STRYKER - OMNIBUS: BOOKS 3-5: A Post Apocalyptic Tale

by Bobby Andrews

  “I take they are inbound?” Erin asked.

  “On their way to meet destiny.” Stryker replied.

  “Comms center,” he said

  “Go.”

  “It’s on you now. We are heading two klicks to the west and will return to do battle damage assessment.”

  “Will you be going to the strike zone?” the man asked.

  “Negative, we will observe from the building. Five percent of those sub munitions fail to detonate and a strike zone turns into a minefield, but we we’ll get the job done.”

  “The F-18s are airborne,” the voice said.

  “ETA?”

  “Five minutes.”

  “Out and good luck.” Stryker grabbed his M-4 and motioned to Erin. They ran to the stairwell, pounded down the steps, and left the building at a full run.

  Stryker vaulted into the driver’s seat and Erin took the passenger side. They left the site and high speed, entered the freeway, and Stryker pushed the vehicle up to eighty. He glanced at his watch every so often and, after two minutes he pulled off to the side of the free when he spotted a large culvert, and hustled Erin into the tunnel it formed.

  “How much time left?” Erin asked.

  “Two minutes to release and another minute to impact.”

  “What happens if they stop marching?”

  “They will get as many as they can, and we’ll figure out what do about the rest of them.”

  “How will the pilots know if they stop?”

  “They probably won’t unless the comms center tells them. They are at altitude, but it’s a clear day so they can see the landmarks. So, the go decision really is back at the base. I’m guessing Thomas will make the call.”

  Why don’t you call the comms center and find out what’s going on.” Erin asked.

  “He’s busy right now.”

  “What’s plan B?”

  “Sic the kitty on them.” Stryker grinned.

  “Seriously.”

  “We won’t know until we do the assessment.”

  “So we just wait without knowing what’s going on.”

  “For the next two minutes. I can wait that long.”

  “This kind of sucks. We should have stayed at the building.”

  “No, if the eastbound pilot releases early, that building is right on his course of travel. That’s the last place we want to be.”

  Two minutes later, a massive series of explosions sounded to the east.

  “Comms center,” Stryker said.

  “Go.”

  “What does it look like?”

  “Can’t tell yet; too much dust in the air.”

  “Advise when you have eyes on it.”

  “Roger. Out.”

  Stryker looked at Erin and said, “We may as well wait in the Humvee.”

  They left the culvert and walked back to the vehicle, where Stryker said, “You drive.”

  “Got it.” Erin got behind the wheel and moved the seat forward as Stryker brought his binoculars up and glassed the area of the blast.

  “Anything?” She asked.

  “Nothing yet. Still too much dust.”

  “More waiting,” she muttered as her fingers drummed the steering wheel of the vehicle.

  “You get used to it,” Stryker replied without lowering the binoculars.

  “Well, I won’t.”

  “Sure you will.” A few more minutes passed and Stryker was starting to feel annoyed as well.

  “Comms center.” Stryker adjusted his earbud, and touched the throat mic.

  “Go,” he replied.

  “Dust is clearing. Bodies are down and a small element seems to be moving east.”

  “Estimate of the number fleeing the battle scene.

  “It’s not totally clear, but it looks like maybe ten fighters.”

  “Advise if the changed direction. We are going back to the over watch and doing the assessment.”

  “Roger,” the man replied.

  “Wind it up,” Stryker said as he got into the Humvee.”

  “You got it.”

  They approached the building slowly, with Stryker scanning the horizon in all directions. Erin shifted in her seat and brought the vehicle to a stop along the side of the structure, out of sight from the east.

  “Good thinking,” Stryker said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They got out of the vehicle and approached the building with their carbines at the low ready, both watching over their shoulders for movement to the east.

  Stryker led the way back up the stairway; they reached the fourth floor and passed through the exit on the roof, and then crouched as they moved to the east side of the structure.

  “Keep watching to the east while I glass the battlefield,” Stryker said.

  “Got it.”

  As he gazed through the binoculars, he emitted a low whistle.

  “That looks like the moon on a clear night. Craters everywhere.”

  “How many are down?” Erin asked.

  “Around ninety. I need to do a count now so, hold any questions for now.”

  He began counting and stopped at eighty-seven. The battlefield was littered with black clumps, many of them not every recognizable as a human form. Body parts were strewn around the battlefield, and dropped weapons lay beside many of the bodies.

  “Seven wounded,” Stryker muttered.

  “Can I look?” Erin asked as he lowered the binoculars.

  “Are you sure that you want to? That’s a pretty grizzly scene down there.”

  “Yes,” she replied, taking the binoculars from him and raising them to her face.

  Stryker brought up his M-4 and scanned the battlefield again.

  “That is pretty gruesome,” Erin sighed as she lowered the glasses.

  “It’s not pretty,” Stryker replied.

  “Comms center” he said.

  “Go.” It was Thomas’ voice.

  “Eighty-seven presumed dead and seven visible wounded. I don’t have eyes on the survivors, and don’t know where they are.”

  “We estimate around ten walked away.”

  “Our numbers are light,” Stryker replied. “The last count we had was 140 terrorist. We can only account for 105.”

  “Copy that.”

  “Any idea where the ten went?”

  “They disappeared into the tree line to your east. We don’t have eyes on them now.”

  “The missing thirty-five?”

  “No clue,” Thomas replied. There was a pause as both considered the implication of the missing fighters.”

  “I would love to get one of the wounded as a prisoner and question him,” Stryker finally said. “But there is a lot of unexploded ordnance on the battle site and those things can be set off by the vibration of the ground from a footstep”

  “What about the wounded?” Thomas asked. Stryker looked up and saw three of the men were now sitting, and a fourth staggering around holding his head. The other three were still on the ground and one of them had stopped moving. Then, the upright man disappeared into a pink mist as the shock wave from an unexploded bomblet passed over.

  “Well,” Stryker said. “That seals the deal. There’s no way I’m going over there. But, it does give me an idea.”

  “What’s that?” Erin asked.

  “Just listen.”

  Stryker keyed his throat mic and then said, “I’m going to leave them here in case anybody wants to come back and try to help them. Let them blow themselves up. They are all combat ineffective anyway and will probably bleed out before sunset.”

  “Agreed,” Thomas replied.

  “We are inbound. ETA forty minutes.”

  “Roger. Out.”

  They got into the vehicle, with Erin again driving, and headed back to the base.

  “So, it’s over?” Erin asked.

  “No. There are still some more out there. After we get them, it’s over.”

  As they pulled away, Izu roared agai
n from somewhere off to the east. The sound passed over them twice, after he bellowed out one more roar.

  “We’re going to hear from him again,” Stryker said with a note of finality.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Good to see you,” Stryker said as he and Erin entered Edward’s room and saw him sitting up in the bed with Elle at his side. He was carrying two mugs of streaming black coffee and set one on the table next to the bed, before he toasted with his mug and took a long pull of black elixir.

  “God, I thought I was going to die,” Stryker said, before taking another long pull. He walked back to Erin, took another mug from her hand, and started to drink that one too. “Life is not worth living without coffee.”

  His expression could only be described as “blissful”.

  He walked over to the bed, fist-bumped his friend, and then stood back and stared down at him. Edwards was looking much better, and Stryker felt a sense of relief.

  “If you’re not going to drink that, I will.”

  “I’m just letting it cool.”

  “Don’t wait too long.” Stryker beamed a grin at him and sat on the foot of the bed. He looked at Edwards again and saw a thoughtful expression.

  “You got almost all of them?” Edwards asked. When Stryker looked confused, he added, “We heard the cheer from the pier when you called it in. Thomas came and briefed me after Elle went down to ask what was going on.”

  “We didn’t get enough of them,” Stryker replied with a grim expression. “There are still around forty of them running around in two groups and we have no idea where the second group is.”

  “You going after them?”

  “Soon as we can find them.”

  “Stryker and I will talk about that before any decision is made,” Erin added hastily.

  “I’m sorry,” Elle said. She stood and faced Stryker, but lowered her eyes. “I shouldn’t have hit you. I was terrified and worried sick.”

  “I was too,” Stryker replied gently. “It’s okay. The important thing is that he’s fine. He’ll be back to normal before we know it.”

  “Stryker, why don’t you just lay it down? We took their heavy weapons and they can’t mount an attack against the base with any chance of winning, so just let it go.” Edwards seemed to almost begging.

  “Yes, Elle added, “We can’t keep fighting this group for the rest of our lives.”

  Stryker ignore her comment, looked at Edwards, and knew it was futile, but felt like he had to say it. He looked away, reluctant to lay it out but knew it had to be done. He glanced at Erin, who dropped her eyes to the floor.

  “We took their heavy weapons once before, and they just went and got more. Nothing is stopping them from doing it again. We can’t stop until they’re all dead. You know that. You we’re with me in the sandbox and saw it for yourself. There is absolutely no reason to think they won’t fight to the last man, and I’d rather have the fight now than later when we will have to fight on their terms if they get more weapons.”

  “He’s not going out with you again,” Elle stated flatly, raising her eyes and looking into Stryker’s. “He’s not as lucky as you.”

  “You good with that Edwards?”

  “I am for now. I’m not going anywhere for a while anyway, so I can decide later. Stryker noted he had said ‘I’ and not ‘we” and nodded his understanding.

  “Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”

  “Thanks for that.” Edwards glanced away, looking chagrined and uncertain. An awkward silence seemed to go on forever.

  Stryker walked over to the bed and extended his hand. “It’s an honor to call you my friend. No matter what you decide, that will never change.”

  Edwards just stared back at him and numbly accepted the outstretched hand. His own disappeared behind Stryker’s massive fist and he glanced down, and then released his grip. Stryker moved away from the bed and stood next to Erin.

  “Tell them about your lion,” Erin said in an apparent attempt to change the topic.

  “Why don’t you tell them?” Stryker replied. “I need to get to the comms center and see what is going on with the rest of the terrorists.”

  “Go ahead,” Erin replied, after seeing the expression on his face. “I’ll either be here or in the cafeteria.”

  Stryker kissed her cheek, and winked at Edwards, then nodded at Elle.

  “I’ll be back in a bit.”

  Erin watched his broad back as he ducked down through the door to the clinic and walked out of sight.

  “I’m sorry,” Elle said to Erin. “But, enough is enough.”

  “Are you going to stay here?” Erin asked.

  “We’re talking about going back to Portland,” Elle replied.

  Edwards remained mute, glancing around the room with a distracted expression.

  Erin walked to his side and took one of his hands in both of hers. “Blaine, it’s all right. We will be fine. You did your part and it’s okay. He won’t think less of you or value you differently.”

  “Thanks,” Elle said.

  “I better go to the comms center and listen to what the deal is,” Erin said with a look of regret.

  “What about the lion?” Edwards asked.

  “I’ll tell you about that later,” Erin replied and left the room.

  She caught up with Stryker as he walked down the pier. Erin slowed down and walked by his side, taking two paces for each he took.

  “What was that about?” She asked as they walked.

  “He’s checked out. He’s had enough. It happens to everybody. I’ll miss him, but the fact his he has nothing left and it’s better to let him move to the sidelines then to play injured.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Injured players get hurt.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” Stryker answered and lengthened his stride.

  “Is this a freaking track meet?” Erin asked, and then grabbed his arm and spun him toward her.

  “No, I just want to get on with it.” She stared up at him; saw the look of grim determination that was familiar to her.

  “Can we just talk for a minute?”

  “Sure,” he shrugged, but the jaw remained clenched and his tone was dismissive.

  “I want you to really listen to me now,” Erin said, her voice low and serious.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re being flip and you look like a mule that doesn’t want to take a bit.”

  “I don’t know much about mules, but I can get why they don’t like a bit.”

  “Will you just listen?”

  “All right, go ahead. Stryker walked to a bit of shade on the side of the carrier and sat down.

  “What just happened?” Erin asked, sitting next to him.

  “He’s done.” Stryker replied. “He’s never been wounded or hurt and he now gets that bad shit happens. He doesn’t like it, and it’s easier to walk away. It’s really not hard to understand.”

  “What does it mean for us?”

  “Well, that depends on what we can find out about where the two groups are. If we can get them out in the open again, it’s “Pan Comida”.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It’s Spanish and literally means, “Eaten bread.” The colloquial meaning is, “a cake walk, or a walk in the park.”

  “And if we can’t?”

  “Then I have to go hunting again.”

  Erin remained silent as she considered the implications. “So, you’ll be hunting at night again?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I can’t go with you?”

  “No.”

  “We need to find a better solution.”

  “Hope is not a strategy.”

  “But it doesn’t cost anything either,” Erin replied, stealing one of his favorite expressions.

  “No.” They both fell silent for a long time, each glancing around the pier and wondering where they were going.

  “You ch
ecked out a few times,” Erin finally said.

  “I know, but they were temporary. I never just gave up and I never will. We are going to win this thing no matter what, and then we are going to have a normal life again.”

  “So, you are going to finish this no matter what the danger is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Doesn’t that strike you as the least bit stupid?”

  “No. These assholes will attack us with butter knifes if they can’t find anything else. This is a battle to the death for both sides. The problem is that I seem to be surrounded by people who don’t get that. Everyone seems to think that a partial victory is a win, and it’s not. I know that, and seem to be the only one who does.”

  Erin looked away, grew resigned with the situation, and finally said, “You go back to Blaine and make him feel like he’s not letting you down and you still respect him. You do that before you go again, and that is not negotiable. You cannot steal his honor from him and make him feel bad about this.”

  “I will,” Stryker replied. “And thanks.”

  “What for?”

  “Reminding me of why I fought in the first place.”

  “You’re welcome I guess,” Erin replied, confused by his answer.

  Stryker walked into a comms center that seemed to celebrating something and the mood was festive. He walked over to Thomas, who was toasting with a coffee cup and glanced at Erin, who stood by his side and stared back at him with a look of reluctance.

  Men and women soon surrounded him and clapped his back and offered congratulations. Stryker looked back at Erin, shook his head sadly, then turned to Thomas and said, “Can we have a word in private?”

  “Sure,” Thomas replied, beaming back at him. “Come to my office.”

  They passed through the conference room and then walked into the office. Thomas took a chair behind the desk, still beaming at Stryker and said, “What’s on your mind?”

  “This isn’t over.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There are still a lot of them out there, and we don’t know where they are. Are we still flying drones looking for them?”

  “Well, no. They were moving east the last time we saw them. They are done, Stryker. Fantastic job and we all thank you, but they aren’t doing anything more. They’re finished.”

  “No they aren’t.”