“Bingo.” Griggs gave her a dry, humorless smile.
“Why can’t the subs blow it up?” Anton asked.
“Missiles aren’t finite,” Spill replied. “And the military doesn’t have a lot of them. The missiles on the subs are being saved to defend the coastline in case more Soviet ships come our way.”
“What about the Central Valley?” Cassie asked. “How are you going to protect that farmland from colonization? The land is wide open.”
Griggs raised a condescending eyebrow at her. “You’re a smart one. Let me guess, captain of the chess club?”
He said it sarcastically as he took in her chessboard, but his derision faded when he saw the expressions around him.
“The Central Valley isn’t our mission,” Spill said. “That’s been assigned to another group. Our mission is the Luma Bridge.”
“You need us to help you take it out,” Leo said.
“Our commanding officer thought you were trained professionals.” Spill grimaced. “But those are our orders. Coordinate an attack with the Snipers and take out the Luma Bridge.”
“Wait a sec.” Anton hustled over to the bookcase and pulled out Nonna’s copy of The Anarchist’s Cookbook. “There’s a whole section in here on blowing up bridges.” He slapped the book down on the coffee table.
Griggs and Spill looked nonplussed.
“Where did you guys get that?” Griggs asked.
Without looking up from the book, Anton jerked his thumb in Nonna’s direction. “Ask my grandma. It’s hers.”
When the two soldiers turned surprised expressions in Nonna’s direction, she gave them a flat stare. “My village barely survived Hitler,” she said. “I never intended to be caught empty-handed if the Nazis came here. Turns out it pays to be prepared.”
“I’ll say.” Spill crouched down eagerly beside Anton. “Can I see?” He leaned in beside Anton, studying the pages.
“Here.” Anton stabbed his finger at a page in the Cookbook. “The Luma bridge is a truss bridge. This shows us exactly where to place the bombs to disable the bridge.”
“There are guards on the bridge,” Spill said. “We’re going to have to take them out before we can blow up the bridge.”
“We can handle the guards, no problem. Let me see the book.” Bruce elbowed his way forward. So did everyone else, all trying to see the book at once.
Cassie stayed where she was, turning her attention to her chessboard so she could think more clearly. She had just castled the black king on the queen’s side when Leo sat down next to her.
“Cassie?”
She didn’t look up. “Yeah?”
“What’s your take on the situation?”
Her fingers moved swiftly over the board as she played. Black pawn to f2. “They’re right. We have to blow up the Luma Bridge. It’s the logical move.” White pawn to c6.
“Blowing up the bridge isn’t the question,” Leo replied. “That’s a given. It’s the trip to Luma I’m worried about. How are we supposed to get there? Russians are everywhere. You saw how they blew that plane to smithereens. If they catch us on the road, we could all be turned over to the KGB.”
White queen to f7. Checkmate. Cassie wrinkled her nose as she studied the board. This was not her most elegant game. She sighed and began resetting the board for another round.
Uneasy glances went around the room. Cassie was pretty sure everyone would prefer taking a bullet over being captured by the KGB.
Leo’s question had already been on her mind before he asked it. She worked through the options in her head.
a) They could walk. This was only a good idea if they wanted to spend the next two weeks getting to Luma. She quickly crossed this off her mental list.
b) They could take a car. This was only a viable option if they thought luck was on their side. The last thing Cassie wanted to rely on was luck. People who relied on luck lost chess games. Winning a game happened with tactics and strategy. You always had to be thinking three to five moves ahead and have contingency plans. She crossed this off the mental list, too.
c) They could take the horses and bikes. This wasn’t a bad option. Both forms of transportation had served them well so far. Then again, they’d never gone more than ten or fifteen miles. Luma was a solid forty miles away. They could run into a lot of trouble over the course of forty miles.
d) There was one more option. She was almost embarrassed to say it out loud, but it was the best she’d come up with in the last few minutes.
“We take the river,” she said.
“The river?” Anton frowned at her. “How do you figure?”
“The Russian River is less than a mile from here.” How ironic that the local river had been named the Russian River. “It’s unlikely the river is being patrolled, but we can go at night just in case. The water empties into the Pacific Ocean ten or so miles north of Luma. We’ll ride the river south as far as we can, then find bikes or a car to get us the rest of the way to the bridge.”
“You want to swim all that way?” Lena frowned at her. “The river isn’t that deep, but that’s still a long way to swim.”
Cassie shook her head. “No, we don’t swim. We steal kayaks from the Adventure Depot. We paddle down the Russian River.”
The Adventure Depot was a small shop in Westville that sat on the Russian River. It rented canoes, kayaks, and inner tubes. Leo’s parents had taken the family paddling down the river a few times over the years.
Leo squeezed Cassie’s shoulder. “It’s a good plan,” he said. “We take a team to the river, then take the back roads to Luma and blow up the bridge.”
“It’s not just blowing up the bridge.” Cassie’s mouth went dry, her heart beating a little too fast in her chest. She swallowed against the discomfort of what had to be said next. “We have to blow up the busses.”
The impact of those words changed something inside her. She felt a piece of her heart shrivel up and die. Is this what war did to people?
She wasn’t the only one impacted by her statement. She saw it in the eyes of everyone around her.
They knew what she was saying. She wasn’t just saying they had to blow up busses full of armed soldiers. That was only part of it. The busses headed their way also had families on them. Women, children. Maybe even grandparents.
It was their only move. You couldn’t win a game of chess if you let your opponent quadruple the number of pieces on the board. Sure, they could hamstring the supply line. They could make it really difficult for the Soviets to get in and out of West County.
But in the end, that would only be an inconvenience. The busses would still come. The farmland of this area was still a prime target. The only way to protect it was to get rid of the invaders who wanted to take it from them. It would be checkmate for the Snipers and everyone else in West County if they did any less.
“The girl is right,” Griggs said. His face was grim, but she thought she saw a glimmer of respect in his eyes. “We have to take out the bridge when the busses are on them. Spill and I each have enough C-4 to rig the bridge.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” Tate said. “No one said war is pretty.”
“It’s our duty to protect our home no matter the cost,” Leo said reluctantly. “Cassie is right. We have to rig the bridge and blow it when the busses arrive. We have to make sure there are no invaders left to come to West County. Any volunteers?”
Everyone except Stephenson and Nonna raised their hands.
“Dal, you and Lena have to stay here,” Leo said. “The broadcasts are too important. You guys need to keep those up no matter what. Amanda, you’ve been going on their missions. I want the three of you to stay together.”
Leo went around the room, pointing as he went. “Anton. Bruce. Tate. All of you are going to Luma.” He reluctantly shifted his gaze to Cassie and Jennifer.
He wanted her to stay behind. Cassie saw it in his eyes. He wanted to protect her.
Jennifer’s mouth opened angrily. Fire was in her eyes.
>
Cassie cut her off with a small shake of her head. To Leo, she said, “Did you know the queen used to be one of the weakest pieces on the chessboard?”
The question caught him off guard. “What?”
“The queen used the be one of the weakest players on the board,” Cassie repeated. “She used to be like the king. She could only move one square at a time. The game changed in the fifteenth century after queens like Eleanor of Aquitaine came into power. People realized queens had power in their own right.” She idly picked the black queen up off the board, turning it between her fingers. “She’s the most powerful piece in the game now. It can be hard to win a game without the queen.”
Her eyes met Leo’s. She saw the fear in them. He just wanted to protect her. That knowledge warmed her all the way down to her toes.
But this was war. She couldn’t afford to be sidelined just because a boy cared about her. They all had to do their part.
“No one can assess a situation like Cassie.” Jennifer moved to stand behind her. “She came up with the major plays for the Hillsberg attack. She just came up with the best way to infiltrate Luma while everyone else was standing around.”
Cassie wasn’t a queen. She knew that. At best, she was a bishop, an advisor to the king. But bishops were valuable players in their own right.
“You really don’t want to be on Jennifer’s bad side in battle,” Anton said. “We all know she fights like a wildcat.”
Cassie smiled up at her sister. Jennifer was the queen. Everyone knew it. She was strong and fierce and fearless, like a real queen. She was every bit the warrior that Eleanor of Aquitaine had been.
Leo broke eye contact, running a hand through his hair. When he spoke, his eyes were full of misgiving. “You guys are both on the team. We need you.”
Chapter 31
Change of Plans
THE NEXT MORNING AFTER breakfast, Leo found himself standing hand in hand with Cassie. Ever since returning with the American soldiers yesterday, he hadn’t strayed far from her side. They’d even fallen asleep in the living room last night, cocooned together on the worn leather sofa under a small throw blanket. Nonna had scolded them, but Leo had just shrugged it off.
Now they stood with the rest of the Snipers on the backside of the cabin. Spill carved the name of the soldier they’d lost yesterday into their Not Forgotten wall. He’d been shot and killed by a KGB agent.
As had become customary, Nonna brought her small tray with shot glasses and a grappa bottle. It was a fresh bottle. Even though they only drank to remember their fallen, they were going through the supply of liquor quickly.
Lieutenant Charles Higgins. Spill carved his name out beneath Jim’s.
Griggs sidled up beside Leo. “I’m sorry about how I reacted to you guys yesterday,” he said. “I was an ass. I’m sorry for your losses.”
“Apology accepted,” Leo said. “We weren’t what you expected.”
“No.” Griggs’s eyes were fixed on the names carved into the back of the cabin. Cassie realized that to Griggs, the wall of Not Forgotten gave legitimacy to the Snipers. It was proof they weren’t just a pack of brainless kids playing with guns.
“Did you guys hear that?” From the other side of the semi-circle, Tate straightened.
Leo strained his ears. All he could hear was the whine of the cicadas in a nearby tree.
“I just hear the bugs,” Anton said.
“I think it’s a car.” Tate took off, sprinting for the overlook that provided them with a view of the country road that snaked below Pole Mountain.
Shit. Leo took off after him. He took the long way, dashing into the house to get the binoculars.
By the time he got to the overlook, which was nothing more than a small field of boulders perched on the side of Pole Mountain, everyone else was there. They watched as several cars drove down the long dirt road that led away from the Craig farmhouse.
Tate snatched the binoculars from Leo. “God dammit,” he roared. “Those fuckers have Mom and Dad.” He flung the binoculars to the ground and let loose a wordless scream of frustration. “Fuck! I tried to warn him. The idiot wouldn’t listen.”
It was a measure of the situation that Nonna did not react to Tate’s use of foul language.
Tate stormed off. Anton and Bruce followed him back to the house.
Leo picked up the binoculars. They were scratched on one side but thankfully intact. He raised them to his eyes.
The sight below made him want to vomit. There were three jeeps down there, all of them crammed with Soviets.
In the middle jeep sat Mr. and Mrs. Craig, distinct in their dirty farm coveralls.
The Soviets had come for them. Leo felt sick. He was too far away to do anything about it. Even if they grabbed the truck, the Russians would be long gone by the time they got to the bottom of Pole Mountain.
Tate stormed back out of the cabin. On his heels were Anton and Bruce. Tate looked like he was planning to singlehandedly take on the Russian army. He was loaded down with machine guns and bombs.
“I’m going to get Mom and Dad,” he growled.
“Me and Bruce are going with him,” Anton said. The two former varsity football players were similarly loaded down with firearms.
Leo’s mouth tightened. This wasn’t good. He needed these guys for the Luma mission.
What would he do if that was his family down there? He sure as hell wouldn’t give a flying fuck about the Luma Bridge.
Leo felt his heart constrict with empathy for his friend, but he tamped it down. Empathy didn’t apply to war. They had to think strategically, like Cassie did. Like when she pointed out they had to blow up the busses filled with families of invaders.
He put a hand on Tate’s shoulder. “Tate, there’s nothing you can do for them.”
Tate shook him off angrily. “They’re my parents, Leo. What would you do if that were your dad down there with the KGB? What if it were Anton or Lena?”
“You don’t know where they’re being taken.” Leo was surprised by how level his voice was. “Even if by some miracle you find them, what can you do? They’ll be under Soviet lock and key. At best, it will be a suicide mission. At worst, you’ll get yourself captured. The best thing you can do is honor their sacrifice and carry out our next mission. Luma Bridge is our priority.”
“Leo, you’re being a complete ass,” Anton said angrily. “Those are his parents—”
Leo rounded on him. “Dad sacrificed himself so Dal and Lena could escape from Rossi. He did what had to be done.” He gave Tate and Anton hard looks. He hated himself for his next words, but they had to be said. “This is war. Sacrifices must be made.”
Tate went rigid with fury. “Fuck you, Leo.”
Leo met him glare for glare. “I’m sorry about your parents, man. I really am. But I won’t let you throw yourself away on a pointless mission.”
“You won’t let me? Since when are you the boss of me, Leo Cecchino?” Tate stormed off around the back of the cabin, swearing as he went.
“I don’t even know you right now,” Anton said. He stormed off after Tate.
Bruce hung back. “This fucking sucks.” His face was a mixture of frustration and resignation.
Lena took a step after Anton and Tate, but Leo put an arm out to stop her. “Let them cool off.”
She pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly. Leo caught Spill and Griggs looking at him. To his surprise, they gave him nods of respect. Irony turned his mouth sour.
“Everyone inside,” Leo said. “We need to pack for Luma. The priority is weapons and food.”
They clomped up the steps of the cabin, a grim air hanging over everyone. They were nearly all inside when the whinny of a horse cut through the clearing.
Leo jerked around in time to see Stealth and Thunder burst out of the trees. Anton and Tate leaned low across the horses, riding like hell for the road.
“Anton!” Leo bellowed.
His little brother never looked up. He was gone in the
blink of an eye, disappearing with Tate down the steep road that led away from Pole Mountain. Leo felt all the oxygen leave his body. He gripped the porch railing to keep himself upright.
“Anton,” Lena screamed, racing out of the cabin.
Dal grabbed her. She struggled in his arms, but he held her right. “They’re gone, Lena.”
“We have to stop them!” Tears ran down Lena’s face.
The sight of his sister’s devastated face nearly bent Leo in two. He shoved it down and faced her.
“Anton and Tate made their decision,” he said flatly.
“We have to stop them,” Lena repeated.
“We’ll never catch them. They have the fastest of the horses.” The stocky old mare would never be able to catch the stallions. Even if she could, what then? Short of shooting Tate and Anton, there was nothing Leo could do to stop them. “They made their choice.”
He turned back to the cabin, forcing thoughts of Anton and Tate from his mind. Nonna briefly met his gaze as he marched inside. Her eyes were pinched with grief, but he saw steel in the set of her jaw.
“I’ll warm up the leftover stew,” was all she said.
Leo stood in front of the bookcase as everyone shuffled quietly back into the cabin. Leo waited for them all to gather around him.
“The mission is still on,” he said. “We leave for Luma at dusk. Spill. Griggs. Show us what you brought with you from the plane crash. We need to assess our weapons and figure out what we’re taking to the bridge.”
Spill and Griggs wordlessly grabbed their packs and opened them up in front of the fireplace. When they glanced up at Leo, he saw something different in their eyes. They didn’t look at him with reluctant acceptance. They looked at him the way his players used to look look at him on the football field; they looked at him with the silent expectation for him to lead. Everyone here did.
Is this what it took to win respect in war time? A person had to turn his back on family and friends to be a true leader?
Leo didn’t like the person he was becoming, but was helpless to stop it.
Chapter 32
Zommunist Invasion | Book 2 | Snipers Page 17
