Fire From The Sky | Book 12 | Embers

by Reed, N. C.

  “I think it’s amazing that Clayton hasn’t thought of this place as a defensive post,” Gail admitted.

  “Well, he’s got a lot on him,” Gordon shrugged. “And I could have reminded him about it, as could any of the rest of us. We’re just so used to it being here that none of us really think on it. But in our case at least, it’s about perfect. We can get comfortable and set up a watch around us. Let’s get to work.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Things were quiet for a time as the survivors of the battles so far took time to get reorganized. No one complained about that, using the time to strengthen their own positions and to resupply after the earlier actions.

  But now it seemed that quiet was at an end. The pressure against the line along the interstate had never really stopped, merely shifted from flank to flank. Clay had been surprised that no one had tried to go around, but Jose reminded him that the line was itself flanked by deep and thick briars and thickets that would make passage difficult at best, not to mention make enough noise for anyone to hear it.

  “Operations, this is Thug. We’re seeing Tangoes advancing on our position,” Clay heard over the radio.

  “Operations, this is Gunner. We are seeing the same, all along our line of sight.”

  “Thug, Gunner, roger that. Received.” Leon replied, looking at Clay to see if he had heard. Before Clay could even nod, the radio was speaking again.

  “Operations, this is Rattler. We’re seeing action as well. I count a minimum of twenty-five to our front. Hunting rifles, AKs, even a few shotguns, over.”

  “Operations this is Five-Oh,” Greg sounded grim. “We have a large group moving on us as well. Count is already at thirty and still rising.”

  “Where are all these people coming from?” Clay exclaimed. “Acknowledge. Weapons free. Engage at their discretion,” he added to Leon. The teen nodded and turned to the radio to relay orders.

  “We can find that out later, Clay,” Jose said softly. “Right now, we need to get rid of them. Either kill them all or kill enough of them that they withdraw.”

  “I know that,” Clay fought not to snap. Jose was just trying to help. “What can we do that we haven’t already done? We have a small reserve of four men and a medic. We need them everywhere, and we also need them in case somewhere fails. I don’t see a way to put them in action that doesn’t leave us hanging.”

  “The only thing I can think of is a flank attack,” Jose admitted. “Get someone in behind them and start working their way down the opposition line. If we play it right, we could be a quarter of the way or more through their formation before they even notice.”

  “And who do we send to do that?” Clay asked. “I like Gleason, and he says his men are solid, but I doubt they are up to that kind of combat. It’s just not their thing is all.”

  “Give me X, Rat, Thug and Zach. I’ll pick up Nate from the big bunker and swap Isaacson, Gleason’s medic, for Doc. We’ll take a pair of Hummers up the hill, maybe to the Plum House, and come in behind their left flank. I’ll give Zach a 240 to lug around, or maybe a 48. We’ll have all the firepower we need, right there.”

  “That’s a lot of gun to be ‘lugging’, Jose,” Clay noted softly.

  “He’s young,” Jose shrugged. “He can handle it. If not, Mitch can help him. Besides, anyone who can manhandle a Ma Deuce like he does can handle a Bravo with no trouble, let alone a 48. We’ll make it work.”

  Clay thought for mere seconds, though it seemed like days. Suddenly, he nodded once.

  “Go for it,” he ordered. “Make sure our southern front isn’t too weak to stand.”

  “Will do,” Jose promised. “I’ll send Gleason to you to take my spot. He’s rock solid.”

  “Do it,” Clay agreed. “Go.”

  -

  It took ten long minutes to get everyone situated, and even then, Shane Golden’s replacement had to be dropped off as the small procession went up the hill. Once Shane was on board, they continued on, stopping less than a mile past the Hill community. Jose had decided at the last minute to use electric carts rather than Hummers. While slower, the carts were quiet and easily hidden. And the loss of three golf carts, while annoying, would be nothing compared to the loss of two Hummers.

  The seven of them assembled alongside the road, Zach showing an easy familiarity with the light machine gun he was carrying, including an ammunition box beneath it. Jose had gone with the Mark 48 and Zach carried it easily. Everyone else was carrying rifles, in this instance the military grade M1A/M14 used by special operations groups. A solid rifle that fired the heavier 7.62mm cartridge rather than the standard 5.56mm of the M4. It was the weapon of choice for the group when they could justify using them.

  “We have a simple plan,” Jose told the assembled group. “We move east until we find their flank, then we roll it up and kill them all. Any questions?”

  “Do we have any idea who these people are?” Nate wanted to know.

  “None, and we can worry about that when we’re done,” Jose’s reply was fast. “Anything else? If not, we’re moving. Zach, take center with that machine gun. If it gets to be too much, sing out and let someone else handle it a while.”

  “I’m good,” Zach promised. “Let’s go.”

  With that, the seven of them started off at a brisk walk, looking for their enemy’s left.

  -

  “Sir, this line is paper thin,” Gleason said quietly. “I’m sure you know that, but it bears repeating.”

  “I do know,” Clay assured him. “I’m trying to keep a few people here and there in reserve that I can use to plug a break in our defenses. I have sharpshooters here, here and here,” he indicated the cupola and towers, “with orders not to engage until ordered or until there is a direct threat to them or those below. Another sharpshooter is here,” he indicated Leon’s old house, “but he does as he deems best. He’s an excellent shot and has a tremendous rifle, so his impact will be felt when he does choose to open fire. I have three in this bunker here I can pull if I absolutely have to,” he indicated the large bunker in front of the pad, “but I’d prefer to leave them there if possible.”

  “I notice the line to the east is a bit stronger,” Gleason pulled a finger along that particular area of the map. “I assume it’s been hit harder?”

  “Until now, yes. It’s possible they were trying to get us to pull men away from our southern line to reinforce the east, but we’ve managed not to do that. That has led us to strip our reserves bare, however,” Clay admitted with a frown.

  “You just sent seven top quality men off on a mission, sir,” Gleason reminded him. “They would have made a handy QRF.”

  “But they wouldn’t have been able to do as much damage as they might with this,” Clay shook his head. “Those men in particular have an excellent chance of getting behind our enemy and chewing them up. It’s what they do.”

  “Sounds good to me, sir.”

  -

  “This is Gates. I have a man down and we’re still under fire.”

  “Sir,” Elliot called, and Gillis nodded.

  “I heard,” he promised. “You should go and team up with the other medic running wounded, Raven. They might need you, and you’re worth far more as a medic than being stuck here running a radio.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the young woman smiled slightly at the compliment. “I’m gone.” She slipped out the rear door and into the still falling snow.

  “Mister Gates, we have help coming to you, so hold tight,” a new voice came over the air. Bodee, Gillis thought. Whatever help he could send, Gillis would gladly take it.

  “This is Witherspoon, Mister Bodee. Millard is down hard. He needs help right away, and we’re in a hell of a fight.” The report was punctuated with near constant gunfire.

  “Got it, Witherspoon. Be there shortly,” Bodee promised.

  “I’ll get Millard,” he heard Raven say, obviously running. “Will need transport, though, and help moving him.”

  “We ca
n get that for you, and thanks,” Bodee replied at once. “Get that, Isaacson?”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  Gillis was starting to feel like a fifth wheel.

  -

  Gordy Sanders arrived right after Raven Elliot, sliding into position with a smoothness that belied his age.

  Raven worked feverishly on the young man before her but feared her work would be for naught. Richie Millard had been hit with something large and likely steel-tipped, as it had torn through his vest and kept going. She warned those around her about that even as she tried to stem the bleeding and assess the damage.

  Meanwhile, Matt Kenny dropped into the far-right position, where he passed the still form of Keely Irvine. Damn. Keely was good people. He could spare no more time for such reflection as the position was under heavy fire and needed his full attention. Behind them all, Kevin Bodee stood with Kurtis Montana and Vicki Tully.

  “And then there were three,” Kevin noted. “We need to set up a backdrop position back here, I think. What we really need to do is close up and consolidate this line, but I don’t think we can hold the entire line if we do that. If we could get another Cougar up here with a fifty, we might could use it to anchor one end and Lieutenant Gillis’ to anchor the other. I am open to suggestions, by the way,” he looked at the two.

  “A consolidated line is definitely the way to go in my book,” Vicki said at once. “We don’t have to be crammed together to make it work, just all sharing the same line of sight. If we use the Cougar on the road as a center piece, then it adds strength to the line.”

  “Also lets people go right around us,” Kurtis said softly. “Kinda off my range, here, but I’d say we’re better off having a line of positions with two or three people each, spread out across here,” he motioned from north to south of their location. “One automatic weapon,” he nodded to Vicki’s machinegun, “and at least one rifle for security. Let the heavy lifters do the work. Back that Cougar down a ways and get that fifty engaged. Something like that might just break ‘em.”

  Kevin debated that for a moment, weighing both options. While Vic’s idea was appealing, it was also hamstrung with one fatal flaw, that being the one that Kurtis had pointed out. They couldn’t afford to allow people off behind them, even in small numbers.

  Kurtis’ idea wasn’t perfect, either, but it did have the advantage of being simple, quick to implement, and easily supported. That and getting the heavy machine gun involved in the fight. So far, their enemy had avoided the big gun. If the line were moved back some, and the Cougar with them, then Gillis would be able to get the Deuce in play. Kurtis was right about the psychological aspect of it as well. Watching your comrades chewed apart by a fifty-caliber weapon was a giant morale killer.

  “Honestly, both ideas have merit,” he said at last, looking toward where their people were engaged. “Kurtis’ plan does have the advantage of being spread out more and allowing us to cover most if not all of the area we need to. Not to mention, the chance to get the fifty in action. We’ll back off say…fifty to seventy-five yards. We’ll scratch out four spots as quick as we can. Logs, rocks, anything we can use to protect as well as conceal. Whatever we can manage in ten minutes or so. After that, we withdraw. I’ll go tell Gillis. He can go ahead and pull back so he can support the rest when they run for it.”

  -

  “Sounds like a plan,” Gillis nodded. “Let me know when you want us to pull back. It’ll feel good to let this thing speak after sitting here all morning just listening.”

  “We’re shooting for no more than ten minutes,” Bodee promised. With that he jumped down from the hatch and took off to assist his two minions.

  They weren’t hard to spot as they were currently using the winch on the front of the ATV to haul a large tree into place for a new defensive position. The snowblade quickly pushed as much of the frozen soil as the smaller vehicle could manage beneath the tree to help stop incoming fire from getting through. Heavy rocks finished the work, all done within five minutes.

  The two went straight to the next spot without pause, this one an uprooted tree that had left a deep wallow where the root system had been torn loose from the soil. Dirt was pushed into a berm around the wallow, along with whatever large rocks were available, making a passably strong ‘hasty fighting position’. A small cedar and two small pines were torn from the ground and placed in front of the position to help give it some minimal concealment.

  For twenty minutes this scene replayed itself all along the line, albeit with Kevin joining in. Hurried decisions on where to best place the next position, then hurried and frantic work to get them constructed before moving on to do it again. Finally, the three stopped to survey their work, all of them breathing a bit hard from the exertion but satisfied with their efforts.

  “Okay, time to start pulling back,” Kevin noted. During the time they had spent preparing emplacements, two more people on the line had been wounded. Talia Gray high in her left arm, Ellis Gates across the top of his right shoulder. Both were bleeders but had been swiftly and expertly treated in the field by Elliot and Isaacson.

  “You two find a place to set up shop to help cover their withdrawal,” Kevin ordered. “I’ll let Gillis know, and he can give the order once he’s in place to cover them. This will be about as far as we can go, so we have to hold here. At least with this line we can support one another. That should make it stronger.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Vicki promised. “Let’s go, Cowboy.” The two headed for a position they had already prepared for themselves, having left their gear and supplies there earlier while they were working.

  “Reckon this’ll work?” Kurtis asked as they settled into their own hole, checking their weapons and gear. Vicki had taken a page from Kurtis’ book and snagged herself an MP5 for close-in work, just in case.

  “Got to,” she shrugged. “We got nowhere else to go. We either hold here, or we die here. There are no other options.”

  Agreeing, Kurtis merely nodded. There wasn’t anything to add to that.

  -

  “Okay gang, we’re about to pull back,” Gillis said over the radio. “The Cougar has pulled back about fifty yards, which will let us cover your retreat. We haven’t been able to use the BMG to this point since they’re avoiding it. This move will change that.”

  “Don’t waste any time getting to your assigned spot. Remember, this is it. We hold here, because there’s nowhere else to go. So, dig in and be prepared to stay. Team leaders check in when you’re ready.”

  “Tanner, good to go.”

  “Witherspoon, good to go.”

  “Gates, ready.”

  Gillis waited for a lull in the action before giving the simple order;

  “All units, go!”

  -

  In a perfect world, everyone would have withdrawn without a problem, settled into their new positions, and held their enemy off with nothing but grit and determination.

  Unfortunately, this was not a perfect world.

  It might have been skill on the part of whoever was leading the attack on the farm. It could have been that something the defenders did tipped their enemy off and gave them a perfect opening to attack. It might have just been plain bad luck.

  Whatever the reason, the wood line on the east side the highway erupted with screaming men and women, all charging for the west side, supported by still others who were targeting the areas where defenders were known to be. For the first time the people attacking this area had done something smart and coordinated their attack.

  Talia Gray, already lightly wounded, took a round in the thigh just as they set off. Samuels and Tanner each caught an arm before she could fall and literally dragged her to their next post.

  Lyndon Witherspoon’s group was more fortunate. Having already lost Richie Millard, they managed to withdraw with their only injury being a bullet burn across Carol Kennard’s upper left arm. Bloody and painful to be sure, but not life threatening or even enough to pull the young woman
out of combat.

  Ellis Gates’ group, on the far right, were hit the hardest, with Gates himself being caught dead center in profile, where his armor didn’t provide complete coverage. The steel round went through him like a battering ram, tearing at everything it touched. Matt Kenny grabbed the rescue strap, sometimes darkly referred to as the ‘tag and drag handle’, located just below the neck of his vest and began dragging Gates with him. Heather Patton followed, using their Mark 48 to hose down anyone near them. She grunted as a round smashed into her left arm but kept firing, firing in short bursts so she could keep control of the weapon she was barely familiar with.

  Luck was with them at least partially as Brannon Howard saw them struggling. Telling Carly Isaacson and Raven Elliot to hold tight, he drove their ATV right into the fire, spinning to present their tailgate to the fleeing soldiers. The two medics yanked Gates’ body on board, followed by Kenny, who fell face down across Gates as a large caliber round smashed into his vest.

  Heather Patton was the last one aboard, being pulled up by the medics even as she continued firing.

  “Go, go, go!” Raven shouted, already trying to see how badly Kenny was injured while Carly worked to get to Gates. Brannon needed no encouragement, flooring the machine and weaving away from the area. Behind him, Heather rummaged through Gates’ pockets even as Carly tried to stop her. Ignoring the medic, Heather kept looking until she found what she was after. Arming the detonator immediately, she triggered the M18 mine left behind by Kevin Bodee, just as Gates had shown her. An echoing boom to their north signaled Gordy Sanders doing the same thing.

  “Don’t waste it!” Heather told Brannon. “Get us somewhere we can fight!”

  “On it!” he nodded, having never stopped moving. The ATV tore across the frozen ground toward the nearest spot from which this Amazon behind him could keep shooting.

  -