“You said you had four drones?”
“Yes.”
“Space them eight klicks across starting from the heading of the last group we bombed. Fly them twenty miles to east, push them out two more klicks, and have them return to the base. Use them all and, with four, you can cover sixteen klicks north to south. If we don’t see anything, I guess that’s as close as we can get to having this over with. But, even that still leaves two groups unaccounted for.”
“I’ll get them in the air.”
“And, as soon as I can, I will clean out the rat’s nest in the city and find the ones who got away after the cluster bomb attack.”
“That might be awhile,” Thomas said softly.”
“Not likely.”
Thomas shook his head, and again turned to leave. Once he was down the hallway, Edwards spoke for the first time. “You were kind of hard on him.”
“Maybe, but we all damn near got killed. He needs to come to Jesus before we get wiped out.” I’m keenly interested in his success.
“Why is that?”
“Everybody I have in the world is on this base.”
“That number could get reduced.”
“I know, and I am good with it.”
“You sure?”
Stryker stared back at him long enough for Edwards to understand Stryker could live with it.
Erin walked through the door with two bags and moved to the beds. She handed one to each of them, made another pot of coffee, and then sat next to Stryker.
“What did Thomas say?” She asked.
“Not much,” Stryker replied. I just told him what I know.”
“And what was that?”
“Not much.”
CHAPER TWENTY-FOUR
Stryker sat in the comms center, two days later, and watched the feeds from the drones. He sighed with frustration as the images continued to move across the array of monitors without detecting anything at all.
His head still throbbed, but he managed to get the doctor to clear him for duty and was fully functional, albeit by hiding the pain and fighting past the discomfort.
Erin and Haley walked into the room and stood on either side of him.
“What are you doing?” Stryker asked.
“We’re helping Elle and the volunteers put in the garden and decided to take a break and see what you were up to.”
“Whole lot of nothing here.”
“You think they’re gone?” Haley asked with a note of anxiety.
“No idea.” Stryker replied without taking his eyes of the monitors. He sighed, stood up and faced the women.
“Where have you been lately?” He said to Haley. “I haven’t seen you in days.”
“She’s with Bradley now,” Erin answered with a sly expression.
“Our Bradley?” Stryker asked. “The one we found in Austin?”
“Yes,” Erin answered as Haley looked away.”
“Well, I guess that’s a good thing, right?”
“Yes,” Haley said softly, her eyes moving up. “I was really lonely for the longest time.” She looked away again.
Stryker looked at Erin, who stared back with no expression at all.
“Well, I’m happy for you for you,” Stryker said. He again glanced at Erin, who issued the mildest shrug possible and also looked away.
“You want to get some lunch?” Erin asked.
“Does it come with coffee?”
“Anything you want comes with lunch.”
Stryker smiled his best attempt at lecherous smile and said, “Lead on.”
“You’re going to make a horrible dirty old man,” Erin said as they left the comms center.
“I can only try.”
Stryker stared down at the tuna sandwich on his plate. It was the fourth one in a row that he had eaten, and turned to Haley. “Do you know if we have any other lunches on the base?”
“We don’t.” Haley replied with a grin, taking a giant bite out of her sandwich and beaming back.”
“Where does the bread come from?” Erin asked.
“Bradly says they have enough flour to make bread for another year.”
“Lovely.” Stryker grumbled. He picked up his sandwich and looked at it doubtfully, but took a bite.
His hunger took over and he wolfed half the sandwich down without speaking again. “I guess that wasn’t so bad.” He pronounced.
“You’re losing a lot of weight,” Erin said.
“I can afford to.
“Not really,” she replied, “You have very little body fat and you burn a lot of calories. I think we need to get you on some supplements, or you need to eat more.”
“Do I have to eat more of this?”
“If that’s all there is, yes.’ Erin replied.
“Find me a Taco Bell, and I’ll eat until the building disappears,” Stryker replied.
“Not likely.”
“Burger King?”
“Well, no again.”
“Then I guess I am screwed.” Stryker took another large bite from his sandwich, washed it down with coffee, and smiled at Erin. The sandwich was gone, and his plate was empty.
“So, what happens now?” Erin asked. “You can’t keep looking for more terrorists forever.”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “We still have somewhere around fifteen of them out there that we know about and I guess, at some point, we need to take them out. After that, we find a house and go furniture shopping.”
“Nothing has happened for three days now. They haven’t done anything.” Erin stared at Stryker with a curious look.”
“They might have left,” he conceded. “Let’s give it a few more days and, if nothing happens, I guess we call it a draw and move on. But, I don’t like the idea of moving around the city without knowing if they are still there or not.”
“We may have to live with that.”
“I know. But, let’s wait a little longer.”
“Are you getting bored?” Haley asked. She wore a curious expression.
“Why do you ask that?” Stryker replied.
“Because when you get bored, you tend to do stupid shit and then Erin has to paste you back together. It’s hard on her.”
Stryker stared back at her, befuddled. Haley was never confrontational about anything. He was about to reply, when the truth of her statement struck him with a glancing blow. He considered it for a moment, glanced at Erin, who stared back at him with a neutral expression.
“Out of the mouth of babies,” he murmured.
“Yeah,” Erin added.
The ladies went back to gardening and Stryker went back to the comms center. He spent another fruitless hour watching the monitor, and was about to nod off when he noticed bright flashes on the left corner of one of the screens.
“What was that?” he asked the technician.
“Don’t know,” he replied. He moved the joystick to the left, and the terrain angle changed as he banked the drone and flew in the direction of the flickers. As the drone neared the site, the technician twisted the dial and zoomed to the area.
“That’s where we bombed them last time,” Stryker said. “Those lights must be unexploded bomblets detonating.”
“Could be,” The man shrugged.
“Zoom in some more.”
The battlefield drew closer, until Stryker could make out three men running across the open area. They were widely spaced and moving away from a smoldering crater that was directly south of them. Three more craters emitted thin smoke.
“Some of them must have got too close,” Stryker said with grim satisfaction.
“What are they running from?”
“I don’t know Stryker replied. “Zoom out.”
When he did, Stryker saw the men were being pursued by Izu, who was closing fast. Two of them were weaponless, but the third stopped, turned, and fired on the big cat.
Apparently, he missed and was out of ammo, because he turned and ran. Two seconds later, Izu jumped and landed on the ma
n’s back, and rode him to the ground, and then grabbed his head between massive jaws. The man’s legs convulsed once, and then he lay motionless.
“Jesus,” the technician whispered, and then looked at Stryker. “That’s a lion.”
“Yes it is.” Stryker’s eyes remained on the monitor as he spoke. Izu stood and looked around, then started off at a trot in the direction the remaining terrorists fled.
“I guess we don’t have to worry about that group anymore,” Stryker said. “Do you remember how many of those flashes we saw?”
“Several.”
“That was a lion,” the technician repeated with a tone of wonder, glancing again at Stryker.
“Yes,” Stryker repeated.
“What the hell just happened?” he asked.
“I didn’t see anything that you didn’t see.”
The man looked puzzled for a second, and then asked, “What do you think happened?”
I think they went back to look for weapons or ammo from their dead buddies, and some of them walked too close to the bomblets and set them off.”
“And the lion?”
Stryker shrugged and then said, “They are territorial animals and they don’t like competition for food. My guess is they were in his territory and he decided they had to go. So, he caught them out in the open and went after them. The bomb blasts may have attracted him to them, but I don’t really know.”
Stryker had already decided to not mention his encounter with Izu to anyone; what happened stretched his own imagination to its very limits and he was pretty certain others would think he was making it up or insane.
Erin gaped when Stryker explained what had happened.
“How many are left?” she asked.
“We flew back over the battlefield and counted four new craters. So, my guess is the ones that Izu is hunting are the last of them. I think it’s safe to say we are down to fewer than ten of them in the city.”
“So the drone found no other groups.” She asked.
“No. And we’ve been looking for close to three days. I think we’re almost done with this.”
“Well, that’s good news.”
“It is, but we still need to wait a few days and see if that last group is going to try something.” Stryker was pretty sure it was over, but reluctant to express that to anybody until it was definite.
“With five or so fighers?” Erin asked, her voice filled with disbelief. “Not likely.”
“They can still set up snipers and try to disrupt the camp, but they have no end game left.”
“Sure they could snipe at us. But why would they? There’s nothing to gain anymore.”
“They probably feel like they have nothing to lose either. My guess is they will either go away or try some sort of suicide attack on the base, but who knows?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
They took their first casualty that afternoon. It was a sailor walking from the cafeteria back to work. Stryker was in their cabin when he heard the shot. He thought it over for a second, and decided it sounded like a .308. Since the Navy had no .308s, he concluded the terrorists had taken another shopping trip.
He reached under the bunk and dragged a large rifle case out from under the bed and opened it. He examined the weapon carefully after pulling it from the case and laying it on the bunk. He reached down again and pulled four ten round magazines out and two boxes of shells.
The rifle was officially known as the Long Range Sniper Rifle, Caliber .50, M-107. It was topped by a Leupold 4.5-14X50 Mark 4 scope and was a newer version of the venerable weapon. It was a semi-automatic that was also called a “Light Fifty” due to its .50 BMG (12.7X99mm NATO) chambering and its lighter weight than previous versions of the weapon.
Most just called it a “Barrett”, named after its inventor.
The rifle had a manageable recoil for a weapon that a muzzle velocity of 853 m/s and an effective range of 1800 meters. This was due to a barrel assembly that absorbs the force by moving inward toward the receiver against large springs.
Stryker was snapping the last cartridge into the fourth magazine when Erin burst through the door.
“They’re shooting at us.” She huffed.
“I gathered that already.” Stryker reached down into the case again, pulled out a spotting scope and handing it to Erin.
“What are we doing?”
“Counter fire on the snipers from the deck. Did anyone see where the shot came from?”
“I don’t know exactly, but it sounded like the commercial buildings on the other side of the base.”
Stryker heard a noise in the hallway, turned around and watched as Edwards came into the room. He was wearing jeans and a work shirt. His expression was bland.
“You good to go?”
Edwards just nodded back.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t be able to help if you’re not at one hundred percent,” Stryker added.
“I’m good.”
Stryker plucked the spotting scope from Erin’s hand, and gave it to Edwards.
“You’ve been demoted,” he said with a grin.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“Call the comms center and tell them to get everyone behind cover. There is no point in returning fire with the M-16s. It’s just going to get people killed. Also ask them to get a drone up over those buildings. We might be able to pick up muzzle flashes. If we do, radio the location to me,” Stryker stopped and thought about it for a moment. “You stay in the comms center and do not leave unless we talk first. You got all that?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go,” Stryker said, looking at Edwards again.
The two men climbed a flight of stairs and walked out on the flight deck.
“If they’re shooting from those buildings, they are probably on the fourth or fifth floor; high enough to see the entire base but not so high as to make the shots more difficult.” Stryker said.
“Range to the first building is 1200 meters.” Edwards said, peering through the scope.
“Let’s get set up and 1100.”
“Why?”
“You know why,” Stryker replied.
“Which version to you want to believe? The army says the maximum effective range of the .308 is eight hundred meters, and the marines say one thousand.” Edwards said.
“I want to go with our version. But, bear in mind that is a very good weapon and round. It’s easy to shoot and behaves predictably in the wind. And, it is very consistent, with good terminal ballistics, so if we take any fire we have to move before they get close and dial it in.”
“I get that.”
Edwards walked down the deck, scope to his eye. He stopped, and then lay on his stomach. Stryker followed behind him and then lay next him, opened the bipod and sighted through the weapon. His earbud had been crackling ceaselessly while everyone seemed to be talking at one, and he took it off and handed it to Edwards.
“I don’t want to try and shoot with that thing sounding like a popcorn maker in my ear. Tell everyone to shut up and let me know when Erin calls.”
“Got it.”
A few moments passed, and then Edwards spoke briefly, pressed the earbud deeper in his ear and listened intently.
“Nearest building, either the fourth or fifth floor,” said to Stryker.
“Tag all the open windows on those floors,” Stryker replied, looking over the scope at the building. As he waited for Edwards, he dialed in the range and again looked through the scope.
“Total of three windows. Target one is fourth floor at your eleven o’clock. That will be the placement point. Two is four windows to the south, same floor. Three is fifth floor, directly over the first window.”
“Must be to cover all the shooting lanes to the base.”
“Affirmative.”
“Okay, call them when you see them,” Stryker said, taking a few deep breaths and relaxing his shoulders.
Minutes passed with bot
h men watching the building, and baking in the sun. Stryker’s shirt was sweat-soaked and he wiped his forehead every few minutes to keep his vision clear.”
“We didn’t think about water,” Edwards said without looking away from the target.
Stryker remained silent.
“Target two. I have movement.”
Stryker swept the rifle to the south and shifted his feet so they stayed directly behind him. “Call the shot,” he said.
Another few minutes went by as Edwards focused on the window.
“Movement again,” he said.
“I hate taking the first shot in sniper duel,” Stryker sighed.
“They’ll be looking down at the base. The first one is free.”
“True.” Stryker detected movement through his scope, although it looked like it was coming from the middle of the room.
“Take the shot,” Edwards said.
Stryker again took a breath, exhaled, and gently squeezed the trigger. A roar followed, with the rifle bucking up slightly, and both men continued to watch the window. A black clad man appeared in the opening, and then dropped to the floor.
“Down, but can’t confirm the kill.”
“You hit a finger with this thing and the guy will bleed out,” Stryker replied.
“True.”
A barrage of gunfire began below them, with rounds puffing dust from the front of the commercial building. It stopped after a few seconds, when someone apparent got control of the trigger happy sailors.
“You ever notice that nobody listens to me.”
“Yeah, I have,” Edwards replied. “You want to move.”
“No, I’m going to keep firing until they fire back.”
“You want them to fire back?” Edwards said, for the first time lowering the spotting scope.
“Yes.”
“Why?” His voice was incredulous.
“We’re only going to find them if they fire. We got lucky on the first one. Now, they know we’re here and I’d rather have them fire at us. We’re outside their effective range and we’ll find them faster. If they fire on the base, which is within range, we might lose more people.”
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