by T J Reeder
From the papers we did gather that the folks trying to form this workers’ paradise were a large bunch of former congressional types who spent a long time hiding in underground shelters built just for them in the event of an….event? Now they figured things were settled enough for a takeover and it was members from both parties.
They had elected one of their own as president and set about rebuilding the government into something more in keeping with their ideas. The Constitution was set aside for the duration of the emergency (that sounded familiar). I could see this bunch of idiots had stayed underground way too long and had no idea what had transpired while they lived the good life in their velvet prison with a great wine cellar.
Now we were faced with how to handle these people, and I admit I’m flat out of ideas. They are a long ways away from us but they seem to have plenty of air power, choppers anyway, although they now have a lot less. After the place was cleaned up and the weapons passed out to those who needed better than they had, we decided to head to another area away from here so the buzzards could come to dinner. We settled in at a city park that had working pitcher pumps for fresh water and set up a camp for the night.
I called Kid over and asked her to look at the logistics of dealing with an enemy in the DC area. She smiled and said, “Already working on it, dad.” I love this kid. Then she said, “In driving miles we are about 1,100 miles from DC.” I got a chill. If we were that far from DC, then the choppers these folks were using were based a hell of a lot closer than I had thought. No, that’s not true. I didn’t think, and that’s one of my problems of late. I forget that what we can do unto others they can do to us! And with that I yelled for everybody to get moving, scatter out and get under cover. One thing about us folks that have been out here fighting to stay alive just one more day- not one person stood there with their thumb up their butt asking, “WHY?”
Within minutes every vehicle was rolling and scattering to the wind. Me and mine were running full out into the alleys of the mostly destroyed city. We headed into a parking garage but stayed on the ground floor and as close to the entry as possible. Several others followed us inside.
Charley ran up to me and said, “Let’s get the jeep unloaded, get those fifties out and find a good spot to shoot from” and we did that. Sandy fired up the jeep and scooted out of the trailer while May and Kid were unpacking belts of ammo. The fifties were going to be our best tool if they came in choppers or light armor. I only hoped some of the other people had more than small arms.
I felt like running into a wall head first over the lapse in my thought process, but Beth reminded me that I wasn’t the only one who forgot to think about it. Charley agreed as did everybody around us. In the meantime we needed to get to a good fighting position, but I sure didn’t want to be on the roof of this place in case they had heavy firepower- hell, a few rockets into this area and we were toast. For now we needed to be low and quiet. We settled down and waited and watched while the day waned into night and nothing came. But I didn’t think for a moment we were getting off that easy. They were looking, probably with night vision gear, so we remained well back from the places where we might be seen. The night wasn’t our friend for now. I was comforted that the choppers we shot up didn’t have rockets on them although they did have door guns and those were just old M-60’s, so maybe we weren’t too outgunned.
I heard a whisper of conversation and headed for Charley, who was talking to a scout who had been out checking the area. He reported the sound of distant choppers and had seen search lights wandering back and forth looking for movement. He had no idea how many we were facing, but he believed it wasn’t more than five or six.
I knew one thing for sure; we couldn’t just sit here like gophers in a hole waiting for them to find us. We needed to draw them into a ‘fire sack’ and blow them out of the sky. But we needed bait to do that and we needed it to be away from our transport. Charley asked the scouts if they had seen anything we could use and one said he had.
He saw another park full of trees and underbrush and it looked like the kind of place people on the run might hide. Charley sent four scouts with him to really check it out and make sure nobody was hiding in there and to find good spots for the 50’s to set up with good fields of fire.
In less than two hours they were back saying they had encountered people hiding in the park and told them to move as it was gonna be hot damn soon. They said there were several taller buildings all around the area that would make good gun emplacements and there was a three story parking garage close by that would be outstanding for the jeep with the mini-gun and it had a ramp going to ground level if they needed to haul ass. Sandy reminded him ladies never ‘simply haul ass’, they do it with style. Being one of the few who wasn’t a bit scared of Them he smiled and said, “Well, if we get some ladies, they can abandon ship in style, but the rest of you best be hauling ass!”
That brought a good laugh , which was needed since so many of the people in here weren’t used to the kind of shit we have seen. Sandy promised to look him up later. May agreed, but Kid said she thought he had a valid point, which got more laughs and threats for later from Them.
I figured we could head out when the scouts reported the choppers heading back for fuel and another load of troops (if they were bringing troops). It wasn’t long in coming: They were leaving within an hour telling me they had to fly a ways to refuel and return, cutting into their time over target. As soon as they moved out we did, too. Within an hour we were settled into our new locations around the park. The girls were on the roof of the parking garage under some camo netting with a very good field of fire and perfect range for the buzz saw. As security for them I placed three SAW’s on the roof at the corners with ropes over the side, in case the gunners had to move fast they could fast-line down. I didn’t like it but it was the best we could do. For that reason I didn’t put loaders with the gunners- one could just abandon the gun and zip down faster than two could. And if it went well they wouldn’t be needed; they were just me buying insurance for my ladies.
We had one old guy who said he would hide in the park and talk over a 5 watt to see if they had direction-finding equipment. If so, it would draw them in. He said he was too old to run and this was better than being in the way. Tough old man- the kind who built this country.
About first light we heard them coming back, and the old man started calling. He would call and wait like he wasn’t getting an answer, then he’d call again. That didn’t seem to be working too well, and I was trying to come up with another plan when a column of smoke started drifting above the trees. The old devil was drawing them in the hard way.
It took a bit, but somebody spotted the smoke and the choppers headed right at us- all five of them that we could see. They spread out and one approached real slow with the door gunners hanging out… and then one of them got hit hard in the chest and the cockpit got sprayed by what had to be an AK. From no more than 100 yards the old guy was just shredding the bird. He had to have had a 75 round drum because he never let up on his shooting and he killed that bird like it was a duck coming in to a decoy set-up. It went out of control, headed up and away, then nosed right over and went in head first and blew up. The rest went crazy and headed in with all guns blazing and never once thought they might be getting baited.
It was a turkey shoot for us. My first shot with the fifty wasn’t more than 100 yards away, I could have spit on the bird, and the round hit the pilot in the chest and just took him apart. The co-pilot was blinded with blood and lost it, they were so low they flew right into the trees on the edge of the park and the blades beat themselves to death along with the chopper, it rolled over and fell on its back but didn’t burn. Before I got my eyes off the one I killed the others. Three were down or trailing smoke away followed by the big fireballs of the tracers, which were hitting their targets. And then it was quiet, just the sound of the gun barrels cooling off.
Then the silence was broken by the sounds of that AK ag
ain and we watched the survivors of the one I downed dropping to their knees with their hands on their heads. I had to smile because out of the trees stepped the old man! He had made it and caught some prisoners we really needed to talk to. Charley sent some of his lads to collect them and bring them back.
We quickly cleared out of the area and headed back to the parking garage where most of the rest of the escapees were staying out of sight. They had heard the fight and the choppers blowing up but still couldn’t believe just a few people could do all that damage. It’s easy with the right people.
When the scouts returned with the three prisoners from the downed chopper the survivors looked scared to death, which of course I could understand. They were surrounded by people they tried to murder and life can be a black-hearted bitch at times like this. I wanted them terrified!
I walked over to them and noted the co-pilot and both door gunners had made it out in pretty good shape. They were kneeling on the concrete and were trying to act brave but it wasn’t working. All three were young; they looked like they should be borrowing daddy’s car to take their girlfriend out for a date. One had a really bad cut on his head so I decided to try a different approach. I called for a medic (sounds more military than yelling, “Hey, Bones!”) and one trotted over. I pointed out the cut, and he looked at me like I was crazy and said, “Why bother, John? You’re just gonna shoot ‘em anyway because they won’t talk, right?”
I would have kicked him, except the co-pilot said, “Hey! Wait! What do you want to know?” I exchanged looks with the tanker mechanic who smiled and went to work on the kid who was bleeding.
I told Doc to take his victim away to sew him up. That made the kid get all owl-eyed. Sandy and May both chimed in and asked if they could sew him because they had missed that class. I thought the kid was gonna die of shock. At any rate they went off with Doc and the scared kid. Charley said something and his scouts took the other one away; he was so scared he couldn’t walk.
I told the pilot to sit down and get comfy and tossed him a cold beer, which made him look like he had died and gone right to the big saloon in the sky. I think he swallowed one time and it was gone. Beth handed him another one and smiled at him. I think he was ready to tell her all his secrets; hell, I do all the time when she smiles. She turned and smiled at me and I got all weak-kneed. She walked past, bumped me and whispered, “Later baby”, and now my knees really were getting weak.
I sat down and said, “OK, son. Tell me everything.” He said, “You mean like when I was born and all that?” All the troops standing there laughed, which made him blush. He really was just a kid. Where were these people recruiting? Middle school? I smiled and said, “Well let’s start with today and work back, OK?” He said, “OK” and got to it.
It seems in anticipation of bringing law and order to this area (meaning after they killed off all the opposition), his commanders had set up an F.O.B. (forward operations base) and manned it with several choppers (of which we had killed nine, or maybe ten) and about a hundred troops to make a bridgehead for further ops. I sat a moment and said, “Really?”
He nodded and I just shook my head and asked if he thought ten birds and a hundred troops could accomplish anything? He said, “Well they did think that, but I guess not, huh?” I almost felt sorry for these people: Not their leaders, just the troops who didn’t have a clue what they were facing.
I asked him where they had their main base? I expected him to say DC but he said that DC was a burned-out hulk as was most of the area including New York City. He said something had happened in Chicago and they had moved from there to Richmond because it was in good shape. The Washington leadership had sent troops there to hold the city and keep peace as a fall-back for the plan they were now working on. It made me think maybe they really hadn’t spent years underground.
The kid’s name was Blain Creed and he was from an old southern family that had been in Richmond since the War of Northern Aggression. I had to ask why he was working for Yankees? He said if you wanted to eat and have a roof over your head you had to serve, so he joined to drive choppers- this was his first mission.
I asked him exactly what it was his bosses had in mind for America. He said their party line was peace and prosperity thru hard work and devotion to the country and her leaders. I asked if he didn’t think that sounded a lot like what Marx spewed out about a hundred years ago. His answer was the clincher. He said, “Who?” I knew then things had been worse than I knew even before the EMP. He said they had been building their army up from recruits among the young people and had warehouses of equipment but were short of trained instructors.
I wondered about that. Charley had joined us and said maybe the old guard had seen the storm coming and had said, “Later” and boogied on out. That made some sense (if anything could). The young man said they had appointed a president from their ranks and promised elections just as soon as the troubles were over.
He said they had spread out over the surrounding areas and were using food to win people over. I had trouble with that concept, but Kid said it was likely that since the area had been preserved intact, the people hadn’t had to fight for every bite of food they could find. I figured she had hit it right on.
Blain seemed enthralled with Kid, who was standing there with her Sandy-style uniform of black jeans, black tee shirt, a shoulder holster with her 9mm in it, her AR across her back and a big knife in the top of her boot. Hell, if I was an 18 year old boy I’d be taken, too. She smiled at me and I said, “Stop it!”
Blain said he knew their troop strength was no more than five thousand and while they had a lot of choppers they were short on pilots. Now after the last two days they were really short. I finally asked him if his leaders really thought they could just roll out of their nice little city and take America from the folks who had survived all that could be thrown at them. He sat a minute and looked at the floor. He finally looked up at me and the boy had aged years. He said in a quiet voice, “Sir, as of right now I have come to believe they don’t have a clue what they are doing or what they really want. I think they were so used to power before the war that they can’t stand not having someone to be in power over now.” And right there this young man hit the nail smack on the head.
This snake might be a nasty son of a bitch but its bite wasn’t as bad as it thought it was. If we cut its head off the body would heal just fine in time. It’s simply a case of leadership losing its way…or never having had a way.
So, now our job was to remove the head without harming the body any more than we had too. I told the people standing around to get some chow going and told one of the Corpsmen to check Blain out and get him fed and a place to sleep. I did explain to him that the guards were Indians and he wouldn’t make it ten feet outside the garage. He said, “Don’t worry, sir. You’d have to kick me out of here.” I was liking this kid and really did when he asked to check on his crew first. That showed a lot right there.
Kid leaned on me and said, “He’s kind of cute, huh?” I looked at her and said, “You trying to get his head ripped off by Bear Junior?” That got her attention and made her look around and then she showed she was growing up. She said, “Dad? I need to tell Bear to keep looking, because I’m not planning to get attached for a long time.” I was happy for her but sad for Junior. He’s a good guy, but there are a lot of gals his age all over our place since we rescued so many of them. Junior would be OK. And so would Kid.
I put out the call for Fox and his group of jolly airborne pirates to join us along with a few other key people. They flew into a small airport close to the city and we met them there. I was glad to get out of the city. I have come to hate them- they are dead and overrun with rats and other vermin, both two and four legged. I’ll take open spaces any day.
Fox and his sidekick were first off the plane and of course Sandy had to look around and act like she couldn’t see JJ, then expressing surprise said, “OH! There you are! You were lost in Fox’s shadow.” JJ just flipp
ed her off and told her to go torture small creatures. She smiled even bigger and said, “I Am!” to a big laugh for her audience. Hell, even JJ laughed. He has her number and will soon have a good come back- it’s a friendly war.
After greeting the troops, we headed for some shade and discussed the options. After I explained what Blain had to say and after meeting the young man, Fox agreed that it was best to kill this snake before it got bigger. We spent the day pumping Blain for every bit of information we could get. His two men weren’t as helpful, but more from the fact they knew nothing than trying to hold out on us. In this version of a new American Order the big guys were looking down on all others as inferiors and that was going to be their undoing.`
We found out the new Congress and President lived in a very exclusive gated community actually outside Richmond. Kind of a self-imposed separation from the unwashed masses. They had what amounted to a company of “elite” troops (meaning better ass-kissers) as guards of the new Holy Order. Fox said his troopers could jump at night and take out the entire place, but I think Fox was letting his balls talk for him; not that he isn’t good at it or that he ain’t tough. He is, and they are. But, I want them to all come home. After talking to Blain some more I came to agree with Fox that taking them from above was the best way.
But, I planned to use our old friend the “Fuel Bladder M.O.A.B”. Why get shot when we can just burn them out and shoot the rats running away? Now, we had to figure out how to get our shooters there before the fireball arrived.
