“Why do you say that?”
“Because I’ve fought them before and they aren’t going to quit. They have lost almost everything they came here with, and they don’t have much more to lose. They will come at us again and probably soon.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“I am.”
“We have close to five hundred warriors here, and they are not going to be able to do anything against us.”
Stryker looked away and then said, his voice low and calm, “The only warriors around are me and those assholes who are going to try to kill us. You have a bunch of guys who push buttons, fly planes, and cook food. That is the reality of it and, while I don’t want to be offensive, you better get on board with that damn fast or we are going to have a major problem here.”
The color came to Thomas’ face quickly and he seemed to on the verge of losing control. Stryker stared at him impassively, waiting for his reply.
Thomas took a minute to regain his composure, and finally said, “What are you proposing?”
“Get the drones up and keep them up. I can go out and get them if you can find them.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes.”
“That’s crazy. Take some of my men.”
“I don’t want them. They would just get me killed.”
Thomas leaned back in his chair, examined Stryker with a frank look, and said, “You have a high opinion of yourself.”
“I do. I earned it.”
“Jesus, are you serious?”
“More serious than you are; you’re living in a fantasy world where the good guys always win. I know that’s not true, so just give me what I need and let me finish this thing.”
Thomas stared at him for a long moment, and then said, “My men need rest. If you have to have a drone, we can get it in the morning.”
“I didn’t sleep last night, and I’m not tired.”
“Well, I guess you’re superman. I don’t expect that of my men.”
“Then you won’t ever get it.” Stryker rose and walked out of the room.
Erin was waiting for him outside the office, and followed him through the comms center and out onto the pier.
“And?”
“It didn’t go well.”
“So, what do you want to do?”
“Get more coffee, some food and some sleep.” Stryker replied.
“And then?”
“I really don’t know,” Stryker replied.
They walked down the pier together, and Stryker wrapped a long arm around her shoulder as they walked.
“What are you thinking?” Erin asked.
“Well, I was wondering if I would get lucky tonight.”
“You can if we do it in the shower.”
“Why is that?”
“We both stink.”
“I smell like the tulip festival in Holland.”
“Only if you’re sniffing the fertilizer.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Stryker was sleeping the sleep of the dead when he awoke to the sound of soft thumping noises that sounded like distant gunfire. He sat up, and noted the sound was coming from the east.
He shook Erin awake, and said, “Get up and gear up. Something is going on.”
“What?” She mumbled.
“Get your gear and follow me.”
“Ahh, okay.”
Erin stumbled to her feet, swayed for a moment, and allowed her eyes to focus on the dark room around her. She shrugged into her vest, grabbed her M-4 and followed Stryker out the hatch to the cabin and down the hallway.
“Flight deck,” Stryker said, pointing up from the stairwell, and then throwing his messenger bag over one shoulder and pounding up the stairwell.
Erin followed right behind him and struggled to keep up.
They both moved exited the stairway and moved to the east side of the carrier’s flight deck.
Stryker looked off in the distance and saw small flashes of what appeared to gunfire directed toward the base. He glanced down and saw the slugs impacting the ground in front of the Humvees that guarded the gate, and saw that both gunners were down and defensive.
“This makes no sense,” he muttered.
“What are we doing?” Erin asked.
“Just wait and let me think,” Stryker replied.
He again watched gunfire winking from the high-rises that surrounded the base, and then rested the M-4 on his hip. Their fire, which he guessed was supposed be suppressing, was not hitting close enough to be effective, and posed no threat to him or Erin. The slugs were reaching the gates, but not beyond.
There was no card for the terrorists to play so far as he could tell and the attack was only enough to give Stryker’s side the sure knowledge of where the missing terrorists were.
It made no sense.
Stryker was confused. There was no apparent impending attack and, as far as he could tell, no reason for the fire coming from the buildings. It was totally ineffective, aside from keeping the Ma Dueces from returning fire.
He stood for a few more seconds, thinking it over, his mind whirling through possible explanations and quickly discarding them. A troubled look came to his face and Stryker turned to Erin and said, “They are coming at us from the ocean.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It must be happening. Let’s get aft now; they must be trying to come at us from there.”
“We said that would never happen.”
“Well, it is.”
The ran to the western side of the flight deck, which faced the open harbor and Stryker cautiously peeked over the edge of the ship and saw silhouettes of two dinghy’s paddling toward the pier.
“Two hundred meters out and approaching down the port side,” Stryker whispered.
“Which side is that?”
“The side toward the dock. Stryker began to belly crawl to the side of the ship where the men approached. Erin followed suit, and they both reached the side of the vessel, and Stryker again peeked over the hull. He snapped a mental photo of the image, and pulled back into hiding.
The small vessels had closed to a hundred yards and Stryker could begin to make out the sound of the paddles entering and leaving the water.
“Mags out,” he whispered.
Erin nodded and placed three mags for her carbine in front of her. Stryker did the same, and then reached into the messenger bag and set two grenades to the side of his mags.
“When they pass under us, I will drop the grenades. When the blast passes, open up on full auto and burn a clip,” He whispered into her ear.
Erin nodded her understanding and quietly moved the selector to full auto. Stryker did the same.
Although it was dark, the terrorists were trying to use the space between the hull of the ship and the pier to cover their advance on the base.
Stryker closed his eyes and again examined the image he saw when he glanced at the group approaching.
“Shit,” he whispered. What Stryker had noticed, although it was from a distance and with poor lighting, was that two of the men in the front dingy looked unusually bulky.
“There might be a secondary explosion after I drop the grenades.
Erin had a question mark in her eyes.
“I think two of them are wearing suicide vests,” he whispered. “Crawl to the middle of the deck and lay facing away from this side. Stay down after the first blast. Cover your ears and keep your mouth open. You understand?”
She again nodded, and quietly crawled away.
When she was in position, Stryker turned away and waited.
Stryker could not risk another look at the boats, so he closed his eyes and honed his hearing. The soft splashing continued to get closer, and he knew he would have only a few seconds to kneel and locate the dinghies, arm the grenades and drop them down into the boats. The timing had to be close to perfect.
The oars churning the water grew clearly audible.
Stryker armed the first grenade and held it in his right hand,
and then picked the second one up with his left. He waited a few more seconds, and then got to his knees and looked over the deck of the ship. The dinghies were only a few meters apart and the first was directly below him.
Stryker dropped the first grenade, armed and threw the second, and then fell prone and started to roll away from the side of the ship.
What should have been two moderate explosions was a massive one that threw Stryker to the middle of the flight deck, where he lay a few meters from Erin, stunned and gasping for breath. The concussion from the blast had rendered him temporarily deaf and left him with a ringing tone in his ears.
An echo of the explosion rolled over them, but Stryker felt like he was trying to hear underwater. He struggled get up, but gave up and lay on the deck still panting for air.
“Jesus,” Erin said as piece of wood and unrecognizable body parts rained down on the deck.
She stood and shaky legs and stumbled to where Stryker lay. As she approached, a severed human hand smacked against Stryker’s chest with a wet sound.
Erin kneeled next to Stryker, hesitated, and then picked up the hand by its thumb and hurled it over the side of the ship. Stryker blinked twice, and she helped him into a sitting position.
“Are you all right?” He asked, almost screaming.
“Fine.”
“Shit,” He wheezed. “That hurt.”
“You don’t look so good Caleb.
“Never better,” He whispered back
Erin could see he was struggling to stay in a seated position and checked his eyes. They were unfocused and roaming around in their sockets.
“Get back down,” Erin said, gently pushing him on his back.
Stryker promptly passed out.
Erin heard the pounding of footsteps running down the pier, debated revealing herself, and decided against it. “We’re up here,” She yelled over the side of the ship. “We need a medic.”
“Is that you Erin?” It was Thomas’s voice.
“Yes, tell everyone to hold their fire.”
Thomas gave the command. Erin moved to the end of the flight deck, where she could see a clump of men staring up at her and Captain Thomas standing to one side.
“I’m up here with Stryker and he is down. I need help right now.”
“What the hell happened here?”
“I can tell you later. I need to get Stryker to the clinic and we need the doctor.”
CHAPER TWENTY-TWO
Stryker sat upright in the clinic bed next to Edwards, sipping coffee and wincing with each sip, but continued drinking it anyway.
“The doctor said you would be fine,” Erin said from her chair next to the bed. “It’s another concussion and you just need a few days of bed rest.”
Stryker looked back at her and smiled.
“It’s just his head,’ Edwards said in a dismissive tone. “Hardest material on the planet. I heard once that NASA wanted to study it for heat shields on the shuttle.”
“Thanks,” Stryker grumbled. He held the cup out to Erin, who refilled it from a coffee maker she brought to the room earlier and handed it back to Stryker.
“Just couldn’t stay away, could you?” Edwards said mockingly. “You just had to come back and try to talk me into getting killed on one more of your crackpot missions.”
“No, I came back to get my goodbye kiss,” Stryker retorted, pursing his lips and making a smacking sound.
“Will, you two stop?” Erin asked. “Both of you need some rest.”
“We’ll rest when were dead,” Stryker growled.
“Which will be in about twenty seconds if you two don’t knock it off,’ Erin shot back with a scowl. “Besides, Thomas is coming to see you soon.”
“Why?”
“He wants to know what happened.”
“Didn’t you tell him?”
“Just the basics.”
“I’m going to get some lunch,” Erin said, again standing. “You want me to bring you something?”
“Sure,” Stryker replied.
“Me too,” Edwards added.
“Where is Elle?” Stryker asked, realizing he hadn’t seen her since he awoke.
“She is helping get a base garden planted. She’ll be by later,” Erin answered.
She left the room as Thomas entered, stepping to one side to let him pass and then moving down the hallway.
Thomas poured himself a cup of coffee, and then held up the pot.
Stryker held out his cup.
“So what the hell was that all about?” Thomas asked.
“I don’t know for sure, but I have a theory,” Stryker replied.
“I’m all ears.”
“Our missing terrorists must have been the vanguard for the group. They were moving in front of them, finding food and water, and whatever else they needed. And, they obviously found some explosives.”
“Why didn’t we find them?” Thomas asked.
“Because they were already in town when we started using the drones. Most likely in the commercial building across the street. Even if we were looking for them, chances are we wouldn’t have found them inside steel and concrete buildings.”
“Why do you think they were there?”
“Because, they obviously have been surveilling us. They knew they couldn’t take the front gate without heavy weapons, so they decided to come at us from the rear.”
“I don’t think I’m following,” Thomas said with a note of confusion.
“We had no sentries facing the ocean. Since we stopped being able to work at night, we only had six armed men standing post, and nobody facing the ocean. So, they were going to land the boats, leave a few men on the pier to stop anyone from getting to the weapons locker and getting armed.” Stryker paused for a moment, and then added, “You might want to change that policy. We’re far better off with everyone armed. They could have cut off everybody from getting weapons, and it would have been a slaughter, and we would have lost.”
Thomas shook his head, a numb expression on his face. “How did they know the weapons were on board the ship at night?” He finally asked.
“The watched everyone going on board at the end of every day carrying weapons and watched them leave unarmed.”
“Go on,” Thomas said.
“The second group was going after the singles barracks, and was going to blow at least two stories of the building, but probably more as I know they had a lot more explosives than I saw.”
“How do you know that?”
“The blast was much stronger than it should have been. It was about what you would get from a five-hundred pounder. My guess was they had more explosives sitting on the bottom of the boats, and they were going to use it to bring the whole building down. And, that would explain why they came in two boats. They didn’t have enough room for the men and explosives.”
“My God,” Thomas said, “That’s almost all my men.”
“It is. Do you remember when I asked you to disperse the sailors around in different buildings?”
“Yes.” Thomas wore a very unhappy expression.
“This is why.”
“I’ll do that today.”
“You should. There are still some of them out there,” Stryker said. “You might also want to let everyone keep their weapons wherever they are staying.”
Thomas nodded.
“The third group was going to kill the front sentries while the snipers kept them facing that threat, get the Ma Deuces, and turn the camp into a giant wheel of Swiss cheese while the rest of the terrorists advanced to the base and mopped up all the unarmed sailors that couldn’t get to the ship.”
“It would have been a slaughter. You’re right.”
“I know,” Stryker replied quietly.
“I guess we owe you a thank you,” Thomas said.
“None needed. I was trying to protect me and mine. Just make the changes you need to make to keep your people safe.”
“I’m going to do it right now.”
�
��This isn’t what you were trained for,” Stryker said in the kindest tone he could muster. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“Thanks for that.” Thomas said, and got up. He was walking to the door, when he turned and looked at Stryker. “If we make the changes, will everyone be safe?”
“No,” Stryker replied.
“Why not?”
“Because every time we think we’re done with these assholes, they pop up again like some whack-a-mole machine at an arcade.”
“You have anything more concrete than that?”
“Yes. If they had a vanguard element, we can’t rule out they didn’t have groups to the north and south as well.”
“But, you did a count after the first strike and we’ve been keeping track of the number dead.”
“Garbage in, garbage out,” Stryker replied.
“What does that mean?” Thomas looked confused again.
“What if they had elements out from the beginning, before that initial strike? We haven’t even looked to the north and south. We never did. We have no way of knowing that the first count was correct.”
“How far away would they be from the main column?”
“They had radios, so my guess is they would stay in range; call it ten miles or so.”
“Well, there can’t be that many of them left.” Thomas brightened at the thought.
“We know for sure there are still ten of them that survived the cluster bomb attack, more from the fire we took at the front gate, and maybe even more from groups we don’t know about.”
“You aren’t exactly an optimist, are you?”
“Captain,’ Stryker replied, intentionally using his rank. “These are the toughest and most ruthless fighters in the world. They held us off and killed a lot of us for years. They have no technology, bad communications, crappy weapons, and they don’t have drones or fighter aircraft or any other advantages we had. Still, they were successful at creating a stalemate. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating them, or how cunning they can be. This isn’t over by a long shot.”
“You sound like you almost admire them.”
“I admire a lot of things that I don’t like. It doesn’t stop me from doing the job that needs to be done.”
“So, what do you want to do now” We really have to end this and get back to rebuilding.”
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