by Dennis Elder
“Red in the morning, sailor take warning,” whispered Mark to himself.
Chapter 172: Double Tap
Ivan spent a great deal of the previous evening thinking about how to attack the group across the valley. He finally decided to send two men up the East side of the road, along the ditch to probe for any hidden positions in the East side hills. He spent the last remaining hours of light looking through his binoculars at those hills, but nothing moved.
Now he watched his two men as they moved forward. They were about a hundred yards from the very North end of the flat valley. Beyond that, the freeway rose up sharply up again, cutting through the Northern hills.
Frank positioned himself at the very Western edge of his line. He did so to have a closer line of sight with Mark. Frank did not have a radio and would have to communicate with Mark with hand signals.
As the two men below moved forward, Frank signaled Mark if he wanted him to take the two men out. They were pretty close to his position now.
But Mark knew a probe when he saw one. He knew these men were to be sacrificed in an effort to give away Mark’s team’s positions.
“This guy’s not so dumb,” thought Mark to himself.
Mark gave Frank hand signals to hold his fire. Then he signaled Tyrone, who was on the extreme East end of his group’s defensive line to take them out. Tyrone signed back that he understood.
The closer the two men came to the end of the East side field the more cautious they became. Every once and a while one of them would stick his head up, just above the road, and then pull it back down again. Tyrone thought they looked like a couple of turkeys hiding behind a log. The big man kept the cross hairs on the heads of each man has they brought their heads up and down. But he didn’t think he’d get a chance at both of them. But then both men popped up their heads together.
Tyrone did a double tap. It was something they’d practiced while in Afghanistan. He pulled his trigger twice as fast as they could. The first bullet struck the man square in his forehead. That was the easy shot. But the second tap, that was always the harder shot to make. You had to estimate the distance between the two targets and then just as fast as your first shot got off, you had to move your gun to the next target and pull the trigger again. You never saw the second target through the scope. You just estimated and hoped the second tap struck true.
All of Mark’s guys were pretty good at it. Jake was always the best one at the trick. But Tyrone was a close second.
The two men didn’t raise their heads up again.
Tyrone turned his head to the East to look for Frank. Tyrone hand signaled to Frank that both men were down and out. Frank turn to Mark and sent the same hand signal message.
Tyrone turned back to the South and flipped his gun safety switch back on.
“Still got it,” he said to himself.
Chapter 173: What is rush
Ivan put down his binoculars. Neither of the two men he sent forward had moved since the two shots were heard. The Russian did a quick count in his head of his remaining men.
“We lost three two days ago and now two more today,” he thought to himself. “We’re down to thirty eight now.”
The remaining thirty eight men were all standing along the ridge of the Southern hill and watched as their fellow soldiers were shot down.
Ivan had been intently watching the hills on both sides of the road as his two men approached the end of the field.
“The shots definitely came from the West side of the road,” said Ivan. “They must all be on West side.”
Beaver was standing next to Ivan.
“I think so too,” said Beaver. “I’m pretty sure I saw gun smoke over there.”
“If so, it is good news, yes?” said Ivan as he smiled and brought up his binoculars again, hoping to see something that would help him create a good plan.
“I’m not sure if its good news to lose two more men,” whispered Beaver. “We’re working with a limited supply here.”
“This is true,” said Ivan. “But with their sacrifice, we can now proceed up East side of valley with superior numbers and flank their positions, no?”
“So, can I take the men up that side now?” asked Beaver, with some impatience in his voice.
Ivan paused a moment before he replied.
“Ten of the men will go up the East side after dark,” said Ivan. “However, you will not lead them.”
Ivan’s last command really pissed Beaver off. So, he just turned away and went back to his tent. If he said what he really felt, Ivan might have turned on him.
Ivan noticed that Beaver had walked off in a huff. But the Russian dismissed it and turned back to the watch the valley to the North. Then he began slowly shaking his head from side to side.
“Everyone one is in such hurry to die these days,” said Ivan. “What is rush anyway?”
Several of the men to the West of Ivan heard the conversation between their boss and Beaver. Even though they had finally caught up with the women’s group, they were growing more and more discontent every day. Frankly they were getting tired hearing harsh orders from both Beaver and Ivan. A few of the men discussed riding off in the middle of the night. But their fear of Ivan and that huge hunting knife kept their discord to a minimum.
Chapter 174: Just unlucky
At 3:30 am Ivan sent ten handpicked men forward. They were to move along the road for the first thousand yards and then drop down into the Interstate’s ditch, running parallel to the Northbound lane. This would give them good cover until they could reach the hills on the North end of the valley. They would then climb up into the hills on the East side of the freeway and establish good firing positions.
“This way,” Ivan had told them, “When the sun is up you will have clear shots to will fire down on men, while sparing women.”
It was 4 am now. Ivan’s men had been moving forward for over 30 minutes. Their progress had started to slow significantly. The leader of the ten man unit was called Alvin. Alvin was a little older and certainly more cautious. The column halted again while Alvin tried to see ahead.
The guy standing three back from Alvin shook his head in frustration. He’d had some army training before he went to prison. The start and stop thing that Alvin was doin was all crap. They just needed to keep moving and climb the hill.
“If we keep stoppin like this,” said the man. “Hell, it will be mornin for we know it.”
“Keep it down back there,” whispered Alvin.
“Come on man,” whispered back the man. “Times a wastin. Let’s get moving and up that hill already!”
But Alvin wasn’t interested in what the man had to say. He wanted to stay alive.
“Shut up moron,” whispered Alvin. “You’re gonna get us all killed if ya keep talkin so much. Keep your yap shut.”
Alvin looked up toward to where the North hills should be. But the only thing he could really see was the outline of the high mountains behind them, the stars above providing minimum illumination.
Little did they know but three of the nine members of Mark’s group who were positioned on the East side of the freeway had been watching the men for the last fifteen minutes. Their SmartScopes allowed them to watch the approaching men, via infrared. Frank, Doc and Sam were all tracking the men. They’d been together long enough to know not to shoot until their targets were inside the 40 yard preferred kill box. The other two rules they lived by when communications were difficult were: never shoot until your commanding officer did, and lastly, shoot first, and ask questions later.
Gracie, Susie, Lenny, Pam, William and Caroline were spaced out in between the men with the SmartScopes. But was too dark for them to see the men below. They remained in their lying positions, guns pointed South, and inside their sleeping bags. William had fallen asleep. Caroline was heating up water for some hot chocolate. The others were certainly tired, but all alert.
Frank continued to watch the approaching men below. His Smart Scope’s digital target r
eader counting down the yards as the men got closer and closer.
He wished he had some way of communicating with the others, but he couldn’t risk giving away his group’s position. The men below moved forward again, but then stopped at 40 yards out. Frank re-gripped the stock of his Bushmaster, preparing for the coming recoil.
Just then the sound of a metal cup rolling down the hill interrupted the night’s silence. It spooked the ten convicts because the noise came from just above their position. Caroline had reached for her cup of cocoa and accidently tipped it over the ledge she’d been hiding behind. The cup rung like a church bell as it bounced and clanged down the rocky slope.
“Shit,” shouted Alvin, with panic in his voice.
Alvin pointed his automatic rifle up the hill slightly and let of a burst, the bullets climbing the hill. Two of the other men stood up and started firing blindly into the dark too. The last six men panicked and ran back to the South, tripping and falling over each other.
“Fire,” yelled Frank, and the combined firepower of the three SmartScope mounted Bushmasters smashed down hard on the three convicts below. Each man was cut down instantly. Then Frank put his cross hairs on the fourth man, who was now running away and caught him in the back with a single well placed round. The man went down on his face and did not move. The others were too far away now for clear shots.
Once Frank was sure the threat was over, he asked for a count.
“Sound off everybody,” Frank shouted to the East. “Let’s make sure we’re all OK.”
Frank barked off a, “Here!” Gracie went next, then Lenny, then William, then Doc, and then it was quiet. Caroline was next to Doc who should have spoken next.
“Caroline?” asked Doc. “You OK?” But there was no response.
After a few seconds Pam, and Sam both answered “here.”
Doc used his SmartScope to double check that nobody below him was still moving. Once he was satisfied, he slipped away from his spot and crawled over to where Caroline was positioned.
“Caroline,” he whispered, as he got closer. “You Ok?”
Doc would soon find that Caroline was dead. She was shot two times in the face and there was nothing Doc could do for her. She’d probably been hit when the convicts below fired blindly up the hill. “Just unlucky,” he thought to himself. How many times had Doc heard that one. He covered her up with her tent and moved back to his position. They’d have to leave her until they could safely bury the body.
Chapter 175: Like the plague
Snow started falling around 6 am. By 9 am it was coming down hard. By 2 pm afternoon there was a good foot of fresh snow everywhere and there was no sign of letting up.
Ivan sensed an opportunity and decided he’d send ten more men forward during the snowstorm, this time up the West side of the valley along the far West side of the field. The snow was falling so hard he was convinced they’d have the element of surprise and could easily wipe out their defenses.
On the back of his map, in a blank area, Ivan drew the leader of the group a crude map, identifying the positions in the hills on the West side of the freeway. He coached all the men to follow their leader to the extreme left and work their way up and around the enemy’s positions. Then wait until the weather cleared before shooting back down on the men below them.
The ten men were not very energetic about Ivan’s idea. The six who had barely escaped the earlier attack had already spread the word among the other convicts that the people on the hill seemed to know they were coming.
“We was like sittin ducks,” complained one man.
But Ivan would not be swayed. He picked the biggest man to lead them. His name was Clint and had more tattoos than bare skin. He wasn’t the brightest guy, but he would do as he was told.
The men set off at 2:30 pm. It was difficult walking in the deep snow and the wind made it hard to hear each other as they walked forward. They couldn’t see more than four feet ahead of them. The snow as biting and stung their eyes. They had gloves, but the temperature was so cold it seeped through their jackets and blue jeans. By the time they got to the base of the valley hills their feet were frozen. Some of the men wanted to go back.
“We won’t be able to see um, even if we get above um,” complained one man.
“Shut up,” said Clint. “They can’t see us either.”
As they continued struggling forward, four of the men kept up with Clint. The other five convicts began to hang back. They were becoming hesitant.
They were also under observation.
One of the most unique features of the SmartScope was its sonic beam/wave detector. It works a lot like a policeman’s radar gun. A focused microwave beam shoots out from a port on the scope’s forward facing mount. When designing this feature, the challenge had been to create a tight beam using low wattage. Randy had solved problem by forcing the beam through a miniaturized harmonic submission chamber. It kept the beam from breaking down as it left the scope. When the beam struck a solid object it bounced back an eerie 3-D image. It worked best in foggy or snowy conditions. Little did the approaching convicts know, but each man below were pinging back clear 3-D body outlines through Mark’s, Tyrone’s and Randy’s SmartScopes.
Mark fired first and Tyrone and Randy added their bursts a second later. After the closest targets were eliminated, the 3-D images took the form of several men lying on top of each other. The three Rangers watched the pile for another 30 minutes. But there was no movement. The remaining five men ran for their lives back to Ivan’s position.
It continued to snow for another 50 minutes. Then, thankfully, the clouds passed and the sun came out for an hour or two before it finally crept down behind the Western horizon. The surviving five men reported what had happened. Ivan used his binoculars to check on the five that did not return. All he could see was the feint outline of their snow covered bodies. They would definitely not be coming back.
Once the sun dropped behind the Western hills, the temperature plummeted. Mark and Frank talked briefly before the light faded completely. Frank reported Caroline’s death. Mark would pass the information down to the others. But the most sobering part of their discussion was how low they were all getting on ammunition – especially the Rangers. They had done all the firing lately. So Mark ordered everyone to give up their reserve rounds to the remaining Rangers – to even things up. The Major called Jake on the radio, from time to time. He was fine, tucked in tight on the top of the mountain.
“Ready to deliver as needed,” offered Jake, remembering the six remaining fifty caliber rounds he’d been saving.
Mark and Frank stopped by each person’s position, talked about ammo conservation, using single shots, relying on snow to conserve water, staying dry and warm. They brought back the rotating guard duty, so everyone finally got some sleep. He also snuck up the hill to visit Jacob and the kids and filled them in on what had happened. Little Sally didn’t’ take Caroline’s death well. She cried but didn’t make any noise. That little girl was thirty going on eight.
Mark’s other worry now was the group’s morale. He could tell everyone was beginning wear out. And the nasty weather wasn’t’ making it any easier. What he really hoped for was that the men on the other side of the valley would get tired too. Tired of losing their men and maybe decide to turn around and go back South.
But the men stayed. And then they stayed the entire following day. Nobody tried any attacks. Each group stayed at their own end of the valley. Once a while someone would temporarily leave their position to take care of business. But other than that, no one moved. Mark estimated the convicts were down to about 25 men now.
“They must really want the women,” thought Mark, just before he climbed inside his own sleeping bag for a few hours of rest. He was exhausted and had gotten the least sleep of anyone over the last few days. The major was out cold within a minute.
At the other end of the valley Ivan was growing anxious. His food was running low. But now he was most concerned wi
th mutiny. He could feel it in the muffled voices of the men as he walked past them, especially when conversations suddenly ended. When they were outside, cooking or just talking, the men avoided him like the plague. Only Beaver would come near him now.
Ivan was lying in his tent looking up at the roof. It was too dark to see much, but he was having a hard time getting to sleep because of the extreme cold. They brought warm jackets, but their shoes and other clothes were too thin. He was wearing everything he brought with him and even inside the sleeping bag he was still miserable.
“Tomorrow,” said Ivan to himself. “Tomorrow we will make our move.”
Chapter 176: This is embarrassing
The next day was much like the day before. It wasn’t quite as cold and most of the snow melted off the freeway’s dark asphalt. But nothing moved, that is until after lunch.
