed behind him. Jess maintained rear security as they moved forward. The group soon met back up with Tori, who was peering around the corner of a shipping container. The rest of them stacked up behind her.
“What do you see?” Nathan asked her.
“Check out those tracks,” she said, pointing down to a trail that was cut into the ground by the circling interior security guards.
“When do you think they’ll be around?” Jess asked.
“Not sure,” Nathan said. “When we were scoping the place out, this particular area was a blind spot. But there were two guards, remember? Besides, with the distraction outside, I doubt they’ll be around for a while. They’re probably taking a secure position somewhere and preparing for an attack of their own.”
Tori thought for a second then offered up a suggestion. “We can come up with an idea to lure them in this way; then you two can put on their uniforms,” she said, pointing at Denny and Nathan.
“That’s not a bad idea, boss,” Denny said, looking at Nathan with a hint of a shoulder shrug.
“Okay. That way we can get a better visual on exactly what we’re dealing with in here,” Nathan concluded.
“I’ll grab their attention,” Tori said, taking off again and disappearing around the corner.
“She’s a ticking time bomb, Nathan,” Jess said, pointing to where Tori used to be positioned.
“She’s changed. She’s not the way I remember her,” he responded.
Jess liked the answer. She was intimidated by Tori and moderately jealous of her relationship with Nathan. The idea that she was changed gave her hope that Nathan wasn’t really interested in her anymore. She wanted to know for certain, so she posed the question. “Well, what do you think of her now?”
Nathan knew Jess was probing into his feelings for Tori for a particular reason. He and Jess had developed a relationship that they hadn’t had any real time to discuss. It was more emotional than anything. He was attracted to her personality, her candor, and her character in general. He enjoyed her company immensely; in fact, this was probably the first time he was able to think about a serious relationship with Jess. Tori wasn’t who she used to be. She seemed reckless, almost as if she placed no real value on her own life. She seemed to live for one purpose: revenge.
What will she be like after she avenges herself? Will she be too broken to repair? Will she ever be the old Tori I used to know and had a major crush on? These were the questions Nathan asked himself.
“I think she’s an asset to the team,” he replied. “But not when she runs off like this.” He paused for a moment to look at Denny. He wasn’t blind to the way Denny had been looking at Tori. He thought this would be as good an opportunity as any to declare his feelings to Jess.
“I choose you, Jess,” Nathan said, looking at Denny. When Denny made eye contact with him, he knew there was an understanding between the two best friends.
Jess caught the body language. She was just as good at reading paralanguage as Nathan was, maybe more so. She smiled at Nathan, then looked away.
“Where is she?” Jess asked.
Tori returned about that time and said, “Hey, guys, we got a problem.”
CHAPTER VI
Midnight, December 16, 2032
The Outskirts of Hot Springs, South Dakota
Lieutenant Colonel Cox was hunkered down behind a tree overlooking the town. He still had Ryan Lee by the collar as if to solidify his control over his whereabouts. He was down to seventy men. The weapons company Marines had been located by enemy forces and engaged in combat. They were overwhelmed and forced to retreat. They returned to their original assignment, which was undisclosed, and waited to hear from command.
Cox was feeling tremendous loss and was overwhelmed with a sense of incompetence and was completely dismayed over the events that had unfolded, ultimately costing him the lives of one hundred forty men. He had no radiomen among the survivors and was unable to make contact with any other possible survivors from the supporting weapons company.
“Now you’re going to tell me exactly what their plans are,” Cox said to Lee with a grizzled voice. He spoke through his gnashing teeth as a man on the brink of losing his military bearing.
The infantry units assigned to Cox were scattered across the area. Many of them regrouped and returned to their initial undisclosed location. Many of the battalion leaders knew they were supposed to regroup at the Super Stallions. When they had made it back to their location, they discovered that the Super Stallions were gone. Unknown to most, the commandant had called back the choppers at news of the two large incoming UN regiments; they were safely evacuated, despite Cox’s failure to secure them.
“They told us to march to Hot Springs, meet up with the scout party, and await further instructions,” Lee answered.
“Tell me what you know about the 21st.”
“The 21st?”
“Don’t play coy with me, traitor,” Cox said, pulling his 9mm from its holster and pressing it into Lee’s temple.
“I swear to you, I don’t know anything about the 21st. Is that some kind of date or something?”
“You’re right, you don’t know anything, and you’re useless to me.”
Cox was about to pull the trigger, but hesitated. He remembered that a gunshot would give away his position in the darkness.
“I’m not useless, sir. I can help.”
“How’s that?” Cox’s attention was now grabbed. “You finally have something of use to me, then?”
“I’m in full UN military gear. I can get you comm gear.”
Cox knew the idea was a good one. Not knowing the placement of the enemy units put him at a distinct disadvantage, but having the ability to communicate an evac of what was left of his troops was a definite improvement over their current condition.
“What do you propose?” Cox asked.
“First of all, I want you to trust me. I followed you up the hill. I was given to that UN unit. I was volunteered by my commander, and it was against my will. I got it because I was the boot, the newbie, nobody else would go, so they made me. Now I’m back where I belong. Please trust me to be an American again.”
Cox looked into the eyes of Lee. His face was lit up by nothing more than moonlight, but there was something in his voice that made him want to trust Lee.
Lee could see Cox was trying to analyze the problem and come up with an answer to his plea, so he added one final sentence before relenting to Cox. “Please! I never renounced my status as a patriot. You know what happens to deserters.”
Cox let go of his collar and put his 9mm away. “What’s your plan, scrub? Just waltz in?”
“Precisely,” he answered before he stood up and headed towards town.
A Previously Undisclosed Location Near Provo, South Dakota
Hidden in the canyons ten miles southwest of Hot Springs, General John James had regrouped the 21st Marines. The reason for being parsed to begin with was the lack of knowledge from where the inevitable attack would be coming. Now that they had resources in NORAD, they were able to predict the incoming attack, but not before it almost wiped out Cox’s battalion. It was John who had failed to contact Howard regarding the impending attack, but it was Cox’s unit that paid the price. A few weapons company Marines with their crew-served weapons made it back in time to tell their story to the g
eneral. He was disheartened by the loss and sent out a Recon unit to locate any survivors.
The rest of the 21st Marines were gathered together in a regiment formation to listen to their general speak. Without a microphone it was difficult to hear every detail. His voice echoed off the canyon walls, causing his speech to reach the ears of most of the men, but the volume was less than superb.
“Gentlemen, today we suffered the loss of life. I would like to tell you that it was an overwhelming victory on our part, but that would be most deceptive. We had a timespan of about forty minutes to take action on reports of two large incoming enemy regiments. Instead of using that time to call in Lieutenant Colonels Cox and Howard, I called in the howitzers and positioned some forward observers to call in artillery. Cox had been ordered to destroy an advanced party of fighters and to join Lieutenant Colonel Howard, but he remained at the initial point of contact and was met with heavy firepower; a few survived. We have not heard from Cox, and we have coordinated a search and rescue op with Colonel Buchanan’s Recon Marines. I have also sent Recons into the belly of the beast. They will provide to us a sitrep.
“In the meantime, I expect each of you to conduct a battle-rattle check on one another to make sure we maintain absolute silence for the upcoming mission. We can expect heavy resistance, but if we succeed, and we will succeed, we will have delivered a fatal blow to our unwelcomed invaders.
“We have considered the option of calling down fire on the Hot Springs area, but concluded that the loss of friendlies, despite the utter annihilation of the enemy, is not a standard we want to raise in this new world, where liberty was born.
“And so, when I dismiss you, you can stand down, collect yourselves, and your individual company commanders will give you the situation report as soon as we hear back from Buchanan’s men.”
Buchanan had already sent several of his reconnaissance Marines into the vicinity of Hot Springs to access and gather intelligence on the enemy. Soon he would be leading an attack on the enemy. Excitement filled the air and his Marines were ready to get back into the fight, but Buchanan was worried that the 21st had lost the element of surprise. The blue hats knew the Marines were aware of their presence and maybe even setting up a counteroffensive of their own, a possible trap that Buchanan wanted to spring, but not at the cost of more lives.
Ten Miles Northeast
Recon platoon was creeping silently through the wooded area surrounding Hot Springs. The area was full of cliffs, hills, forested areas, and flatlands. Their sophisticated forward-looking infrared goggles gave them the edge in nighttime operations.
The Chinese had stopped supplying the UN with the necessary technology it needed to overcome the Americans because of an ongoing investigation into the death of Ambassador Pao. A death orchestrated by none other than Executive Commander Abdul Muhaimin. While direct evidence against the executive commander was shortcoming, evidence pointed to a group he had very tight associations with in the past: the Black Death, a unit from his jihadi days. They were the most feared unit involved in the jihadist wars. The members of the group had sworn eternal allegiance to Muhaimin. To betray his commands meant giving up their place in paradise. That was a thought nobody wanted to dwell on.
The Marines were tightly wrapped in black matte body suits that didn’t reflect light. With proper training they were able to move through the darkness and look like nothing more than shadows.
The UN had posted a few men in these elevated positions to maintain a visual over the area. The Recon platoon was divided into squads, each with the same goal: to collect intelligence on the enemy camp. Their call sign was Tango Side, because they were being assigned to monitor from the terrorist side of the situation.
From what they could see, the enemy had placed the city in a state of martial law. After the Flip, Hot Springs went without electricity, but refused to fall in line with the mandatory RFID chipping and the curfews. The government’s hand rarely reached out this far into the desolate parts of America. When it did, they would cut it off and prove to be too much of a nuisance to worry about. The way the administration saw it, they would soon starve and beg to be integrated into the new world order. Many constituents did, but many did not. With thousands of UN troops now at their door, they had no choice but to fall in line.
Random shots were heard from the city. Occasionally, the Recons would see a civilian brought out into the streets and executed with a bullet to the back of the head. There were a few groups of civilians that had been rounded up like cattle, slaughtered, and put on an open display for the town to see. Bodies littered the streets, and some dead were hanging from old power poles as if to act out crucifixions.
The Recons took many notes on their comings and goings, including maps of where they had their vehicles and gear staged and what types of crew-served weapons they had.
One Marine was scanning a nearby area of the wilderness when he noticed several dozen men lying prone, overlooking the town. Their bodies showed up as heat sources in his FLIR goggles (forward-looking infrared). It didn’t make sense to the Marine, so he reported it to the rest of his platoon. Closing in on the warm bodies were a pair of armed UN soldiers, one of them had a radio on his back. They were patrolling the area but seemed unaware of the group of people lying prone in the woods.
Another squad of Recon Marines were near the area that was reported to contain the warm bodies, so they located the enemy soldiers and crept silently into position behind them. Moving carefully through the woods, they stepped as the soldiers stepped until they were able to grab the soldiers and stab them through the throat, rendering them unable to call for help. The stabs to the throat were followed up with cuts to the jugular and carotid veins. The men went limp fast and were lowered to the ground silently. Their weapons were taken, as was their radio. The only sounds that were left were the pine and cedar tree needles rustling in the wind.
Hell Canyon, Ten Miles Southwest of Hot Springs
While Buchanan was pondering the situation, John James walked up to him and patted him on the back.
“Everything okay with you, Colonel?”
“As good as it can be, sir. I was just wondering if maybe we shouldn’t reconsider shelling Hot Springs.”
“Charles, you know it’s full of civilians.”
“I do. That thought weighs heavily on me. I’m finding myself in a position where I’m placing a value on human life. On one hand we have civilians, and on the other we have Marines. I look at my civilians and I see a group of men that are making a contribution to the cause …”
Buchanan was speaking of some of the men he had ventured across the US with in the past months. They had fought by his side and proven to be assets.
“But when I think of Hot Springs, I see men and women that are hindering our progress towards a greater objective.”
Buchanan turned and faced John to make his final point.
“This thing is bigger than Hot Springs, sir. It’s bigger than all of us. We can’t spare another Marine. What happened today was nothing short of a catastrophe, and it may have crippled some morale. We have no idea how many more UN troops are coming; they could be limitless. They’re being supplied by the world, sir. The world is sending its troops to destroy us, and we’re worried about a few hundred civies?”
Civies was a derogatory term used to describe people who were not in the military. Buchanan’s point was received, but John’s answer cemented the plan.
“Then we better save the artillery for a bigger fish, Charles.”
General James walked away, leaving Buchanan alone with his thoughts once again. That was, until his radio called out to him.
“Bravo One from Tango Side, come in. Over.”
Buchanan grabbed the radio mic and held it to his mouth.
“Tango Side, this is Bravo One. Over.”
“Bravo One, we are in position and have recovered friendlies. I repeat, we have recovered friendlies. Over.”
The heat signatures that the Marin
es had picked up in their FLIRs were of Cox and his men.
“Roger that,” Buchanan said into his mic. “Bring them home. Over.”
Buchanan was excited to hear that Cox had not died, but at the same time, he was still disputing with himself why John wouldn’t just obliterate the UN armies where they were standing and effectuate an end to this chapter of their story. Deep in his own thought process, he was contemplating the possibilities of defying a direct order from John. Given the conditions, he wasn’t sure it would be a wise move to openly defy the general. He was deeply frustrated at his decision, but conceded to the plan.
The District
Executive Commander Abdul Muhaimin began buttoning his white shirt from the top down. He was looking in the mirror and admiring his own complexion. His beard was perfectly trimmed, and he was happy with what he saw. In the bed off to his left was the unwilling concubine he was dining with earlier; her body was lying lifeless. It was too late to be receiving phone calls, even urgent ones, at this time of night, but this was a priority one call direct from the Situation Room. Calls from there meant serious issues needed to be dealt with. After one last look into the mirror to make sure his hair was perfect, he grabbed his cell phone and left.
Moments later Muhaimin was walking into the Situation Room.
“What is it?” he asked the captain that was supervising the evening shift.
“Sir, we have been receiving word from various units across the Midwestern and eastern regions that power is being restored. In addition to this, most of the Human Handling Centers have been attacked by resistance fighters.”
“Do you have any ID on these groups? Who’s leading them? Anything of any use at all?”
“Sir, with the Utah Data Center still without power, we simply do not possess the capabilities of identifying the attackers. However, I am confident they are American veterans.”
“What about the Black Hills operation in Region Seven?”
“They have pitched a staging point at Hot Springs, as they were commanded, and are waiting for daylight hours to make their assault.”
Whiskey Black Book Set: The Complete Tyrant Series (Box Set 1) Page 64
