Midnight Skills

by William Allen

  “Don’t worry, Dwayne, I’ll hold your hand, so you don’t get lost,” Luke replied, his voice deadpan.

  “Not worried about getting lost, Sarge, but I don’t want to have to go to bed without my nightlight plugged in. You know how it is, don’t you?”

  They were clowning for the other men in the squad, and everyone knew it. Luke knew his folks were getting tense as more time passed and nothing happened. While he lacked the formal training, Luke picked up enough along the way to realize they were biting off more than they could chew on this mission. A quick strike with a picked crew, staged to take advantage of the confusion, was one thing. In and out, while the big boys slugged it out. That was how Bishop described the proposed raid.

  Now though, the trucks were late, and the major wanted Luke and his boys to serve as a tripwire, while the bulk of the two platoons waited as the reaction force. Luke knew Bishop had a similar setup to the north, with an eight-man team spread out and watching the approaches, and he wondered if their squad leader was as worried as Luke.

  So far, their small force remained unchallenged, though with the free-for-all going on just a few miles away, he wondered how long that might last.

  “You think we can go back to working for Lt. Fisher, after this is over?”

  Dwayne’s serious question caught Luke off-guard, and he turned to the other man with a curious look.

  “Why not?” Luke asked.

  “I mean, if we get Chambers here, then the war’s over, right?”

  The corporal’s words gave Luke additional clues. If the war was truly over, then the first soldiers cut loose would be the guard troops.

  “Dwayne, when this is over, if it is ever over, then I want you and the boys to think about coming back with me to the ranch. My father said we were still okay for food into the spring planting. Not great, but nobody is starving, and I know we could use the help.”

  “That include the whole squad?” Dwayne asked, his voice almost too soft to hear.

  “Yeah, that includes everybody,” Luke confirmed. “I don’t imagine Eddie will stick around for long, since he still has family in Kansas, and Abbie will likely be going with him,” the sergeant confided, “but you guys are all welcome. I’ve already cleared it with my father.”

  “So, your dad really does run the show in your neck of the woods?” Dwayne asked, his words measured. As he spoke, he kept the binoculars pressed against his face. “I mean, I’ve heard people talk. He’s like royalty in East Texas now. Got his own army and everything. Not sure if I want to keep doing what we’ve been doing, and then there’s the whole race thing.”

  Luke thought about what his friend said. He’d heard rumblings before he left, that Sheriff Henderson wanted his father to run for governor once the dust cleared, but Luke didn’t see that happening. Sam Messner was too goal-oriented, and his goal remained focused on the survival of his family, and the ranch. Sam might only consider such a position, if becoming governor improved the conditions in his community. Well, that might actually happen, Luke mused, and he filed the thought away for later.

  “I won’t kid you, Dwayne. Even if we hang Chambers and his whole Committee, things are still going to be bad for a long time,” Luke confided. “It would be nice to have more trained men, but you’ve met my dad. He act like any king you’ve ever heard about?”

  “I don’t know, maybe King Kong,” Dwayne finally admitted. “It’s just, you know, the country seems to be dividing up even more than before. I know you think everything will be fine for us black folks in your area, but I don’t want to have people constantly eyeballing me because of the color of my skin.”

  Luke couldn’t deny what Dwayne said was true. All over the country, Luke saw neighbor turning on neighbor, and race certainly seemed to play a part. Whites allied with whites, blacks with other blacks, and the same with the Hispanics. In some instances, the barriers between communities were subtle, while all too many times, the lines were clearly drawn. And then there were the atrocities nobody wanted to talk about.

  “Dwayne, while I haven’t been home in months, I doubt things have changed much in my absence. My father has his prejudices. He’ll be the first to admit them. For whatever reason, he doesn’t much care for people from the northeast, and he particularly dislikes anyone from Boston,” Luke explained, holding up a hand as if he were swearing on a Bible. “But he spent too long in the Marine Corps to let something like race color his judgment. I’ve heard it said, everybody in the Corps is the same shade of green, and that’s the way my dad approaches things.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” Dwayne agreed. “He looks down on me not because I’m black, but because I don’t have that Eagle, Globe, and Anchor tattoo.”

  “You got it,” Luke agreed, then his expression turned serious. “But one thing I’ve got to warn you about, all kidding aside. I like you and I think you’re a good guy, but you’re not allowed to date my sister.”

  Corporal Dwayne Silcott lowered the binoculars and cut his eyes to the sergeant. Here it comes, Silcott thought with a touch of sadness. It always comes down to family in the end. Then Luke continued, and Dwayne felt his face turn red with another emotion.

  “Yeah, man, not going to happen,” Luke continued. Then, forcing a smile to go along with his fake outraged tone, Luke wagged his finger in the other soldier’s face. “She’s only thirteen, for God’s sake. So shame on you!”

  All right, then. Dwayne nodded, trying not to laugh out loud after being royally punked by his squad leader. Maybe he’d give Ripley a look after all.

  After spending too long shooting the bull with Dwayne, Luke slid down the line of improvised fighting positions and checked on his people. The ground, frozen solid, precluded digging any kind of holes, so Luke’s troops found downed tree trunks, abandoned vehicles, or in the case of Corporal Castillo, even a small rock pile to use as ballistic coverage.

  Luke crawled over to the older soldier and leaned back against wooden sawhorse propped against the gravel pile, once again aware of the weight dragging him down. They’d taken turns retrieving their big packs from the cache point, and as much as Luke wanted to shed the extra pounds, he knew he had to set the example. If any of the men got separated, Luke knew the packs contained enough to keep them alive for a week out in the wilds. As for Luke, he knew he could survive almost indefinitely with what he’d packed this time, so he made a point of keeping an eye on his gear.

  “Cold enough for ya?”

  “Jeez, Sarge, you’re kidding, right?” Eddie replied, hunkering down close behind his M-240B. The general-purpose machine gun hadn’t done the guards at the gate much good, Luke thought, but he had no doubt the serious-minded Corporal Castillo would do fine with the weapon.

  “Just making the rounds, checking to see if you’re still awake.”

  “Not like I can get much shut-eye, the way the neighbors are squabbling,” Eddie retorted. Luke knew what he meant. They’d all noticed an increase in the volume of fire across the river in the last two hours, but if anybody on their limited radio network knew more about the conditions there, they weren’t sharing with the rest of the class.

  “I haven’t really asked anybody, but how bad was it in the barracks?” Luke inquired. He should have asked before, but the pace of events had simply overtaken him.

  Eddie looked away, then squared his shoulders.

  “That captain, Bishop, his guys did most of the killing,” Eddie finally said. “Took out the men holding the elevator complex as easy as pie, then swept through the two barracks buildings. Major Keller and your father got us into position to watch for squirters, but none of them made it out of the building. I know we aren’t set up for prisoners, but they, you know.” Eddie paused. “Bishop’s men just went around inside and killed all the wounded. Kenzie was mad at first, until one of the Special Forces guys took him and your father over to see the body dump.”

  “I didn’t know…” Luke all but whispered, and Eddie nodded.

  “Bishop’s
guys knew about it. I guess he didn’t think we needed to know. Sergeant Roland told me they’d interrogated one of the wounded guards before capping him. Whenever the elevators received a shipment of grain, they also got some men, farmers mainly, sent in to handle the transfer. Run the machinery, shovel the spill, stuff like that. Shipped them in with their families, told them they were going to a relocation camp where they could start spring planting.” Eddie swallowed convulsively before speaking again. His words came out raw and terse.

  “I went over later and looked in the pit. Shouldn’t have. Full of snow, but you could still make out the shapes from the last load. Men, women, and even the children down in that hole. Just like what I saw back in Kansas.”

  “I just don’t understand how they can do it,” Eddie said plaintively. “How can they stoop to killing innocents like that? I guess that explains why the stormtroopers fight so hard. They don’t have any mercy left in them, so they know not to expect it.”

  “Fucking animals,” Luke murmured in agreement, adjusting his helmet yet again, before responding to his corporal’s comment. “We’ve seen them fight like cornered rats before,” Luke continued, “especially their Homeland troops. They are the bullyboys to keep the conscripts in line. They might be the scum of the earth, but they fight hard. Reminds me of what I read about the Waffen SS in World War Two.”

  Silence stretched out for the next few minutes while the two men scanned the distance. Even with the dawning of the new day, the heavy cloud cover made visibility less than ideal. The drab gray of dreary winter wore on both men as much as the topic of their conversation.

  “You think we’ll ever go back to like it was before?” Eddie’s question caught Luke off-guard, and he sat for a moment to consider his answer. He thought about his conversation with Dwayne, and realized the men were beginning to finally start thinking ahead. Looking for something besides the bloody grinder of the frozen battlefield. Luke wanted to say something comforting, but he knew Castillo didn’t need any bullshit.

  “Some places,” Luke finally conceded, “will eventually reach some kind of normalcy. I hear some people talking about a ‘new normal’, but it will be erratic, I think.”

  “Like what your family is trying to do,” Eddie observed. “Getting agriculture and light manufacturing back on line while building a credible defense force is pretty darned impressive.”

  “There’s a place there for you, and Abbie, if you want it,” Luke said evenly, trying to make the offer seem like a small thing. “I’m extending the same invitation to everyone in the squad, just so you know. When this latest round of fighting is over, and the Army deactivates us.”

  “You mean, decides they can’t feed us anymore?” Eddie said with a snort. “What the hell are you doing here, Luke? I know, I heard the scuttlebutt, and I’m sorry for your loss.” Eddie let his condolences hang for a long moment before continuing, “but I see the way your father acts around you. Him and the other guys from your hometown. They are all proud of you, but I don’t see any of them forcing you to enlist. You’re not like the rest of us. You had options, you know.”

  Luke stifled a chuckle before replying.

  “Force me? Hardly.” He let the silence grow between them for one second, then another, before he spoke again.

  “I left because I was afraid of what I was turning into, Eddie. I was like the coyote with his leg caught in a trap. I was ready to chew my leg off, lashing out at anybody who was trying to help,” Luke admitted bitterly.

  “My father was suffering worse than I was, but I couldn’t help him or myself. And worst of all, I was terrified I might hurt the one person who was most important to me. So, I figured I’d turn a little bit of that anger into something useful. Amy hated to let me go, but I think she understands me better than I understand myself.”

  Eddie furrowed his brow, concentrating.

  “I don’t know that I’ve ever seen you really angry, Luke. Or scared. Honestly, and it pains me to say this, but I just had you pegged as someone who enjoyed the killing.”

  “Oh, trust me, I still having feelings. I just keep them bottled up tight, until they overflow,” Luke replied, unoffended by Eddie’s stark admission.

  Luke knew a bit about Eddie Castillo. He’d seen his own share of atrocities in this grim new world, and he too, was driven by something of a vengeful spirit. After spending time with the man in some tight circumstances, Luke found the onetime mechanic and now soldier to be someone he could talk to, without the usual filter he kept in place.

  “Losing my mother, and my friends, the way we did, well, that was just the trigger. I wanted to make them pay, make them all pay, for what they’ve done.”

  No need to specify who he meant by ‘they’. The shadowy organization run by Jeffery Chambers, the Recovery Committee, acted with complete disregard for the Constitution or even common decency in this naked power grab. Chambers might have been the voice of the Committee, but the man couldn’t have succeeded to this point without powerful backers.

  Luke already knew some of the names, thanks to the encrypted messages contained on the hardened laptop recovered from Congressman McCorkle’s estate. Other politicians, as well as powerful money men, and more than a few generals were corresponding with the late Congressman. Where they fit in the Committee’s hierarchy wasn’t always clear, but to Luke, they all deserved a date with the hangman’s noose. Nothing else would do.

  “Yeah, I gotta admit, I am happy to kill their willing minions,” Eddie said forcefully, “but I would love to get my hands on some of the Committee members themselves. But what about the rumors we’ve been hearing about some kind of negotiated settlement?”

  “You can’t negotiate with terrorists,” Luke replied simply. He let those words sink in before picking up the thread of the conversation. “I know some people are tired of the fighting, but we can’t stop now. Some things can’t be forgiven, or overlooked, for the sake of temporary expediency.”

  “What if our generals order a ceasefire, without rooting out the rest of the Committee? Or if some of the state governors or their surrogates decide to recognize the territory held by the Committee? What do we do then?”

  Luke thought about Eddie’s words for a moment, then turned his head to regard the corporal. Luke knew the man was simply playing Devil’s Advocate, but the idea still didn’t sit well with the teen. No better than it sat with the questioner, Luke reasoned. Eddie had as good a reason as any to carry his hate in his front pocket.

  “I’ll just keep doing what I’ve been doing, Eddie,” Luke confided. “Forget that stuff they teach in Sunday school. Some people are beyond redemption. They just need killing, like rabid dogs. Hell, Abbie ain’t the only one with a sniper rifle.”

  Whatever Eddie might have said in response was lost when Cameron, manning the observation post out by the highway, broke in with a hurried transmission over the unit push.

  “We got bogeys inbound,” Cameron reported. “Five MRAPs in single file, buttoned up and loaded for bear. ETA at the roadblock in three minutes.”

  “Copy, Shamrock Three,” Luke replied immediately. “Be ready to close the door.”

  Releasing the PTT switch, Luke cast a quick glance over at Eddie. In the background, he could hear Major Keller and Captain Bishop issuing orders, but he paid them little mind. Luke knew his role, and what his squad would be forced to endure.

  Glancing at Eddie, Luke tried to offer a bit of last minute advice before he needed to move.

  “You know you can’t penetrate their armor, so aim for the CROWS mounts. Try to fuck them up and be ready to move. Wait for my signal before engaging.”

  Eddie nodded his head before replying.

  “Roger. What about Abbie?”

  “Don’t know. Wish we had enough folks to give her a spotter.” Luke paused, thinking. “I’ll send Frank. I’m sure Major Keller gave him some training for the job. That’s if her rifle will even do any good. Doubt it,” Luke continued with a shrug. “I’ll let her tak
e the shot if she has it, and we’ll see. All we can do.”

  Eddie knew this. He also knew their plan, or at least, his part of it.

  “Keep your head down, Luke, and we’ll continue this conversation later.”

  “Later,” Luke agreed, forcing his voice to stay calm.

  Like a dash of freezing water splashed in his face, Luke suddenly recalled the last time he’d feared for his own safety. Memories of the chaotic running gun battle outside Kountze came rushing back, and he suppressed the shiver. He’d failed, and friends died, so he would have to do better this time.

  Luke and his people had things to live for, dammit, and he was going to either succeed, or go down fighting. He had no choice. None of them did.

  CHAPTER 66

  Cold sweat trickled down Luke’s forehead while he peered through his binoculars, causing the young man to pause and wipe ineffectually with the sleeve of his white smock. He knelt behind an ice-wrapped pickup truck, permanently stalled on the shoulder of the narrow strip of roadway leading to the elevator complex at his back. In the daylight, the mass of the row of linked, hundred-foot-tall structures seemed to loom over the riverbank, and Luke’s own paltry force.

  Luke claimed the most exposed position, on the roadway and in front of the lead vehicle, where he could see the layout of the ambush site and adjust his men as needed. He was aware of his father’s protests, but the situation unspooled too rapidly for the man to do more than register his opposition. Plus, the man was leading the backup element and was too winded from the long sprint in the snow to do more than mutter vague threats. Luke was sure if he survived, his father would make a point of expressing his ire in much more detail.

  “Fifty yards,” he whispered over the radio, alerting his men as the force approached their kill sack. The six-wheeled MRAPs proceeded in an arrow formation, with one in front and two abreast and thirty yards to the rear, with the last two trucks again, in single file with an equal cushion in between. Once again, Luke wished they had armored vehicles of their own. Or AT4s. Hell, after he’d seen what they could do, he would have settled for a battery of heavy mortars.