The Blastlands Saga

by DK Williamson

  “We fell back into that area when things went to hell during the attack the other day,” Ranger Daley said. “It’s very defensible, especially against men on horseback.”

  “We have rain coming in tonight, if my old leg wound is any indication,” said Sergeant Wright. “If those creeks swell up and we can draw raiders in there...”

  “They’ll have a devil of a time getting out when the shooting starts,” Mike Pitts said.

  “This could work, Jack,” Sergeant Norman said looking at the map and nodding his head. “We’ll need to put together numbers, a timetable, and some other stuff. We should get Captain Briscoe on board. Barbara, you know what we need to get this in order, right?”

  “Already on it, Sergeant. It will take a couple of hours to put this together, so it might be wise for Ranger Traipse to go catch a nap seeing how he was up all night,” she said. She looked at Jack. “We’ll have this ready for you, and you need to be ready to deliver it to Commander Straily.”

  . . . . .

  A few hours later Jack entered the operations center. In the room were a dozen or so Rangers, with Commander Straily seated at the map table. Jack walked to the opposite side of the table from the commander and set his materials in front of him.

  Straily looked up at Jack. “You got something? Let’s see it.”

  As Jack rolled out the map, Straily said, “Some of the Rangers here say you can shoot, son. That true?”

  “I’m not your son, Commander,” Jack said with a harsh look. “Hardin called me ‘son’ because he was my father. Art sometimes calls me ‘son’ as a term of endearment. You’re simply patronizing me and I don’t like it. And yeah, I can shoot.”

  Straily smirked. “Patronize? Is that what I was doing? What would you do if I patronized you again?”

  “Likely as not, I’d punch you square in the face.”

  “Do you know what these Rangers,” he said as he gestured at the other Rangers in the room, “would do if you punched me?”

  “Give me a pat on the back and some ice for my hand I expect.”

  Straily burst out laughing, slapping his hand on the table. “You may just be right about that. Let’s see this plan of yours.”

  Jack described the plan, which was very much as originally conceived.

  Three separate six-man Ranger teams would infiltrate raider controlled territory, crossing the Washita River southwest of Fort Washita and move to the three likely sites where Joe Crow might be located. The Rangers would do this on the day prior to the diversionary attack. By taking advantage of the diversion near Tishomingo it was hoped that if one of the teams were able to identify Joe Crow, they could eliminate him. Whether they were successful or not, they would only have a short period of time to operate before they would be forced to pull out before the main raider forces returned.

  Commander Straily rubbed his chin as he looked at the map. “Interesting, Traipse. You figure you’re going to take part in this soiree?”

  “Yes. If Rangers are going into harm’s way because of me I ought to be one of them.”

  “I agree. In fact, you are going to be made an acting sergeant and head up this thing. I got a deal for you.”

  “Another one of your ‘favor for a favor’ deals, Commander?”

  “That’s right. You bring me Crow’s head, and I’ll make that promotion permanent. How’s that?”

  “I don’t care about that. I’ll make you a counteroffer. I want to recover the documents my father hid, then take a team into the Blastlands and look into what TGG and rads are up to.”

  “This thing your pa dug up. Okay, deal.”

  “Not so fast, Commander. There’s more.”

  “Don’t push it, Traipse,” the commander said. He stared at Jack for a few moments then said, “Let’s hear it.”

  “One, I want the letter my father left for Tess. My mother is not part of this, and that letter belongs to her. Two, I want Jennifer Lewis permanently assigned to Geneva along with me. Three, if killing Joe Crow ends this mess, I want Rangers Jim Barstow, Thomas Young, and Ralph Sikes to be offered assignments in Geneva if they wish. They were supposed to be assigned there after training.”

  “All right, Traipse. That’s a pretty full plate, but I’ll serve it up if I get Crow’s head. If this thing goes to shit—”

  “I’ll likely be dead,” Jack interrupted.

  “Yes, and if not you’ll wish you were.”

  “Fair enough. Do I get to pick the Rangers for the three infiltration teams?”

  “Since you’re in charge, yes. A sergeant leads each team, I insist on that, and you’ll coordinate with Captain Briscoe, who will command the ambush diversion,” the commander said, leaning back in his chair.

  “Do you know how many Rangers have tried to bring Joe Crow in over the years, Traipse? I sure don’t, but it’s a long list. A lot of us came close, but he always slipped the noose. Best horseman I ever saw. Can get a horse to do damn near anything. I was face-to-face with him ten or twelve years ago, but couldn’t bag him. We put together a special team a few years ago just to catch him. Chased him for two months and never caught him. Cunning bastard. You need to understand what kind of man you’re going after.”

  “We’re not looking to bring him in alive, Commander.”

  “True enough, just see to it you bring in his head, the rest of him can rot for all I care. On a pike or a plate, just bring me his head.”

  Jack left the building and walked up the street where most of the people who were part of the planning session were waiting. Jack told them what Straily had said, and the Rangers began to put the plan into action.

  Sergeants Norman and Wright had put together a list of Rangers they hoped might volunteer to be on the three six-person teams infiltrating Cuervo controlled territory. Over half the people on the list did volunteer, but the teams needed six more Rangers to fill up the rosters, so a call for volunteers was put out to Ranger troops that could spare some personnel for the mission.

  Among the names of volunteers was a familiar one to Jack, Thomas Young. Jack recommended that Thomas be added to the roster, but left the rest of the selections to Norman and Wright.

  By the next morning all of the Rangers who would make up the infiltration teams were present. As they gathered for a briefing, Jack and Thomas talked.

  “Jack! How did you end up here?”

  “A long story, basically I got drafted.”

  “Good to see you, Jack. You look like crap though,” he joked.

  Jack laughed. “Thanks, Tom, I’ve had a rough week.”

  “We heard. You discovered a new alien and killed it, then snuck into Kings Town, and now you are going after Crow. That’s a full week, my friend.”

  “Half of that isn’t true,” he said shaking his head. “Never mind me. How did you make out in the Tishomingo attack? What happened with Jim Barstow and Ralph Sikes?”

  “We are all fine, but what a disaster. Jim was part of the group that went in to try and relieve one of the surrounded units. Jen was in that group too. They got surrounded again, but we got them out. Ralph has been taking crap from some for his missing hand, but he’s shut most of them up. He’s doing great. A good guy to have with you in a scrape,” he said with a nod.

  “Jim, Ralph, and I are in the same troop. We all wanted to volunteer for the infiltration teams, but our sergeant said only one of us could, so we drew lots. I won,” he said with a grin and a pump of his fist.

  Jack smiled. “Still competitive I see.”

  “Yes, but I’m keeping it in line. The old me would have taunted those guys. Art’s talk with me stuck. Speaking of Art, you still collecting Artisms?”

  Jack laughed. “Sean and I have been jotting them down.”

  “Good. I miss Art, Sean too.”

  “Maybe you’ll get sent back to Geneva when this thing is over,” Jack replied.

  “That would be nice. I like it up there.”

  . . . . .

  By mid morning, the Rangers
had been assigned to their respective teams, and each team leader gave a briefing on their assignments. The teams were:

  Team 1. SGT Wright, Anne Anders, Hal Daley, Al Dunn, Ted Barnes, and Jim Tanner

  Team 2. SGT Norman, Thomas Young, Beth Cooper, Fred Smits, John McKay, and Ted Presley

  Team 3. SGT(acting) Traipse, Stan Dando, Will Dando, Mike Pitts, Tig Morris, and Jim Wells

  Team 1 was to go to the southernmost point, about one and a half miles due west of the Rangers crossing point on the Washita River. Team 2 was to go to a point about two miles northwest of Team 1, while Team 3 would be another mile northwest of Team 2.

  The teams were to cross the river by boat at dusk, then slowly navigate their way to their points in the dark if possible. If need be, they would wait until dawn and complete their infiltration in the light of early morning.

  The teams would have until mid afternoon to locate Joe Crow. By then, the feint at Tishomingo would be underway. It was decided that the Ranger teams would need to start moving back to the river crossing no later than thirty minutes after the feint began to avoid getting caught by returning raiders, whether or not Joe Crow had been eliminated by one of the Ranger teams.

  Each Ranger team would be equipped with a TROG, as would several elements of the large ambush force. Each team was to have at least two rifles suitable for long-range work. Team 2 was equipped with one M60 machine gun, as the point they were to cover consisted of a large pasture area and buildings and it was feared there may be a large number of raiders present at the site. The extra firepower might be needed.

  By mid afternoon the infiltration teams were near their crossing point on the Washita River. The sprinkles of rain that came and went through the day had turned into a light, but steady rain.

  “Rain is good. The raiders will want to hunker down and the sound of the rain will cover any noise we might make. Both of those are factors in our favor,” commented Sergeant Norman.

  As dusk approached, the Rangers made their way near the banks of the river to make their crossing. As Jack was loading his gear into a boat, Anne Anders spoke with him, “You be careful, Jack. You’re going to be the farthest team from the river, so don’t be doing anything foolish.”

  “I’m always careful, Anne.”

  “Sodomizing an alien with a shotgun is not being careful, Jack.”

  Jack opened his mouth to speak, then stopped and shook his head. “That isn’t what happened, besides, it wasn’t by choice.”

  “Still, you watch your tail out there,” she said sincerely.

  “We’ll keep an eye on him, Anne,” said Will Dando.

  Anne smiled. “Now I am truly worried. Keep the banter over there to a minimum, Will. We are all going to be deep in raider country.”

  “We know. We’ll save it for when we get back,” Will replied with a mischievous glance at Jack.

  “I should have told the militia in Kings Town to shoot you,” Jack muttered.

  . . . . .

  By the time darkness set in, the Rangers were across the river and on their way to their objectives. Sergeant Norman and Jack led their teams northwest on more or less parallel courses. Team 1 was in position about two hours after the Rangers crossed the river. Team 2 reached their objective about two hours after Team 1, and Jack’s team reached their point an hour later.

  Shortly after dawn, all three teams were able to confirm by sight that they were in the correct locations. The light rain turned into a steady drizzle as the Rangers performed communications checks with one another, with Captain Briscoe’s force, and the Ranger headquarters in Mead, the latter at the edge of Team 3’s broadcast range.

  Captain Briscoe told them his force was dug in and ready to go on schedule. If only Joe Crow might cooperate and show himself.

  By early afternoon there was no evidence to confirm Joe Crow’s location, but on the bright side, Sergeant Norman reported very few raiders in sight from his position on a ridge overlooking his team’s target.

  Mid afternoon came with no sign of Joe Crow. Captain Briscoe commenced his part of the operation by sending out Rangers on horseback to make a feint toward Tishomingo.

  Sergeant Norman called Jack over the TROG. “Jack, I’m not seeing any increase in raiders at my position. We can probably stay here longer than planned, but it’s your call, and you’re the most vulnerable team.”

  Jack mulled the situation over in his mind for a few seconds. “Let’s stay longer. If something goes bad with the ambush, we’ll start moving back to the river. Did you hear that, Sergeant Wright?”

  “Roger that, Jack. We’ll keep our spot under observation.”

  Forty minutes later, Captain Briscoe came over the radio, “Infiltration teams, this is Briscoe. The raiders took the bait, but I’m afraid we may have done our job too well. The raiders came riding hell-bent-for-leather right into the ambush and we chewed them bad, and I mean bad. The problem is the fight is all but over. The raiders not caught in the ambush turned north and ran. They left the guys trapped in the ambush to die.”

  “Captain Briscoe, this is Traipse. I don’t think we can complain about that. We have no sign of Crow, so I think it’s time we pull back to the river.”

  “Okay, Jack. I’m sorry we won’t bag Crow, but we hurt the Cuervos terribly today. Maybe we didn’t get everything we’d hoped for, but it’s a good day. Maybe the tide has turned.”

  “True enough. We’ll let you know when we are at the river,” Jack said.

  “Jack, this is Sergeant Wright. We’ll hold position until you two pull back to us. Maybe Crow shows up. There are a few horsemen visible in the pasture, so be watchful.”

  “Will do. Sergeant Norman, I’ll pull my team back to your position, and we can head back together,” Jack said over the radio.

  “Roger that. We’ll be here, Jack,” Sergeant Norman replied.

  Commander Straily will be thrilled, thought Jack.

  Jack gathered his team and told them they were pulling out and going southeast to Team 2’s position. Jack led the team through the trees as the rain began to increase in intensity. As Jack started up a ridge that stood between his team and Team 2, gunfire erupted from the other side of the ridge.

  Will Dando, who was carrying the TROG said, “Sergeant Norman’s team is under attack by horsemen!”

  “Tell him we are less than three hundred yards away and en route,” Jack said moving up the ridge. He led the team on a diagonal course up the incline, hoping to reach the top very near Team 2’s position. As Jack neared the top he could hear the distinctive sound of the M60 firing just over the crest.

  “Jack, Sergeant Norman reports raiders killed the machine gun crew and are using it against his team. He has forty or fifty raiders on horseback closing on his position. They are down the ridge a ways,” Will said over Jack’s shoulder.

  “Okay. Tell him we are going after the MG and to hold his fire so we don’t get tagged. See if Sergeant Wright is headed this way.”

  “Got it, Jack,” Will replied.

  Jack signaled his team to form a line as they neared the crest of the ridge. Once they were in position they moved over the top. The machine gun was less than fifty yards ahead. Jack could see the contorted and inert form of Fred Smits on the ground near the machine gun. Two raiders were at the M60 firing bursts down the ridge to the left. Jack put his sights on the raider operating the machine gun and fired. As he did so, the Rangers alongside him opened fire and in seconds, both raiders lay dead.

  Jack turned to tell Will to call Sergeant Norman, but saw the Ranger was already transmitting so he moved to the machine gun position and saw a line of horsemen approaching the tree line where the remainder of Team 2 were positioned.

  You’ll have a flank shot on them. Wait for the shot, he thought as he watched the horsemen trot forward. Some of the raiders fired from horseback at Team 2. Jack traversed the machine gun to a point in front of the advancing horsemen and waited. Now! Jack fired seven and eight round bursts up the line of
raiders, starting with the closest horseman. It was a slaughter. The horsemen were taken utterly by surprise.

  Some of the raiders panicked and tried to turn and flee, causing them to collide with other riders. Some riders froze, not comprehending the danger they were in. The riders not yet hit or unhorsed inadvertently formed small groups which Jack and the Rangers on the ridge and those below with Sergeant Norman made quick work of.

  Nearby, Stan Dando yelled, “Lookout! To the right. More raiders.”

  Jack turned the machine gun to the right and saw nearly twenty horsemen advancing toward the ridge. He looked at the belt of ammunition that fed into the left side of the weapon and saw there were perhaps twenty rounds left.

  “Take cover, engage them!” Jack yelled. Time your bursts, time your traverse, Jack thought as he aimed at the leftmost rider. Just then at least half the riders began firing at the Rangers on the ridge, their wild fire buzzing in the air. Jack traversed the machine gun to the right, trying to fire bursts into closely bunched riders while ignoring solitary riders, leaving them to his teammates. By the time the machine gun ran dry, more than half the raiders were dead or on the ground and out of the fight. Jack picked up his rifle as his fellow Rangers continued to engage. By the time Jack looked down the ridge only a handful of raiders were left, fleeing to the right. A few wounded raiders writhed in the mud alongside dead and wounded horses.

  “We got wounded!” Mike Pitts yelled. Jack saw Tig Morris holding his left leg above the ankle. Jim Wells lay on the ground motionless, shot through the head.

  “Damn it,” Jack growled. “Anyone else hit?”

  “I have a nick in the arm, but I’m fine,” Stan Dando said.

  “Okay. I’m going to check on Sergeant Norman. Can someone look at Stan’s arm?”

  “I’ll get him when I finish with Tig’s leg,” Mike Pitts replied.

  “Sergeant Wright’s team is held up at a rain-swelled creek, Jack,” Will reported. “There’s a dozen dug in raiders at the bridge. They’re looking for another place to cross.”