“Why did you not stay here?” the major demanded.
“The captain felt that a rear guard would be enough to hold the bridge, if we held the only town and militia base in the area,” Alex explained quickly. “The captain seemed to be worried about a potential counter-strike on our position if the townspeople were able to get organized.”
“Perhaps a wise notion against a suitable enemy,” the major sighed. “But these Miravallians are inferior in every aspect.”
“Yes, sir,” Alex agreed, eagerly waiting for the opportunity to choke the major on those words.
“Is the town still standing?” the major asked as he looked back across the bridge to the waiting forces.
“Mostly,” Alex replied.
“Good,” the major said with a grim smile. “The men could use a proper place to billet. It has been excruciating cutting an appropriate path through this backwards country. They could use some rest and maybe some companionship.”
Alex did not even want to know what the major meant by companionship, so he simply kept his mouth shut.
“Corporal Stillwell!” the major bellowed to one of the scouts, who was carrying a backpack that looked like it had a radio in it. “Radio tank command and advise them that they are to proceed across the bridge on my order.”
“Yes, sir,” the radioman responded, before relaying the major’s orders into a microphone.
26
Dag watched the conversation between Alex and the Dominion officer developing and felt better and better about their plan with every moment that went by without Alex getting shot. He could not make out their words, but the major’s voice was very clear when he shouted his orders to his radioman. He reached out and placed a hand on the detonator as the first tank lumbered its way across the bridge.
The bridge was not wide enough for the massive tanks to go more than one wide across the expanse, but they were each accompanied by at least a dozen infantrymen walking beside the tank and the tanks were coming one right after another. It could not have been set up any better for them, Dag thought to himself. There had to be at least forty tanks on the bridge as the first approached the southern end of the gorge. Just before the last tank was about to put its treads on solid ground, Dag pushed down hard on the detonator.
Nothing happened.
He tried it again, and again nothing.
“Dag!” Logan hissed. “The first tank is over the bridge!”
Dag tried the detonator a third time but it did not work. He looked back to his squad, who were bowing their heads with looks of defeat. “The hell with it,” Dag spat as he grabbed his rifle and sighted just as the second tank made it across the bridge.
Aiming down into the gorge and the tall steel structural supports that held up the bridge, he could just make out what looked like a small package with a wire running from it attached to the main support. Adjusting for the slight breeze, Dag inhaled, aimed and then fired just as the third tank was about to reach the southern side. The report echoed loudly across the gorge, but it was followed immediately by the colossal roar of an explosion and the groaning of steel bending and the ringing of support beams falling and bouncing off steel pillars on their way to the river below.
27
Alex could hear cries of terror from those on the bridge as the colossal weight of men and tanks split the unsupported bridge in half as moorings that connected the bridge to each side of the gorge broke away and the bridge tumbled and fell down the cliff faces spilling the remaining Dominion soldiers and tanks to the waters far below.
“What in the name of all the Gods?” the major wondered, his face awestruck by what he was witnessing.
As he turned back toward Alex, he saw that Alex had already drawn his pistol and the major too went for his weapon. Alex fired and the major fell to the ground, dead. The scouts who had already made it across the bridge along with two dozen infantry men who had accompanied the two tanks to make it safely across, all had expressions of incredulity as they watched the bridge collapse. Even as Alex and his squad of six men dressed in Dominion uniforms opened fire on them, most stood stock still for a moment, save for those who were hit and fell. It was not until a cry rose up from the woods and Aria and the rest of the militia emerged, firing, that the Dommies reacted.
Most made for the line of defenses that were in place, but between Alex’s squad to their north, sniper fire coming from the rock wall and Aria’s troops charging in hard from the south, they were annihilated. Very few made it to cover and would have easily been run over by Aria’s unit had it not been for the two tanks that had made it over the bridge. Their massive main cannons roared so cacophonously that Alex could not help but cover his ears as the blasts put a crater each into the field the Miravallian militia charged across, killing several of the Miravallians. Machine gun fire from the top mounted gun rattled as Alex was certain the main tank cannon was being reloaded.
“Dammit,” he muttered as he jumped from behind cover and raced the short distance from where his squad had taken position to where the nearest of the two tanks was firing at the militia.
With a running start, Alex dropped his rifle and leapt onto the side of the tank, using the treads as a foothold as he pulled himself up. The gunner on top of the tank never saw Alex, who drew his pistol and fired once into the gunner’s head. Kicking the dead body out of the way, he went to the center of the tank and twisted the wheel on top of the hatch until the entryway sprang open. He was greeted with a burst of machine gun fire from somewhere in the dark belly of the tank, and he flattened himself against the side of the opening. Removing a grenade from his belt, he armed the fuse, counted to three and then dropped it into the opening. He felt the rumble of the explosion underneath him as a column of black smoke and dust roared out of the opening.
Once the smoke had cleared, Alex rose to his knees and went to peer into the tank once more but found himself face to face with the double-barreled machine gun on the second tank, the Dommie gunner’s eyes locked onto him. Alex felt himself flinch, and his whole body froze as he knew what was surely going to come next. He heard the shot fired, but felt no impact, and instead saw the body of the gunner slump forward. Instinctively, he looked up to the left and the rock wall where his brother perched, his rifle trained on where the tank gunner had stood.
Not wasting any more time, Alex rolled off the top of the first tank and hit the ground hard. Drawing in a sharp breath, he got back up to his feet and began to creep toward the second tank, keeping the now out of commission first tank between him and his target. The main cannon on the tank roared a second time and was this time answered by a rocket propelled grenade which detonated against the tanks left tread, mangling the tread beyond functionality.
Knowing that they were likely waiting for him at the top hatch and that the tank’s main gun had to be disabled if they were to win the battle, Alex raced forward, dodging the flames that we still burning on the left side of the tank where the rocket had hit and moving toward the front where the cannon tubing projected away from the chassis. Grabbing another grenade off his belt, his last, he pressed the detonator and jumped high into the air. Using one arm to grab hold of the barrel, he used his free hand to force the grenade down the massive cannon’s mouth. He let go and ran back toward his squad’s position, feeling the force of the explosion as it knocked him over.
After a quick check to make sure he had not taken any shrapnel, Alex got to his feet and then dove behind the cover his squad was using. Looking back, he saw that the tank cannon had been completely severed by the explosion, rendering the defanged and wheel-less tank as a rather large paperweight. Letting loose a sigh of relief, Alex allowed himself to think for the first time that they had done it. Winning the battle was only a matter of time.
Those few remaining Dommies seemed to realize their plight as well and they were offering to surrender within a minute of their two tanks being taken down. The Dominion forces still stuck on the northern side of the ravine attempted to inte
rvene, launching a salvo of fire from their remaining tanks, but it was to no avail. The distance across the ravine was too great for the weapons to cross, and the shots ended up hitting the cliff wall one hundred feet below them. The range was also too far for snipers to do anything but get extremely lucky, but just in case, Alex ordered everyone into the trees, prisoners included.
Once under the cover of the thick woods, the prisoners were bound, bodies of the fallen Miravallians were buried, and prayers were said. They had lost another eight men and women in the battle, most of whom were killed by the tank fire. Alex regretted all who had met their end under his command, but he could not help but feel elated by the victory. Their little band of Miravallian militia had just dumped forty tanks and somewhere near five hundred infantry to their deaths in the river below. They had captured another ten Dommies and that was to say nothing of their victories at Harren Falls two nights before or at the Dominion camp last night. They had captured enough Dominion equipment to outfit a small army, and maybe they would be able to salvage the major’s jeep and the two tanks once darkness fell and it was safe to sneak back into the exposed Dominion camp. None of that equaled the relief he felt at knowing that they had made their home safe for at least a little while.
28
Dag had shared a few words of congratulations with his squad, before asking Pendleton and Logan to remain at the edge of the woods and try to keep an eye on what the Dommies across the gorge did. It might serve them well later to know if the Dominion was going to fall back down the northern Crest or if they intended to hold the position across the gorge. They could also help Tangrit, the only one in the militia who had ever driven a tank before, and Torrace to scavenge supplies and the vehicles once night fell.
Moving to the head of the column with Kayleigh, Dag led them to a trail through the woods and soon they were marching under the sun once more, headed down the road back to Harren Falls. The march had been mostly done in silence. Even as jubilant as the militia was for its second victory in as many days, exhaustion permeated their numbers. Dagger, Alex, and Aria along with anyone else who had seen any action the first night felt it even more.
“No offense intended, sir, but you look like hell,” Kayleigh observed.
Dag laughed quietly. “I feel like I could sleep for a few days,” he said. “Are you doing all right?”
“I survived,” she replied.
“There’s more to war than just surviving,” he said. “Tangrit has taught all of us that lesson. He came back home from the first war, but he certainly hasn’t moved on. Seven hells, it took him a new war just to lay off the bottle for a few minutes. You can’t just survive; you have to keep living.”
Kayleigh nodded. After a few moments, she said in a quiet voice, “I thought it would be more difficult to kill someone.”
“We weren’t given a lot of options,” Dag pointed out.
“All the same,” she began to protest.
“I know what you mean,” Dag said, cutting off her argument before it started. “I’d never considered killing another person before a few days ago, and I don’t know exactly how I feel about it either. But I ask myself: would I rather it was me? Would I rather it was my brother? My little sisters? My town? My country? The answer is no, and I can take solace in that.”
“I hope that’s enough,” she replied quietly.
Dag put a gentle arm around her shoulder as they walked and said as reassuringly as possible, “You did great out there. And you did the right thing.”
29
Not too long thereafter, the advancing column met Torrace who began ferrying militia and prisoners alike back to the town in the few vehicles he and his quartermaster corps had requisitioned. Alex went first so that he could supervise secure placement of the prisoners. Since the jail cells were full, he had the Dommies locked in the cells in the Headquarters’ basement.
Captain Beaurigar, ecstatic to see that the plan had been brought to fruition, was equally happy to see one of the Dommie prisoners had a full set of radio equipment with him and eagerly confiscated it. He advised Alex that he would take it back to his office and see if he could get into communication with the brass and that Alex would need to supervise sentry deployments and rotate the militia men in for periods of rest.
After deciding a dozen spots that could use a pair of eyes, Alex sent the first carloads of militia out on guard duty with the promise that they would be relieved in four hours. With each new arrival of battle fatigued militia soldiers, he assigned them a watch time and then sent them home to sleep if their home was close enough or told them to make camp in the Headquarters training yard. There were already a few tents set up, and the men and women of the militia were so tired that sleeping on the ground was not going to be difficult.
Torrace’s truck pulled up with the last group to be evacuated which Alex was not surprised included Dag, Aria and Tangrit. “Welcome back, brother,” he called to Dag. “That was a nice shot on the tank gunner.”
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Dag replied as he hopped out of the back of the truck.
“Tangrit, I’m sure you’re tired, but if you could accompany Torrace back to the Dominion camp, I would like to see if we can secure those tanks and any other equipment left behind after the battle,” Alex said to the old veteran before he could jump out of the back of the truck.
“Ugh,” grunted the grizzled veteran.
“You won’t be able to move into the camp until nightfall,” Dag pointed out, “You can get some sleep in the truck before moving through the woods. In fact, you’ll need a scout to go with you and bring you to where Pendleton and Logan are waiting.” He turned to Alex and said, “I should probably go with them.”
“If it’s all the same to you, sir, I can do it,” Kayleigh said from the back of the truck. “You need the rest a little more than any of us.”
Alex looked at the large black circles under his brother’s eyes and said, “She has a point.”
“Alright, be careful,” he said to Kayleigh.
“We’ll see you later tonight,” Alex added to Tangrit, who nodded curtly.
Torrace threw a wave as he backed the car up, turned around and headed back down the road. Once the car was gone, Alex said to Dag and Aria, “Why don’t you two head back to the neighborhood and catch some rest at home? The yard is pretty crowded at the moment and Kayleigh was right, you two have been through a lot in the past three days. Get as much rest as you can.”
“What about you?” Dag asked.
“I’m going to stick around just in case Captain Beaurigar needs me,” he replied. “I’ll grab some shut-eye in the HQ.”
Dag nodded, drew himself up and saluted, as did Aria. “Well planned,” Dag said after Alex returned the salute.
Alex allowed himself a small smile and said, “Well fought.”
30
Dag and Aria made their way from the National Guard Headquarters, walking down the single lane road over to their neighborhood on the west side of town. That section of town had not been touched by the fighting and save the absence of people wandering around the streets, doing laundry, working on their gardens in the back yard or sitting on their front porches, it could have been a normal day in Harren Falls.
“Gods, I could sleep for a week,” Dag said as they turned down a cross street. His stomach then grumbled loudly enough for both of them to hear. “But maybe I should eat something first.”
Aria laughed, a beautiful throaty laugh. She turned to Dag and smiled, but said nothing. She seemed to think the smile was saying something that words would not convey, but Dag was perplexed. They arrived at his house and Dag walked first over to where the deer he killed a few days ago was still hanging. Flies had gathered all around it and a rotten smell was coming from the carcass.
“Shame,” Dag said. “I killed this one for nothing.”
Frowning, he walked over to the well and pulled the bucket up. He dipped a clay ewer into the bucket to provide some drinking water and
then dumped the rest of the bucket over his head.
“It wasn’t that long ago that you were standing out here mostly naked,” Aria observed as she watched Dag and chewed on her lower lip.
“I’m not one to be self-conscious,” he replied as he stripped off his soiled shirt and jacket and threw it over a clothesline.
“That was one of the things I liked about you, Dag,” she said as she dropped the bucket back down the well and then worked the wheel until a full bucket was back in her hands. Dumping the bucket over herself, she then also began to strip and throw her clothes onto the line, not stopping until she was down to her underwear. Her eyes had not left Dag though. “It was simpler a few days ago,” she said. “I was just a girl with a crush on a quiet boy. Now, I’m scarred and ugly.”
Dag stepped forward and touch her cheek gently where a red line from the wound creased her face. “You’re not ugly,” he said.
She laughed softly as if trying to deflect his words. “I wasn’t pretty before the battle,” she said, averting her eyes from him for a moment.
Dag leaned in gently to kiss her, and she moved with an explosive energy to meet his lips with hers. With near frantic desperation, Aria reached her hands into Dag’s hair, grabbed the back of his head, and held his mouth against hers. When they at last broke the embrace, Aria wrapped her arms around Dag’s neck and jumped up, wrapping her legs around Dag’s back.
“Take me inside,” she whispered urgently, before leaning in to kiss him again, as he carried her toward his house.
31
As tired as he was, Captain Beaurigar was not able to sleep. He had spent several hours working on the captured radio, trying to get a signal from the main Miravallian army. His ragtag group of volunteers had accomplished the incredible, finding a way to defend their home against impossible odds, but he had needed to know what was happening elsewhere in the country. The television station was only broadcasting static and the civilian radios were completely silent. Now, he wished he was still operating in ignorance.
Partisan (The Invasion of Miraval Book 1) Page 11
